#with the tips of her ears sticking on top | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lxnarphase · 9 months ago

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want me to give you another one? ๋࣭ ⭑⚝

☾₊‧⁺...ft : gojo satoru + geto suguru + fushiguro toji + ryomen sukuna

☾₊‧⁺...cw : breeding kink, praise kink, spit kink, reader gets called 'mommy', dirty talk, teasing, overstimulation, satoru goes insane from pussy, suguru wants a girl this time, toji being in love with his wife, sukuna doesn't like when people insult his soon-to-be-wife, sukuna is dating single mom!reader

☾₊‧⁺...a/n : i really wanted to do the 'our baby is so cute, i want another one' 'yeah? you want me to give you another baby?' trope so here we are ❤︎ i couldn't think if i wanted to do others but if you'd like more please let me know ! ❤︎ also, the toji one ? is actually a sneak peek of a longer fic i'm working on ehehe

✧ g. satoru : it starts off with you nuzzling in satoru's arms as he watches tv. satoru notices that you began to get clingier after you put your baby girl to bed. every night, you would press against him as if you wanted to merge with him and he couldn't help but tease you about it. so when he feels you nipping his neck and your hand running under his shirt? when he hears you oh-so sweetly whisper, "don't you want to give me another baby, satoru?" into his ear? he's eagerly nodding, ready to do whatever the mother of his first baby wants. but instead of letting him on top...you climb over him and that look in your eye tells him everything he needs to know : he's fucked.

"baby, baby, baby, please," satoru whines, his eyes rolling into the back of his head. he feels like he has no control of his hips, he's so sensitive, but he can't stop fucking up into you. not when you're like this, practically buzzing with need and crazed energy. "c'mon, s'toruuuu," you purr, hands splayed out on his chest. "cum f' me again? please, honey, you only came once, 's not enough." the room is hot, both of you covered in a sheen of sweat. how long have you both been going? he didn't remember, he lost count of how many times his hips desperately pressed up, shooting his hot load into your wet, needy pussy. but you just wouldn't stop. not that he minded, but fuck, you were making him so brainless. he can feel his thick cum gushing out of you each time you lift your hips, dripping down his cock and balls, onto the mattress. "h-hah, it's so fucking messy," he groans, unable to stop himself from cumming again. "f-fuck me, baby, t-there's so much cum, y'r pussy is so fuckin' sloppy." you just won't stop milking him, your soft and wet walls massaging him as you moan just from the feeling of being filled up again. god, you were making him insane, what got into you— his eyes snapped up to you when he felt the wet drop of one of your tears on his chest. those pretty lashes of yours were getting wet with tears as he felt your thighs starting to shake, a weak moan leaving you. "c-can't," comes a pathetic sob, your hips desperately grinding down on his cock, moaning when you feel it throb. "c-can't stop, 'toru, 's not enough, i need it, n-need it so bad!" when you finally look at him and make eye contact, he feels like he's been shocked because you look a mess... "give me another baby, 'toru, i want another one, gimme another one, please—!" with no hesitation, his feet are planted into the mattress and his arms wrap around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest as he pounds into your dripping cunt, feeling himself cum just from the wail you let out into his ear. but he doesn't stop, he can't stop, not when his wife, his honey, his baby needs him to knock her up again so badly. "'m gonna give you whatever you want," he pants, his skin feeling like he was touching a live wire. "give it t'you 'til 'm empty, baby, gonna fuck you good, make sure it sticks, just like you, f-fuck, like y'want, yeah?" he feels you nod frantically against him, unable to speak from the way his cock drilled up into your pussy, tip kissing your cervix with each thrust. "y-yeah, you want that, you fuckin' want that, s-s'just take it, baby, let me give you another fuckin' baby."

✧ g. suguru : your son had just turned one so you and suguru let his nieces, nanako and mimiko, come over to have a little celebration. seeing the way you cared for the twins and your baby boy the entire day made him think. his son was still a baby and had a lot of growing, but he knew the kid would look just like him with a few of your features. he's always wanted a girl, and helping his sister take care of the twins as they grew up only made the desire stronger. the two of you mentioned having another baby at some point, but the rest of the week, all he could think about was trying to get you pregnant again, maybe give you a girl this time...who knows, maybe he could fuck you so good you'd have twins.

"aww...i know, i know," suguru coos, his hand pressing into your tummy. that condescending smile on his face just makes you melt under him. he's slow and methodical with how he fucks you, like he wants you to remember every vein of his cock, how it curves up just perfectly that it nudges that spot where his hand is pressing down and makes you keen. his smile morphs into a knowing smirk, his free hand rubbing your thigh. "you're such a pretty mommy, princess. do you know that?" suguru's so sweet, he's so soft, he's treating you like your the most fragile thing on the planet. he sooo slowly grinds himself into you, his hand giving another little push down on your tummy. he's so sweet to you, such a loving husband... but you know. you can see it in his eyes, the hunger and deviance swirling around in those purple irises. he's getting you soft and pliant, melting into the bed as he praises you where he knows your weak. "taking such good care of my baby, aren't you? ," he praises. his hand is so warm as he starts to rub up and down your stomach. "such a shame the geto genes are so strong in the men. however." your breath hitches when he pulls all the way out before shoving his cock all the way in down to the base. you can't help the soft moan of his name, watching him lean down closer so that he's right over you. "the girls in my family always look like their mommy. what do you think, pretty girl? d'you wanna try? want to see if i can give you a girl?" as soon as you nod, suguru fully leans over you, using his arms to hold himself over you and he really starts to fuck you. he's merciless, managing to keep that stupid fucking smile on his face as his balls slap against your ass. "she'll be so pretty, just like her mommy, so so so fucking pretty," he coos as if he isn't making tears drip down your face. he loves seeing his baby like this, so sweet and pretty for him. "okay, angel. 'm gonna give you another one, gonna flood this cunt alllll dayyy longgg."

✧ f. toji : toji never thought he’d get off on the idea of having another kid with you. yet here he is, dick hard in his sweatpants as he thinks about you carrying his baby again...how you'd start to fill out all over again, that cute chubbiness coming back, how he'd have an excuse to dote on you whenever you complained about the simplest of things. but god, did he find it attractive just seeing you be a mom to the kid he gave you. so when megumi tells you both what he wants for his birthday...“i want a baby sister,” he states bluntly. “but, i don’t want her to look like daddy. he’s ugly, i want her to look like mommy.” little brat. toji doesn't hesitate to let megumi have a sleepover with yuuji the next day, dragging you into the bedroom as soon as he gets back home.

“you want to give the kid a sibling, hm," he hums against your mouth, teeth tugging on your lower lip. you feel how hot the tip of his cock is as he rubs circles into your clit with it, smearing his precum all over you. "wanna have another kid with big, bad toji? tsk, poor cunt missed gettin' stuffed full of cum?" you just hummed, a little breathless. your hand came up to cup his cheek, looking from his lips back up to his eyes. “mm, honey, you've gotta stop asking questions you know the answer to,” you cooed, guiding him down closer so you could press a kiss against the scar on his lip. “don’t you want me to make you a daddy again, toji? c'mon, knock me up, big guy.” after those words left your pretty little mouth, toji let out a laugh of disbelief, his mind instantly realizing that you, being a little minx, were 100% going to give him the worst breeding kink ever. he was going to give you what you wanted, what you both wanted. he was going to fuck you, fill you up with all his cum, and whatever leaked out? he’d make sure to push it back in, whether with his fingers, mouth, or tip of his dick. toji easily flips you over onto all fours and lines himself up with your slit. when he finally pushes into you, he just lets out the most wrecked groan you’ve heard from him yet. god, just the thought of fucking you not just to feel good, but to fill you up, get you to take his seed deep inside to give him another kid? it messed with his head. you were almost too good to be true. each thrust he gave had you seeing stars, the thickness of his cock hitting every deep part of you. it was almost too much, but you didn’t want him to stop, especially not when toji started running his mouth. “shit, look at you, baby…takin’ it like a champ. c'mon, throw that ass back on me, mama, thaaaat’s it, good girl.” the sweet moans and adorable words of “gimme more,” “baby, please,” or “s’ too good, toj,’” only pushed him to get even deeper, to get you to cum so he could stuff you full. he coos when he sees you beginning to jolt up further on the bed, away from his relentless fucking. that's he knows that he found that sweet spot that would have you creaming in minutes. "tsk, you just never fuckin' learn, huh? 's always gonna be too much for you, isn't it," he huffs as his hand finds its way into your hair, tugging your head back to keep you from moving more. “hey. hey, nonono, don’t run away from it, lemme have it. you wanted this, you wanted your precious husband to fuck another baby into you, t'give 'gumi a little sister, s’ i’m gonna give it to you.”

✧ r. sukuna : it honestly is his fault this happened, he's being snappy with one of the parents at the birthday party of your son's friend. sukuna knew better, he should've just ignored the bitch, but the comments she's making gets under his skin. "she hasn't given you kids of your own yet? that's too bad, i would've let you do that as soon as you proposed," she tries to flirt, batting her lashes at him. it just makes him sick. did this fucker not see the way sukuna looks at you? "oh, you probably don't know if she's the one you want to mother your kids, right," the woman next to him says, putting her fucking hand on his arm and he shoots her the meanest glare. "not everyone is mother material, but i-" "hey, we're leaving," he interrupts when you walk up to him, slapping the woman's hand off him as he gently wraps his arm around your waist. "i texted yuuji, that's why he's watching our kid for the rest of the day. c'mon."

sukuna is devouring you, his mouth unforgiving as he runs his tongue up and down your pussy. he's pissed, the way his tongue laps angrily at your folds as if your pussy is the reason he's upset. "fuckin' bitch," he snarls, spitting onto your clit before sucking on it. "thinks she can talk to my wife like that." you shakily gasp when he finally, finally looks at you, the sharp anger in his eyes making you shiver. you can tell he's not upset at you, but seeing him so riled up and knowing that he's using you to get it out of his system does something to you. "you know your mine right? that you're stuck with me 'til the day we die," he asks you, his thumb replacing his mouth as he rubs firm circles into your clit. "i'm your husband. you're my wife. you are fucking mine." he's about to say something else, but he stops, letting out a heavy sigh, subtly shaking his head. you catch it though, you always do. "suku, what's wrong," you shakily ask. "y-you can...can tell me, baby, what's wrong? did something ha-" "let me get you pregnant," he says, his voice low but desperate. he's moved from between your legs to over you, and you can see he's so hard, the tip of his cock an angry reddish-purple. "don't you want to give our son a sibling?" your eyes widen, not expecting him to ask that. having a kid with him...honestly didn't sound that bad. and the way he called your son 'our'...it makes your heart flutter, and you can't help but give him a sweet smile and nod. "okay, 'kuna, we can start trying if you are sure. i'm still on birth control, but—sukunaaa!" he doesn't give it another thought, sliding all the way into you until his hips are flush against yours. he feels the way your arms wrap around him and scratch at his back, and as good as it feels, sukuna needs you to give him complete control. pulling your arms off him, he laces his fingers with yours and presses your hands into the mattress before rutting into you, the slap of hips against yours almost angry. "don' care about the birth control," you hear him growl, his eyes burning into yours. "'m gonna fuck you so fuckin' full of my cum that it bypasses it. it's got no fuckin' chance with how many times i'm gonna breed this cunt." the way he's talking to you, it makes your head spin and you know he feels how you clench down on him with the way he groans. "gonna fuckin' show everyone how good of a mom you are, gonna get you all swollen 'n' round with my kids," sukuna groans, feeling his tip kiss your cervix with each snap of his hips. you can't help but look at him with those big eyes, disbelief and infatuation swirling in them. he likes this look on you, you just look so fucking in love with him, and it's all for him, just for him, no one else, just fucking him. "yeah? y'like that? that i'm gonna have a lil' family with my wife? give you as many kids as you want, 'n' all y'gotta do is take my fat cock as i breed you 'til it takes."

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pucksandpower · 19 days ago

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Taste of Temptation

Day 17 → Lactation Kink 💋 Lando Norris

Warnings: 18+ content and dubious consent

Kinktober Masterlist

Lando leans against the edge of the pit wall, his arms crossed over his chest as Jon’s voice drones on in the background. He’s supposed to be listening. Focused. But all he can see is you standing a few feet away, talking to one of the engineers. The sun catches on the fabric of your dress, the deep V of the neckline, the way it clings to you in all the right places.

He shifts, swallowing hard, eyes dropping for what must be the hundredth time today to the way your chest looks in that dress. The low cut, the soft curve of your skin peeking out — it’s like you’re daring him to lose focus entirely. Which, clearly, is happening.

“Lando?”

Jon’s voice pulls him back, but only for a second. His head jerks in the performance coach’s direction. Jon’s got that look on his face, like he’s caught him out.

“Yeah, yeah,” Lando mumbles, dragging a hand through his hair. He tries to nod along, as if he’s been paying attention. “Sorry, what?”

Jon sighs, rolling his eyes. “Mate, we’ve been through this. Hydration’s key. You’ve got to keep on top of it, especially in this heat.”

Lando gives a vague nod, but his eyes flicker back over to you. The way your dress hugs your waist. The way you laugh at something the engineer says, tipping your head back just a little. And the way his mind goes utterly blank every time you smile. He’s barely aware of Jon still talking beside him.

“Water. You need water,” Jon says, more insistent this time, probably noticing Lando’s glazed-over expression.

“Water. Right,” Lando parrots, reaching for the bottle beside him on the bench. But his mind is still on you. Specifically, the way the soft fabric of your dress skims just below your collarbone. How it flutters a little when you move, revealing just enough to drive him mad.

He uncaps the bottle, eyes flicking between you and the opening, trying to focus. But it’s no use. You bend down slightly to tie your shoe, and Lando’s grip loosens. The water splashes out, missing his mouth entirely and drenching the front of his shirt instead.

“Shit-” he mutters, pulling back in surprise as cold water drips down his chin and soaks into the fabric. He blinks down at himself, as if confused by how it happened.

Jon bursts out laughing. “Hopeless,” he says, shaking his head. “Absolutely hopeless.”

Lando wipes at his chest with the back of his hand, but it’s useless. His shirt’s already sticking to his skin, and Jon’s laughter is still ringing in his ears.

“Shut up,” Lando grumbles, tossing the half-empty bottle aside.

“If you spent half as much time listening to me as you do staring at her-” Jon doesn’t even finish the sentence, his grin wide as he jerks his head in your direction.

“I wasn’t staring,” Lando mutters, though he knows it’s a lie. He wipes his mouth with the edge of his sleeve, glancing over at you to make sure you didn’t notice the whole debacle. You’re still talking to the engineer, seemingly oblivious to the scene that just unfolded.

“Right,” Jon says, sarcasm dripping from his voice. “Because you totally didn’t miss your mouth just now. Completely by accident.”

Lando scowls, but there’s no bite to it. He knows Jon’s got him. “It’s the heat,” he says, lamely, hoping that’ll shut him up.

Jon just laughs again. “It’s her, mate.”

Lando doesn’t respond, but his eyes flicker back to you, just for a second. Just long enough to catch another glimpse of the way your dress dips low, hugging your curves. It’s not fair, really. How is he supposed to focus when you look like that?

Jon claps him on the shoulder. “I don’t blame you,” he says, grin still in place. “But you’ve got a race in a couple hours. Maybe try and keep your head in the game, yeah?”

Lando shakes his head, a small smile tugging at his lips despite himself. “Yeah, yeah,” he mutters, wiping at his chest again, though the water has already seeped into the fabric.

Jon moves on, probably satisfied he’s gotten enough teasing out of Lando for now, and launches back into his lecture about hydration and recovery, but Lando’s barely listening again. His mind is still on you. Always on you. He watches as you push a strand of hair behind your ear, the sunlight catching in your eyes.

You turn then, like you can feel his eyes on you, and your gaze meets his. For a second, Lando’s breath catches. You smile, and it’s like everything else fades away. The noise of the paddock, Jon’s voice, even the upcoming race — it all falls to the background.

You tilt your head, raising an eyebrow in that way you always do when you know you’ve got him wrapped around your finger. And you do. You absolutely do.

Lando clears his throat, feeling his face flush, but he can’t tear his eyes away from you. He thinks about walking over, about wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you close, pressing a kiss to that spot just below your ear that always makes you laugh.

But before he can even take a step, Jon’s voice cuts in again. “Seriously, mate. Focus.”

Lando tears his gaze away from you, shooting Jon an annoyed look. “I am focused.”

Jon just snorts. “Yeah, sure. On her.”

Lando rolls his eyes, but there’s no point denying it. He’s not focused, not on anything Jon’s saying, not on the race coming up, not on anything other than you.

You make your way over, that same knowing smile still on your lips, and Lando feels his heart skip a beat.

“Hey,” you say, voice soft as you come to stand beside him.

Lando’s throat goes dry. “Hey.”

You glance down at his still-damp shirt, your smile widening. “You miss your mouth again?”

He groans, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Don’t start.”

Jon chuckles from the side. “Told you. Hopeless.”

You bite your lip, trying — and failing — not to laugh. “You okay, babe?”

Lando gives a half-hearted shrug, but he’s smiling. “It’s your fault,” he says, motioning vaguely toward your dress. “How am I supposed to focus when you wear stuff like that?”

You glance down at yourself, then back up at him, feigning innocence. “Like what?”

Lando groans again, louder this time. “You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

You laugh, a soft sound that makes his chest tighten. “I don’t know, I think you’re just easily distracted.”

Jon claps him on the shoulder again, a knowing grin on his face. “That’s what I’ve been telling him.”

Lando swats Jon’s hand away, shaking his head. “You’re both the worst,” he mutters, but he’s smiling, warmth spreading through his chest as you step closer, your fingers brushing lightly against his.

“Good luck today,” you say, voice dropping to a low murmur, just for him.

He exhales slowly, his pulse quickening as he meets your eyes. “Thanks.”

Your hand lingers against his for a second longer, your touch soft and warm. Then, with one last smile, you turn and walk back toward the paddock, leaving him standing there, heart racing and mind thoroughly distracted.

Jon shakes his head, a soft laugh escaping him. “You’re a goner.”

Lando doesn’t even bother arguing this time. He watches as you disappear into the crowd, his mind still filled with thoughts of you, the race the furthest thing from his mind.

“Yeah,” he mutters under his breath, smiling to himself. “I know.”

***

Lando lies on his back, his head propped up by a couple of pillows, the dim glow of his phone the only light in the room. It’s late, and the soft hum of the bathroom fan is the only sound breaking the quiet, accompanied by the faint rustle of you finishing your nightly routine.

He can hear the running water and the occasional clink of bottles as you move through the familiar steps — cleanser, toner, serum, moisturizer. It’s a comforting routine, and Lando knows it well by now, having watched you do it a hundred times.

He scrolls through TikTok absentmindedly, his thumb flicking up the screen as random videos play in quick succession. His eyes glaze over as he watches one of those “get ready with me” videos, someone talking about their outfit for the day. He’s not really paying attention, though. Mostly, he’s just waiting for you to join him in bed. He glances at the door, hoping you’ll finish soon.

Another swipe, another video. This time, it’s a new mom talking to the camera, her face glowing with a mix of exhaustion and pride. Lando’s thumb hovers over the screen, ready to flick to the next one, but something about the video holds his attention.

“I was really struggling to breastfeed,” the woman says, her voice soft but earnest. “Nothing was working, and I was starting to feel like a failure, honestly. But then I found this cream, and I swear, it was a game changer.”

Lando’s brow furrows slightly, not really sure why he’s still watching, but he doesn’t scroll away. He listens as the woman continues talking about how she had trouble producing milk, how nothing seemed to help until she tried this one product.

“I’m not even kidding,” she says, holding up a small jar to the camera. “Within days, I started lactating. It was a godsend.”

Lando blinks, his mind catching on that word — lactating. He suddenly feels hyperaware of his own body, of the stillness in the room, of the faint sound of you moving around in the bathroom. His eyes drift back to the video, watching the woman gesture to the cream like it’s a miracle. His mind starts to wander, unbidden, to thoughts of you.

He hesitates for a moment, his thumb frozen on the screen, but his brain is already running wild with the idea. The thought of you with milk. His mouth goes dry, and he quickly glances toward the bathroom door again, half-expecting you to walk out and catch him watching this bizarrely specific video. But you’re still busy inside.

He swallows hard, feeling a strange mix of curiosity and something deeper stirring in his chest. He taps the screen, pulling up the link the woman left in the video description. The product is right there, easy to order, just a few clicks away.

Lando’s thumb hovers over the “buy now” button. It’s stupid. Ridiculous, even. Why is he even considering this? But the thought won’t leave his head. The idea of you using this cream, of your body responding to it — it sends a shiver down his spine. His heart starts beating faster, a strange kind of excitement bubbling up inside him.

He bites his lip, staring at the screen, his mind spinning with the possibilities. His fingers twitch, almost moving on their own as he clicks the button, the order processing before he can even fully think it through.

The confirmation pops up, and he quickly deletes the email notification, his fingers moving quickly to erase any trace of the purchase. His heart races, a weird thrill running through him at the secrecy of it all. He tosses his phone onto the nightstand, feeling slightly breathless, like he’s just done something he shouldn’t have.

The bathroom door creaks open, and Lando’s head snaps up. You step out, the soft light from the bathroom spilling into the bedroom for a moment before you turn it off. You’re wearing one of his oversized t-shirts, your hair pulled back into a messy bun, skin glowing from your skincare routine. You look comfortable, relaxed, and Lando feels a sudden wave of warmth in his chest.

“Finally,” he says, a teasing smile tugging at his lips. “I thought you got lost in there.”

You roll your eyes, climbing into bed beside him. “I wasn’t that long.”

“You were,” he insists, shifting to make room for you. “I’ve aged years waiting for you.”

You laugh, sliding under the covers and snuggling up next to him. “You’re dramatic.”

“Maybe,” he concedes, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you closer. “But you do take forever.”

You nudge him playfully, but you settle into his side, your head resting on his chest. “Good things take time,” you say with a smirk.

Lando chuckles, but his mind is still spinning, the image of that video replaying in his head. He glances down at you, his arm tightening around you just a little, and his mind drifts to the thought of you filled with milk. The idea is strange, foreign, but it’s lodged in his brain now, and he can’t shake it.

You let out a contented sigh, your hand resting on his stomach, fingers idly tracing patterns on his skin. “What were you watching?” You ask, your voice soft, almost sleepy.

Lando stiffens for a second, his heart skipping a beat. “Uh, nothing much,” he says quickly, trying to sound casual. “Just the usual nonsense.”

You hum in response, seemingly satisfied with the answer, and Lando relaxes slightly. He presses a kiss to the top of your head, trying to push the thought of the cream out of his mind. But it lingers, that strange curiosity gnawing at the edges of his consciousness.

“What’s got you so quiet tonight?” You ask after a moment, your voice laced with amusement. “You’re usually more talkative.”

Lando hesitates. He knows he should just let it go, that this whole thing is ridiculous, but part of him wants to say something. He bites his lip, unsure of how to even bring it up.

“I was just thinking,” he says slowly, his voice a little tentative.

“About?” You prompt, lifting your head slightly to look at him.

Lando meets your gaze, his heart pounding. “Have you ever thought about … I don’t know, trying something new?” He asks, his voice carefully measured.

Your brow furrows, curiosity flickering in your eyes. “New? Like what?”

He hesitates again, feeling a bit stupid for even considering bringing it up. But the image is so vivid in his mind, and he’s suddenly desperate to know what you’d think. “Like … I don’t know. Different things. Stuff you wouldn’t normally try.”

You raise an eyebrow, clearly intrigued now. “Lando, you’re being weirdly vague. What are you talking about?”

He lets out a nervous laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “Forget it. It’s dumb.”

But you don’t let it go. You shift, turning to face him more fully, your eyes narrowing slightly. “No, no. Now I want to know. What ‘different things’ are you thinking about?”

Lando feels his face heat up, the words stuck in his throat. He can’t just come out and say it — hey, what if you tried this cream that makes you lactate? He’s sure you’d look at him like he’s lost his mind.

“Uh … just stuff,” he mutters, looking away. “Like, in general.”

You study him for a moment, a smirk tugging at your lips. “You’re acting really weird,” you say, your voice teasing.

Lando forces a laugh, trying to brush it off. “Yeah, well. It’s been a long day.”

You don’t push any further, but there’s a playful glint in your eyes as you settle back against him, your head resting on his chest again. “You’re such a mystery sometimes, Norris,” you say with a grin.

He lets out a relieved breath, thankful you’re not pressing the issue. He wraps his arm around you again, trying to focus on the comfort of having you next to him, on the way your body fits so perfectly against his. But the thought still lingers, a quiet hum in the back of his mind. The idea of you, your body changing in that way, is intoxicating in a way he hadn’t expected.

As the minutes tick by, the room growing quieter and more peaceful, Lando can’t help but wonder what you’d think if you found out. Would you laugh it off, or would you be curious too?

You shift beside him, letting out a soft sigh, and Lando presses another kiss to the top of your head, trying to push the thoughts away. For now, he’ll keep it to himself. But the secret sits there, buzzing quietly in the background, waiting for the right moment to resurface.

“Goodnight, babe,” you murmur sleepily, your voice soft and content.

“Goodnight,” Lando whispers back, though his mind is far from quiet.

As you drift off, he lies there, wide awake, his mind replaying that video over and over, wondering just what he’s gotten himself into.

***

Lando can barely contain his nerves when the package arrives, neatly wrapped in brown paper with no label to give away its contents. He picks it up from the doorstep and quickly tucks it under his arm, heart racing as he slips back into the house.

You’re in the kitchen, humming softly to yourself as you prep dinner, completely unaware of the small box that holds so much significance for him. He glances at you, trying to act casual, but the adrenaline surging through his veins makes his hands feel shaky.

He slips into the bedroom, closing the door quietly behind him. With a quick glance over his shoulder to make sure you’re still out of earshot, Lando opens the package. The cream is small, unassuming, and he feels a strange thrill pulse through him as he holds it in his hands. The video flashes through his mind again — lactation — and it sends a familiar shiver down his spine.

For a moment, he hesitates. Should he really go through with this? He’s already in too deep, though. The thought of you, your body responding to this, is far too intoxicating to back out now. He tucks the cream into his nightstand drawer, hiding it carefully beneath some old receipts and random clutter. Just as he’s closing the drawer, he hears your footsteps coming down the hallway.

Quickly, Lando stands up, smoothing out his shirt and stepping back into the main area of the house, meeting you with a wide grin as you finish setting the table. You look relaxed, but he can see the faint tension in your shoulders — like maybe work’s been getting to you again. He watches you closely as you move around the kitchen, biting his lip in thought. This could be the perfect moment.

“You look tense,” he says, leaning against the counter as you place two plates of food on the table.

You glance up at him, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Yeah, it’s been a long day,” you admit, rubbing the back of your neck.

Lando steps closer, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind and pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “I was thinking …” he murmurs, his voice low, “maybe I could give you a massage later? Help you relax a bit.”

You lean into his touch, your smile widening. “That sounds amazing.”

“Good,” he says softly, the hint of a plan forming in his mind. “I even got some new lotion that’s supposed to be great for massages. Thought we could try it out.”

Your eyes flicker with interest as you glance up at him. “Fancy,” you tease, but there’s an unmistakable warmth in your voice. “When did you become such an expert?”

He chuckles, pressing another kiss to your cheek. “I’ve always been an expert when it comes to you,” he says, his voice playful, but there’s a sincerity underneath that makes your smile soften.

Dinner passes in a comfortable haze, your conversation light and easy, but Lando’s mind is already fast-forwarding to what’s coming next. He watches you across the table, taking in every detail of your movements, your expressions, the soft rise and fall of your chest as you talk about your day. His heart pounds harder with every passing moment, anticipation building.

Later, after you’ve both cleaned up and changed into more comfortable clothes, Lando pats the space in front of him on the bed, motioning for you to lie down. You oblige with a soft laugh, stretching out on your stomach, your hair cascading down over one shoulder.

“You’re too good to me,” you murmur, resting your cheek on the pillow.

Lando grins, feeling the familiar rush of affection surge through him. “You deserve it,” he says, settling onto the bed beside you. He grabs the regular lotion first, squeezing a bit into his hands and warming it up between his palms. He starts slow, his hands gliding over your back, working into the tension in your shoulders with practiced ease.

You let out a contented sigh, your body relaxing under his touch, and Lando takes his time, savoring every second. He loves seeing you like this — completely at ease, trusting him completely. He kneads into the muscles of your back, his thumbs working in small circles, and you hum softly, your breathing deepening.

“Mmm, that feels amazing,” you mumble, your voice sleepy.

Lando smiles to himself, continuing the massage. His hands move lower, massaging the small of your back, then your sides, and down to your legs. He’s methodical, deliberate, taking his time so you can fully relax.

After a while, he pulls back, his heart thudding in his chest. Now comes the part he’s been waiting for.

“I think you’re due for a flip,” he says with a soft chuckle, giving your side a gentle nudge.

You laugh softly, rolling onto your back and stretching your arms above your head, completely relaxed. Your t-shirt rides up just slightly, revealing a sliver of skin, and Lando’s pulse quickens. He keeps his expression neutral, though, not wanting to give away what’s about to happen.

“Ready for more?” He teases, keeping his tone light.

You nod, your eyes half-closed in contentment. “Bring it on.”

Lando reaches for the nightstand, his fingers brushing the drawer handle with a quick flick. His heart skips a beat as he retrieves the small jar of cream, careful to hide the label from your view. He sets it down beside him, moving slowly so you won’t notice anything out of the ordinary.

He starts with your arms, using the regular lotion again, his touch gentle and soothing. He rubs the lotion into your skin, working it over your shoulders and down your forearms. You sigh again, completely lost in the sensation, and Lando’s chest tightens with anticipation. He knows it’s almost time.

Finally, his hands trail down to your chest. He hesitates for the briefest second, his eyes flicking to your face to make sure you’re still relaxed. You are — your eyes closed, a faint smile on your lips, your body completely at ease beneath his hands.

Perfect.

Lando quietly switches the jars, scooping a small amount of the special cream onto his fingers. He rubs it between his palms, warming it up, and then he lowers his hands to your chest, his breath catching slightly as his fingers make contact with your skin.

His touch is gentle, almost reverent, as he smooths the cream over the soft skin of your chest, taking extra care to massage it in thoroughly. His hands move in slow, deliberate circles, making sure to cover every inch of you, but he’s careful — so careful — not to make you suspicious. He doesn’t want you to know what he’s doing. Not yet.

You let out a soft, contented hum, your body sinking even deeper into relaxation, and Lando’s heart races in his chest. He can feel the cream sinking into your skin, the thought of what it might do sending a shiver down his spine.

“How does that feel?” He asks, his voice low and steady, though his pulse is anything but.

“Amazing,” you murmur, your voice heavy with sleep. “You’re really good at this.”

Lando chuckles softly, continuing his slow, deliberate movements, his hands brushing over your chest, his fingers lingering just slightly on your nipples. He massages the cream into them carefully, making sure they’re completely covered, his touch as light as a whisper.

You sigh, your chest rising and falling under his hands, and Lando feels a wave of heat rush through him. The thought of you, your body responding to this cream, the idea of you producing milk, it’s all so overwhelming, and he has to take a deep breath to steady himself.

“Good,” he murmurs, his voice soft and warm. “Just relax.”

He continues the massage for a little while longer, his hands lingering on your chest, making sure every bit of the cream is absorbed. You’re so relaxed now, your body completely loose and pliant beneath his touch, and Lando feels a strange sense of satisfaction as he watches you.

Eventually, he pulls back, wiping his hands on a nearby towel and setting the jar of cream back into the drawer, hiding it away once again. He glances at you, lying there with a peaceful smile on your face, completely unaware of what he’s just done.

Lando lies down beside you, pulling the covers over both of you as you shift closer, snuggling up against him. Your head rests on his chest, your arm draped over his waist, and Lando wraps an arm around you, holding you close.

“You really are too good to me,” you murmur, your voice soft and drowsy.

Lando presses a kiss to the top of your head, his heart still racing with a mix of excitement and anticipation. “I just want you to feel good,” he says quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.

You hum in response, already drifting off into sleep, your body completely relaxed against his. Lando lies there in the quiet darkness, his mind buzzing with thoughts of what’s to come, of the changes that might happen now that you’ve used the cream.

He tightens his arm around you, feeling a strange sense of satisfaction settle over him. It’s all in motion now. There’s no going back.

“Goodnight,” you murmur sleepily.

Lando smiles to himself, his chest tightening with anticipation. “Goodnight,” he whispers, but his mind is far from rest.

***

It’s been weeks since Lando first started using the cream. Every night, he waits for the perfect opportunity: after you’ve fallen asleep, your breathing soft and even, or when you come home exhausted and practically beg him to give you a massage. He’s gotten careful, precise. Every time his hands glide over your skin, rubbing the cream into your chest, a thrill courses through him.

He hasn’t said a word, hasn’t let on that anything is out of the ordinary. Every time you lean into him with a content sigh or drift off into a deeper sleep, he feels more confident, more sure of what he’s doing. The anticipation is almost unbearable at times.

And then, one morning, it happens.

Lando’s sitting on the edge of the bed, scrolling aimlessly through his phone when he hears it — your scream. It’s sharp, panicked, and it sends a jolt of adrenaline rushing through him. He’s up in an instant, his phone slipping from his hand as he bolts toward the walk-in closet where your voice came from.

“Babe?” Lando calls, his heart hammering in his chest. He rounds the corner into the closet, eyes scanning frantically until they land on you, standing in front of the full-length mirror, frozen in place.

You’re staring at your reflection, wide-eyed, your hands hovering over your chest as if you’re too afraid to touch. His eyes follow your gaze, and that’s when he sees it — the two dark spots blooming on the fabric of your dress, right over your breasts. Wet, unmistakable, and spreading slowly.

“What the hell is this?” You whisper, your voice shaky, a mixture of confusion and panic creeping in. “Lando, what is this?”

Lando swallows hard, his mind racing. This is it. The cream has finally started working, and now you’re standing there, completely unaware of what’s been happening. He can see the fear in your eyes, the way you’re trembling just slightly, and he knows he has to act fast.

“Whoa, hey, hey, it’s okay,” Lando says quickly, stepping toward you, his hands outstretched in a gesture of reassurance. “Let’s just take a second, okay? Breathe.”

You glance at him, your eyes wild, and he can see how much this is freaking you out. “Lando, I — this isn’t normal! Why is this happening?” Your voice cracks slightly, and you press a hand over one of the wet spots, as if trying to stop it from spreading further.

Lando moves closer, gently taking your hands in his. He forces himself to stay calm, even though inside, his pulse is racing with a strange mix of excitement and guilt. He can’t let you see that, though. Not now. Not when you’re looking at him like you’re terrified of what’s happening to your body.

“Okay, okay, let’s think about this,” Lando says, his voice steady. “It’s probably just, you know, hormones or something. These things can happen sometimes, right? Bodies do weird stuff.”

You blink at him, still looking unconvinced. “But I’ve never-” you start, but your voice falters. “Why now? I haven’t done anything differently. This is just … weird.”

Lando bites the inside of his cheek, trying to figure out how to spin this without raising any red flags. He can’t let you know about the cream — not now, when you’re already so shaken. He needs to make this sound as natural as possible, something that just happens, something you won’t question.

“Hey, remember that article you showed me a while back?” He says, grasping at straws. “The one about how stress can mess with your body? Maybe it’s that? You’ve been working a lot lately, right? It could be your hormones reacting to all the stress.”

You frown, clearly still confused, but Lando can see a flicker of understanding pass over your face. You do work hard, and lately, you’ve been talking about how exhausted you feel. Maybe that’ll be enough to explain this away, to keep you from digging any deeper.

“Stress can do this?” You ask, your voice still shaky but a little more composed now.

Lando nods, giving your hands a gentle squeeze. “It could. And, you know, hormones fluctuate all the time. Maybe this is just your body’s way of reacting to everything going on. It doesn’t have to be a big deal.”

You look down at the wet spots again, your brow furrowing as you process his words. “But I’ve never had this happen before,” you say quietly. “This is just … I don’t know, Lando, it feels weird.”

Lando pulls you closer, wrapping his arms around you in a comforting embrace. He presses a soft kiss to your temple, trying to calm the nerves still buzzing in your body. “I know it’s weird,” he murmurs, his voice gentle. “But we’ll figure it out, okay? If it keeps happening, we’ll talk to someone. But right now, let’s just take it one step at a time.”

You nod slowly, your head resting against his chest, and Lando can feel the tension in your body slowly start to melt away. He holds you close, his heart still pounding in his chest, but he knows he has to keep it together. He can’t let you see how deep this goes — how much this was part of his plan all along.

After a few moments, you pull back slightly, glancing down at the dark spots again with a sigh. “I should probably change,” you mutter, a hint of frustration in your voice.

Lando chuckles softly, trying to lighten the mood. “Yeah, might be a good idea.”

You offer a small, half-hearted smile, and Lando can see that you’re still processing everything. But at least you’re not panicking anymore, not freaking out like you were a few minutes ago. That’s a good sign.

He watches as you turn back to the closet, rifling through your clothes for something to change into. His mind is still racing, though. Now that the cream is working, what happens next? Will you notice more changes? Will you start asking questions? He doesn’t know how long he can keep this a secret, but the thought of stopping now feels impossible. He’s already too far in.

Lando’s gaze flickers to the mirror, where your reflection is visible. He watches you change into a fresh dress, the wet spots on the discarded one serving as a reminder of what’s happening. He bites his lip, torn between the thrill of seeing his plan take effect and the guilt gnawing at the edges of his mind.

You finish changing and turn to face him, still looking a little uncertain but calmer now. “Thanks,” you say quietly, your eyes meeting his. “For being so calm. I don’t know what I’d do if you weren’t here.”

Lando’s chest tightens at your words, a mix of emotions swirling inside him. He steps forward, wrapping his arms around you once more, pulling you close. “I’m always here for you,” he says softly, meaning every word, even if there’s a part of him that’s hiding something.

You rest your head against his chest again, and for a moment, everything feels normal — like nothing has changed. But Lando knows better. Things have changed. The cream has started working, and now, there’s no turning back.

As he holds you in his arms, Lando can’t help but think about what comes next. Will the changes continue? Will you start noticing more? He knows he has to tread carefully, but the excitement bubbling inside him is hard to ignore.

He runs his fingers through your hair, pressing another kiss to the top of your head. “We’ll figure this out,” he says quietly, though he’s already thinking about the next time he’ll use the cream, the next step in this carefully orchestrated plan.

You pull back slightly, looking up at him with a soft smile. “Yeah, I guess we will.”

Lando smiles back, but his mind is already racing ahead, filled with thoughts of what’s to come.

***

Lando lies in bed, staring at the ceiling. The room is dark, except for the faint glow of the moon seeping through the curtains, casting soft, silvery light across the room. Next to him, you’re asleep, breathing softly, curled up under the blankets. He watches you for a moment, his heart heavy with an intensity he can’t quite explain.

It’s been days since the incident in the closet, since you first noticed the signs, and while you’ve brushed it off as a hormonal blip — just as he suggested — it’s been gnawing at Lando’s mind constantly. He can’t stop thinking about it, about what’s happening to your body, about the secret he’s been carrying.

And tonight … tonight is different. There’s something humming in the air, something that feels both electric and inevitable.

Lando shifts onto his side, facing you, his eyes tracing the soft curve of your form under the covers. He watches the gentle rise and fall of your chest, knowing exactly what’s happening beneath the fabric of your shirt. The thought sends a jolt of heat through him, a heat he’s been trying to ignore, but it’s becoming too strong now, too insistent.

He knows he shouldn’t. He knows this crosses a line he’s already been walking dangerously close to for weeks, but the temptation has been building, slowly tightening around him until it feels like there’s no escape.

Carefully, he reaches out, his hand hovering just above your shoulder. You’re still fast asleep, unaware of the storm brewing in Lando’s mind, unaware of the secret desires he’s been hiding. His fingers brush your shoulder lightly, testing the waters, and you don’t stir. He lets out a quiet breath, inching closer.

His hand moves down, grazing the fabric of your shirt, feeling the warmth of your skin through it. His touch is featherlight, deliberate, as he pulls the blanket back, just enough to give him access. The moonlight bathes you in a soft glow, illuminating your form in a way that feels almost surreal. Lando’s pulse quickens, and he swallows hard, his mouth dry as his hand lingers near your chest.

He shouldn’t. He knows he shouldn’t.

But his body moves before his mind can stop it.

Slowly, so slowly it feels like time is crawling, Lando slips his hand under your shirt. The fabric slides up, exposing your skin to the cool night air, and his fingers move over the soft swell of your chest. He can feel the warmth there, the subtle heaviness that wasn’t there before, and it makes his head spin.

He pauses, his hand resting over your chest, his breath shaky. He’s trying to be careful, not to wake you, but his body is tense with anticipation, with something deeper, something that feels dangerous and thrilling all at once.

Lando leans in, his lips hovering just above your skin. He hesitates for a moment, heart racing in his chest, before pressing a soft kiss to the curve of your breast. You stir slightly, but don’t wake, and the rush of relief that floods through him is intoxicating.

He moves lower, his lips trailing gentle kisses along your skin, until he reaches the peak of your chest. The fabric of your shirt is bunched up just above his hand, and Lando carefully pulls it higher, exposing more of your skin. His breath catches in his throat as he sees it — the faint trace of moisture beading at the tip.

It’s real. It’s happening.

His mouth goes dry again, but his body moves on instinct, drawn to the sight in front of him. He leans in, his lips brushing against your skin, and then … he tastes it.

It’s warm, sweet, unlike anything he’s ever tasted before. The sensation sends a shock through him, his entire body lighting up with something primal, something he didn’t even know was there. He presses his lips more firmly against your skin, drawing more of it into his mouth, the sweetness flooding his senses.

You stir again, shifting slightly in your sleep, and Lando freezes, his heart hammering in his chest. But you don’t wake. He lets out a slow, controlled breath, his lips still hovering over your chest.

His mind is racing, caught somewhere between guilt and an overwhelming need that he can’t explain. He knows what he’s doing is wrong — he knows he’s crossing a boundary — but it’s too late. He’s too far gone, too consumed by the feeling of you, by the taste of you.

Lando pulls back just enough to look at your face, making sure you’re still asleep, and when he sees that you are, he dips his head again, pressing his lips against your skin once more. He’s careful, deliberate, trying to keep his movements gentle, but the sensation of tasting you, of feeling the warmth of your body beneath his lips, is making it harder and harder to control himself.

He wants more.

His hand moves higher, slipping further under your shirt, until he’s cupping your chest in his palm. The weight of it feels different now, heavier, and the thought of it sends another jolt of heat through him. He squeezes gently, drawing more of the warm liquid into his mouth, and it takes everything in him not to make a sound.

You let out a soft sigh in your sleep, and Lando’s heart skips a beat. He pulls back again, his lips parting as he stares down at you, his mind spinning. He can’t believe what he’s just done, can’t believe how far he’s let himself go.

For a moment, he just sits there, watching you, his hand still resting on your chest, his breathing shallow. His lips are still tingling from the taste, from the sensation of it, and he knows he’s in too deep now. There’s no going back from this.

Lando carefully pulls your shirt back down, his movements slow and deliberate as he covers you again. He tucks the blanket around you, making sure you’re warm, before lying back down beside you, his heart still pounding in his chest.

As he lies there, staring up at the ceiling, his mind is a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. He knows he should feel guilty — he knows this is wrong — but all he can think about is the taste of you, the way it felt to have that small, secret part of you all to himself.

He turns his head to look at you, your face peaceful in sleep, completely unaware of what’s just happened. The moonlight casts a soft glow over your skin, and Lando feels that same overwhelming rush of affection and desire that’s been building for weeks.

He knows he should stop. He knows this can’t go on. But as he lies there, listening to the sound of your breathing, all he can think about is when he can taste you again.

***

Lando collapses onto the small couch in his driver’s room, drenched in sweat and utterly exhausted. The Qatar heat was brutal, and the race had taken everything out of him. His entire body feels heavy, his muscles aching, his skin sticky from the mix of sweat and the desert air. His mind is foggy, still reeling from the intense focus he’d maintained for hours. Dehydration was a real issue here, and it hit him harder than he expected.

“Bloody hell …” he mutters, leaning his head back against the wall, eyes closed.

You’re there almost immediately, a soft, comforting presence at his side. You place a hand on his knee, your touch warm and reassuring.

“You okay?” You ask, your voice soft but full of concern.

Lando opens his eyes slightly, giving you a tired smile. “Yeah … just need to rehydrate. I feel like a raisin.” He forces a chuckle, though his voice is rough, throat dry from the heat.

You stand, quickly moving to the small fridge in the corner of the room. “I’ll get you some water,” you say, already pulling out a bottle and twisting off the cap. “You need to replenish your electrolytes too. You’re completely wiped.”

Lando watches you, his mind still hazy, but there’s something about the way you move, the way you’re so focused on taking care of him, that pulls him out of his fog. You’re always like this after a race — attentive, calm, making sure he’s okay before you even think about yourself. He loves that about you, the way you care for him in these quiet, personal moments.

But today, there’s something else on his mind. Something he’s been thinking about for weeks, ever since that night in bed.

Lando licks his dry lips, his heart picking up speed as a thought crosses his mind. You’ve been by his side this entire time, completely unaware of what he’s been doing, of the secret he’s been keeping. He’s managed to keep things under control, to keep his obsession at bay, but now … now he’s not sure if he can.

He watches as you return to him, holding the bottle of water and a sports drink, and sits down beside him. You hand him the water first, but he hesitates, his fingers curling around the bottle without taking a sip.

“What’s wrong?” You ask, your brow furrowed as you look at him.

Lando swallows, his mouth dry, but not just from dehydration. His eyes flick to your chest, lingering for a moment before quickly returning to your face. “I, uh … I was thinking,” he says, trying to keep his voice casual, though his heart is pounding in his chest. “Maybe I could … try something else.”

You blink at him, confused. “What do you mean?”

He hesitates, his mind racing as he tries to find the right words. He knows he’s pushing it, knows this is dangerous territory, but the thought of tasting you again — of having that secret part of you, especially now, when he’s so raw and exhausted — feels impossible to resist.

“I mean,” he starts, his voice low, “maybe I could try … you.”

Your eyes widen slightly, and you glance down at yourself, clearly taken aback. “Me? Lando, what are you talking about?”

He shifts slightly, his body tense, but his gaze stays on you, steady despite the pounding of his heart. “I know it sounds weird,” he says quickly, before you can protest. “But … I’m so dehydrated, and … you know, with everything that’s been happening, I just thought … maybe it could help.”

You stare at him for a moment, clearly trying to process what he’s saying. “You … you want to …”

He nods, his throat tight as he watches your reaction. “Just a little. I mean, it’s natural, right? And you’ve been producing, so … I thought it might help. If you’re okay with it.”

You’re silent for a long moment, clearly taken aback, and Lando can see the uncertainty in your eyes. His heart pounds harder, the tension in the room thickening as he waits for your response.

Finally, you let out a breath, glancing down at yourself before looking back at him. “You really think it’ll help?”

Lando nods again, though he knows that’s not really the point. It’s not about the dehydration, not really. But you don’t need to know that. You don’t need to know how much he’s been thinking about this, how much he craves it.

“I think it might,” he says softly, reaching out to gently place a hand on your knee. “Just a little. If you’re comfortable with it.”

You bite your lip, clearly still unsure, but there’s a softness in your eyes, a desire to help him, to take care of him in whatever way you can. Slowly, you nod.

“Okay,” you say quietly. “If you think it’ll help.”

Lando’s heart skips a beat, a rush of excitement flooding through him as you agree. He shifts closer to you on the couch, his hand sliding up your leg to rest on your thigh as he looks into your eyes.

“Are you sure?” He asks, his voice low, though he’s already leaning in, already feeling the pull toward you.

You nod again, though there’s still a hint of hesitation in your expression. “Yeah. I just … I didn’t expect this.”

Lando smiles softly, trying to put you at ease, though inside, his mind is racing. “It’s okay,” he murmurs, his hand gently squeezing your thigh. “We’ll take it slow.”

You take a deep breath, and then, with a small nod, you lift the hem of your shirt, exposing your chest to him. Lando’s breath catches in his throat, his eyes immediately drawn to the soft curve of your skin, the subtle sheen of moisture that’s already starting to form.

His mouth goes dry again, but this time, it’s not from the heat.

He leans in slowly, his hand sliding up to cup your breast as his lips brush against your skin. You tense slightly under his touch, but you don’t pull away, and Lando takes that as his cue to continue. He presses a soft kiss to your skin, his heart racing in his chest as he feels the warmth of you beneath his lips.

For a moment, he just stays there, breathing you in, savoring the closeness. Then, slowly, carefully, he opens his mouth and takes you in, drawing the sweet liquid into his mouth.

The taste hits him instantly, flooding his senses with warmth and sweetness. It’s just as he remembered — no, better. The heat, the exhaustion, the rawness of the race — it all amplifies the sensation, making it feel more intense, more real.

He can feel you tense again, a soft gasp escaping your lips, and he pulls back slightly, looking up at you with wide eyes. “You okay?” He asks softly, his voice thick.

You nod, though your breathing is shaky, your hand coming up to rest on his shoulder. “Yeah … I’m okay. It’s just … different.”

Lando nods, understanding, but he can’t stop now. He leans in again, his lips pressing against you once more as he drinks from you, taking in the warmth, the sweetness. It feels like he’s finally giving in to something he’s been craving for so long, and the rush of it makes his head spin.

He moves his hand gently, squeezing softly as he continues, feeling the way your body reacts to him, the way you tremble under his touch. It sends a thrill through him, a deep, primal satisfaction that he can’t explain.

You let out a soft sigh, your fingers tightening on his shoulder, and Lando feels a surge of heat in his chest. He’s careful, though — he doesn’t want to push too far, doesn’t want to scare you. He pulls back after a moment, looking up at you again with that same soft smile.

“How was that?” He asks, his voice gentle.

You look down at him, your expression still a mix of confusion and something else — something softer, more vulnerable. “It was … okay,” you say quietly. “Just … unexpected.”

Lando nods, reaching up to gently brush a strand of hair behind your ear. “Thank you,” he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder. “I feel a lot better now.”

You smile at him, though it’s a small, uncertain smile, and Lando knows that this is something you’re still processing. But for him … for him, it feels like the beginning of something he’s been waiting for. Something he’s been craving.

As you pull your shirt back down and settle beside him on the couch, Lando leans back, his heart still racing, his mind spinning with everything that just happened. He knows he’s playing with fire, knows that this secret is dangerous, but for now, he’s content.

***

Lando is lying on the couch, lazily scrolling through his phone, the sound of the TV humming in the background. It’s a quiet afternoon, the kind of rare downtime that he savors between races. His body still feels the residual tension from the last few weeks, the physical demands of driving through the relentless heat of Qatar lingering in his muscles.

You’re in the bedroom, sorting through some things. Lando hears the occasional thud of a drawer closing, the rustling of clothes. Everything feels normal. Calm, even.

Until it isn’t.

“Lando!”

Your voice slices through the quiet, sharp and tense. His heart stutters in his chest. The way you say his name — it’s not in the usual tone. There’s something off about it, something more than the usual annoyance over small things.

He sits up, his phone forgotten in his lap. “Yeah?” He calls back, trying to sound casual, but there’s a tightness in his throat.

You appear in the doorway, and immediately, Lando knows something’s wrong. You’re holding something in your hand — a small, innocuous-looking jar. But he recognizes it instantly.

The cream. The cream he thought he’d hidden well enough.

He swallows hard, his pulse quickening. “What’s that?” He asks, feigning ignorance, but his voice wavers ever so slightly.

You step closer, holding up the jar. Your eyes are sharp, full of confusion, but also something else — betrayal, anger, hurt. “I found this,” you say, your voice tight. “In the back of the drawer. Where you obviously didn’t want me to find it.”

Lando shifts uncomfortably on the couch, his mind racing as he tries to come up with an excuse, anything to diffuse the situation. He hadn’t expected this. He thought he’d been careful. “It’s just … it’s just some lotion,” he says, but even as the words leave his mouth, he knows they’re not enough.

Your eyes narrow. “Lotion? Lando, this is not just lotion. This is-” You pause, your breath shaky. “This is the cream that’s supposed to induce lactation, isn’t it?”

He feels his stomach drop. There’s no point in denying it now. You’ve found the evidence, and there’s no going back from this. But he can’t let you stay angry. He can’t let this ruin everything. He’s worked too hard to get to this point, and he doesn’t want to lose what he’s gained.

“Look, I can explain,” he says, standing up from the couch, his hands raised in a gesture of surrender. He tries to keep his voice calm, soothing. “I didn’t mean to hide it from you. I just … I thought it would help.”

You stare at him, your expression a mix of disbelief and anger. “Help? Help with what, Lando? You’ve been putting this on me without telling me! Do you realize how messed up that is?”

He steps closer, his heart pounding. “I know. I know it sounds bad. But I didn’t mean for it to be like this. I just … I wanted to try something new. I wanted to feel closer to you.”

You shake your head, incredulous. “Closer to me? By making my body do something without my knowledge? This is so far beyond okay. This is — this is a violation of trust.”

Lando feels a surge of panic. He can’t let this spiral out of control. He can’t let you leave, or worse, shut him out. He takes a step closer, his voice dropping to a softer tone, almost pleading. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I swear. I just-” He hesitates, then says, “I didn’t know how to ask for it.”

Your brows furrow, and you look away, your hand tightening around the jar. Lando can see the conflict in your eyes — the hurt, the confusion, the anger. And he knows that if he doesn’t do something now, he might lose you.

He takes another step closer, his voice gentle. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs, his hand reaching out to brush your arm. “I just … I couldn’t help it. I’ve been so obsessed with you, with us, and it felt … it felt natural. I didn’t want to scare you.”

You shake your head again, but your anger seems to falter, just a little. “This is … this isn’t something you just hide from someone. You can’t make decisions about my body like that.”

“I know,” he says quickly. “I know. I shouldn’t have done it without telling you. But I didn’t know how to bring it up. I didn’t want to make things weird between us.”

You look at him, your eyes searching his face, and Lando feels a small flicker of hope. He can see that you’re still upset, but there’s a crack in the wall you’ve put up, a softness starting to seep through.

He takes another step, closing the distance between you, his hand gently cupping your cheek. “Please,” he whispers. “Let me make it up to you. I don’t want to lose this. I don’t want to lose us.”

You sigh, closing your eyes for a moment, and Lando can feel the tension in the room shift, just slightly. He knows he’s not out of the woods yet, but he’s close. So close.

“Lando …” you begin, but he cuts you off by leaning in, pressing his lips to yours in a soft, desperate kiss. You hesitate at first, but after a moment, you kiss him back, your lips warm and familiar against his.

When he pulls away, his voice is low, almost a whisper. “Let me show you. Let me take care of you.”

You look at him, your eyes still conflicted, but there’s something else there now — curiosity, maybe, or a need for comfort. Lando takes that as his cue to continue, his hands moving to gently guide you to sit down on the edge of the bed.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers again, his hands moving to your shoulders, massaging gently. “I know I messed up. But I want to make it right.”

You don’t say anything, but you don’t resist either. Lando’s hands slide down your arms, soothing and gentle, as he kneels in front of you. He looks up at you, his eyes soft, pleading.

“Let me,” he murmurs, his hands moving to the hem of your shirt, tugging it up slightly. You hesitate for a moment, but then you nod, allowing him to lift it higher, exposing your chest.

Lando’s breath catches in his throat as he looks at you, the soft curve of your body illuminated by the dim light in the room. He presses a kiss to your stomach, his lips warm against your skin.

“I’ve wanted this for so long,” he whispers, his voice thick with emotion. “You’re perfect.”

You let out a shaky breath, your hand resting on the back of his head as he kisses his way up your chest, his lips trailing along your skin. He pauses at your breast, his lips hovering just above the soft peak.

“Please,” he whispers again, looking up at you. “Let me.”

You nod, your breath shaky, and Lando takes that as permission. He leans in, his mouth closing around you, drawing you in with slow, deliberate movements. The sweet warmth floods his senses, and he feels a rush of satisfaction, of need.

You gasp softly, your fingers tightening in his hair, and Lando’s heart swells with a mix of desire and relief. He’s got you now. He knows he’s distracting you, pulling you away from the anger, and it’s working. You’re softening under his touch, your body responding to him.

He coos softly, his lips never leaving your skin. “You taste so good,” he murmurs, his voice low and soothing. “So perfect.”

You let out a soft whimper, your hand gripping his shoulder as he continues, his mouth moving gently, rhythmically. He can feel you relaxing, the tension slowly melting away, and it fills him with a deep sense of satisfaction. He’s in control now. He’s guiding you, distracting you, making sure you’re focused on him and nothing else.

“It’s okay,” he whispers, his voice soft and coaxing. “I’ve got you.”

Your breathing is shallow, your body trembling under his touch, and Lando can feel the shift in the room. The anger, the hurt — it’s slipping away, replaced by something else. Something more intimate, more vulnerable.

He pulls back slightly, his lips still brushing against your skin, his eyes looking up at you with that same soft, pleading expression. “I’m sorry,” he whispers again, his voice barely audible. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I just wanted to be close to you.”

You look down at him, your eyes still clouded with confusion and emotion, but you don’t pull away. Your hand stays on his shoulder, your fingers tightening slightly as if you’re holding on to him, grounding yourself.

Lando leans in again, pressing another soft kiss to your chest, his lips lingering there for a moment before he pulls back completely, sitting back on his heels and looking up at you.

“I love you,” he says quietly, his voice raw. “And I’ll do whatever it takes to make this right.”

You’re silent for a long moment, your chest rising and falling with deep, steady breaths. Finally, you speak, your voice soft, almost unsure. “This … this is a lot, Lando.”

He swallows hard, reading the uncertainty in your voice, feeling the weight of it settle between you. His heart races, but he knows he can’t push too fast. He doesn’t want to scare you, doesn’t want to lose what they’ve built. This delicate moment, the fragile balance between trust and something deeper — he can feel it teetering.

He stays where he is, kneeling at your feet, looking up at you with that same desperate softness in his eyes. His hands rest gently on your thighs, thumbs brushing back and forth, a soothing rhythm. He knows he has to choose his words carefully.

“I know,” he whispers, voice hoarse. “I know it's a lot. And I know I should’ve told you from the start. But …” He pauses, gathering his thoughts. “It felt right. The connection. The closeness. I just-”

Lando falters, unsure if he should say what’s really on his mind. That he's obsessed with the idea of you like this, that every time he sees you, he’s overcome with a need so deep, so primal, it almost scares him. But he swallows it back, not wanting to push too far, too fast.

Your gaze softens, and although the hesitation lingers in your eyes, you’re listening. You’re still here.

“I just wanted more of you,” Lando continues, his voice barely above a whisper. “Not just physically, but emotionally too. It’s been … it’s been overwhelming for me too, but I didn’t know how to explain it. I thought if we … if you … I don’t know. Maybe it was selfish, but I just-”

He looks down, his head hanging low as if ashamed, his hands still gently resting on your thighs. “I didn’t want to scare you off by talking about it. I thought you might think it was weird.”

Your hand reaches out, fingers lightly brushing the top of his head. He looks up at you again, the gentleness of your touch melting the knot of tension in his chest.

“I don’t think you’re weird,” you say quietly, the uncertainty still there but softer now, more understanding. “But … Lando, this is my body. You should’ve talked to me. We could’ve figured it out together.”

Lando nods quickly, his throat tightening. “I know, I know. And I’m so sorry for not being honest. I’ll do better, I swear. I’ll never hide anything from you again.”

Your thumb grazes his cheek as you watch him carefully, the anger you’d felt earlier fading into something else. Something gentler. “I just don’t understand why you didn’t ask me.”

He lets out a shaky breath. “I didn’t want you to say no,” he admits quietly. “Because … I don’t know if I could’ve handled that.”

Silence falls between you, thick with emotion. You let your hand fall away from his face, resting it in your lap as you consider his words, his vulnerability.

Lando can see the gears turning in your head, the mix of confusion, curiosity, and maybe — just maybe — something that mirrors his own desire. He watches you carefully, searching your face for any sign of where this might be heading.

Finally, you let out a soft sigh. “So, you … want me to keep … producing?”

Lando’s eyes widen slightly, and he nods, his heart racing again. “Only if you want to,” he says quickly, his voice soft but insistent. “I won’t push you. But … yeah. I do.”

Your gaze drifts down, and you chew on your bottom lip, thinking it over. Lando’s pulse quickens, the air between you charged with tension and something deeper, something unspoken.

After what feels like an eternity, you finally meet his eyes again, your expression hesitant but open. “And … you want to …”

Lando nods again, this time more firmly. “I do. But only if you're okay with it.”

The silence stretches again, but it feels different now. Lando can feel the shift, the softening. You’re not angry anymore. You’re curious, unsure, but there’s a flicker of trust in your eyes again. It’s fragile, but it’s there.

“You could’ve just asked me,” you say, your voice softer now, a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of your lips.

Lando exhales a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, his own smile breaking through the tension. “I know. I should’ve. I’m an idiot.”

You laugh softly, shaking your head, and the sound of it is like music to his ears. It’s a relief, like the storm clouds parting just enough to let a sliver of sunlight through.

He reaches out again, his hand gently resting on your knee, his touch warm and grounding. “But … do you want to?” He asks, his voice quiet, hesitant. “We don’t have to if you’re not comfortable. I mean it.”

You look down for a moment, your hands playing with the hem of your shirt, before meeting his eyes again. There’s still a flicker of uncertainty there, but now, there’s something else too. Something deeper. A kind of surrender, maybe, or an acknowledgment of the strange, intense connection that’s grown between you.

Finally, you nod, a small, hesitant movement. “Okay.”

Lando’s heart skips a beat. He wasn’t sure if he’d hear you say that, wasn’t sure if this moment would come. But now that it’s here, he feels a flood of emotion, a mix of relief, excitement, and something much deeper, something he can’t quite put into words.

“Yeah?” He asks, his voice soft, a little breathless.

You nod again, your gaze steady on his. “Yeah. I … I trust you.”

His chest tightens at your words, the weight of them sinking in. Trust. That’s what this all comes down to. You’re giving him that trust again, even after everything, and it means more to him than he can express.

Lando rises slowly, his movements careful and deliberate as he steps closer to you, kneeling between your legs again. His hands rest gently on your hips, his touch reverent, almost worshipful. He doesn’t want to rush this, doesn’t want to break the fragile balance you’ve reached.

“Thank you,” he whispers, his voice thick with emotion.

You nod, your breath a little shaky, but you don’t pull away. Instead, you reach down, guiding his hands to the hem of your shirt, helping him lift it up and over your head. The soft fabric falls to the floor, leaving your chest bare, vulnerable in the dim light.

Lando’s breath catches in his throat as he looks at you, his hands gently cupping your breasts. His thumbs brush over your skin, slow and deliberate, and you let out a soft gasp at the sensation.

“Are you okay?” He asks, his voice low and husky, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation.

You nod, your lips parting as you take a shaky breath. “Yeah. I’m okay.”

He leans in slowly, pressing a soft kiss to your chest, just above your heart. He feels the steady rhythm of your pulse beneath his lips, and it grounds him, reminding him of the connection you share.

His lips move lower, tracing a path along your skin, until he reaches your breast. He pauses, looking up at you one last time for permission. You nod again, your hand resting on the back of his head, gently guiding him closer.

And then, with a soft, reverent touch, Lando takes you into his mouth.

The sensation is immediate, overwhelming in its intensity. He feels the warmth of you, the sweet, rich taste filling his senses, and it’s everything he’s wanted, everything he’s imagined. You let out a soft moan, your body trembling slightly beneath him, and it only spurs him on.

His mouth moves slowly, rhythmically, savoring every moment, every drop. He’s careful, gentle, but there’s a hunger in him now, a need that he can’t deny. He’s wanted this for so long, and now that he has it, he can’t get enough.

You moan softly, your hand tightening in his hair, and Lando feels a surge of satisfaction, of deep, primal desire. He knows he’s crossed a line, knows that this moment is unlike anything you’ve shared before. But it feels right. It feels natural.

He pulls back slightly, his lips brushing against your skin as he murmurs, “You’re perfect.”

You let out a shaky breath, your body trembling beneath his touch. “Lando …”

He looks up at you, his eyes filled with a mix of desire and affection. “I love you,” he whispers, his voice raw. “I’ll always take care of you.”

And with that, you gently guide him back, helping him latch again. The room is quiet, save for the soft sounds of your breathing, the quiet intimacy of the moment wrapping around you both like a warm embrace.

And in that moment, nothing else matters. Just you, him, and the connection that binds you tighter than ever before.

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monstersholygrail · 2 months ago

Text

Wild Domination

Lion Hybrid bf x Antelope Hybrid fem!reader— exhibitionism, voyeurism, rough sex, aftercare

Your Lion Hybrid bf not choosing a Lion for his mate had been a very controversial choice within his pride. But he had stuck by it. Stuck by you, his Antelope Hybrid mate.

And you were gonna stick by him through it all too. No matter how often the other lion hybrids looked at you like you were their next meal. But not in the way your bf always did. Or how they whispered cruel words as you passed them by.

Though while you were determined to make friends, thinking if they loved you they’d be more accepting of you, your bf knew only one thing would work.

Dominance.

He had to show them all who was still leading his pride and that no disrespect to his mate would be tolerated. Because you were his love and the one who would be leading alongside him. So in a way you had to show your dominance. Or be dominated.

You shyly follow behind him as he gathers everyone to address his pride. The entire lot of you all standing in the large dining room of his home.

“I hear there is some uncertainty on the claim I have made to my mate,” your bf rumbles out, a subtle threat to his tone. They all avoid his gaze.

You blush as he brings you to stand in front of him. His hands on your shoulders and the comforting presence of his heat on your back helping to calm you. His hands draw down your body with desire, sliding along and groping at your delicious curves, feeling the flesh give away under his intense affection.

You don’t mean to but you end up meeting the eye of everyone at the other end of the table, seeing varying degrees of displeasure.

“I’ve brought you all here to clear any remaining doubt.”

You feel a light pressure on our back and you instantly submit, following your bf’s silent instructions. But your eyes widen as you find yourself bending over on top of the table, cheek squished against the glass.

“Love, what’re you doing?”

He doesn’t respond and for a moment you worry he hadn’t heard your breathless question. Then he flips up your dress and kicks your knees a part so that he can fit snuggly between your legs even with your tail. Any lingering questions fly out of your head the second he pushes your panties to the side and you feel his wet tip pushing through your folds.

“So that you know her heart is mine, her soul is mine, her body is mine, and most of all her perfect pussy is mine,” your bf says with a blissful sigh and he pushes into you.

With a growl he refuses to hold back, wanting everyone to understand the claim he has on you and that you have on him. His hands return to your shoulders as he starts pounding away at you, tail flicking furiously. You moan wildly, struggling to push back against his every thrust when he’s pinning your body down. But knowing you need even more of him.

The other Lion Hybrids look on, acceptance and denial in their expressions. Yet no matter what the smell of arousal was clear from both sides of the room. Your own bliss grows at the sight of them all enjoying the show and you cry out when your bf starts hitting those special spots inside of you, his length spearing through your gummy walls till your toes curl.

“Look at how well she takes my cock. Made for me to be inside of her. No one else- no one else can make me feel like this,” your bf snarls loudly, his voice echoing throughout the room as he keeps pumping his cock inside your tight cunt.

By now you can see just about everyone at the other end of the room touching themselves to the sight of you and your bf. It makes your skin buzz and your pussy flutter around your bf’s dick.

Your bf growls again and a second later you feel his hot breath on your neck. You shiver, leaning into him and his relentless thrusts. The new angle hitting even deeper inside you.

“You like this, sweetheart? Having our pride watch as I take your soaked cunt and stretch it with my cock,” He whispers in your ear and you can’t help but clench down on him, moaning raggedly.

He chuckles as if your reaction had given him all the answer he needed. His thrusts start to turn sloppy and erratic and you know he’s close. Wanting to feel you milk his cock, your bf grips your sensitive horns and guides your body back. You cry out, jerking in his hold but not wanting him to stop.

“Now I want you to cum and prove how much of a slut you really are for me.”

You immediately explode over his cock, your orgasm crashing through you as if just waiting for him to let you release. A long mewl leaves your lips as you unnaturally bend so you can feel him as deep inside you as possible. Your body shakes as your bf continues to snap his hips into your squeezing cunt and with how damn tight you are he can’t hold back his own climax for long.

It only takes a couple more snaps of his hips before he’s following after you, filling your pussy with every last drop of his cum he can. Moans from the other end of the table echo down the way but neither of you pay them any more mind.

He sits down in a nearby chair and pulls you into his arms. Cradling your plump frame in his broad chest and sagging against the piece of furniture. Your bf dares to relax before remembering the rest of the pride down the room. He gruffly dismisses them and as soon as you two are alone he sighs and buries his face in your neck.

“You’ll probably have to give a different version of that speech again. I don’t think anyone heard you,” you comment, lazily reaching up to brush your hands through his mane. A gentle rumble passes through your mate’s chest.

“Oh, I plan to rehearse this speech as many times as you can take me…”

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f1fantasys · 3 months ago

Note

I have a good idea. Reader is Lando's girlfriend and she has big breasts (all those big chested people) and there on a yacht for holidays, and one of Lando's friends keep looking at her chest making him angry.

So when everyone goes to bed, Lando makes sure he hears everything he is doing to reader.

Have a good day. 🫂

Summer Break

Warnings - smut, all smut, and swearing.

Summer break - sea, sun, sand, sex, beaches, bikini's, cocktails, and more sex - what more could one ask for?

You were currently soaking up the sun in Portugal with Lando, your besties Max and P, and some other friends. A whole week of fun with no restrictions and no camera's.

Today, you'd all hopped on a yacht which you were to spend the night on. As soon as it docked the music was blasting and the drinks were flowing.

You'd slipped away with Lando to go find your room and change into some swimwear. When Lando saw you take yet another skimpy bikini out of your bag, he groaned, taking you by surprise.

''Ugh baby, you don't know what you're doing to me wearing these everyday! You look so fucking hot. Makes me wanna jump you in front of everyone!'' he exclaimed.

''Huh, as if you aren't strutting around looking handsome as hell with your abs on display'' you rolled your eyes, smirking at him before he pulled you down to sit on his lap.

You cupped his face and sloshed your lips together, biting at and gnawing at his bottom lip as he slid his tongue into your mouth. You both fought each other til Lando moved his lips down to your neck and suckled and soothed at your neck, leaving a series of hickeys for later.

Your breath hitched as he started cupping your sex through your dress, it suddenly dawning on you just how wet you were.

''Need you, Lan'' you mumbled as he rid you of all your clothes, leaving you bare on his thighs.

''How the hell do you get this wet so quickly?'' he asked, eyes wide but a shade darker.

''Hmm let's call it the Lando effect'' you whispered as you slid off him to rid him of his own shorts and tee.

His cock sprang free, achingly hard and angry, as you pumped him a few times before you sucked at his tip and gave him a few mouth fucks to lube him up, not that he needed it because you were fucking dripping. He hissed at the contact, praising your name.

Since time was not on your side right now and it wouldn't be long until someone came looking for you, so you let him go with a pop and climbed on top of him before you sank down with one thrust.

Lando moaned into your hair as you held onto his shoulders and started riding him hard and fast. He settled his hands on your boobs and pinched your nipples through his fingers, earning himself delicious moans from you.

''Shh baby, gonna have to be quiet, unless you want the others to hear us'' he smirked, hands now on your hips and thrusting himself upwards to meet you half way.

What he said went through one ear and out the next, as your moans only got louder so Lando eventually had to settle by placing a hand over your mouth to muffle your sounds.

You played him by taking two of his fingers into your mouth, sucking on them while he kept his eyes glued to your.

''Fuck you're tight'' Lando said through gritted teeth. His fingers remained in your mouth as his other land reached down to pinch your clit.

''I'm gonna cu-'' but before you could finish your sentence your orgasm ripped through your body, making you shake and shudder in Lando's arms as your walls clenched tightly around his girth.

'''Fuck Lan'' you squealed as his movements got rougher, chasing his own high.

He let out a moan of your name as you felt him shoot his thick cum into you, dick twitching uncontrollably.

You both rode through your orgasms, trying to calm your breathing as Lando pulled you in for a gentle kiss. You ran your hand through his hair which was now sticking to his forehead due to the thin sheet of sweat he'd formed.

You gently slid off him, wincing at the loss of contact as you both cleaned up and eventually got dressed - you sliding into a red two piece that showed off your body in ways Lando couldn't describe. Your slightly-bigger-than normal boobs looked fucking amazing, and he knew he'd be hard all day by just looking at them.

You watched as he looked at your boobs, licking his lips.

''Fuck Lan stop, can't be looking at me like that in front of everyone, you smacked his arm playfully.

''Just looking at what I'll be having for round 2 tonight'' he replied, pecking your lips before you both chuckled and went back to your friends.

The mid morning-afternoon was going well. You were all lazying around, eating too much and drinking too much. Lando and Max had gone out jet skying while you and P opted to work on your tans.

As you layed on the sunbed with a few of the others, you couldn't help but notice one of your friends' friend - Cal, you think his name was - sending you flirty glances, shamelessly lowering his eyes to your chest whenever you looked at him.

You ignored him best you could, until you went to the bar to get another drink and he followed you there.

''Hey''' he said, approaching you.

''Uh, hey' you smiled, trying to be polite and walk away.

You succeeded, bumping into Lando as you turned the corner. He saw your expression was out of sorts.

''You okay?'' he asked.

''Yeah, let's go back to P'' you mumbled, letting the situation go.

As the afternoon and evening wore out you found yourselves sitting in a group, random stories and laugh flying around.

You noticed Cal still sending you weird glances, smirking at you. Lando had obviously noticed, so he squeezed your hand and gave you a knowing look.

By now though, you were starting to get really uncomfortable. You saw Lando's tee at the back of his chair and slid it on, hopefully that would avert Cal's eyes off of you.

It was a fail, he wasn't budging and you could feel Lando getting annoyed and fidgety in his seat.

Abruptly, you got up from yours and sat on Lando's lap, curling yourself into a ball as his arms instinctively wrapped around you.

''You ok?'' he whispered.

''Better now, yeah?'' you said, bringing your lips to his for a soft kiss though he slid his tongue into yours.

''This should show the ass that I'm taken'' you thought to yourself.

Lando made sure to keep you close throughout dinner, keeping the both of you as far as possible from Cal.

After some games and drinks, everyone started retreating back to their rooms for the night.

While you were getting ready for bed, Lando quickly popped to Max's room to get something. On the way back, he noticed Cal's room was actually next to your guys'. He smirked to himself, a plan forming in his head since it was just your two rooms on this end of the yacht.

You layed in bed, waiting for Lando, when he rushed into the room, stripping his clothes the moment the door was shut.

You gasped at him, smiling. ''Fuck me'' you said, eyes fixed on his growing cock.

''Trust me baby, I'm gonna'' he said, before launching himself at you, sending you into a fit of giggles.

He hovered above you, kissing you deeply, not getting enough. You moaned into the kiss, your hands finding his hair and pulling at it.

Lando lowered himself to bruise your neck, further south until he had one of your nipples in his mouth, biting at it harshly, as his fingered pinched at the other.

You back arched off the bed as his hand snaked down and cupped your sex, running his fingers through your folds.

''Please, Lando'' you begged.

He released your nipple from his mouth and looked at you.

''What do you want?'' he asked, smirking.

''You tongue'' you eagerly said, not caring how desperate you sounded.

He lowered himself some more and dove straight into your pussy, licking and sucking at your clit, his nose tickling your folds leaving you a breathless mess.

''Fuck, yes'' you moaned, breath hitching as he slid two fingers through your entrance, curling them at just the right time.

''So delicious baby, so fucking yummy'' he murmured.

With no warning you groaned as your orgasm, shaking your body under Lando's as your juices coated his fingers and lips.

''There we go'' he rode you through it, pepping your thighs with kisses before he sat on his heels and licked his fingers clean.

You watching him pump himself as you tried to catch your breath, your pussy clenching around nothing and desperate for more.

''Lan please, need to feel you'' you said, reached for his cock and lining him up at your entrance.

You held your breath as he slid in with ease, his mouth latching onto your nipple again.

He started thrusting into you at such a violent pace, you knew you couldn't keep your moans in, so while one hand dug deep into his biceps, you brought your other to cover your mouth and muffle your moans.

Just as you did that, Lando ripped your hand away from your mouth, shocking both you and himself at how rough he was.

''Fuck, sorry'' he said, still slamming in and out of you, but entwining your hands together.

''Don't hold it in, be as loud as you want'' he said through gritted teeth.

You showed him a confused look, breathing increasing at how his dick was twitching inside of you.

''What?'' you asked.

''Let that motherfucker next door know who you belong to. Remind him who gets to fuck you'' he said, grunting his way through the sentence.

Then it clicked in you, and your own eyes turned shades darker.

You spoke louder than usual. ''Fuck, Lando, yes, harder, deeper, please'' you begged, moaning as loud as you could.

The thrill of this quickly sent you over the edge again, releasing your cum all over Lando's cock as let out his own series of grunts at the feeling of you.

He quickly slid out of you and pulled you up, pushing you towards the wall that joined your room to that bastards'.

Your hands landed flat against the wall as Lando's chest was pressed against your back. He fucked his dripping dick back through your cunt and held onto your hair, pulling at it as he banged into you relentlessly.

''Hmm fuck. Harder'' you all but shouted as Lando had now braced his arms onto your shoulders and continued his ministrations of slamming into you.

''Taking me so fucking well babygirl, so fucking tight for me, letting me fill you up'' he moaned, his head now by your ear so you could feel his erratic breathing. You knew he was close now - so were you.

''Make me cum Lando'' you pressed, as he brought his hand to your clit again and pulled at it.

You body quickly responded, another orgasm fluttering through you violently, you body shaking and unable to hold itself up in Lando's arms.

He was now chasing his own high, movements becoming sloppier by the second.

''Fuck y/n, feels so good'' he moaned again.

You decided to help it out whispering dirty nothings to him which sent him over the edge, sheets and sheets of warm sticky cum filing you up to the brink. He swore a few more times, loud enough for Cal to probably hear, as both your movements slowed and you tried to catch you breath.

You couldn't help but giggle at Lando's antics.

You turned around and cupped his face. ''Only yours, Lan, and only you get to fuck me'' you said, smirking as he slid out of you and cleaned you both up, unable to wipe the smile off his face.

You'd both had a good fuck, which meant a good nights sleep.

At breakfast the next morning, you both noticed the uncomfortable look on Cal's face. Max had just asked how everyone slept.

''Fucking best sleep of my night'' Lando mumbled, smiling at you.

He pulled you in for a deep kiss in front of everyone, in case they needed a reminder of whose you were.

''Oh yeah, we can guess how that went'' Max said, giving Lando a pat on the back.

You didn't miss how Lando sent a wink Cal's way, before you kissed him again, sliding your tongue into his mouth and moaning loudly for everyone to hear and give you a series of cheers.

#f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 #f1 smut #lando norris #f1 fic #lando x reader #lando norris smut #lando smut

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ervotica · 8 months ago

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thinkin about a hidden relationship w best friend’s brother!rafe — lol this is so unserious but i <3 rafe

perspiration clings to your every pore as you saunter into the kitchen with a swish of your hips, clad in a tiny triangular bikini that barely covers your peaked nipples. rafe cops an eyeful as you lift an arm to push your hair out of your face, scowling before he eats the space between you and presses his chest to your bare back.

“why you parading around in this shit, huh?” he rasps in your ear, a broad palm snaking down to palm at the globe of your ass. the sides of your boobs are visible, spilling from the sides of the flimsy material, every movement sending you closer to a nip slip. rafe curses his sister; if it weren’t for her, he’d have his way with you right over the kitchen counter.

“i’m tanning.” you roll your eyes as if it’s obvious, tipping back your head to take a long sip of water.

“slut,” he seethes.

“prick,” you trill back, a perky grin cracking your expression; he fights his own amused smile, pinching your exposed side until you squeal and leap away from him. you brush past him, every inch of your skin begging to be touched, groped with hands and teeth and lips.

“come back here,” he demands; you blow him a kiss as you make your way back to the pool to lounge with sarah, balancing a cap precariously on top of your head until loose wisps curl around your ears where they’re pressed flat to your temples. you wiggle your fingers through the open doorway in a taunt.

bending down, you set your drink down by the edge of the pool and before you can straighten yourself, a pair of warm hands grab at your sides, lifting you and spinning until you’re moved out of his path; your head spins. rafe grins, sticking his middle finger up in a gesture that has your nose crinkling in disdain even as heat prickles up your spine from his touch alone. sarah groans.

“stop bothering her, you perv!” she yells, and you dip your head to hide the flush that creeps over your neck and heats your cheeks. she rolls onto her stomach and lays down, eyes falling shut, and rafe takes the opportunity to sneak a filthy kiss, prying your lips open with his tongue and a set of rough digits clamping around your bared throat. his spit clings and stretches across your bottom lip as he pulls away.

“comin’ to my room later, princess?” he whispers; you shoo him away, flustered, but nod regardless.

“get outta here,” you giggle. he winks, his tongue pressed to the inside of his cheek.

you wobble your way back over to sarah’s side, lightheaded. she scowls in her brother’s direction.

“he’s such a dickhead,” she murmurs. you snort and roll your eyes.

“tell me about it.”

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illusioninfnty · 1 year ago

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day 13 ; mommy kink

↠ brahms heelshire x reader

fandom: the boy word count: 1k warnings: nsfw 18+, dom!reader, unprotected sex, creampie, slight choking (m receiving)

kinktober m.list || read on ao3

Nighttime in the Heelshire mansion was always your favorite. Brahms still preferred the comfort of his spaces within the walls during the days. He only came out when the sun went down, the only light source being the glimmer of the moon.

At night, you could do whatever you wanted to him.

Your hips bounce up and down on top of Brahms, his cock filling you so perfectly. You’re able to move yourself so that the tip of it hits you in just the right spot, causing you to see stars.

“So good for me,” you croon. Brahms’ hands tighten around your hips at your words. His muscles tense as you continue to ride him and his cock throbs inside of you.

Brahms was still mostly clothed, his pants unbuttoned and underwear pulled down to unsheath his cock. His wife beater was doused in his sweat, sticking to his chest.

And that damn mask. No matter what you did, you could never convince him to take it off.

Even now, as he lay trembling underneath you, his soft moans echoed out of the porcelain mask that covered his face.

You lean over him and ghost your hands over his neck. Brahms cranes his head up, pressing deeper into the bedsheets, almost as if inviting you closer. You let one hand rest on his neck, thumb caressing it gently while your other trails down his chest, finding its way under his top to stroke his stomach.

Gyrating your hips on his cock, you moan. “Touch my clit, Brahms.”

He obeys immediately, removing a hand off your hip to bring it to your clit. He rubs the area harshly, yet just enough to still make you feel good. He’s been learning, you think.

You smirk at his complacency. “Good boy.”

A soft gasp, almost inaudible, escapes his lips. If you were anyone else you probably would have not heard it. But you were used to Brahms’ quiet nature and always paying attention to him.

The effect those words had on him were more than you expected. His hips, previously still and under your full control, begin to buck up into you. Through the mask, you can see his eyes widen and pupils dilate. His breathing is even heavier than before, and the hand placed upon his neck can feel as he swallows hard.

“P…please…” he stutters out in a whisper. “Mommy.”

Your ears perk up. Mommy? He’s never called you that before.

“Speak up,” you command. You tighten around him, and he gasps in surprise.

“Mommy!” He whines out, his hips bucking more furiously into you. He thrusts into you harder than he’s ever done. You’ve always been the one to take initiative and control the pace as you sit on top of him.

But it seems as though he’s fueled by this, as if you’ve just discovered an innate pleasure deep inside of him. You can’t help but groan at how much his cock presses into you with the newfound force of his thrusts. Your hands grip him tighter.

If he was going to get so much pleasure out of calling you Mommy, who were you to deny him that?

“You’re doing so well, baby,” you say. Brahms pants from under his mask, and his cock seems to grow bigger—if that was even possible. It feels so good inside you.

If his mask was off, you knew that you would be able to see a blush across his features. “Thank you Mommy,” he whimpers out.

Some of his dark curls begin to stick to the top of his mask from all the sweat coming out of him. You push some of them away, getting a better look. Brahms looks up at you as if you’ve hung the stars in the sky. All this from your indulgence in his fantasies.

You bounce up and down on his thick cock, much harder than before.

“Mommy!” Brahms calls out. His chest heaves and his cock pulses as he rapidly thrusts up, chasing his release. “Feels so good, Mommy!”

“Does my good boy want to cum?” you coo, mocking him gently. Brahms’ head nods rapidly, soft whines leaving his lips. “Mommy will only let you cum if you help her first.”

He immediately follows your commands. He rubs circles on your clit and holds your hip with his other hand to ground himself as he pistons into you. The bed creaks under the intensity of his thrusts.

Your own back is arched, chasing more of the fullness you feel with Brahms inside you. You tighten your hands around Brahms, returning one to his neck while the other remains on his lower stomach, and he groans lowly.

“There you go, baby. Make Mommy cum.” You can feel how close you are to your peak. Between Brahms' cock pistoning in and out of you, his soft whimpers coming from below, and the thick fingers he has rubbing against your clit, it’s only a matter of seconds before you reach it.

“Oh fuck,” you moan and throw your head back, the multiple areas of pleasure overwhelming you. Your orgasm comes not even seconds later, your pussy even slicker than before with the wetness of it.

When you recover from it, you can see how Brahms' arms tremble, a sign he was fighting back the urge to cum at that very moment.

You smile down at him. “Mommy’ll let you cum now,” you say.

Brahms lets out a sigh of relief. “Thank you Mommy, thank you,” he repeats over and over as his cum jets out of him and into your pussy. You feel the heat enter you in groves and some of it spill out onto the sides of his cock, wetting it even more as his thrusts persist.

The hand on his neck moves up to his cheek, caressing the area not concealed by the mask.

Brahms’ thrusts finally stop as he comes down from his peak, short gasps escaping his mouth. You lean down over him.

“Mommy’s so proud of you, baby,” you whisper into his ear.

Brahms whimpers in response, and his cock pulses back to life.

#kinktober #kinktober 2023 #brahms x reader #brahms heelshire x reader #the boy x reader #brahms heelshire smut

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throneofsmut · 1 month ago

Text

Kinktober Day 1: Breeding

Azriel and Eris Vanserra x Reader || WC: 1.2K

A moan works its way up your throat and Eris swallows it greedily. Deepening your kiss as Azriel continues kissing and sucking on your neck while rubbing tight circles on your clit.

You fist both of their cocks in each hand, pumping and twisting, their low groans filling your ears.

Azriel adds more pressure to your sensitive bundle of nerves, and you pull away from Eris, lips swollen, chest heaving slightly. “Does that feel good, bunny?” Azriel murmurs against your skin.

“Mhmm,” you moan, nodding.

“She wants more though?” Eris grunts between soft huffs of breath. Pinching and pulling your taut nipples making your back arch, “Don’t you, pretty girl?”

Your answer is a breathy whimper.

He pinches one of your nipples harder, “Yes or no?”

“Yes, yes, yes!” You chant desperately.

Azriel chuckles. “What our pretty girl wants, she gets.” Then he picks you up, placing you on top so you’re straddling him. He grabs his hard length at the base then rubs it between your folds. “Fuuuck she’s soaked for us, Eris,” Azriel groans. “You hear how soaked you are for us, bunny?”

“Yeah,” you whisper. “I can hear it.” And it was true, the wet sounds of him rubbing himself against you only making you wetter. Clenching around nothing as he covers himself in your arousal. “Az, please. Fuck me!”

Your only warning is his wings twitching beneath him as slides all the way, till he’s fully seated inside you. Both of you gasp at the feeling of him stretching you open.

Splaying your hands on his muscled chest, you start riding him, and he meets you stroke for stroke.

Then you feel Eris grip your ass with one hand, squeezing, before trailing his hand up your spine. Leaving goosebumps in its wake. His fingers tangle in the strands at the nape of your neck, and with a swift motion, he fists your hair, angling his hips towards you.

His other hand wraps around his cock as he runs the tip of it on your lips. Making your soft kiss-swollen lips glisten with his precum.

Azriel’s large scarred hands grip your hips keeping you in place just how he wants and he slams into you faster. Deeper.

“Open your mouth, pretty girl.” Eris instructs.

You do. Sticking your tongue flat out, he taps his thick heavy cock on it a couple times before you close your lips around it.

He exhales, a breath of pleasure escaping his lips.

Azriel’s thrusts forcing you to take Eris deeper. Your eyes begin to glisten the more you sputter around the size of him, gagging every time the tip of his cock hits the back of your throat, and he chuckles. “That’s it,” Eris drawls. “Just like that pretty girl.”

His words, Azriel’s hands on you, and both of their sounds of pleasure have heat pooling in your lower back.

Your walls flutter around Azriel’s cock. “Gonna come already, bunny?” He murmurs between grunts. “You’re close. I can feel you.”

You moan in reply around Eris’s cock, the vibrations of it making his hips buck, “Shit,” Eris curses. “Make her cum, Az.”

“Always do,” Azriel says proudly. He dips his head down towards your tits, nipping, biting, and sucking on them. Heat spreads under your skin.

Eris pulls out of your mouth and you gasp when Azriel tugs on one of your nipples with his teeth.

You suck in a sharp breath, cumming, your legs shaking as you dissolve into pleasure, Eris crashing his lips into yours. Kissing you as you cum around Azriel’s length.

“Gods,” Azriel hisses. “She’s milking the fuck outta my cock, Eris.”

Eris moans. Then he pulls away, running a hand through his silky red hair, “Yeah?”

“Y–fuck–yeah,” Azriel answers between moans.

You start kissing and sucking the skin of his neck. “Cum in me,” you whisper.

“Yeah? You want me to cum inside you, bunny?”

Nodding, you feel his cock twitch inside of you. “Cum inside me, Az.” You nip at the skin of his jaw, then face him, placing a heated kiss against his lips. Leaning down, “I want you to fill me up,” you purr into his ear. “Breed me, Az. Put a babe in me.” Lightly dragging a nail along one of the ridges in his wings.

With one last powerful thrust, he spills himself inside you, your name falling from his lips as he falls over the edge. His fingers digging into the soft flesh of your hips.

Eris moves, kneeling behind you on the bed. Placing kisses to your back as you ride Azriel through his orgasm. Moaning at the feeling of his cock pulsing inside you, and only after you wring every ounce of pleasure from Azriel, you lift off of him.

You feel Azriel’s cum about to drip out of you, but before it can Eris buries himself inside you, pushing it back in.

Shifting on your hands and knees as he stretches you with his thick cock.

Screaming out when he starts to play with your clit. The feather-light touches on your clit while desperately pumping in and out of you make your nerves feel like they’re on fire.

He fists your hair again, pulling you towards him, your back pressing against his firm chest. “Too much?” He growls, “Or can you take it, pretty girl?”

“I-I can ta-take,” you whimper between choked sobs.

You can’t see him but you know he’s grinning. “You want me to fill you up too?”

“Please.”

“You want me to breed you?”

“Yes!”

“Want to be full of our cum so you can have our babes?” You moan unabashedly at the idea of them getting you pregnant. “You want your belly nice and round? Your tits full and heavy?”

“Yes, please!” you beg.

“Whatever you want,” he breathes, letting go of your hair, and you catch yourself on the bed. His hips snapping against your ass.

Azriel’s hands cradle your face as he starts placing tender kisses all over it. Then he leans back, propping himself up on an elbow, and you angle your head down, capturing his lips. He smiles against yours.

His free hand palms your tits then moves down the front of your body, rubbing and flicking your clit, making your hips jolt at the sensation. You exhale a sharp breath through your nose, still kissing him.

Smirking against his lips, you reach down and wrap a hand around his length, stroking him at the same pace Eris fuck you in. He pulls back, breath hitching.

Eris reaches both hands under you. Holding you up while one hand plays with your tits while the other splays across your tummy. “Ah,” you moan at the pressure.

Spreading your legs further apart, you reach down and play with Eris’s balls.

He gasps, “Mother’s tits.” You smile and continue to play with them, squeezing them lightly.

Eris changes the angle of his hips, shockwaves gripping your body as the head of cock hits that sweet spot inside of you, and you let go of Azriel’s cock, gripping his shoulders instead.

Strangled noises escaping your lips as you shatter between both males. Your own orgasm pushing Eris over the edge, and he spills himself inside you, hip stuttering as your name falls from your lips.

Eris pulls out of you once he’s well and truly spent and you melt against Azriel. Twitching when you feel Eris pushing back in both of their releases with his fingers.

Both of them murmuring sweet nothings to you while Azriel smooths your hair back and Eris lays down beside both of you. Rubbing your soothing circles on your back.

****

A/N: I haven’t written in so long, let alone smut so pls be nice 😖

****

Taglist: @daycourtofficial @03michi01 @impossibelle @the-sweet-psycho @aestheticalien99 @itsinherited @a-courtof-azriel @lalalucha @theonewithwritersblock @blessthepizzaman @the-starlight-way @anama-cara @halo-hanging @fhgsvbnh @p1nkfluffysocks @cynthiesjmxazrielslover @wolfbc97 @importantduckhumanoidpatrol @edance2000 @velarisnightsky444 @headcaseproductions1 @mellyy-1 @caticorn61 @baileybird71 @tiredsleepyhead @rosecobollway

(Comment to be added to the taglist or you can also turn on post notifitcations !!)

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moonstruckme · 1 month ago

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hihi mae!! in honor of the season, could i request reader convincing bodygaurd!james to carve pumpkins together. and it’s basically just him on the brink of cardiac arrest bc reader is using the biggest butcher knife possible, like an absolute menace, and he’s 100% convinced she’s gonna saw her fingers off lol. thx for considering ♡

Thank you lovely!!

bodyguard!James x fem!reader ♡ 814 words

James has half a mind to find you a plastic knife and let you make do with that. It might take you a while longer, yeah, but at least he wouldn’t have to feel every muscle in his body tense each time you stab the knife you’ve picked through your pumpkin.

“I thought you were doing a cat,” he says, watching you push another piece out from what will be your pumpkin’s mouth.

“I am.”

“Why does it have fangs?”

“It just felt like it should.” You shrug. “Sort of spookier that way, right? Maybe it’s a vampire cat.”

“And here I thought it was going to be cute.”

You smile at him. “No, Jamie. That’s yours.”

With all his attention on making sure you don’t slash yourself, James has made pitifully little progress on his own pumpkin. He’s only managed to cut out the nose, but when he’s done it’s going to be a classic, smiling jack-o-lantern, except with hearts for eyes. You’d beamed and called it fitting when James told you his plan. He’s been ruminating over what you could have meant by that ever since.

For his own project he’s using a small paring knife, mostly because he’d hoped you’d follow his example (what wishful thinking that was) but also because James doesn’t tend to do well with precision and he didn’t see a big knife helping matters. You, however, have selected what may be the largest knife he’s ever seen. He can’t comprehend what a beast that size would even be necessary for in a kitchen, much less for carving a pumpkin. Your unskilled grip on the handle makes the hairs on his arms stand on end.

“I think we ought to find you a different tool,” he tries again.

“James, you worry too much.” You roll your eyes, hardly looking as you shove your knife through the flesh of your pumpkin. He flinches. “This one is working fine.”

“Right, I just feel like—” You do it again. James worries he’s developing an eye twitch. “—like possibly I’m not doing my job by letting you handle a weapon like that.”

“It’s not a weapon, it’s a kitchen knife.”

Again, not a clue what in the kitchen could require a knife that large.

“I think its capacity for injury is the same regardless, angel. Let me have it, please? That way I can keep working here and you can keep all of your fingers.”

“You need to chill out,” you say, unnervingly serene for someone who seems to James on the precipice of life-changing injury. “This knife is the perfect size for how big I want my eyes to be. If I have to saw using another one, they won’t look as clean.”

“Is that really worth risking your hand for?”

“Yes. I want the triangles to look nice when I stick them onto the top as its ears.”

“How are you going to do that?”

“With toothpicks.”

Right. A more moderate risk of injury, for sure, but James is now too high-strung to imagine anything other than disastrous outcomes between you and sharp objects. He imagines you skewering one of your lovely fingertips on a toothpick, the surprised look on your face when it happens. His own heart bursting straight out of his chest from overexertion.

“Maybe I could do that part for you,” James suggests weakly.

“Shit.” You’re looking into your hollow pumpkin. “The eye won’t come out.”

“Let me try.”

“No, I’ve got it.”

Before he can stop you, you’re sticking your knife inside your pumpkin. It comes spearing out the other side a moment later, the triangle of one eye impaled on its tip. James chokes on a gasp as you stop it within inches of your abdomen.

“There,” you say satisfiedly.

James makes a strangled sound. “No,” he says, seizing your wrist and carefully removing the knife from your hand. “No, I can’t do it. We’re swapping.”

“What?” You look at him with wide, wounded eyes. It’s adorable, compelling even, but James won’t allow himself to budge. “But your knife is so lame.”

James guffaws. He feels half delirious. This is it, he thinks. His love for you has finally driven him insane.

“It’s not lame.”

You pout. “It’s tiny.”

“Sweetheart.” James sets the knife down to hold your face in both hands. You go still with surprise. “If you stab yourself with your giant knife, I won’t be around to get fired. I’ll die of heartbreak. Do you understand?”

You roll your eyes at him, but you’re softening. “You really like my hands that much?”

“I like all of you. In tact. You’re perfect as you are.”

“Fine, whatever.” You pull your face from his grasp, picking up the smaller knife. “I know you secretly just wanted to be the one with the bigger knife, though.”

“Yeah, you’ve caught me. Can’t get anything past you.”

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xoluvx · 26 days ago

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sit on my face; b.eilish

smut

"Please, baby." Billie whispered in your ear as she leaned into you. Her fingers curled around your thigh seductively. It burned where she touched you and sent a tingling sensation down your body that made your knees weak and your heart flutter.

You side-eyed her, watching her carefully as she tried hiding her face behind your arm. The desperation was written all over her face and you had to admit you loved watching her squirm. You loved watching her face with pink cheeks, biting her lip shyly.

"Tell me what you want," you whispered running your hand along her cheek before pushing her hair back revealing her flushed face as she leaned on your shoulder. Her fingers were digging into your thigh as she brought herself closer, whimpering.

"Words, Billie." You instructed turning so the side of your body was leaning on the couch and you were facing her completely. Your hand buried itself in her hair tugging only slightly causing her eyelids to flutter and her lips to part as head leaned into you.

"Sit on my face, please." Her voice was soft as her eyes focused on your lips. They curled in a smirk as you pulled her face closer. So close you were breathing the same air. Your noses brushed and you could feel the desperation seeping from her parted lips. When she swallowed, her arm wrapped around your waist.

She leaned into you completely and you kissed her fiercely. Her hair tangled in your hands. You held her head as your tongues touched, as your breathing grew heavy, as you pushed her back on the couch until she was lying flat on her back.

When you pulled away, her eyelids fluttered open and she bit her lip as you tugged on your sweats pulling them down your legs, pushing them to the end of the couch. She laid back in anticipation as you looked at her with a sheepish smirk.

It's not that you'd never sat on her face. You had. Plenty of times. It was just something that'd come naturally. So you found it extra cute that she's asked for it in the middle of the day while you laid on the couch.

She licked her lips when your body slithered up the couch planting your legs on either side of her face. She inhaled looking up at you, her eyes filled with need as lowered your body. Her hands rested on the side of your thighs as she stuck out her tongue trying to reach you before you were ready. Planting the palm of your hand on her forehead, you pushed her back slightly shaking your head. Her tongue was still sticking out as cupped your ass pulling you down on her face until you relinquished every ounce of power. Willingly.

Her tongue on your pussy was pure magic. Her fingers on your skin were enchanting. How she gripped you and swayed you and pulled you down on her face. How her tongue rotated and slurped and dipped in your pussy.

When she stuck out her tongue, you held on to the arm rest and moved your body so fucking yourself on her tongue. Stimulating your clit until you were sensitive and throbbing. Lowering yourself until her tongue filled your tight pussy.

Taking back control, she wrapped her arms tightly around your thighs pulling you hard on her face. She caught you by surprise and you gasped, gripping the top of her head trying to gain your balance as she devoured you with little mercy. Her nose pressed against your cunt. Her tongue moved as her lips wrapped around your sensitive clit sucking.

Her eyes were closed lost in the taste of your dripping pussy. You watched her briefly so turned on that even in her tight grip you managed to move your hips and grind on her face until your legs were quivering and you were having a hard time sitting up. She didn't stop. Even as your movements faltered, she held you close. She was ravenous. Determined to finish her midday snack.

Moaning and whimpering you attempted to close your thighs, but her grip was tight. You were trapped. Forced to feel every teeny tiny sensation that coursed from the tip of your toes to the top of your head. Magnified when she moved her head and her nose rubbed your pussy and her tongue lapped your wetness and her lips sucked harder until your little sensitive bundle of nerves imploded on her tongue like fireworks.

"Oh my god," you quivered out of breath. Her hair was wrapped around your fingers like the rings that decorated her hands and gripped your warm thighs. It physically hurt to unravel them from your digits. It felt like a million tiny shards on your hands. Million little electric shards like the tingles that were still coating your body as you came down from your incredibly satisfying high.

diaween 2024 💖

#billie eilish #billie eilish x reader #billie eilish x y/n #billie eilish x you #billie eilish x fem!reader #billie eilish fic #billie eilish fanfiction #billie eilish imagine #billie eilish oneshot #billie eilish smut #diaween 2024

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andrsnsgirl · 4 months ago

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if you had known that opening a car washing service to raise money for your sophomore trip would have led to you to be bent down on the hood of a car with a pink, squiring dildo in your pussy, you would have done it way earlier. you must admit the idea was quite the eureka moment. it's summer and it hasn't rained for days, all sports have stopped for the summer and being back in town whilst your parents worked all day was feeling a little depressing which was leading to the cars in the town being covered by a thin layer of dust and to you being constantly hot and in need of a cold shower. it wasnt that hard to put the two things together.

you distributed flyers around, hung them up in diner’s, cafe’s and along the street, choose a large empty spot near the road and that was it. d-day was hot and dry, and you only smiled more staring at your pretty outfit in the mirror. low cut jeans shorts that barely covered your ass and your pink coral reef bikini set, one you knew was going to become transparent with the first lick of water, transparent enough to give your clients the show of your pierced nipples. after all, you knew a good show was gonna bring more money, and you didn't intend to waste that opportunity.

with a touch of gloss on your lips and throwing your hair in an up-do, you were ready to go. you had not been wrong. your clients, mostly men somehow, had enjoyed the show, whistling at you while you washed their windows, wet shirt clinging to your chest and foam all over your neck and legs. you had played along, giggling and swaying your hips while humming to the song playing on the radio, smiling widely at the generous tips. and then she had came along. abby, the new boxer trainer down at the gym. you had seen her many times there, she and dina staring at you from the glass window with the excuse of watching dina’s girlfriend, ellie training. well, dina was staring at her girlfriend. but you? you couldn't take your eyes off abby, from her arms popping with veins, tattoos littered in all the right places and sweaty long hair falling in her face as she tucked one side behind her ear.

you got aroused just by staring at her that day, and remembers a long cold shower afterwards, using your favourite clear dildo to fuck yourself open, coming, chanting abby’s name. and now she was here, with a black tank top showing off her muscled shoulders and gym shorts that gave you the perfect view of the thighs you wanted to ride with abby’s hands wrapped around your neck. you see the last car of the day pull up and make sure to refill your tub of now extremely soapy water and put on your best smile despite the main attraction being your body.

abby lowers down her tinted window, smiling at you, "hey, [redacted] right?" you simply nod your head, biting your lips, "yep, that's me" abby just nods, slowly staring you up and down, you feeling proud when you see her stare fixing on the low edge of your shorts. abby coughs and gives you her money, "uhm, thank you for this, i hope it's enough?" you just hums and nods, turning around and going to dunk the buckets in the soapy water and bring them over to her car. you’re excited, adrenaline running in your veins. you’re gonna give abby the best show ever made.

abby is flustered, her ears get all red and hot. the strap in her shorts becomes increasingly uncomfortable to be wearing as she sits behind her car wheel and watches you wash her car. but really she can’t be blamed. she’s pretty sure you are doing it on purpose to rile her up because in no way, shape or form do you need to extend like that to clean the hood, your shorts rising up until all ass is sticking out and you pause the wash before completely undressing yourself out of the shorts, leaving you in just your bikini set. she almost honked her horn because she didn’t think you were wearing any sort of underwear. water falls on your lips trailing to the chest and she curses when she see’s the outline of your nipple piercings poking through the top. you sigh and look at the progress you’ve made, you’ve been working all day without a break and was in desperate need of one.

abby thinks you must be enjoying this game when she sees you prance up to her window with a tilted head. “hey do you mind if i have a 5 minute break”, you whine “it’s hot and i’ve been working all day” abby bites her tongue to not curse, shifting uncomfortably in her seat pushing her strap down, trying to hide it, “uh s..sure.” you watch the movements of her hands and uncomfortableness and take note of her crimson red ears. you giggle, biting your lip once again “cute” you mumble.

the second your break is up you’re right back washing the rest of her car. skin tanned so perfect and on display. your dermals perfectly gleaming in the sun in front of abby, so ready to be marked kissed and ruined. abby inhales and runs her fingers through her hair turning her ac on blast to help cool herself. all she wants to do is get out her car and fuck you open until you go limp, seeing your juices around her strap and coming all over that ass she’s beginning to love. you’re staring at her, all flushed, wet and pretty and abby has her face in both her hands as she groans out loud at the sight. she breaks out of it when you tap her back window. “there is an area that i can’t seem to reach, care to help me?” and abby knows, she knows you’re playing a game and God she wishes this game would end exactly how she wants it to, which means you bent on the front of the fucking hood, moaning loud enough for every bystander to turn their heads.

abby follows you outside, and you just smile at her before bending yourself on the hood, your arms stretching in front of you, trying to reach a point near the windscreen. abby inhales sharply, hands itching to trace the skin of your back and hips, to pull down that stupid string that dangles on the sides of your bottoms and spread your legs right there and then. you wiggle below her, "can you reach it?"

abby breathes slowly, clearing her throat before lowering down, covering your body with her own and bringing the sponge in your hand where she wants it. she inhales when her chest comes in contact with your wet back, the girl beneath her letting down a soft sigh at the weight above her. "h-here you g-"

abby’s words are cut off by you bucking up under her, your ass pushing back against abby's strap, her end digging in to her clit. a whiny curse comes out of her mouth, your eyes fluttering shut getting a feel of the silicone shape. abby stands still, afraid that if she moves, or if you do it again, she wont be able to contain herself. that's exactly what you want apparently.

the smaller girl turns her head on the side, staring right into abby before you buck up again. you moan at the feeling, eyes wide still staring at abby. "i know you want to fuck me" you mumble, ass moving is small circles on abby's strap, adding more pressure very time, "good thing i haven't stopped thinking about your cock splitting me in half in days.”

abby curses before crashing your lips together, grabbing at your hips to maintain balance. abby unties the string of a bikini you wore and pulls them down your legs. when she gets up, is to the view of a pretty naked girl spread on the hood of her car, legs wide open and fingers playing with her folds and head back. "please a..abby", you whine, foam and water falling from your hair, thighs and back. abby curses, quickly undoing her drawstring and dropping her shorts on the wet ground. she wraps her hand around her own cock, slapping your pussy with "fuck look at you" she says, her finger already circling your clit, "spread out like this on my car, opening yourself up for me. you want my cock that bad?"

you whine, bucking up when abby finally pushes her fingers past the ring of muscle, stretching you out, "y-yes " you mumble, "been thinking about you ever since i saw you in the g-gym window, wanted your cock right there and then" abby hums, fingering you slowly. you are loud, whining and moaning and pushing back against her fingers, asking her to fuck you faster, deeper. "your cock a-abs, your cock" you sight, spreading your legs even wider. abby kneads her fingers in your pussy, drinking in the way you gape and suck her fingers in. she can only imagine how tight we will be around her cock.

and the reality is better than imagination in this case, because the moment you push in, abby knows you won't last long. you let out a silent moans, your walls incredibly tight around abby's cock. both of them are breathing loud, adjusting to the new wonderful feeling. abby trying to grip your waist, the skin slipper from the soap and water. after a minute, you look at her over your shoulder, wet strands of hair sticking to your forehead and neck. you look absolutely breathtaking, tears at the edge of your eyes and lips puffed and red, "move abby please", you plead, "just fuck me p-please" and abby is a weak woman.

she pulls out almost completely, before thrusting right back in, you letting out a loud moan, yours head falling down on the hood with a loud thump, "y.yeah like that". abby keeps thrusting in and out, your body moving along the hood, moans and groans and sighs filling the empty space. she knows she’s fucking you hard, and yet you keep demanding more, faster, harder.

so abby can only grab your thighs and piston with immense strength. you’re falling apart with every thrust, too gone to sound coherent anymore. "fuck you're so fucking tight.. God look at you" abby groans, clit twitching when you push back to fuck on her cock, your hips meeting midway, "taking it so well, you were born to take cock weren't you?"

and you can only nod and whine, mumbling about how good she feels, how full you are. it's when you get up on your elbows, fucking yourself back on abby's cock with the small energy you mustered up, head laid back and the muscles of her back tensing that abby tops over the edge, barely able to pull out before shooting the faux cum all over your back with a loud moan. you whine at the loss, body shaking by being so /close/ and yet not able to come yet. you wiggle on the hood, "please abs i wanna come"

and abby pushes herself to her knees the next second, pulling your cheeks apart and sucking at your swollen clit, her tongue lazily thrusting up and down your slit. with the warm wet feeling of her tongue, you double over, body spasming with the force of your orgasm, spurring white all over abby’s face and dripping on to the hood of the car. it takes a couple of minutes for both to calm down, a minute in which they kiss slowly, abby massaging the skin of your back.

you chuckle when she gets up, and sees the mess on both herself and the car. you turn towards abby, who's staring at the ground, a blush coloring her flustered face and ears seem to have an even deeper red. you just giggle and string your bikini bottom back on going to your bag to out back on your shirt and shorts, before walking towards her and ruffling her hair, "guess i owe you another service since the car is even dirtier than before dont you think?" abby laughs and nods, you wrapping your arms around her neck.

#andrsnsgirl #‿︵‿୨margot’s drabbles୧‿︵‿#abby anderson x reader #margot writes︵︵ ིྀ #this is so slutty #abby anderson #tlou2 #abby tlou #im pulling these out my ass #abigail anderson #the last of us #abby anderson x female reader #abby anderson tlou2 #abby x reader #abby x fem!reader #tlou abby #abby x you

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steddie-island · 5 months ago

Text

Tender Headed

I saw this post by @mothofmyth and couldn't stop myself. I hope this does your idea justice. ❤️ ao3 | Divider by @cafekitsune

Someone else was standing at Steve’s usual station, instead of his usual girl.

It wasn’t a girl at all.

“Hey! Do you have an appointment?” not-regular-stylist asked.

“No– yes? I, uh– I have a standing appointment. With Kayla?” Steve brushed his fingers through his hair and looked around at the otherwise empty salon.

He’d been looking forward to this for weeks, practically since the end of his last appointment. The thought of having to cancel, of having to reschedule because she was out sick or something– it made Steve’s skin feel too tight, itchy.

It made tears prick at his eyes like this was a bigger deal than just a stupid haircut.

Which. Okay, maybe it was for him, but it’s not like any of the stylists, like this stranger , needed to know that.

“Are you okay, man?”

Steve blinked, bringing the man back into focus again. He was pretty, with long curls piled up on top of his head and a delicate black hoop hanging from his septum. His cut off sleeves showed the ink decorating his arms and disappearing under the fabric.

He had to shake himself to bring the man’s voice back, to stop ogling him.

“--won’t be back for a few months,” he was explaining.

“What?” Steve knew this guy probably thought he was an idiot, but his mind was thick and sticky and nothing this guy was saying was sticking.

“Early maternity leave,” he said again, patiently. “I’m Eddie, I’m taking her station over while she’s gone.” He gestured to the empty salon again. “I don’t have any appointments right now, if you’re cool with a substitute…”

Steve almost turned around, but there was something about the wide brown eyes that fixed on him that made him stay.

“I… sure. Yeah.” It wasn’t like he was that attached to his hair anyway. Yeah, he wanted it to look good, but not to the point that everyone else thought he did.

It wasn’t about the haircut.

He followed Eddie back to the washing station. Even though this was a stranger who was going to be taking care of him, Steve still felt a shiver go through him as he got situated.

There were a few clinks, metal against ceramic. Steve tipped his head back enough to see Eddie removing several chunky rings and placing them in a little dish. A towel was rolled up carefully and placed beneath his neck.

“Tell me if this is too much.”

The water was cool, which Steve was prepared for. What he wasn’t prepared for was the way those long delicate fingers touched him. Kayla was gentle, but it was nothing like this.

The way Eddie scrubbed so carefully at his scalp made Steve melt. Each fingertip was so deliberate in its movements, in the way his hair was gathered back and brushed out of his face. Eddie’s fingers trailed over his ear and Steve had to bite his lip.

Maybe this was too much, but he couldn’t stop it.

He’d never been handled like this. No one had ever touched him like he was a delicate, breakable thing. Sure, he cuddled with Robin. He got to hug the kids, and Joyce, and Claudia.

But this was… something else.

Eddie wasn’t getting anything out of this– not the same way everyone else got something, like, paying him for his service was different, right?

Steve was going to see it as that, anyway. He imagined Eddie wasn’t touching him like this because he was getting a big tip from it.

He imagined that Eddie was brushing water off of his forehead with a knuckle because he just wanted to know what the skin felt like there. Those calloused fingers were tucking the hair behind his ears because he wanted to study the curve of his tragus– maybe wondering what Steve would look like with a hoop there, like the one in his own ear.

Eddie’s thumb was wiping away water from his cheeks because he wanted to know if Steve’s cheeks were rough with stubble or not, and not because this was just a professional courtesy.

Only maybe this wasn’t a professional courtesy.

Because it wasn’t just water that Eddie had sprayed on him. Steve was fucking crying .

He wanted to run, but before he could even get up Eddie was putting a damp hand on his shoulder.

“Stay. You’re okay.” Eddie’s voice was a low rumble that Steve wanted to hide in. “I’ve got you, big boy.”

How was Steve supposed to not listen to that? He settled back into the chair and let Eddie rinse away the shampoo. Then those nimble hands were working the conditioner into his hair just as gently. The touches were a little more solid now, though. Eddie’s fingers grazed his neck, touched his cheek, wiped more tears from his cheeks.

“You’re not the only person who comes in here for this.” Steve couldn’t even find the words to ask if he was that transparent. It wasn’t like the crying couldn’t have been from him being tender headed, or from the water being too hot. He was too focused on Eddie speaking to him to try to make excuses for himself.

Eddie’s voice was soft and low. It was comforting, and it wasn’t hard for Steve to imagine how he would sound if he were singing, the way the words would wrap around him. Would it make him feel the same way he felt with his hair wrapped around Eddie’s hands?

He was in the shampoo chair for three times as long as he normally would be. Eddie took his time with the conditioner and gave it extra time to sit. He was just as thorough about rinsing it, then about working a smoothing serum through his strands.

By the time Eddie was wrapping Steve’s hair loosely in a towel and sitting him up, Steve was feeling lighter than he’d felt in months. He figured he should have felt raw and vulnerable, and there was a little bit of that, but Eddie’s presence was calming. Maybe it was the way he chattered as he started working on Steve’s hair. He talked about other customers, about his uncle, about how he’d been doing his own hair for years. He even brought up the time he’d burnt his hair with bleach so bad he’d had to give himself a buzzcut, because that was better than the spongy mess he’d left himself with.

Steve started opening up, too, by the time Eddie was drying and styling his hair. He talked about his own worst haircut, about the time Robin had let him bleach her hair and she had ended up with a streak of green in her hair instead of blue. At least it had been cute, though.

Eddie spritzed Steve’s hair once… twice… a third and then a fourth time before smiling at their reflections in the mirror. This close, and without tears in his eyes, Steve could see the dimples in his cheeks.

“What do you think?” Eddie brushed his fingers over the ends of Steve’s hair, then dropped a hand to let the weight of it rest against his shoulder.

“I think it’s great.” Steve smiled back at him. It looked the same as it did when Kayla had worked on it, but he’d never looked this good before. Maybe it was the cut, or maybe it was just the way Eddie had put something bright back into his eyes.

Steve pulled his card out to pay but Eddie refused.

“I think we both needed today,” he’d said before smiling and sliding his card across the counter. “I hope you come back and see me sometime, Stevie. I’m happy to take care of you anytime.”

Normally Steve might take that as flirting– and maybe it was, the way Eddie’s dimples popped even more and his eyes really sparkled under the light. It wasn’t just flirting, though, and that made warmth blossom in Steve’s chest.

“Yeah, man. Definitely.” Steve tucked the card away and turned for the door. “Actually…” He looked back at Eddie, who had picked up the broom. “Do you maybe want to get a drink after work?”

Eddie’s grin was bright. “Hell yeah. Why do you think I didn’t charge you?” he teased. “I get off in an hour.”

Steve laughed with him. “Cool. I’ll see you in an hour, then.”

---

As it turned out, Steve didn’t need to come back in an hour because he hadn’t left yet. He was still there, helping Eddie clean things up. They talked about the kids Steve babysat, and Eddie pointed out that maybe it was okay for him to just say they were hanging out, because fifteen and sixteen year olds didn’t tend to need babysitters anymore.

They picked up food in Eddie’s van, and they drove to the quarry to eat sitting in the back of it, with the doors open and two milkshakes between them.

When they shared their first kiss that night it tasted like salt and fake strawberries. They parted ways with plans to see each other again the next day.

Maybe it was okay that Steve didn’t have a standing appointment with his usual stylist anymore.

#Steddie #Steddie fic #Steve Harrington x Eddie Munson #Stranger Things fic #kintsugi_kid ao3

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fawnnpaws · 4 months ago

Note

ughhhhh art being hammered by patrick while u ride his face is absolutely the dream

art’s desperately licking you and he is whining and moaning everytime patrick nails his prostate

u cum all over his face and then sit beside him, tweaking his nipples

patrick leans forward, his face close to arts and says “let me taste our girl, baby. kiss me”

and art messily leans up to patrick and they just GO AT IT

like patrick is sticking his tongue into arts mouth and all while you have the pleasure of watching them while you jerk art

patrick finishes inside of him and then the three of u just lay there 😖😖😖😖😖

GODDDDDD the dream really truly

poor art’s been so pent up, he just needs you both to be as close to him as possible. it’s like no amount of touch is enough. he’s gripping your hips and grinding them into his face, fucking and lapping into your dripping cunt with his tongue like he’s trying to actually eat you. his noises are muffled by your pussy, but he’s so loud in bed, especially when patrick fucks him, it doesn’t actually dampen the sound by much. you can still hear his punched out ah ah ah’s in time with patrick’s thrusts, getting louder and louder as they both steadily lose their composure. as cool as patrick likes to play it, you and art are his two biggest weaknesses.

“is he eating you good, baby? making that pussy feel good?” he pants, one hand gripping art’s hip for leverage and the other reaching to paw at your tits.

“feel so good, pat— fuck! he’s being such a good boy,” and that only spurs art on more. he’s doubling his efforts, forcing you over the edge until you’re cumming so hard on his tongue your vision whites out. you try to move, but art keeps you on top of him. keeps suckling on your clit and lapping at your pussy with the flat of his tongue, like he needs to taste every last morsel of your cum before he finally lets you fall boneless beside him.

“jesus - fuck - c’mere, let me taste her on you, baby - did so good making our girl cum,” patrick says as he hooks two fingers behind art’s teeth and pulls him up to smash their lips together. you can see the way their tongues press into each others mouths, again trying to get as close as humanly possible. patrick, trying to suck the taste of you off art’s tongue and art, utterly consumed by patrick being inside both his mouth and hole.

the feeling is contagious. you suddenly need to be close to them again and will your body to move so you’re up on your knees, pressed against your two boys’ sides. you mouth at patrick’s neck first and suck dark bruises into it to show you were there. his breath stutters through his nose and he picks up his pace, the sound of his balls slapping against art’s ass filling the room. its music to your ears. you move to art next, running the tip of your tongue along the shell of his ear and reaching your hand between them to loosely circle his cock.

“this what you needed, honey? such a little slut you can’t go a couple days without cock and pussy?” you tease, nipping at his earlobe.

he nods his head frantically and lets out a choked sob into patrick’s mouth. not daring to move too far away, he whimpers against patrick’s lips, “just you - both - hah - both of you, needed you, just you - please please—”

“you gonna cum for just us, baby?” patrick grins. he’s bullying his cock into art so hard it’s jostling his body and hitting his already abused prostate with every thrust. all art can do is hold on for dear life and let whimpers pour out from the back of his throat. you both love when he gets like this, fucked out to the point of brainlessness.

“be a good boy n make patrick cum too, sweetheart, cmon,” you’re pumping his cock harder now, keeping your hand in time with patrick’s thrusts despite them growing more and more erratic. “let me see my boys cum.”

art breaks out in a full body shiver and cums first, the force of it wracking through him and sending his back bowing before it snaps back and he presses his chest against patrick’s. his eyes roll back and his mouth hangs open as he spills all over your hand. the motion of patrick still fucking him smears it between their stomachs and you help the process along, rubbing your cum covered hand between them.

“oh fuck— he’s choking my fucking dick baby - gonna cum, gonna fucking cum—” patrick throws his head back and fucks through his own orgasm, hips pounding into art’s at a frantic speed. you feel art’s cock do a valiant kick as patrick fills him with cum and his body goes limp at the feeling.

you smile softly to yourself as the two of them grab onto each other and press themselves together, both shivering periodically with aftershocks. you’ve regained some feeling in your legs by this point, so you go wet a washcloth and bring it back to clean them up while they come down. you can’t help but press a kiss into art’s sweaty temple, then patrick’s forehead.

when the three of you are clean, you don’t redress, you rarely do after sex. you just fall into a pile of interlinked limbs and cuddle up against each other. art always passes out first, sandwiched between you and patrick, leaving the two of you to bask in the glow and lean over your pretty blonde to talk or kiss lazily. you think you could live in these moments forever.

#neeeeed these mfs so bad #ask #art donaldson x reader #patrick zweig x reader #fawn writes 🎀

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vivwritesfics · 1 year ago

Text

Taking Control

(But not really)

Max is a dominant guy, both on and off the track. Sometimes he likes to let Y/N have control. Or, at least, the illusion of control.

Warnings: smut, pwp, bj, sub/dom dynamics, p in v stuff, dominant max

Max's hands sat on her hips, his lips on hers. Y/Ns eyes were shut as she kissed him, her hands on his face, holding him close.

"Wow," she gasped as Max moved his lips down to her neck. His grip on her hips became tighter, bruising. And Y/N was loving every second of it.

She ground her hips against his and Max let out a groan, music to her ears. "Are you going to do all of the work tonight, baby?" He asked, stopping his attack on her neck long enough to look up at her.

Y/N nodded quickly as she went back to kissing Max, sticking her tongue down his throat. It was long before Max had all of the control, his tongue in her mouth as Y/N bit softly. Not a proper bite, not one that would cause any pain.

As Y/N wrapped her arms around his neck, Max made quick work of taking of her shirt, leaving her in just her bra.

It was one Max had bought her for a joke for their year long anniversary. A Red Bull bra, with the proper shade of blue and the logos in any available space. "Wow," Max echoed as he stated at it. He loved it and not just because it was hilarious.

"Are we gonna stay on the couch or should we take this to the bedroom?"

"Bedroom, definitely," Max answered as he stood up with Y/N still on his lap. She let out a squeal and hastily wrapped her arms and legs around him.

Max carried her with ease. He was an athlete, after all. Carrying Y/N to the bedroom was no problem for him. He kicked open the door and carried Y/N in.

Rather ungracefully, Max dropped Y/N onto the bed. He crawled on top of her, attaching his lips to hers once again.

"Uh uh," said Y/N as she pulled away from him. "I thought I was doing all of the work tonight."

Grinning, Max lifted himself away from Y/N. He laid down on the bed and placed his hands behind his head, grinning as Y/N climbed on top of him.

She worked to pull off his Red Bull shirt. Always the Red Bull shirt. She let out a giggle as she kissed her way down his chest, leaving dark, purple marks as she went.

Max let out a series of moans as Y/N worked on his belt. Music to her ears, she thought, pulling off his trousers.

Left in nothing but his boxers, Max sat up and wrapped his arms around Y/N and pulled her close.

Her hands on his face she went back to kissing him, feeling him grow hard beneath her. Y/N ground her hips against his, eyes shut as she whined. "I need you," she whispered against his lips.

Before Y/N could pull away to get the rest of their clothes off, Max whispered something in her ear, his lips hot against her ear.

Grinning, Y/N turned herself around. She slid off the bed and pulled off Maxs boxers, letting hid cock spring free.

Y/N knealed at the end of the bed as Max shuffled down. She placed her hands against his hips, holding him still as she kissed the tip, touch light a teasing.

Max smirked when he felt her solid grip on his pelvis. If Y/N thought she had control, she wouldn't for long. It was simply an illusion.

His hand settled on her head, fingers knotting through her hair as she wrapped her lips around him and sucked. Y/N set the pace but Max controlled, dictating whether she wabt faster or slower. "That's it, baby," he said through a shaky breath, eyes closed as he bucked his hips. Y/N gagged around him, her throat constricting deliciously.

Before he could get to close to finishing, Max pulled her away. "Get undressed the rest of the way," he demanded.

Standing, Y/N pulled off her underwear. She stepped out of it and crawled her way up to Max as he curled his finger.

Y/N had no control and she didn't even realise it.

His hands were on his hips as she sank down onto him, eyes shut and head thrown back. Y/N had to sit there for a moment, appreciate how he felt inside of her.

"Wow," she said as she looked down at him beneath her, her hands on his chest.

Y/N began moving, slowly at first. As much as she thought it was all her, dictating the movements and the pace, it was Max with his hands holding her hips.

His grip was bruising as he moved her. "That's it, Schat. So good for me," he grunted, his hips beginning to move beneath her.

"Nah ah, Max," she grinned as she stopped moving. "It's all me, remember?"

A cocky attitude. Max hadn't expected that. He smiled at her as he lifted his hips and moved, properly moved, fucking up into her. Y/N threw her head back as she moaned, feeling every inch of him.

"Oh my god, Max," she moaned, leaning forward, pressing her face against his shoulder.

Max moaned as she bit down, licking and sucking at the skin on his shoulder. The movements of his hips had suddenly slowed, becoming sloppy as he got close. "oh mijn schatje, oh mijn liefste," he whispered against her as he came close.

Y/N let out one last cry, slumping against him as she came.

Max took only a few seconds more, his thrusts suddenly gentle. He let out a series of grunts, picking up the pace of his thrusts as he came.

They laid there for just a moment as Max slipped out. He held her for a moment, kissing her hair as he ran his hand up and down her back. "Let's get you cleaned up, Schat," he said and sat up, Y/N still in his arms.

"You never let me have control, did you?" Shd asked as Max walked with her to the bathroom.

He shook his, a shit-eating grin on his face. "No, mijn liefste, no you didn't."

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miley1442111 · 5 months ago

Text

the fifth kiss- s.reid

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

a/n: season one, episode 18 'Somebody's Watching'

summary: lila archer gets in the way of you and spencer.

pairing: spencer reid x fem bau! reader

warnings: general cm topics, the team don't know about you and spencer, injuries, reader gets injured, spencer shoots someone. (i think that's it, tell me if i missed anything :))

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

You sat in your hotel room, confused at the events of the day. Maybe it was the sweltering LA heat, or maybe it was the awful way Lila and Spencer were making goo-goo eyes at each other.

You had been at the gallery with him and his sub-par flirting. At least Lila was happy. When Spencer had to leave he was practically begging you to convince Gideon to leave him with Lila.

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

“Sprence, we have to go,” You grabbed his shoulder and went up on tip-toes to whisper in his ear. You started walking out of the gallery with Gideon and noticed Spencer didn’t follow.

“Spencer!” Gideon called to him.

Spencer walked up to you. “Do you need me? Or c-can I stick around here for a while?” He smiled shyly.

“Gideon wants you so I’d just ask him,’” you shrugged.

“But… Can you just ask him?” Spencer pushed.

“Spencer!” Gideon called. “Y/n!”

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

When Detective Kim asked you to look at the crime scene, and when the rest of the team was called, everyone knew that you’d be most helpful in this case. You’d been in the violent crimes division which meant you’d be able to accurately tell them if it was a gang, what kind of killer it was, and why they were doing it. On top of that you were definitely the most qualified to talk to Lila Archer when she came back with the note from her stalker/ the unsub because of your year as a liaison on a team in London.

“Hi, I’m Agent Y/l/n, this is Agent Morgan, Agent Greenaway, Agent Jareau, Agent Hotchner, and of course, you know Agent Gideon and Doctor Reid,” you introduced the team as she came into the room. “Agent Morgan and I will ask you some questions, if that’s ok?”

She nodded her head but her eyes stayed glued to where Spencer had his arm around you. You two were best friends, in the team's eyes. In reality, you two had been dating for the past 4 weeks. You hadn’t told anyone since it was only new but you really liked him. But, you two had sex and he hasn’t asked you out again. Granted, you’ve both been busy but… doubt was starting to creep in.

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

“Did you know Natalie Ryan?” You asked.

“We spoke when we were in public, but we were never friends,” she shrugged as she picked at her nails, clearly uninterested in what you had to say.

“What about Wally Mellman?” Morgan added.

“What about him?” she asked.

“He was killed a few months ago, did you know him?” You asked.

Lila shook her head. “I read for a part but they went a different way.”

“What way?” Elle asked as she entered the room.

“They cast another actress… it was Natalie,” she admitted.

“Nice way to get rid of competition,” Morgan said, eyeing her agent beside her.

“Hey it wasn’t me! I brought her into this damn police station,” he defended.

“Alright, do you ever feel like you’re being watched?” You asked.

“All the time,” she scoffed. “It kind of comes with the territory.”

“Yes, but an unusual amount,” you continued. “Something out of the ordinary that happens regularly-”

“Repetitive phone calls with hang-ups, gifts left anonymously,” Morgan started listing.

Lila wasn’t listening and she definitely wasn’t cooperating.

“Ms. Archer?” you asked. Her eyes snapped back to yours.

“Pardon?”

“Is there something more important you could be doing right now?” You snarked.

“Why isn’t Dr. Reid in here?” She asked.

“He’s busy,” Elle answered. “I can assure you, you are with the people you need to be with right now.”

“Yes, but why do I need to be with all of you?” She asked and your blood boiled.

“Because we’re the people on the team that have worked on stalking cases before, Dr. Reid, hasn’t,” Morgan gritted out, anger spilling from him too.

“Now back to the questions, does something out of the ordinary happen on a regular basis?”m You asked.

“I receive flowers,” she admitted. “On the 7th of each month they just appear in my trailer. Never a note, just a plain glass bowl. Red anemones, my favourite.”

“And you’ve never questioned who they’re from?” Elle asked.

“Celebrities get anonymous gifts all the time, she has fans y’know?”

“Does the number 7 mean anything to you? Did you meet anyone on the 7th, or in the 7th month of the year?”

“No,” she said, definitively. “I would remember.”

“Alright, who would you have told about red anemones being your favourite flower?” you asked.

“I don’t know, I guess my friends and family?” she sighed. “Can we be done now?”

“Lila, I need a list of people who would know that those flowers are your favourite, like… my boyfriend knows that my favourite flowers are blue lilies-” Lila’s eyes snapped to yours and immediately sized you up.

“Who’s your boyfriend?” She asked. “Are you dating Spencer?”

“No, I am not dating Dr. Reid,” you lied.

“Why are you two so close?” She questioned.

“Am I interviewing you or are you interviewing me?” You snapped back. “Ms. Archer, two people are dead because of you, that’s the reality of the situation. Dr. Reid is working your case, just like the rest of us. So, I suggest you start cooperating before someone else gets hurt.”

Lila’s eyes clouded and glossed over, she left the room, sniffling and on the verge of tears. You didn’t care. She was withholding information for no reason other than the fact that she liked Spencer.

“What happened?” Spencer demanded when he walked in. “Lila’s crying.”

You rolled your eyes. “Fucking brat.”

Elle and Derek nodded their heads in agreement while Spencer pulled a face of confusion.

“Spencer, she’s just like every other Hollywood starlet, selfish, self-centred, and really annoying,” Elle chuckled and both Derek and you laughed with her.

“She's a person who’s going through a very hard time right now,” he stated then turned his gaze on you. “and you spoke to her in an unprofessional way.”

You scoffed. “Right…”

“I mean it, she told me what you said.”

“You mean… the truth? Two people are dead because of her,” you sighed. “Listen Spencer, I don’t want to fight you over your clear crush on her,” something you hadn’t wanted to admit earlier. “So go for it, sleep with her, kiss her, I don't really care.”

Spencer’s eyes widened. He hadn’t asked you to be his girlfriend yet. You’d been on 4 dates. You two weren’t ‘dating’.

“Y/n-” Spencer tried but you got up.

“I’m going to grab some coffee,” you announced, then left with Spencer behind you.

“What do you mean you don’t care?” Spencer asked in a small voice as he stood behind you.

“Spencer, we both know you have a crush on Lila, if you want to go for it, go for it,” you sighed.

“But I… what about us?”

“We both know you got what you wanted,” you shrugged. “I just never thought you’d be like that.”

“W-what am I like?,” he stuttered.

You ignored his stupid question.“And Spencer, I don’t really take kindly to people questioning my ability to do my job, alright?”

Spencer just nodded, and walked away.

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

You cared. You cared a lot.

That’s why you were sitting in your hotel room alone and crying, confused about the day.

There was a knock at the door. You opened it and found Gideon.

“Evening?” You questioned as you let him in, brushing the tears off your cheeks.

“You and Spencer need to talk,” he stated.

“About what?”

“Your relationship, for one,” he sighed. “You two are both in love with each other, we can all see it, and now you’ve sent him off to go sleep with a movie star because he can’t stop stuttering around her?”

You looked away in embarrassment. “The goo-goo eyes didn’t help,” you shrugged, speaking like a dejected child.

“What was your first date?”

“We don-t- we aren’t-”

“Yes you did. Now tell me, what was your first date?”

“We went to the cinema near his apartment, we saw this Italian film, ‘La Chimera’, then we got lunch,” you rattled off.

“What was his body language throughout?”

“Gideon-” you sighed.

“Tell me,” he said sternly.

“He was nervous, he kept messing with his hands, he was stuttering, and when I kissed him he tensed up for a few seconds,” you rolled your eyes at Gideon’s antics.

“Exactly, and who is the only person on this team that Spencer genuinely seeks out to touch?” He asked.

“Me.”

“Exactly.”

“But still, he also likes her and I don’t know if you noticed but I’m not her!”

“But you’re you, and Spencer’s in love with you.”

You sighed. “I sent him off.”

“What?” He asked, horrified.

“I told him we were ‘casual’ and that I didn’t care if he dated someone else.”

“Why would you do that?” He hissed.

“Because I thought it was the right thing to do!”

“You’re supposed to be intelligent!” He groaned.

“I know!” You shouted back.

Gideon sighed and walked closer, pulling you into a hug. “You two will be ok.”

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

You sat beside Lila as she got into makeup. “I’m not stopping my life,” she stated.

“Yeah, you mentioned that,” you sighed.

Spencer walked up beside you two with a coke in his hand.

Lila turned her nose up at the coffee that she’d been drinking for the past few minutes and you almost laughed when she took his coke, expecting him to grab it right back. Your mouth dropped open when hee let her drink from it, then took a drink right after. She was called to the scene and you rolled your eyes.

“You don’t mind sharing with me, do you?” Derek teased.

“Shut up.”

“Go get ‘em loverboy.”

When Spencer met your eyes you swore you saw regret, or some kind of remorse in them. You ignored it.

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

“We were too late,” Gideon’s voice rang over your phone.

“Shit, she’s going to be devastated.”

“Don’t tell her yet,” he asked.

“Course.”

You hung up and gathered Lila and Spencer and some of her things.

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

You got picked up by Derek and Detective Kim, and you sent Spencer and Lila on their way.

“How are the two lovebirds?” Derek asked, exasperation and irritation clear in his voice.

“Oh, they’re all great, never a dull moment where she isn’t trying to get into his pants,” you sighed as you three walked out of the paparazzo's apartment.

“Where are we headed next?” you asked.

“Lila’s. We need to bring more people to her, maybe even get her to a safehouse,” Kim sighed. A motorcycle started and before you knew it, you were against the car and groaning in pain.

“Y/n! Are you alright?” Derek shouted.

“Yeah, it just grazed,” You nodded, looking at the flesh wound the bullet had left behind. “Get to Kim,” you told him. You reached for your gun and shot after the motorcyclist but they got away.

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

After being bandaged up, you and Derek sped to Lila’s house to find Spencer and Lila soaked.

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

“I fell into the pool,” Spencer admitted sheepishly.

“Sure, I’m sure there’s a bunch of photos of it,” you nodded sarcastically. You walked away, an uncertain heartbreak settling deep in your gut as you went through the photos, ripping them out, for his sake.

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

Spencer felt awful. He had been rude to you, he’d gone against you, he’d kissed someone else.

The entire time, all he could think about were the four times he’d kissed you.

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

One.

You two were outside the lunch place he loved and you’d both spent the entire meal talking about the film. It was comfortable, and probably too domestic to be a first date but Spencer didn’t mind. He loved the way you and him were comfortable around each other.

“So I’ll see you at work on Monday?” You smiled, that perfect smile that drove Spencer crazy.

“Yes, you will see me at work on Monday,” he smiled, breathing out slowly. You chuckled, then wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him down to kiss you. Your lips on his genuinely re-wired his entire being. He felt butterflies and heat run through him, until he kissed back. Then he knew that this was an addiction. That he wanted to kiss you every moment of every hour of every day for the rest of his life.

You had to guide his hands to your hips and it was a bit of a laughing/ kissing thing, but it was amazing all the same.

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

Two.

Spencer stood in your kitchen, grabbing his coat from the chair when you kissed him. This time he was prepared. His hands immediately went to your waist, large palms spanning over the navy colour of the sundress you were wearing. God you looked beautiful.

Again, your lips on his was something he’d never get enough of. How perfect you felt. How beautiful you were. He was sure he was in love.

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

Three.

You dragged him kicking and screaming to a farmer’s market, but in the end he’d enjoyed it. He’d enjoyed it because you’d actually kissed him twice. Once when he remembered something minute about you (How could he ever forget?) and another time when you’d simply wanted to. You and that damn sundress.

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

Four.

You were at his apartment and you were on his lap. He had been painfully hard as you continued kissing him and slowly grinding down on him.

“Do you want to…?” you asked, a hazy lust-filled smirk on your face.

Spencer just nodded.

“Do you have a condom?” You asked and chuckled when he sheepishly shook his head. “It’s fine, I’m on birth-control,” you smiled and Spencer just followed your lead.

After what felt like hours of you just sinking down on his ridiculously large cock, you finally started moving.

“Oh fuck,” you mumbled. “You’re so big,” you groaned into his ear. Spencer whimpered as you slowly moved up and down his length.

As much as he didn’t want to admit it, he had thought about fucking you, a lot. Sometimes you were under him, sometimes you were over him, it didn’t matter. He wanted to fuck you.

And that he did.

After you fucked him on the couch, he turned it around and slammed into you with such vigour his couch moved. His fingers explored your core and once he ended up tasting you, he knew he couldn’t go back. He spent half an hour between your legs, licking and fingering you, moaning with you as if he was getting pleasure from it as well, which he was.

Once the both of you were cleaned up you fell asleep in his bed with his arms firmly around you. The next morning you both smiled at each other, not exactly shy but still hesitant to talk about what had happened. Spencer knew that was the right moment to ask you, but he couldn’t. He wanted you, all of you. He wanted you to be his girlfriend, then eventually his fiancee, and eventually his wife.

He was head over heels in love.

And when you kissed him sweetly, nothing like the sex-fuelled kisses from the night before, he thought he’d died and gone to heaven.

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

“W-what happened?” Spencer asked, signalling to the bandage on your arm.

“A bullet grazed me,” you shrugged.

“A-are you okay?” he asked.

“Fine,” you gritted out. You didn’t look at him, in fear of catching a glimpse of those damn puppy-dog eyes.

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

As Spencer apologised to Lila, you searched the house.

The house was big, too big for one person to live here but you digressed. As you searched you gave yourself a moment to think over the events of the past 48 hours.

“Who’re you?” A blonde woman asked from her seat at the vanity.

“Who’re you?” you asked, pulling your gun. “Spencer!”

You could hear Spencer and Lila running to you.

For the second time that night, you were on the floor bleeding. Great. The police officers out front started running into the house as Spencer reached you. She’d hit you in your chest.

“Shit,” Spencer cursed. He pulled out his phone and called an ambulance. The officers took down Maggie and you were rushed to hospital.

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

Hours and hours of surgery later, you were awake with Spencer’s hand in yours.

“Hi,” he smiled softly.

“Hi.”

“I’m so sorry,” he sighed. “I was so stupid, I shouldn’t have let you walk away like that. I’m so sorry-”

“It’s alright,” you smiled. “I’m glad things worked out between you and Lila.”

Spencer’s face dropped. “I don’t want Lila. I want you. I’m in love with you. I only want you.”

Your heart sped up, you could hear it on the monitor. Both you and Spencer laughed.

“Good. I’m in love with you too," you smiled once your laughter had subsided.

He leaned down and kissed you softly.

The fifth kiss.

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

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