#you’re getting an APARTMENT. like we wanted to do. for months. did you just not want it with me?
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hxney-lemcn · 3 days ago
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Late Night Chaos — Daisuke x gn! reader
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summery: things aren't looking too good, so the crew decides to open the cargo hold and find out just what you were delivering.
tw: nothing that isn't in the game.
a/n: Updates might be a bit more spaced apart, but I'm gonna see this to the end. I refuse to give up on it.
wc: 2k
Master List
Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven | Part Eight
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“I didn’t even wanna do this stupid internship.”
An admission into the night you're sure you weren’t meant to hear. Your insomnia grew worse, unable to get Curly’s painful screams out of your head or the plight you all found yourself. Only two months have passed, and you weren’t sure if anyone was even looking for you. Did Pony Express even have any tracking system to see if ships were down? Would they search when it was already too late? 
Your pessimism was shining through, but you tried to keep it to yourself, not wanting to smother Daisuke’s hope. It seems even he was prone to dark thoughts, but you’d be more concerned if he wasn’t worried at all. 
“If I just told my mom no I could be home right now,” Daisuke continued to mutter to himself. “Who am I kidding, I could never tell my mom no.”
“I wish you did,” you replied, eyes still closed and curled up in a ball.
“Y-you’re awake?” Daisuke gasped, but you made no sign of movement.
“Hmm,” you hummed, pressing your face farther into your pillow. “I wish you weren’t here.” Your words were harsh, causing the brunette to hesitate. You had gotten harsher after the crash, becoming more blunt.
But you had also gotten softer somehow. Sending him mixed signals, your harsh words softened when you gently stroked his cheek, eyes finally opening to meet his own. Anger, fear, sympathy, regret, so many emotions spun in your jewel colored eyes he almost felt dizzy. 
“I wish we met before this,” Daisuke said, voice cracking as he felt pressure form behind his eyes. Shit, he didn’t wanna cry, he had to be strong, for you and the rest of the crew. 
Your fingers brushed under his eye, catching a tear that was threatening to fall. Your silence felt warm, inviting, your gaze broke him, the dam breaking as his wishes spilled past his lips.
“I wish we were back on Earth. Hanging out in my room and this all just ended up being a bad dream. My mom calling us for dinner and everything is okay.” 
He was crying now, fat tears falling down his cheeks as you continued to stroke them. Daisuke wrapped his arms around your form, burying his face in your neck as he let out strangled sobs, not wanting to wake the others.
“I’m sorry,” You murmured into his hair, gently running your nails up and down his back in a soothing manner. “You don’t deserve this, none of us do.” 
“We ain’t touching the damn cargo,” Swansea argued. “The hold is locked down for a reason. The only thing worse than dyin’ slowly is not gettin’ paid.”
The whole argument seemed redundant. It seemed that Swansea was the only one against opening the cargo hold. He was a stubborn old fool in your opinion. If your speculation is right, and you won’t be looked for until your ship doesn’t come on time, then you’ll all have died from either starvation or lack of oxygen. Both those options seemed terrible to choose from, but a long, drawn out death was worse than a short painful one. For all you knew, you all were shipping food, or water, or something that could keep you all going just a bit longer. Especially since the cryo chambers were out of commission (not like there were enough for the six of you anyway. Besides, Curly had no chance to survive the freeze due to his wounds). 
“But it could be something useful,” Anya argued back. “I think-”
“Could be what?” Swansea cut her off. “Hopes, dreams and marzipan? Hah!”
“Could be food,” You interjected, glaring at the oldest of the crew. “Protein bars, chips, hell maybe we’re lucky enough to be carrying canned goods.”
“If it helps us survive it’s worth it,” Jimmy added with a nod. 
“Man,” Daisuke spoke up. “Pony Express bosses really aren’t chill at all, huh? C’mon, a quick look won’t hurt.” 
You nodded in agreement before Swansea brought up a good point, “How exactly is this group therapy committee planning on gettin’ in there?”
“Oh, right here boss,” Daisuke pointed to himself with a smug grin. “You’re looking at the meanest swing of the regional junior baseball team! Nearly straight up corked a kid once! I can take the utility ax-” You couldn’t stop the snort that came out of you, hiding your face behind your hands as everyone looked at you with various emotions. 
“You were goddamn born fully corked,” Swansea glowered, face twisted in a harsh sneer. 
“That’s enough, Swansea,” Jimmy intervened. “There has to be an ‘in case of emergency’ way inside.”
“If I remember correctly from reading the safety protocols…” Anya trailed off. “The doors should have an alternate access code, but it can only be uncovered using a code scanner device.”
“And only the captain has access to the scanner,” Jimmy continued. 
“Of course! Go ahead, just ask him all about it then,” Swansea mocked. “Maybe he’ll sing ya the blues too.”
“We can just look for the scanner,” You brought up. “It’s probably either in the captain's quarters or the cockpit.”
“I’ll figure it out,” Jimmy waved you off. “For better or worse, I’m captain now.” You tried your best to hide the offended look that fell on your face, but it was hard to do so when Jimmy rubbed you the wrong way. Sure, it made the most sense for him to be acting captain since he was Curly’s co-pilot, but you didn’t like the way he acted like he had to do everything himself. It was giving you ‘I need to do everything my way and feel better about myself’. 
“Right on!” Daisuke cheered, before you all split your ways. Anya ran off to medical, Swansea stopped Daisuke from following him while Jimmy probably went towards the cockpit. That left you and Daisuke to sit in the rest area, the led screen shone an image of a warm sunset, permanently stuck after the crash. 
“You really think there might be food in the cargo?” Daisuke asked, resting his head against the top of the chair.
“It’s probably wishful thinking,” You grumbled, taking the seat across from him.
“Damn,” He sighed. “I was kinda hopin’ for something other than soup.” 
“You dissing soup?” You asked, raising your eyebrows. “I’ll take your portion too if you don’t want it.” Wait! No!” Daisuke exclaimed with a chuckle. “I take it back, I mean I love love love soup and want to eat it every day!”
“You’re such a dork,” You laughed, gently kicking his foot. 
The door slid open, halting your conversation as Jimmy walked up to you both. He stared at you both intently, and you felt a bit uncomfortable at the irritable stare in his eyes. You slowly realized he always looked that way.
“Looks like it’ll be soup again for dinner,” Daisuke spoke up first. “You wanna rock paper scissors for the chicken noodle?”
“That’s my favorite,” You pouted. Daisuke tended to make you feel more relaxed, no matter the situation.  “Ah, nevermind then,” He sighed. “It’s theirs.” Gosh, he never failed to make you feel warm either, even in your dire circumstances. 
“How much food do we have left?” Jimmy cut in, ignoring your banter altogether. 
“I’d say four months-ish,” Daisuke replied. 
“Hmm, less than the remaining air supply, but we can make it last,” Jimmy muttered to himself holding a hand up to his chin. “In theory. We’ll be poking new holes in our belts to pull that off.” The thought of starving unsettled you, but it was an unfortunate possibility. But then the question is how much air supply is left? That was something you couldn’t conserve…well, unless someone died…but even then it wouldn’t be much.
“Man, my mom will straight up stuff me when I get back,” Daisuke laughed, trying to keep the atmosphere light. “I’ll look like Swansea!” You chuckled bittersweetly, shaking your head amusedly. “We’ll have a rad story to tell,” Daisuke continued, looking between you and Jimmy with a strained smile. “They might even write articles about us. We could be on TV!” Once again there was a pit in your stomach. No matter the outcome, you were sure to appear on TV…
Jimmy also seemed uncomfortable, eyes shifting, and posture ridgid, “Uh, it’ll impress the ladies too.” You nearly broke out laughing at how awkward Jimmy was, coughing into your fist to hide it. Even funnier was it seemed he didn’t realize you and Daisuke were already in a relationship.
Daisuke looked confused, glancing at you briefly before uttering a confused, “Uh…yeah…the real problem is running out of toilet paper. Fatal stuff, man.” This time you couldn’t smother your laughter, hiding your face from the two men before you. 
“Seriously!” Daisuke emphasized, grin turning brighter at your laughter. “We should leave that part out for the press.”
“Totally,” You agreed. “Wouldn’t want the ladies to know.” This time Daisuke snorted, Jimmy nodding uncomfortably before leaving. The two of you cackled for a few more seconds before calming down.
“I thought everyone already knew we were dating,” Daisuke said, confused. “Not like we’ve been hiding it.”
“Just goes to show how much he cares,” You shrugged with a sigh. 
“You think he got the code scanner?” He asked, tilting his head slightly.
“I’d think so,” You nodded. “Wanna head to the cargo hold?”
“Yeah.”
Mouthwash. 
You were hauling fucking mouthwash. 
It felt like a tiny bit of your sanity slipped away. You weren’t the only one though, everyone looking at the contents of the box in disbelief. 
“Mouthwash?” Anya asked in a shaky voice.
“Un-fucking-believable,” Swansea cursed. 
“There’s gotta be an ocean of the stuff in here!” Daisuke exclaimed. “The room looks freakin’ endless!” You felt dizzy staring at the rows upon rows of shelves, boxes stacked to the brim on each one. 
“This is what they’d have six people hauling for over a year?” Jimmy scoffed in disbelief. “All of this…for mouthwash?!” You tensed slightly at his shout, but quickly focused on Anya as she spoke up.
“The sugar content probably offsets any potential as a disinfectant…” Anya informed, reading the ingredient content. Great, this was completely and totally useless-
“Disinfectant? What’re you-” Swansea grumbles. “Let me see that!” Snatching the bottle Swansea reads the contents as well. “Fourteen percent ethanol.” Suddenly he bursts out laughing, seeming a bit manic. 
“Haha?” Daisuke gave a confused laugh, clearly not understanding the implications. “I s’pose we’ll smell good at least…?”  “That’s right kiddo! You can bet your ass on that!” Swansea continued to laugh. 
“W-what are you doing?” Anya stuttered, eyes wide in concern. “Stop that!” Instead, Swansea starts to chug the blue liquid, causing your stomach to churn. 
“Whew-whee,” Swansea, sighs. “Ohhh, shut up. I’m just an ol’ codger taking care of his dental hygiene.”
“You hear that?” Swansea continues, glancing at you all. “That’s the sound of fifteen years of sobriety popping like a cyst. A glorious, magnificent, red hot cyst. Good riddance and cheers! To Captain Curly! Hear, hear!”
“Guess anyone could get seriously blasted off of this stuff,” Daisuke mutters loud enough for us all to hear. 
“Yeah, and give you a seriously bad stomach ache,” You grumbled. 
“And kill you in the process,” Jimmy huffed. 
“This can’t be real,” Anya bemoans. “I-There’s no way…”
“Now we can go out in style,” Swansea grins nihilistically. “Daisuke! Come here! Anyone ever teach you how to drink like a man?” 
You felt your stomach drop, one alcoholic was bad enough, you would be damned to let Swansea drag Daisuke down with him. 
“C’mon,” You muttered, grabbing Daisuke’s hand and dragging him past the rest of the crew, head down. 
“Somthin’ wrong?” Daisuke asks once you're both back in the main hull. 
You blinked at him like he was dumb, “Seriously? This whole situation is wrong! And now Swansea’s out of commission if he’s gonna nurse that goddamned mouthwash!” You let out a frustrated sigh, running your hand through your hair. 
“And he’s trying to take you down with him.”
“I won’t drink it if that’s what you’re worried about,” Daisuke mumbles softly, eyes filled with concern. 
You side-eyed him, feeling anxiety claw at your chest, “And how do I know you’ll keep that promise?”
Daisuke opened his mouth, but nothing came out, confirming your fears.
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Sum of All 7
Warnings: non/dubcon, mentions of crime, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.
My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.
Character: mob!Steve Rogers
Part of the mob drabbles au
Summary: you are given an unexpected assignment.
As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️
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The two weeks since you gave notice fly by. You’re almost buzzing with excitement. Once the day is through, you’re free. Well, free to finish packing and spend your last night in your apartment before your new chapter. 
The change couldn’t come at a better time. It’s best you get out of the city after your brush with danger. Back on the straight and narrow. For once, things are going according to plan. 
You’re barely focused on work. You have everything wrapped up and ready for the next poor soul. Brenner’s not bothered. He just sits at his desk, watching those videos that reflect in his framed certification. You try your best not to look. 
All you can think of is packing up at the rest of the day and never looking back. This new job is everything you ever wanted. And the interview was great. They seemed great and the culture was more than a slimy boss and elderly secretary knitting by the door. 
As if on cue, Geraldine squawks a greeting as the door open. You flinch and look over as she preens, “why hello, sir. Back again?” 
You don’t get too many walk-ins. You turn and your eyes bulge as Rogers lets the door close behind him. He wears a dark blue suit with a matching tie. His hair looks even longer than before, his beard thicker. It’s been barely a month but it feels like longer. 
You turn to your desk and click around your screen. Remember what he said. As far as you’re concerned, he’s a stranger. 
So why is he walking towards your desk. Brenner clears his throat and stands, his mouse bouncing off his keyboard as he scrambles. You swallow dryly and keep your head down. 
“Mr. Rogers, sir, what can we do for you this time?” 
“Got another job.” Rogers intones. 
“Sure, uh, we’re a bit short-handed but--” 
“Her,” Rogers stops beside your desk and taps the corner. “Come on.” 
You flinch and look up at him in dread. You frown. You’re confused. He told you to forget and you did your best to do just that. 
“Right, er,” you sniff and twine your fingers together to keep from fidgeting. “Happily, er, sir, but the thing is, it’s my last day. Tomorrow--” 
“I’m not asking. Come on.” 
“Oh, uh,” you hesitate. He sounds angry. You know what happens when he’s mad. The thought makes you light-headed. “Well, I’m moving out-of-town so--” 
“Get up,” he demands as he shifts towards you, reaching over your shoulder to grip the back of your chair. “Important work to do.” 
“Go on,” Brenner says, “help out Mr. Rogers.” 
Rogers’ icy blue eyes flick up to the other man and narrow. A warning. I don’t need your help. He pushes away from you and the chair rocks dangerously. Back to square one. Back to an angry dog bristling for a fight. 
“Sure, sure,” you show your palms then slowly pivot. 
You gather up your briefcase and check that all the drawers are empty. You wonder if maybe you’re taking so long but you really don’t want to come back here after whatever trouble this man has in store. You get up with your bag in hand. 
Rogers turns without a word and strides across the office. You follow. You catch up to him outside as he holds the door for you. As you try to keep pace with him, you muster all your courage. 
“I hope this is a short job, I have aa moving truck--” 
“I’m not negotiating.” 
“Alright,” you accept with a squeak. 
It’s all too familiar. There’s no explanation. Just blunt orders and tense silences. He opens the passenger door of his black car and you get in. He goes around the driver’s side and turns the engine. 
“Whatever job you took, won’t pay as much as this one so let’s stop with that,” he says. 
You blink. This can’t be happening. You had it all figured out. You’re done with criminals and Mr. Brenner and all of this. You frown. You feel his gaze in the mirror. He sighs. 
“We gotta go outta town. I need someone who can do numbers.” 
“Outta town?” You murmur. 
“Sounds like you’re already packed and ready to go, so we’ll drop by to grab some stuff and head off. No time to waste--” 
“What? I... but...” you stammer. 
You snap your mouth shut as you sense his roiling irritation. Oh, oh no. You know what this is. Too good to be true which means it’s all falling down around you. ‘Out of town?’ You know what that means. 
Your head bobbles as your breath burns in your chest. You grab at the door handle and whine, “please, don’t. Please, let me out. I didn’t tell anyone, I didn’t--” 
“Hey, stop that,” he grabs your shoulder and pulls you back against the seat, steering with his other hand. “You’re going to get hurt--” 
“You’re going to hurt me?” You squeal and your eyes roll back into a fog. 
You feel the lurch of the car before you plunge fully into the darkness. It’s like blinking. You wake up against the seat. He’s still driving. You don’t recognise your surroundings. 
“No!” You erupt back into consciousness. “No! Why are you doing this? I promised! I didn’t talk to anyone, sir! I didn’t. I’m leaving town and--” 
“Calm down,” he grits over the wheel. 
“No! No! If you’re going to kill me, then I’m not going down easy,” you insist, “I’m going to--” 
The world turns gray again and you hit the door with a thunk. You sink again into your vacant mind. A shift in motion wakes you again. There’s music playing. 
“Am I dead yet?” You ask groggily. 
He scoffs, “what’s gotten into you? I told ya, we got a job.” 
“We? Job?” You sputter. “You know, I know what ‘out of town’ is. I watched The Godfather. Boring but they were streaming it...” 
“Huh? Godfather? No, no, look, I don’t kill people I can use,” he says plainly. 
“Oh... that’s not reassuring,” you utter. 
He lets out another long breath. Yours starts to pick up again. You brace the door. 
“Damnit, don’t you pass out again,” he demands. “I know you kept your promise. That’s why I chose you. This is an important job. Diplomatic. I can’t risk someone who might flip and I know you’re not going to do any of that. Because I know you don’t want to do any of this.” 
You consider his words. You clutch your head, “fair.” 
“Are you good? I got some water,” he points to the bottle in the plastic holder by the console. 
“I... I won’t...” you inhale deeply. “I just—you said we were done.” 
“Shit happens,” he shrugs. 
“And I’m just along for the ride,” you mumble. 
He snorts and shakes his head, “guess so.” 
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eternal-love · 1 day ago
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Public Relations
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Pairing: Austin Butler x Female!Reader
warning?: (talk about motherhood, slight cheating)
Summary: You and Austin had a baby recently, but things haven’t been peachy, not at all. Fans are starting to speculate. And PR is chasing your asses.
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The last time Austin and you were together was right after the birth of your baby girl in June, he had been bugging you for a year of how much he wanted to be a daddy.
At first you were not going to give it to him. You knew his career, how busy he got and it was true, his career was his priority and nothing would ever change that. You understood, he had worked SO hard for it and he wouldn’t leave it to be a stay-at-home daddy or a husband. There was a reason why there wasn’t a ring on your finger.
But you reluctantly agreed to have a baby, just to see him happy. Although you yourself weren’t so sure about it. The pregnancy, damn, was it hard.
You found yourself feeling worn down by the baby inside of you, you went to many midwives and they told you that it was normal. But you couldn’t really do much anyways. You stayed at home, laying down in the bed or bathtub, he was there with you.
And now, months later, your baby girl was three months old and you were in LA. His house in LA, because you lived with him. He was staying in NYC.
You woke up one morning, the baby laying besides you sound asleep. Getting up from the bed, putting on your slippers as opening the windows. Today, you were going to New York because of his PR manager.
You bathed your baby girl, Lux. She totally had Austin’s face. So when you missed him, you looked at her, but whenever he screwed up, you couldn’t look at her. You knew you were being immature but— how can you look at your daughter when she has the face of a man that has hurt you multiple times?
Getting to NYC wasn’t a really long trip, but you never liked it.
You never quite liked New York after getting in a relationship with Austin. Granted, before getting with him, you and your friends spent many morning doing ‘shame-walks’ back to apartments or hotels after wild nights out.
That’s literally how you met Austin, half drunk and with cigarette in your hand, waiting for a taxi to pass by, you didn’t even notice the ash from your cigarette had burnt a hole into Austin’s shirt.
Back then, 2019, he had broken up with Vanessa a month ago and when you got with him, you knew the kind of scrutiny you were getting yourself into. The rumors of you being his side-girl, the reason he broke up with her. And you know, at first you were just a stupid rebound, a one night thing. But when you didn’t leave the next morning after having sex— you both knew you were up for a ride.
Arriving at his apartment in New York, you entered and turned on all the lights, it looked like no one really lived there, not because it was ugly but because everything was so neat. It’s like he only woke up, did his morning routine, went out, and came back to sleep. That was mostly because he basically had been living here on his own for months.
You two didn’t even act like a couple anymore, like anyone would think you’re divorced and you have custody of the kid.
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Didn’t take long before he arrived, you heard the keys and the doorknob turning. You heard his boots and he finally entered the living room. You were breastfeeding Lux.
“Oh, fuck, you scared me.” He jumped a little, all the lights were turned off except a small lamp.
“I thought you knew we were here already.” You rolled your eyes. Lux had finished eating, so you pulled her from your breast, covered up and started burping her.
She was so small still, none of this was her fault. Austin leaned down and only kissed your cheek. Not your lips, no nothing. Biting the inside of your check, you glanced down.
“I went to eat but— there’s plenty of food on the fridge.” Austin said, pushing his now long blond hair back. “If you want anything.”
“I had some fruit I saw in the fridge. I’m not very hungry lately.” You said, maybe it was just the whole postpartum thing. It was something weird and new to you. Losing hair, gaining weight, feeling depressed. It all took a toll on you. As it did on other women.
“Well, you should eat. You have been losing too much hair, baby. You have nothin’ on your head!” Austin tried to joke. The joke didn’t quite land, at all.
You got yourself onto his apartment, he had hanged pictures of you, he had added a few of the three of you. Recent one, from when Lori was but a few weeks old. Hanged there on the top of his bed.
You dropped one of your earrings and you knelt to grab it. Reaching to grab it, what did you grab? A g-string.
It wasn’t yours. You are a mother now. A g-string couldn’t hold your entire vagina even if you wanted to.
He had been seeing her again. That fucking nepo-baby. Kaia Gerber. He had been seeing her since the end of 2021. You had told him: it’s going to come back to bite you in the ass. But he didn’t listen.
When you told him to do something, he did the opposite.
But you wanted karma to get him. It still hurt, of course. You had just had his baby, it would hurt anyone. You just threw it down there again.
You two were selfish, bringing a little kid to this horrible life, where his parents weren’t that much in love anymore.
You were young when you and Austin started to date, pretty much freshly out of school. You were naive back then, thinking that love could beat everything. What a stupid little girl, who makes stupid decisions and never learns.
“You’ve been seeing her again.” You said to him.
“We’ve been through this before, y/n…” he groaned, as if what you said was an inconvenience.
“Exactly. And every time I try to tell you that she’s not good for you—“
“It’s my goddamn business, alright?” He snapped at you after interrupting.
“It’s not just your business, you son of a bitch. There’s a baby involved. Your baby. Yours.” You finally snapped too.
“Listen. I don’t want to argue today, alright?” He laid back on the couch.
He was a pretty fucker, you wouldn’t deny it. He had gained a shit ton of muscle for the movie he had started filming. He looked three times bigger than when you had first met him.
“PR wants you to be on set tomorrow, with Lux.” Austin said. Looking at his phone.
“Why?” You asked, confused. You barely visited him on any set. Not because you didn’t want to but because he didn’t want you distracting him.
“What else for? Photos. They want to see us be a pretty little fucking family. Isn’t that good?” He said, a little smirk on his face.
“Like, putting on a show?” You asked, confused. You weren’t new to PR moved but this one seemed a little… icky.
“It’ll benefit us both! And it’s a chance for you to finally see me get into action.” He smiled, as if this was a normal Tuesday. Nothing like a good ol’ PR stunt.
“Right, to make you seem like the family guy, got it.” You said sarcastically.
“Don’t be so sarcastic, alright? It’ll make wonders.”
You sat by his side, he turned to face you and his hand reached for your cheek, caressing it with his thumb.
“You have to help me out, baby. Alright, doll?” He basically purred out.
He had a way of making you want to do anything he said.
“Just this one time.” You agreed, reluctantly, you wanted to smack him but you wanted to help him.
“God, I love you.” He leaned in and kissed your cheek, his beard itchy.
You didn’t understand him, did he love you? Did her love Kaia? Did he love just the idea of you being there for him? What did he love?
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You got ready to visit him in set while Lux was asleep, once she woke up from her sleep, you bathed her in a little plastic tub.
“Look at you, you smell delicious.” You said as you basically breaded her with baby powder. You liked baby smell, just the smell of them. They smelled clean, pink, you couldn’t even describe it. “Wanna go and see daddy?”
You sprayed on perfume before leaving his apartment. You looked pretty enough for the photos. The whole ride there was filled with traffic, but that’s New York City for all.
Once you got there, you were welcomed by his publicist, Kate.
“Y/n! Over here. Listen, it’ll be easy. You just wait here until Darren yell ‘cut’, then Austin will come up and you’ll be holding Lux. He’ll play with her. Smile at you, kiss you.”
Like acting. Quite literally scripted like a movie scene.
“Okay, yes. Sure.” You nodded, pushing Lux’s stroller.
You walked to the sidelines of filming, standing besides makeup artists, the hair girls, costume, producers, etc. They leaned down and cooed Lux whenever they could.
“She looks just like him!” They said, each and every single one of them.”
Even Darren himself said so. You voicing help but roll your eyes. You hated that she looked so much like him. She had her face, yet she was innocent. She hadn’t done anything to you. Nothing. Just be born with that idiot’s face.
Then it came acting time, Darren yelled ‘cut’ and you reached for Austin with little Lux in your arms. She had a pink onesie and a little pink headband.
Austin went into daddy mode, walking towards you as he cooed baby Lux. He got closer and player with her tiny hands.
“They’re right behind you.” He said as she kept smiling. He was referring to fans there, whose pictures would fly on the internet as soon as they were posted.
They were a complete hit as his PR had predicted. So they went with it, they planned another PR date. The fucking concert. A Gracie Abram’s one at that. Neither did you or Austin listened to her music.
“This is ridiculous.” You muttered as you looked outside the car window. You wore basic clothes, you took your time with the hair and maybe the makeup. But you didn’t leave the apartment very relaxed, there was a nanny taking care of Lux but you didn’t trust her. The fuck you did, you didn’t trust anyone to be around her.
“Just for the photos, alright? I don’t want to do this either but you know— PR.” He said.
The concert was lame, not that the girl wasn’t talented but you weren’t even focused on the whole ordeal. Instead, you focused on texting the nanny about Lux while Austin drank a Corona. Nothing, maybe it it had been a concert of an artist you both enjoyed, you two would have been wrapped on each other’s arms, but who knows? With how things had been, you doubt it.
Getting out of the concert, he put on a fucking face mask. You sighed, but you grabbed his arm as you walked towards the car, the paparazzi there already picturing you two. You weren’t used to paparazzi, you would never be, so you clung onto him, at least a bit tighter. Almost like a deadly grip. Then he took his face mask off, and her rubbed his hand a few times. He looked annoyed already.
The photos went out that very night, various tabloids, and fan accounts of him posted them. So, it didn’t go as planned.
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Austin Butler and girlfriend, Y/n, make another public appearance after attending Gracie Abrams’ concert. They’re still going strong!
“He’s the creator of #ihatemygf lol🤣”
“Can she be any less clingy? He looks uncomfortable.”
“She’s gripping him like he’s going to run away if she lets go! 😂”
“They have zero chemistry. I smell a break up.”
“I’m tired of the media forcing them down my throat!”
“She has ZERO MEDIA TRAINING. She’s been with him for six years and she still acts like a frigid little girl.”
“Are these two supposed to be couple goals? I don’t even wish this relationship on my worst enemy.”
“These two can’t even make a PR stunt look buyable! If I were a paparazzi, I wouldn’t even sell these photos!”
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Looks like there’s trouble in paradise! Austin Butler and baby mama, y/n. Make yet a second public appearance but people are quick to point out the switch in their body language. As in other photos, it seems like Austin tried to get her off him subtly. As a quote from himself:
‘My love language is physical touch. Tell how great I am and touch me.’
Are we smelling a break up or was it just a common couple disagreement?
“They need to get off each other’s back. He needs a woman his age and she needs a guy her age.”
“They’re stupid for having a baby, they look like they hate each other.”
“Why is she not taking care of his baby?!”
“Do they hate each other? They’re a mess!😂”
“I can’t even look at the second photo without cracking up. Austin’s face says: finally this clingy bitch got off me. 😆”
Yeah, it didn’t go as planned. Austin wasn’t pissed but he was definitely annoyed.
“This is the last fucking time I’m listening to Kate.” Austin threw his phone on the bed. Irritated, he had done all that circus last night for nothing. “Listen, let’s talk.”
You sat there, Lux laid in bed, this could have been a very wholesome family moment. But you three weren’t a wholesome family.
“Alright, let’s talk.” You nodded.
“This thing between us,” he pointed at you and then at the baby and then at him. “It’s not working, it stopped working a long time ago.”
You nod, you knew that. Hell, you knew that since the last trimester of your pregnancy. When you spent them mostly in bed or taking baths. You knew you had become boring but it wasn’t your intention. Nobody ever told you that the life you were creating took so much from you. Lux leeched from you for nine months straight.
“Do you think I don’t know that?” You said, almost as in a tone that said ‘isn’t it obvious?’
“I don’t know why we don’t work anymore. I don’t know what the hell happened between us.” Austin pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing.
“And what am I supposed to do, huh? I hadn’t seen you in two months, you left me in LA, alone with—“
Austin clenched his jaw, tight. “Don’t out this all on me. It was your choice to have the baby. Maybe if you hadn’t got pregnant, we wouldn’t have this mess!”
After he said that, something inside of you snapped. What the fuck were you doing still with him? With a guy who never woke up by your side. With a guy whose career was his main priority. With a guy that sweet-talked you to have a baby and when he couldn’t handle the changes, flew to NYC. You changed, yes. But it was for him and because of him. You couldn’t keep living with the uncertainty.
“That’s it. I’m going back to LA.” You stood up from the bed, cuddling baby Lux in your arms. You grabbed your purse and Lux’s baby bag. Austin’s eyes widened.
“Are you seriously making another scene, again Austin asked with an irritated expression, but when you grabbed Lux’s baby bottler, he knew you were serious. “No, wait. Hear me out.” He tried to stand in front of you.
“I’m tired of hearing you out!” You said as she circled around him, getting out of the bedroom.
“I’m sorry! I don’t mean to be such an asshole. Or take it out on you. I guess I’m not handling all of this well.” He said softly.
“That’s not my fault.” You snapped again. Tired of always being understanding. Of always trying to be calm and respectful of whatever he said.
“I know. I was just being a dick, alright? I’m sorry,” He looked at you with those beautiful blue eyes, but you wouldn’t fall, not again.
“I’m tired of being understanding and kind. I’m tired of having to listen to every single one of your excuses. I’m done with this. I’m done with being shredded to pieces by the media because you can’t seem to like me. I’m done with you playing with me and that fucking nepobaby. I’m tired of having to be there for you in everything and you can’t even do it for me.”
You snapped, looking at him right in the eye.
“This is where we end.” You said, you didn’t even give him an ultimatum. It just wouldn’t be fixed. It wouldn’t.
“No, wait! You can’t just break up with me. We have a kid, y/n, have common sense…” He said, reaching for your hand.
Were you about to cry because he was holding back tears? Of course. You rarely saw him cry, but you had to be strong. At least for yourself.
“We can be co-parents. It’s the best thing for her. I don’t want her growing up in a place where her parents hate each other’s guts.” You said, you had made up your mind. “I’m sorry.”
You said before storming out of his apartment.
He couldn’t even move. Seriously. Everything had come down on him. Maybe if they hadn’t done that stupid PR stunt, they would have gotten a week or more together.
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Author’s note: This is so fucking long, wtf????
Anyways. Thank you for reading 🫶💕
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holylulusworld · 2 days ago
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SHG for killers (1) - The first meeting
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Summary: 6 men meet up to talk about their problems. They soon realize they need someone to help them solve their problems. This person is you. Whether you like it or not.
Pairing: Steve Kemp x fem!Reader, Lloyd Hansen x fem!Reader, Robert Pronge (Mr. Freezy) x fem!Reader, Andy Barber x fem!Reader, God, the bounty hunter x fem!Reader, Ransom Drysdale x fem!Reader
Warnings: mentions of murder/killing for money, serial killers/hitmen, mentions of blood/gore, talk about crimes, self-help group for killers/hitmen, world building, we get to know the men first
Self-help group for killers masterlist
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“IT STINGS!” His screams of pain and agony echo in Lloyd Hansen’s mind when he wakes from another restless slumber.
He’s a stone-cold mercenary. Merciless and fearless. Or he was. That was until a certain former CIA lapdog pissed onto everything Lloyd stands for. It doesn’t help that he lost two fingers while hunting Six down.
“Bastard,” he curses under his breath as his eyes focus on his hand mutilation. “Still miss my pussy fingers,” Lloyd grumbles angrily. “Wait until I find you, Sierra Six. You’re a dead man; you just don’t know it yet.”
He closes his eyes, replaying the scene again. Lloyd grits his teeth, remembering how he got into a grapple with Six, who blew off Lloyd's left pinkie and ring finger.
The finger prosthetics don’t make him feel better. Sierra’s win over him, the loss of his fingers and reputation, still stings. His self-confidence and ego were not only bruised but torn in two.
For months, he fails mission after mission. His team is long gone, and so is his patience. Lloyd is angry and out for blood. Preferable Sierra Six’s blood.
He tried anything to find the renegade assassin. So far, he didn’t even find a trace. Sierra Six is a master at hiding from his enemies. Lloyd gives him that.
“One day, you’ll pay for what you did.”
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“No drugs. No contact with other offenders. No missing an appointment,” Ransom’s probation officer recites all the rules he must follow. “Mr. Drysdale, did you even listen?”
“All of you are telling me the same thing.” Ransom sneers. “You’re the fifth guy in not four months. I know the rules.” He leans back in the uncomfortable and cheap chair the probation officer offered him. “All of you try to get me behind bars again; I get it. You’re pissed because I got earlier than everyone expected.”
“Mr. Drysdale,” the probation officer replies, watching Ransom munch another cookie. “I really don’t have the time to make plans to get you behind bars again. That’s not in my job description. If you don’t have any problems, we can end the meeting for today.”
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“Shit, just a sec.” Robert doesn’t have the time to talk to his ex today. “Listen, you got the money and the car. Let’s part on good terms.” He’s poorly hiding his anger. If she says one more word, he’ll sneak into her new apartment and kill her and the bastard who’s banging her brains out now. “I got a job to do.”
Robert hangs up the phone. He’s not done with the body yet. The client wants proof that her husband is dead. She’s a naughty one, Robert thinks to himself while getting the saw out. Well, all for customer satisfaction.
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The doctor is not happy. He tried anything to make sure his business was flowing. Sadly, some people try to stop him from being successful.
���You had to cross me, didn’t you?" He looks down at his former partner and sneers. “We could’ve made so much money. But you had to find your conscience.”
Steve kicks the dead man, grunting as he’s bleeding on the brand-new carpet at his office. Killing his partner wasn’t in his plans for today. It’s not the first time he got his hand dirty.
If Steve were honest, he’d admit that he likes to get his hands dirty. As a doctor, he should save other people’s lives, not take them. Still, he can’t help but feel excited about his latest decision.
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Watching the family grieve over the death of their recently killed father and husband, God furrows his brows. He never understood human emotions. The man he killed was a tyrant. He betrayed his business partners, terrorized his family, and cheated on his wife.
The man remains in his hideout to watch the family and friends mourn their loss. Lately, he likes to stick around to watch their reaction. Some scream. Others silently cry.
God likes the ones who put on a show for others the most. He did so all his life. Pretending in public that he’s a normal guy.
The truth is, he feels hollow because he never belonged...
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Andy Barber steps out of the courtroom with his head held high. He won another case and can’t help but smirk as his opponent seems to be salty.
“Barber,” the prosecutor says, venom in his voice. “Congratulations on letting another monster go free.”
“If you wanted them in jail,” Andy says, and he dips his head to watch his client smirk at the victims of his cruelty, “you should’ve been a better lawyer.”
Andy walks toward his client, a spring in his step to shake the monster’s hand. He smirks and assures the man he deserves to walk out of the courtroom as a free man. Andy squeezes the man’s hand hard, making him wince. Who would’ve thought a lawyer could be so strong?
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The serial rapist ends up dead after the accused was acquitted for lack of evidence. Lloyd recites the newspaper. “I see you’ve been very active lately, Barber. Do I need to remind you to keep it low?”
“No one asked you,” Andy shoots back. He doesn’t know why he’s still coming to the so-called self-help group. Andy doesn’t feel guilty for killing his clients. Who else would punish them for their crimes? “They had a choice, Hansen. It wasn’t me letting him go.”
“He’s not wrong,” Ransom says between munching a cookie and sipping on the expensive mochaccino he bought on his way to the group. “Baber got a point there.”
“Who asked you, amateur?” Robert sneers. He just can’t stand Barber or Drysdale. They are not worth his time, or so he thinks. He’s fine with Hansen and the guy calling himself God. They are like him—professionals. “I don’t even know why you, Mr. Lawyer, are here.”
“I invited them,” Hansen grunts. “If you want to leave, you can go anytime. I founded this group, not you.”
“Man, stop making a fuss!” Pronge shows his palms. “I only wanted to point out that they are not professionals. What if the cops find out about their hobby? What if they decide to get a deal and rat us out?”
Lloyd snorts. He looks at the black leather glove hiding his prosthetic fingers. “No one rats Lloyd Hansen out. We all agreed on complete secrecy. What we discuss here stays within this room.”
Andy rubs his bearded chin. Coming to the group to talk about the crimes he committed helped him improve. Lloyd and God even gave him advice on how to make his crimes look like accidents. “I’m going to therapy now,” he admits. “Not to talk about my hobby, though.”
“Therapy, huh?” Lloyd taunts, while Ransom smirks. God and Robert busy themselves with checking their phones for new clients. “I hope you’re not talking about our little group with the doctor.”
Steve sneers. “Don’t call these incompetent wannabes doctors. They are by all means nothing but pathetic losers trying to tell you how to live your life.”
“No one asked you, Dr. Frankenstein,” Ransom snaps at Steve. “Did you work on some nice asses and tits lately?”
“Shut up,” Steve jumps up, knocking his chair over. “At least I got a job, and I don’t live off my family’s money.”
“Shut up yourself!” Ransom puts his cookies aside and throws the rest of his mochaccino at Steve.
“Gentlemen!” Lloyd yells at Steve and Ransom. “We come here to talk about our problems and help each other improve. I didn’t come here, freezing my ass off on the way to watch you fight like girls over the latest fashion trend.”
“The therapy helps me more than coming here,” Andy raises his voice. “Your advice was good, but I think I’ll stick to her.”
The men stop fighting and stare at Andy.
“Her?” Lloyd licks his lips. “You’ve got a pretty little doctor for your therapist? Why didn’t you tell us before? We would’ve been all ears.”
“Why does this make a difference?” Andy cocks a brow. “She’s got a good reputation and listens to me. I talked to her for months, and she never pressured me into talking about my family.”
“Boohoo, your wife killed your murderous son and is as dead as your latest victim,” Lloyd mocks Andy. “Let’s talk about that pretty ass you’re seeing. Show us her reputation and shit.”
“Why?” Andy sighs deeply. He knew it was a mistake to talk about you and your sessions.
“For science,” Lloyd grins and snatches the phone out of Andy’s hand. Before Andy can protest, Lloyd throws the phone at God, nodding at him. “Unlock it, and look for the doc.”
Steve rolls his eyes. He didn’t come here to talk about some therapist. “Can we go back to business? Barber has a therapist. Maybe he even bangs her. Who cares?”
“Bangs her?” That picked Lloyd’s interest. “Not the worst idea. Maybe as a new version of therapy. Fuck all the bad memories out of her sweet cunt.”
“Got it,” God says and throws the phone at Lloyd. Y/N Y/L/N,” he recites your address and contact information. “She looks cute.”
“Cute?” Ransom laughs. “I didn’t know the word cute in your vocabulary. Show me.” Ransom walks toward Lloyd to look at the phone in his hands. “Not bad. Hey Barber, does she have a cute ass too?”
“Why are we talking about some woman? If our meeting is over, I’ll go back to business,” Steve says as he gets up. He wants to walk past Lloyd but glances at the phone. “Hmm…I’ve seen her before.”
Steve snatches the phone out of Lloyd’s hands. He looks at the pictures of you, licking his lips.
“Stop stalking my therapist,” Andy angrily says. “Can I get my phone back now?”
“I remember now,” Steve exclaims while staring at your pictures. “She accompanied one of her patients. They wanted surgery, but she talked them out of it. I hated her.” He shrugs.
“I bet she’s an uptight little doctor,” Lloyd muses. His smirk darkens as he looks at the men he brought together around two years ago. “Barber, did you already have a taste? I bet she tastes like strawberries.”
“Hansen, that is enough,” Andy grumbles. He snatches the phone out of Lloyd’s hands and turns to leave. “This was a waste of time!”
“Not to me.” Lloyd clenches and unclenches his fists. “I think I found something that will help us improve as a group. You all came here to talk about your problems and to get better at what you’re doing. I think this sweet doctor will be a big help.
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Tags in reblog.
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pepprs · 2 years ago
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the renovation starts tmrrw (LOL) and i woke up from a dream abt it crying. awesome
#today is our last day having a deck and i genuinely feel sick to my stomach over it. ik it’s just a piece of wood and it’s falling apart but#omg like… o ur house is about to not be our house anymore. like the deck is where me and my siblings played w our best friends it’s where i#paced back and forth to get fresh air so many times ater losing my shit during lockdown and it’s literally about to be gone…. forever? ok!!!#and then the kitchen is going to go and im going to lose it genuinely. like this house is shitty and rotting and falling apart and its great#that we are getting a renovation finally but jesus christ i have lived here all my life and yeah i hate the kitchen but it’s home and you’re#just gonna tear it down and make jt 3x bigger like it’s nothing??? ok 😂😂😂😂😂😂#purrs#literally im getting war flashbacks to losing the van which was never gonna drive again but it was my SPACE for all of lockdown and#it got fucking junked after being my sanctuary (as unpleasant as it was) for like 2 years not to mention OUR CAR that we did everything in a#and now we have my grandparents car and there isn’t a backseat so i don’t get room to breathe when they drive. and also my grandparents#house has officially been demolished to make way for a fucking mansion and the near total renovation of my high school is almost done which#means the classroom where i became a human being is gone and the office is going to get destroyed too when that renovation happens and we’ll#have to go make a home somewhere else. i know this kind of thing happens but it makes me want to start screaming. like yeah these#renovations will make life better for everyone (except the fucking mansion it’s bc my grandparents died and the developers are selfish and#cruel lol!!!!!) but the way so many of the spaces that have been important to me keep ending up getting destroyed after im done w them. it’s#comforting in a way bc it’s like oh no one else gets to have it be important but also no that ISNT comforting i want those spaces to keep#being sacred i want them to mean something to other people and i want to be able to go back and soak in the memories again. and everyone is#mad at me for freaking out the renovation but it’s like ok you come into our living space you destroy core parts of my childhood and also#create a situation where we literally can’t like eat or cook anything in the house for months like idk what we’re gonna do bc we don’t go#anywhere bc of covid except work for me and school for my brother so. idk. this whole thing SUCKS. i can’t believe it’s starting tomorrow#and i can’t believe the deck is about to be gone. pain and suffering and pain and suffering and pain and suffering.
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lalunanymph · 1 year ago
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꒰ nanami is forced to put his sweet wife back in her place (under him) ꒱
𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 ─── fem!reader, wife!reader, ceo!reader, lifestyle dom!nanami, househusband!nanami, brat taming, hair pulling, overstimulation, sir kink, restraints, finger gagging, nipple play, use of vibrators, chair bondage, reader gets spanked, fear of cheating, unprotected s[e]x, collaring, oral s[e]x, kento mentions divorce playfully, nanami slaps his c*ck on reader's face and tongue, degradation, pet names (baby, little slut, love, darling, good girl), aftercare
𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 ─── 5k+ words because of mappa’s horniness they made him so big and beefy what did you expect me to do
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“Fuck, baby, that’s a good girl.”
Your husband’s scratchy moan is followed by a tug to your hair. He’s got your locks in his firm, veiny grip, using it to guide your mouth up and down his flushed cock like you were nothing but a human fleshlight made just for him.
The kitchen clock ticks and you’re on your knees, still in your office blazer and figure-hugging skirt.
It was usually customary for you to greet your husband like this—like he’s pure treasure and deserves your devotion on these marbled tiles.
They were the same ones you bought with your twelve-month bonus, right when the company you spearheaded burst into the tech scene and started raking in the billions.
Through it all, Nanami Kento was with you, building your home while you changed the world.
More than anything, he was the rock which kept you from falling apart.
But, if they could see you now… how your mouth was slicked with a mixture of cum and spit and your eyes were woozy with bliss, they couldn’t tell that you were the same woman who once fired three directors on account of an embezzlement accusation. 
He pulled you off his flushed tip, those chiselled cheeks dusted with pink. Reacting like this, he was nothing more than an enamoured husband adoring his wife on her knees. But, you had been bad to him today, and bad girls didn’t deserve what they wanted. They needed to be put back in their place. 
Nanami tugged you up higher, enough to have you balancing on the slivers of your shins. His mouth found yours, insistent and hot with his lustful intention.
“Do you want your collar, baby?” His mouth was a stroke away from yours, warm breath caressing your tongue.
You nodded, not trusting your voice to break. The planes of your husband’s defined chest shook in a soft laugh as he let go of your hair—for now.
“Go and grab it, sweetheart. I'll wait for you.”
You did as he said, standing up on shaky legs that were riddled with pins and needles. He steadied you, looking ridiculously handsome even with his half-chub out and tiny pink apron still on. Nanami was just a man who could make even a trash bag work.
You stumbled into the bedroom, going straight for a drawer that was shut tightly. Using the key next to your perfume stand, you unlocked it, removing a smooth, dark leather strap with the words ‘Kento’s girl’ embedded into it with diamonds.
You heard your husband come back into the room, his body pressed behind yours as he took the collar from your shaking hands. Pushing your hair aside, he fastened it around your neck with a kiss to your earlobe.
“Shall we go back to what we were doing earlier?”
You slid back into your knees in response, shuffling to face him again. Those dark eyes appraised you with pride, tinged with an even darker possession.
“Always so pretty for me,” he hummed. “Aren’t you, my little slut?”
A dirty thrill shot down your spine, and you parted your mouth open on instinct. “Yes, Sir.”
Kento chuckled, giving his hard-hard cock a few pumps before nursing it back into your mouth. You sucked on the tip, tasting his musk and salt. Hollowing your cheeks, you took him deeper, till he hit the back of your throat, and whatever else you couldn’t fit, you fisted around the base of his cock to work it up and down.
Your husband hissed out a curse, and wound your hair back into his tight grip, watching you suck him off with barely concealed wonder. “Doing so good for me, love,” he murmured, a sharp tug on the nape of your neck making you wince and your pussy flood your red lace thong. “And to think you were just mouthing off to me earlier.”
You squirmed on your knees, needing to touch between your legs to ease the flame of desire only your husband could burn.
Kento used his sheer strength to pull you off his cock, and as if still punishing you, he slapped the tip of his fat dick onto your cheeks, coaxing your mouth open so he could do the same thing on your tongue. You didn’t complain, glad to be used as a stress reliever for your husband.
Pre-cum smeared your cheeks and spit was glossing your chin when you took him back down your throat again, this time with more urgency.
Kento was breathing deeper, his half-hooded eyes almost closing from your talented mouth. No one could suck cock as well as his wife could, and he would stand firm in that.
Your sheer hunger and eagerness blew everyone else out of the water, the devotion only you showed him shaping his unshakable love for you.
It's just too bad you had unintentionally insulted him where it hurt the most.
“Do you think you’re forgiven because I let you suck my cock?”
Before you could answer, you were wrenched off his dick, pushed back into your knees. Your cry of indignation was stopped when he shoved two thick fingers down your throat, gagging you with a wet choke.
You worked hard to please him—to apologise to him because you didn’t mean those words; they were just a product of a stressful day.
It’s not like you understand what the fuck I’m going through, Kento. You’re just a househusband who spends all day cleaning!
Careful, those dark eyes had narrowed at you. Do you want to repeat that, darling?
I said—
But, he never gave you a chance to finish.
As if remembering your painful words, Kento grunted, bringing you to your feet just so he could spread you face down, ass up onto your huge makeup counter. The mirror reflected back your desperate stare into your husband’s impassive face, his collar searing through your skin.
“Kento—“
Rough hands from days of labour pushed your skirt up, tugging your thong unceremoniously down your cheeks where the fabric burned against your sensitive skin. “Ah—!”
The first spank landed on your left globe, leaving a stinging pain on the tender flesh. He didn’t stop there—Kento viciously spanked your right cheek, then back to your left, alternating between them until you swore they were glowing hot like dying embers.
You were wincing and crying out softly, hair stuck to your temple and cheeks with sweat. The woman in the mirror had tears in her eyes, and her husband barely pay attention to her—just like how she had messed up and thought lowly of him for a split, disastrous second.
“I don’t know what you’re going through? Did you forget I used to be a salaryman, too, darling?”
His tone dripped with sardonic anger. Another spank, this time on your lower back. The tears broke down your face.
“I’m going to drill into that pretty head who owns you so you don’t mouth back to him. A househusband?” This hit was personal, right on your prickling left cheek. “Is that all you see me as? Do you think of me that lowly?”
Frustrated, Kento yanked your hair back at the same time he plunged two thick fingers into your glistening pussy.
“Oh—Kento!”
Your cry fell from your lax mouth, your eyes snapping close in ecstasy while he finger-fucked you roughly, tugging on your hair to deliver sharp prickles of torture down your spine.
The pain mixed with the pleasure till you couldn’t tell which one was which, your body spiraling closer and closer into delirium.
“Kento!” You sobbed, sure to have woken up the neighbors if your bedroom was soundproofed. “Oh, oh, ah—f-fuck, K-Kento, I-I—“
His forefinger was hitting that softest spot inside of you, and you ached to touch your clit to throw yourself down the agonizing high.
Without thinking it through, one hand drifted in between your thighs, and you managed about three shaky circles on your sensitive bud with your middle finger when Kento noticed and yanked your hand away. Your soft cry was muffled when he pushed your face into the hard word, breathing unsteadily.
“Who said you could touch yourself? Did I say you were given permission to?”
“N-No—“
But, Kento refused to listen to your excuses. “You’re misbehaving more and more tonight. I think I need to teach you an even bigger lesson.”
You could barely cry out a complaint when he manhandled you into his arms, bringing you back into the kitchen. Plopping you down onto the huge dining chair, he left you stewing in your thoughts, tense as to what he had next up his sleeve.
Nanami returned not a minute later with a pair of arm binders and leg cuffs, and your eyes widened when he immediately took your hands, placing them in the restrictive loop behind the chair. He worked on your legs next, fastening them to the wooden stems, while you continued to pathetically bleat apologies that rained on his deaf ears.
Once you were secured, Nanami took you in. 
Everything about you was softness and seduction, and he couldn’t help but feel like he was the luckiest bastard alive. I love her, Kento’s eyes shone when you blinked up at him, all innocent and cute like you weren’t exposed in such a lewd way. I love her so very much. 
“K-Ken,” you whined, shifting in your seat. The gesture unintentionally hiked your skirt further up your plush thighs. 
As much as he loved you, Nanami had to put you back in your place—get you to respect him, even as his cock is raging to sink into your tight heat.
He tapped your cheek, a stern look emblazoned on his handsome face. “That is not what you’re allowed to call me.” His big hand wrapped around your neck, digging into your pulse point—restricting the breath from going down your airways. Asserting his point. 
“Sir!” You managed to choke out. “S-Sir—”
Your wheeze turned into a cough when he let you go, your watery eyes looking up at him filled with nothing but remorse. 
Nanami toyed with the idea of letting you go once the regret settled in, but the other half of him—that darker impulse which bludgeoned his Jujutsu years with bloodshed and violence—reared its head. It was the same sickly thrill he got whenever he beat up a curse and managed to squeeze in no more than an hour of overtime to get back home to you.
For your credit, you always let him exact his pent-up rage onto your willing body—never bending or breaking your resolve. 
Even when he walks back into the bedroom to retrieve your most hated G-spot vibrator, or when he sank it almost lovingly into your waiting pussy, you could never hate your husband—even if he drove you half mad. 
Nanami stared at his phone screen, connecting the vibrator to the app it came with. You could tell he was completely focused on breaking you, his eyes never straying when he adjusted the settings.
Soon, a pleasant hum goes off in between your thighs, and you toss your head back, a dulcet whimper leaving your lips and saturating the air with your pure neediness. Your husband doesn’t react beyond crossing his arms over his hulking chest, studying you with those intense darkened eyes you could go insane for. 
The vibrator notch constantly rubbed on your G-spot, leaving your clit throbbing with abject neglect. You almost didn’t notice your husband pushing off the sleeves of your blazer, unbuttoning the crisp white dress shirt he had ironed this morning to expose the rise of your heaving tits covered in the red lacy bra he loved so much on you.
“You wore this today?” He fingered the lacy strap, and you hiccuped a stuttering y-yes. Your husband chuckled, easing down the cups so your nipples sprung forward, ready to be teased and touched. Kento hunched down next to you, his entirely bigger build almost draping across your lap as he ran his tongue over the rise of your plush flesh, growing closer and closer to your stiffening nipples. But, he never gave you what you wanted. 
Everytime his tongue so much as grazed your areola, he would pull back, leaving you keening with disappointment. Your thighs were starting to shake, the constant pressure on such a susceptible spot slowly making you lose your mind. Without the stimulation Kento was selfishly withholding, you were sure you would be strung along for hours until he decided to show you mercy. 
As it was, your husband was a stubborn man once he put his mind to something. You could barely think past the haze of your blurry thoughts, your mind filled with cotton when finally—finally—Kento sucked on your nipples. It was soft at first, barely any stimulation, but once he had a hit of you, Kento couldn’t stop. He suckled on your tits roughly, tonguing them harsh enough to make those sensitive buds throb. 
Then, he bit down on them, eliciting a soft cry past your swollen lips. Your hips had basically taken on a life of their own, undulating minutely to the cruel game Kento played on your body. 
Once you were on the precipice, needing just a bit more stimulation to topple over the edge, Kento pulled back. He stopped the vibrator with one tap on the screen, and you came crashing back down—body slumped against the chair.
“Sir,” you sobbed, unable to hold back those fat tears from chasing down your cheeks. 
Nanami barely gave you time to adjust to the cresting sensations. He stood back up to his full height, toying with his phone and sliding his thumb pad across the screen. The same motions were replicated within the vibrator between your legs—the alternating softness and sudden vigorous overstimulation wrecking your body into dividing sensations.
You didn’t know whether to flinch or lean into the pleasure—whether to cry or to moan. 
All you could do was let out a stream of weak Sir, please, oh—Sir, past your lax mouth, your body jerking like a puppet caught in the web of his control. 
If it wasn’t enough to torture you, Kento wanted to tease you, too. He continuously pinched your hard nipples, flicking them up and down with the tip of his thumb to get them all perky and desperate for him. 
He even knelt in between your thighs, looking up at you with those melting dark eyes while his thumb gently rubbed on your twitching clit. Your husband was doing everything in his power to get you to fold for him, and you were so close to putting aside your ego just to beg him to fuck you.
“S-Sir,” you sniffled. 
Kento glanced up at you, noticing the tears beading your lash line. He swiped his thumb under one bulging tear, wiping it away.
In contrast to his filthy actions, his words were soft and sweet. “What do you want, darling?” he added, “Do you want to cum?” 
You gave him a shaky nod. 
“Do you think you deserve to cum?” 
Disappointment curdled in your belly at his simple question. Kento was giving you a chance to apologise, and you could either take the high road and beg for his forgiveness, or let your bigheadedness keep you unsatisfied.
“I don’t,” you whispered, ducking your head in defeat. Kento hated to admit how a carnal wave of satisfaction curled right in his chest from your admission. “I was mean to you. Y-you did so much for me—” you lifted your hips, as if to alleviate the tense pleasure. “—I-I’m so sorry, Sir.” 
His big hand smoothed down your belly, settling on your hip. He leaned forward, kissing your forehead tenderly. Instead of accepting your apology, he smeared your tears away with patient lips, trailing down kisses to your neck, his tongue running across the collar which held his claim on you. 
“You’re forgiven, sweet girl,” your husband murmured, standing up to switch off the vibrator. You sagged back into the seat with a teary hiccup, peeling your glossy eyes on him so pathetically, his heart couldn’t help but squeeze. “Come on—let’s get you cleaned up.”
Kento removed your bindings, careful to help you stand up on your trembling legs. He held you close to his chest, rubbing those big, warm hands up and down your back to soothe your shuddering sobs. “There, there. You’re alright, baby. You’re fine.” He lifted you into his arms, careful to tuck your head on his shoulder as he carefully made his way back to the bedroom with you.
There, Nanami reverted back to his loving, devoted self—removing your blazer, dress shirt, and pencil skirt with reverence. He lifted your leg onto his shoulder, kissing your ankles before easing off your stockings smoothly. Once you were naked in front of him, it was his turn to undress.
Kento shed off the pink apron, removed his sweatpants and then his fitted cotton shirt, exposing his shredded torso lined with numerous thin, pale white scars. There was once he was afraid of showing them to you—his past bare for your fingers to trace. But, you loved kissing each and every mark left from wounds he could not explain to you. And Nanami was grateful.
He counted himself one of the luckiest sorcerers to make it out alive of that world and into a semi-normal one. He had a wife, a home, a decent car, plenty of time to unwind and relax—in short, he was living the dream he once saw as unattainable. And it was all thanks to you.
“Come here, baby.” Kento gathered you into his arms, careful to not put too much pressure on your sore butt. He traced your features, kissed your eyelids and cheeks until you stopped quietly sobbing, all wrung out and lying exhaustively on his chest. “Good girl—just take a deep breath and tell me what happened.”
His voice was a deep, enticing baritone, inciting goosebumps on your arms and putting your guard down. Your eyes slipped closed and you inhaled unsteadily, fingers digging into his shoulders. 
“One of my executives found out her husband was cheating on her and she completely lost it at work today.” 
Kento stopped stroking your shoulder. “What?” 
You nodded, keeping your face buried in his chest to avoid meeting his eyes. “He was a… a stay-at-home husband, too. She trusted him with the nanny and—and that woman knew her kids inside and out. I was so disgusted. I… I thought that—”
“You thought that I would do the same thing to you?”
Nanami wasn’t an idiot. It wasn’t hard for him to piece two and two together—for him to see what was truly haunting you.
A minute of hesitation passed, and then, he felt you nod again. 
Nanami’s shoulders relaxed, and he tightened his grip on your tinier body. “I love you so much, Y/N. You know that, right? You’re the best part of my life. I’m so grateful you chose to marry me.”
His sincerity stopped you up short. You peeked from past your curtain of hair, finding him smiling gently at you. 
Perching half of your body up, you folded your arms on his chest, looking deeply into his eyes for the absolute truth. “If you ever fall out of love with me, Kento, please tell me. I won’t put up a fight if you want to leave me. Just don’t sneak around behind my back with someone else.”
How serious you looked, and those words… those words you spouted completely broke his heart. Kento’s expression fell, and he shook his head fiercely.
“You don’t get it, do you?” 
With barely any grace, he rolled you onto the bed, spreading your thighs around his waist. His hips drove against yours, cock sheathing in one fluid motion into your waiting pussy. The both of you cursed and cried out at the same time, heads thrown back and desire coursing freely in this bedroom. 
Nanami’s pace was brutal yet loving, his cock trying to bully into you what he had been desperately trying to show for the past few years you’ve both been blissfully married. 
He loves you—he would do anything to make you happy because your happiness was his own. 
“Nghh—Sir,” you whined, holding onto his biceps for dear life, trying hard not to fall around his cock without his permission. “Oh—oh, Kento, more, more—please, don’t stop—!”
He wasn’t planning to. If he could make you believe with his actions, Kento would keep at it until you finally accepted what he’d been feeling for all these years. 
He smudged endless kisses onto your cheeks, nose and lips, each time tasting your desperation a bit more. 
“Sir, can I please touch myself?” 
How sweet—you were waiting for his permission. In answer, Nanami plucked your hand from your side, placing it right in between your legs, implicitly telling you to pleasure yourself while he ruined your world. 
The both of you were hanging right on a thread, and the very second he felt your walls starting to melt around him, Kento pulled you in for a deep kiss, one which felt like it could break every resolve in your body. You became putty for him, dissolving into the kiss and his arms. 
You broke the second you felt his hot cum paint your walls, every fibre of your soul screaming out your husband’s name. “Kento,” you whimpered in between sloppy kisses, your bodies slippery with sweat. “Kento—”
Nanami caught you the second you sagged into his arms. With his ludicrous strength and yet, his gentleness, he easily rolled you against his chest, letting you catch your breath on top of him. His lips found your temple and hair, large palms methodically massaging your sore muscles. He gripped your ass, squeezing fondly and unhurriedly, content to enjoy this moment with you.
When you had finally stilled and your breathing returned to normal, Kento whispered: “I love you, darling. You know that, right?” 
Even with your raging insecurities, you couldn’t deny how sincere and sweet he sounded.
“I love you, too, Kento.”
Seriously now, he added: “And I won’t ever cheat on you because you’d take my car away first.”
You grinned, knowing that Nanami Kento was a man of his word and would never back down from it without a fight.
a/n: mappa made him so damn fuckable in the last ep as reparations for what they’re gonna do to him next im so sick
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©️ lalunanymph, 2023
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t34rdr0pz · 1 year ago
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why do my feelings scare everyone away
#i’m just an objectively shitty person that’s just like.. how it is apparently#i don’t mean to be#i try really really hard and there’s just.. always something else#im not mad at you because i wouldn’t have wanted me either#i just hurt because i let myself believe i was good enough when i shouldn’t have and it’s my fault#i should’ve known better.#im.. literally nothing but an obsessive over jealous addict with anger issues#i am nothing but self destruction but you kept it in check for a while#i thought.. you saw the good in me but there wasn’t really much to see#and no matter how hard i try i can’t make you.. i swear i have it..#and i can’t listen when people say i deserve better because there isn’t better. and if there is i clearly don’t deserve it#there’s still shit about me you don’t know. shit that would’ve made you leave a LONG time ago#and even without knowing that you.. probably think i’m a monster#i tore myself apart trying to be enough for you and i’m just.. not. so why would i be for someone ‘better’#i thought you wanted a future but you just.. really didn’t..#i cared for you as best i could and if i ever needed or wanted something it had to be.. like a thing..#i don’t deserve anything#i NEVER deserved you but it was nice to believe i did for a while and i miss it.#im fucking dying being alone and you’re just.. moving on..#you’re getting an APARTMENT. like we wanted to do. for months. did you just not want it with me?#i don’t understand and you won’t tell me.. fuckin anything..#because i’m supposed to just be okay like i haven’t lost my savior#my guardian angel and my safety net#but i won’t be and you’re not gonna wanna deal with it and someday you’ll be gone too.#and i’ll just have to go through this cycle forever for the rest of my life#i wasn’t mad at you it’s just.. true#i have never in my life been this heartbroken all at once.#i lost the only person i thought was gonna treat me .. right. but i wasn’t enough. i couldn’t make you stay and want us#how could i ever do it with someone else? you saved me from my worst#i’ll NEVER have that with someone else. no one will EVER be you.
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coconutdays · 1 year ago
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going crazy
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s. your boyfriend, handsome and secure suguru geto, doesn't get jealous
w.c. 4.8k
w. fem! reader, biker!geto! x reader , fluff!, smut!
a/n: based on my seat taker biker!geto au! also I feel this does not live up to seat taker! but I tried my best! so I hope you can still enjoy! likes reblogs and comments r always appreciated to know y’all liked it!!!
your boyfriend does not have a single jealous bone in his body. it’s convenient you suppose?
you’ve heard nightmares of insecure men who have to know where there girlfriends are every second of every hour, the direction they’re even going to utter a breath in. the occasional story of a girl who can’t speak to any men whatsoever because her boyfriend will berate her for doing so. 
although you do always keep suguru in the loop about what you’re doing and don’t really talk to guys because at the end of the day, more often than not, they always do not plan on just being your friend, he never expected those things out of you. It was a silent form of showing your respect for him. and he did the same out of instinct too, first too. 
but aside from that, he doesn’t show any jealousy.
there was a time he even tried to set you up with toji zenin when he was still crushing on you. 
your boyfriend is a little peculiar, you’re very well aware of that, but you find his confidence in himself sexy. because you couldn’t look anywhere else if you wanted to. he was handsome, his face chiseled so prettily it was painful. his smooth voice that always had you reeling to get him to talk more. and his spine tattoo that always made you blush at the sight of it befriending your scratch marks after a particularly rough night, 
so you don’t care about the way you dress, because he won’t control what you wear. in fact, it’s one of the things you both love about each other, a recent discovery now that you’ve been dating for a month. suguru is an avid fan of the way you dress, relishing in what new outfit he’ll see you in whenever he sees you that day, and if not possible, asking for a picture. and you love how he loves it. appreciating the fact that he loves when you wear booby shirts to campus or dates with him or particularly tight jeans that attract eyes aside from his, but are worn for the sole purpose of serving cunt–and riling your boyfriend up.
it all comes together to why you wear the dress you do tonight to go clubbing with him and some friends. it’s honestly the hottest thing suguru will have seen you in so far. yes, your previous halloween costumes were something alright, but this…was different. halloween was like a month ago and the outfits for those events were meant to be slutty, purely slutty. this look was meticulously planned by you the moment you ordered the dress online. the sheer dress and its sparkles had been running across your mind that entire week of shipping with the perfect sultry way you planned to do your hair and makeup. 
you 
hey can we carpool later tonight, my dress isnt motorcycle proof :/
suguru
sure princess.  can i get a peek?
you
don’t feel like it hehe wait for it sugu <3
suguru
tease
any other time, he would’ve more than likely have gotten his peek at your outfit, you are weak to his demands naturally, but this was something he genuinely would have to wait for. pictures would not do you justice and you wanted to catch your boyfriends raw reaction when he saw the look for the first time . 
and you were right.
when he went up to your apartment to pick you up and you opened the door, the reaction was worth the wait. the constant warmth your boyfriend’s gaze always held fell the moment his eyes landed on you and took a moment to breathe you in. 
you saw his pupils dart to your cleavage first, staring for a hard second, then to the tightness against your waist and hips bringing attention to your figure. the small quirk of his eyebrow seconds within that let you know he spotted the thong hugging your body under the sheer dress. he did a once over of your legs, looking at what shoes you were wearing, before he brought his eyes up to look at your face again.
he doesn’t say anything, instantly moving forward and getting rid of the space between the both of you to take your head in his hands and plant his lips on yours. you press a hand against his chest when you feel him swipe his tongue across the top of your mouth so hungrily. 
“you’re going to kiss off my lipgloss sugu.” you giggle, heaving a little as you press your forehead against his, blinking up happily at him. 
his stare is firm as his blown up pupils stare back into you, “sorry pretty girl, couldn’t help myself.”
“and why’s that hm?” you bite your lip through your smile, eagerly waiting for his answer, still forehead to forehead with him, his hands still holding you in place.
his hair is in that half up half down duo you go so feral for, you realize this detail when he says, “you know why.”
“no I don’t,” you drag on, a teasing lilt in your voice
“because,” he drags one of his hands down to caress your neck softly with his thumb, you can see a slight crease in his eyelids at your playfulness, “my girlfriend is trying to get away with first degree murder right now.”
“you like the dress?” you give him a toothy smile and you can slightly catch his gaze turn hungry at the sight of it
suguru suddenly raises you up by clasping his arms behind you, below your butt and on your thigh, so you’re above him when he looks at you lovingly, “like is an understatement.”
“well i like your hair today,” you compliment him, still giggly
“yeah?” he smiles, “i’m glad.”
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it’s your first time ever going to the club with suguru, so there’s some sort of powerful feeling lingering when you enter the loud building holding hands with him. you’re going in belonging to someone and so is he, as opposed to other people going in and hoping to catch a body tonight or at least a good grind on the dancefloor–satoru cough cough.
the white haired maniac’s influence gets all of you a vip table with liquor already waiting for you and when you get there, suguru sits and plants you on his lap, arms loosely wrapped around your waist.
It’s when you look forward, you see toji zenin give you a quick once over from where he’s seated near satoru. and you ignore it, you always do. he’s never made an advance on you ever since you and suguru became a thing, he’s respectful of the relationship, but his eyes can never lie, he’s into you. it’s why you’ve never uttered a word to him and why he doesn’t either. and you can’t really blame him if the purpose of tonight's look was to turn all heads, not just your boyfriend’s.
“you smell good baby,” suguru mutters into your ear as he brushes a hair away from your face, “are you using the perfume i got you?”
you wrap your arms around his shoulders when you respond with a nod of your head and, “yeah. I finally ran out of my old one.”
“good girl.” he smiles appreciatively before placing a tender kiss on your neck
the softness of it makes you giggle a little and crane your neck a little, suguru pinches your side to tease you for it. 
it’s when a certain lullaby of a song comes on that your ears perk up and your boyfriend observes the reaction, looking up at you and rubbing circles into your waist, “what’s up baby?”
within an instant all the girls at your table begin to get up and rush to the dance floor and you turn to suguru, already starting to unwrap his arms from your waist.
“i have to go dance this babe,” you say hurriedly, like a little kid leaving their mom the moment they see the bouncy castle go up.
suguru can say nothing before he watches you run off to join the other girls on the dance floor, eyebrows raised in amusement at your antics then in reaction to your immediate inclination to start dancing. 
you look pretty, he thinks as he reaches over to serve himself a glass of whiskey. 
and he continues to think it as he ‘talks’ to his friends, nodding and giving small mhms when all he’s really doing is watching you live it up at the center of the club. 
you’re ethereal, the only star in that murky puddle of bodies. maybe your dress is part of the reason for all that shine and glow you’re giving off, but nothing beats the pretty little smile on your face that says you’re having a good time. it’s turning him on to be honest. he always wants to shove himself inside of you when you bear that toothy smile at him. 
and other people think the same, he notes. 
he’s always seen the stares, he knows you’re a sight to behold. there hasn’t been a day where he isn’t aware that so many other people want you. he knew it when you were merely the smart, hot girl he had a crush on his lit class, with so many other guys obviously paying a little more attention when it was your turn to speak, and he knows it even more now with your male following on social media and the way he constantly gets sized up just for being next to you. for fuck's sake he's heard toji zenin talk about how bad you are before he knew about your thing with suguru at the halloween party, hell, he still catches the frat president unable to control the way his eyes eat you up when you're near.
“done already?” satoru asks haughtily when he sees all of the girls that went to dance come back heaving a little
it’s been an hour since they all left at the start of that first song.
“y/n’s still there though,” one of them breathes, taking satoru’s drink from him, “she does not stop.”
“yeah, she doesn’t,” suguru laughs a little, looking back at you, still as energetic as when you first got there.
fuck, you're beautiful.
speaking of before,
he’s painfully more aware of it when he notices the number of eyes gravitating towards you from the dancefloor, tables, and the bar.
it’s like a bunny in a room full of wolves. or those scenes where scooby and shaggy are in a dark room and a thousand red eyes pop up to blink at them. the eyes to you ratio is beginning to get a little mind boggling now that he sees it in a real life setting. this is not the handful of guys checking you out when you go to the library with him or the nth guy staring at you when you walk past with your boyfriend next to you. this is a huge club with you in the middle and catching the eye of almost every guy in here, most of whom come to this place with plans of taking a girl home or putting moves on her. 
the thought manifests itself when a blonde frat bro walks up to you and tries to dance with you. suguru’s heart stops a little for some reason. he’s seen guys come up to you before, actually talking to you and trying to get your number, so he shouldn’t feel this irked when he knows the guy is going to be disappointed by your answer. he actually wants to go up to the guy and beat his face in.
the surge of pride that courses through his body is immense when he sees you put a hand between you and the guy and you make an annoyed face, all before strutting off and making your way back to the table. 
he manspreads a little more for you to sit between his legs, draping one arm on your thigh, the other holding onto his whiskey.
“a guy tried to dance with me,” you huff when you sit down, reaching for suguru’s drink, which he hands over without a second thought, now using the other free hand to fully hug you.
“I saw,” he says, perching his chin your shoulder, watching as you take a sip of the whiskey and cradle the cup in your hands.
“dance with me,” you turn to look at him and pout, “i don’t want guys coming up to me.”
“but you look so good rejecting them.” suguru teases, smirking a little at you
when your face deapans, he laughs and hugs you tighter, “we’ll go in a bit. rest your pretty feet for a second, don’t want them to tire out.”
“okay,” you slump into his hold, pouting
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and suguru did keep his promise, like always. he took you dancing after a few minutes of rest and letting you drink the rest of his whiskey.
he protected you from any other guys trying to come up to you, evident in the way no guys even dared get close from a ten feet radius.
he kept you close and let you dance with him, hands appreciatively holding onto you when you pressed your body against his. it was much different to the dancing from that first time at satoru’s party, he was really holding onto you this time. his hands always found your ass, your hips, even the underside of your boobs during every second of every song.
and suguru isn’t a jealous guy, so it was a little weird to you when you saw him notice a guy oogling you and he immediately pulled you in to makeout with him on the dancefloor. it was unlike any other makeout session you had ever had with him before. he was gripping your ass while his other hand held your neck, that wasn’t new, he always did that, but his energy about it was so…all consuming. 
all you know, is that instantly had you horny and you couldn’t help the mewl you let out after he squeezed you in his hold.
“let’s go,” he spoke a bit tensely into your ear so you could hear him past the music.
and you were never one to go against him because everything suguru did always made sense and worked for you, so you nodded mindlessly and said, “okay.”
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when you got to suguru’s apartment, he immediately pushed you against the door and resumed the makeout session he had started at the club. one of his hands was planted against the door while the other roughly gripped your waist to keep you close to him. 
“If you ever see toji, i want you to run the other direction,” he spoke ominously against your lips
the command had you furrowing your eyebrows, you mean of course yes you'd do that, but you never would’ve thought he’d ask it from you. he never really cared to address your actions when it came towards other guys. suguru wasn’t ever jealous…nonetheless, you agree meekly, taken aback by his roughness, “okay.”
all your boyfriend did in response was let out a gruff sound of acknowledgement before pressing his body further against yours and beginning to tug your dress off. he started by pushing down the straps, then pushing the upper half down, including your strapless bra until your tits popped out. 
he pushed both of them together the moment they peeked out and then let a glob of spit drop down onto one of your nipples rather obscenely before he went down to mouth at that same breast. it had you keening, you could feel your thong becoming nonexistent with the way you were starting to drench through it.
a bite from suguru had you squeaking before he continued his ministrations on your other breast while his hands worked on pushing the rest of your dress all the way down, even your thong since it caught onto the tight material of the dress.
you were left completely naked in front of him now and he manhandled you by suddenly picking you up and pinning you against the wall next to the door. he let one hand hold one of your legs to his waist, while the other went under and quickly swiped a finger across your folds with ease due to the wetness
“so easy baby,” he muttered against your lips before plunging a finger all the way in and curving it upwards
“you’re being mean,” you complain, feeling completely flustered at his brash actions
“what’s so mean about making you feel good hm?” he leans back to get a good look at you when he plunges another finger in and starts to push them in and out quickly, watching as your eyebrows knit and you start to mewl, “atta girl.”
“nothing,” you mumble, brainless as you wrap your arms around his neck and hook him in closer with your legs, “ow!”
he started adding a third finger when he felt like you were starting to open up more, however your small complaint started dying into a moan when he increased his pace with the third finger. 
“that’s a lot sugu,” you heave through delirious breaths, flustered at the fact that he was staring so intensely at how you were sucking him in
your comment had him finally looking up at you and you dont know if you’d rather he go back to staring at your pussy, because he was giving that same intense stare to you now. the all heavy pressure of his gaze was entirely being directed at your own eyes now, and how could you meet that same gaze equally when he was three fingers into you and making you moan like a slut.
suguru might have granted you a quick mercy when he leaned against you, quickening the pace of his fingers so you could get louder, and breathed into your ear, muttering lowly, “my cock’s a lot more than three fingers but you always cream all over it.”
the dirty sentence has you pulling suguru closer to you, and trying to trap him where he was so you wouldn’t have to look at him in the flustered state he put you in. but your boyfriend didn’t have it, forcing himself out of your grip, and craning his neck back to go back to looking at you.
he pulled out all three of fingers just to land a sharp slap across your pussy before plunging all of them into you again, “let me watch you baby. be good for me, okay?”
he honestly expects you to be able to answer him when three of his very large fingers are stretching you wide open and curling on that one spot that always has you crumbling, you know he expects you to because he turns his head a little when you don’t answer and lands another slap before going back to fingering you.
“speak up princess,” he orders so easily and so sweetly, like he’s not torturing your body right now
and you do your best to force the words out of you, legs quivering and resisting the urge to writhe in his grasp when you gasp, “ok–okay.”
“good girl,” he almost groans with a snarl as he suddenly stops fingering you open and hoists you over his shoulder, a squeal leaves your mouth at the action.
he’s walking you both to his bedroom, you notice from the path of his hallway made out from your view, and the realization doesn’t last long before suguru brings you down again, then pushes you down and bends you over his bed. he lands a slap to your ass and you can makeout the rustle of him getting naked when he says softly, “grab the pillows and put them under your stomach angel.”
and you listen, reaching easily for both of his large and fluffy pillows, and putting them under your abdomen.
you feel suguru’s heavy length press against your ass and bare pussy when he presses up against you, gripping onto the crease between your thighs and ass, and starts mouthing hot and heavy kisses across your spine. you whine a complaint at the fact that you feel so good, but you know you could feel so much better if he just put it in already.
“what?” suguru notices the pitch that you always make when you’re complaining, continuing his line of affection down your spine
“put it in,” you pout, wiggling your ass for emphasis and hissing a little when you feel his cock graze your lips at the action
suguru gives a last kiss to the bottom of your spine before coming back up and grabbing a fistful of your hair and bringing your head up so he could look at you, “how bad do you want it?”
“really bad sugu.” you mewl, feeling gratification from the sting of his hold on you
“you want me to fill up your little hole? even when we both know you’re gonna start crying that it’s beating your pussy up, yeah?” he questions cruelly 
“mhm,” you nod pathetically, “even if i do.”
his lips twitch a little at your admission and he yanks on your hair a little harder when he lands a sloppy kiss on your lips that has a string of saliva connecting both of your mouths when he pulls away.
he stands back up and lands another stinging slap across your ass, groaning, “my pretty fuckin ass.”
as if he couldn’t get any dirtier, suguru then grabs either of your cheeks and spreads them apart to get a good view of your sex, the sudden exposure of which makes you feel even wetter. that last fact seems of no use to suguru when you feel a large glob of spit land and run down your hole.
you suck in breath when you feel suguru start to rub his tip across your folds.
“sloppy little pussy,” he mutters before pressing into you. and you both groan when he starts to inch himself in even further.
the moan you let out when he completely pulled out and slammed back in was sinful and the noises that followed when he started doing that again and again at a faster pace without mercy had you outright screaming. 
you felt like you were constantly breathless, constantly trying to breathe. he hadn’t ever been this hard on you before.
and you thought you knew what hard was from him before.
“i know, i know,” he whispered against your neck when he pressed himself down against you and started jackhammering even closer to your cervix, so on point with your gspot too that you felt your orgasm starting to build up
a particular gutteral squeal from you had him breathing a “so cute” while he never relented his brutish force against you
“sugu–sugu,” you reached around for one of his arms, heaving, grabbing onto it while he violently moved the both of you, “i’m gonna–mmm–i’m gonna cum, i’m gonna cum!”
the confession had suguru suddenly changing positions, hooking his arms up and under your armpits to pull you up to stand flush against his body while he slammed up against you ferociously. it unexpectedly had your high crashing against you after a graze of your gspot.
“that’s it baby, that’s it.” suguru consoled when he felt you twitch in his hold and your juices dripping all over his abdomen and cock, “such a good fucking girl.”
all you wanted to do was fall down and rest, but the most you could muster was letting your body go limp in your boyfriend’s unrelenting hold, letting him use you as he pleased.
“ ‘s too much sugu,” you whined as the overstimulation started kicking in
It didn’t get him to stop at all.
“remember what you said earlier hm?” he brought up, breathing heavy as he lifted a foot up to plant it against the edge of the bed. it was leverage for the scream worthy pace he started forcing on you now.
tears started to fall down your cheeks at the overstimulation. it was so good, too good. It was all so sinfully good. 
you felt your walls start to flutter again at your second nearing orgasm when you sniffled from the tears. and although your boyfriend still evilly abused your pussy, he leaned down and moved your face to the side with one hand so he could be face to face with you. 
you thought he was going to kiss you, but instead he started licking your tears off.
it was the catalyst for your orgasm and you thrashed rather hard against suguru, who you could feel suck in a breath at the sporadic clenches of your pussy.
“fuck,” he breathed harshly, pulling you even tighter against him to more easily meet his thrusts and you could feel his cock twitch as a symptom of his incoming orgasm.
that, and he started to speak up filthily.
“Mine–mine–mine–mine.” he reiterated quickly, punctuating each time with a thrust, “fuck ‘s all mine. god can’t get enough of you pretty baby. so fucking slutty and pretty. fuck–fuck–next time i see toji giving you heart eyes im gonna pump my cum inside you so he can see it running down your fucking legs. fuck–you like that baby? what–a–good–good–fucking–girl. tell me you want that baby.”
scrambling for any piece of sanity just to tell your boyfriend what he wants to hear, in hopes of spurring his lust, you moan out weakly, “i want it sugu i want it.”
“yeah? you want him to see me dripping out of your pretty fuckin pussy? god–i fucking–want–it. he’ll never get to fucking know what it’s like to cream this little hole.”
“so–so dirty sugu,” you moan sheepishly at the embarrassing realization that he might just make you cum a third time because of the added spur of his pussy drunk words. 
“pussy’s fucking dirty,” snarls back at you, pulling you closer to him, “can feel you clenching around me. know you fucking like it.”
the shut down of his words had you shaking in attraction to his ability to shut you up like no other.
“never–forget–you’re–mine,” he thrusts through, “ ‘s fucking pussy, your ass, your tits, your body, your pretty fucking face, ‘s all mine. you don’t need anybody but me. i’m yours i’m yours i’m yours. ‘s dick ‘s all yours, everything, baby. take it–take it–take it.” 
his breathing was starting to get heavier and you could feel his abs start twitching against you, a sign of his orgasm building up just as yours was all over again.
so it surprised you when suguru pulled out and threw you onto the bed, your legs hanging off the edge before he picked them up and slanted them up against his body by hugging them close. “come here, come here,” he quickly let one arm go for a second to guide himself into you again before wrapping it around your legs again. he repositioned the one leg of his back on top of the bed for his leverage and leaned forward a bit to go back to his brutal thrusts. 
“wanna see your face when you cum again.” he muttered as he stared at you squealing and moaning lewdly at his ministrations
suguru started kissing and mouthing at your calves while keeping you in a deadlock of eye contact. his cheeks and ears were tinged pink and his hair had fallen out of the half up half down do he had it in earlier. 
the worshipping of your legs and eye contact had to have been the last straw for you, because after a certain lick of your skin, you started crashing, feeling yourself let go across the entire lower half of your boyfriend, resisting the urge to cover your face in embarrassment because he recently made it a point that he really really liked seeing your face when you came.
the point was proven when he followed soon after you, thrusting half haphazardly into you as he blew his load inside of you in time with every squeeze of your cunt. it was accompanied by a litter of painful bites across your calves and heavy breathing from your boyfriend. he looked like he came hard, it felt like he did, considering how every spurt of his cum was sharply thrusted into you, making you wince in pain every time his tip kissed your cervix.
both of you were breathing heavily after, especially suguru, his skin covered in a thicker veil of sweat than you, who was simply taking all of that force he was exerting. he was still holding onto your legs, resting his forehead on the bare skin of your foot that wasn’t covered by your heel. 
his eyes were closed and he licked his lips, a bit tired, as he spoke, “i think i do get jealous after all, i’m sorry.”
his confession made you slightly clench around him, making him suck a breath in at the sensitivity while you breathlessly giggled, “that’s okay, i never said you couldn’t.”
suguru lazily bit your calf again as a sign of retaliation, "you could sound less excited."
11K notes · View notes
sincerelyneo · 6 months ago
Note
could i request a mark smut 😣😣 where reader and mark just had an intense argument but in the end, they cant be mad at each other for long so they just fck it out of each other 🤐🤐🤐🤐
mad at you | l.mk
“then i try to leave, but baby i just can’t stay mad at you”
💿now playing: mad at you by why don’t we
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❯ summary: Mark learns that you’ve made a ‘selfish’ decision that’s bound to put a strain on your relationship. Next thing you know, you're knee-deep in an argument that somehow ends with you sprawled out beneath him; because, let’s be honest, he’s never really been any good at staying mad at you.
❯ pairings: idol!mark x fem!reader
❯ genre: angst, smut, established relationship, make up sex
❯ words: 4.3k
❯ tags: 18+ minors dni!, lots of arguing, swearing, reader is lowkey dramatic, makeup sex, unprotected sex (don't do this!), nipple play, dry humping, brief clit play, slight needy mark bc i can't help myself, creampie, reader uses she/her pronouns, reader and mark argue and resolve it by fucking.
an: i love writing angsty arguments (testament to my real relationships lol) so thank you so much for this request. it lowkey brought me out of writer’s block.
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The honeymoon stage lasts approximately thirty months or two and a half years – which would make sense considering you and Mark were approaching your third year together and have argued more recently than you ever had. 
But this time it’s different. You’ve never seen Mark like this, so angry that his face is bordering red and his jaw ticks so hard it might crack as the both of you drive in complete silence from your work dinner. He doesn’t even bother sneaking his usual glances at you when he pulls up at stoplights, the hand he likes to place on your thigh is gripping the wheel instead, and the only noise in the car is his rugged and frustrated exhales. 
You could feign ignorance about why he's upset, but you know the reason all too well. And while a part of you acknowledges his right to be angry, another, more prideful part, resists the idea of apologising, especially when you think his reaction seems so disproportionate to your mistake.
So you sit in the passenger seat, arms crossed and body frozen, contributing to the cold silence settling between the two of you. You prepare yourself for the earful of a lecture you’re about to get when he pulls up outside your shared apartment. 
He parks the car, slams the door shut, and strides towards your building without a backward glance. You scoff at his pettiness; he's never been so angry that he wouldn't at least wait for you to get out of the car with him. He doesn't even slow down when you trail behind. And when he nearly lets the elevator doors close without you, any chance he has of receiving an apology from you flies out the window, you think. 
He does, however, show some decency by leaving the front door open for you as you both step out of the elevator and head towards your apartment – how chivalrous. 
The chivalry doesn’t last long because the minute he hears you clasp the door shut, he’s glaring at you, arms crossed tightly over his chest, and you can't help but notice that he's rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt in frustration. If he weren't on the brink of yelling at you, you'd be tempted to make him do more than just roll up those sleeves — you'd want the fabric torn off and thrown on the floor in an instant.
“Paris, Y/N?!” Mark seethes, voice deep and uneven. “You signed a fucking contract to work in Paris?!?”
You pause, attempting to gather your thoughts, but the momentary silence doesn't offer much clarity. Eventually, you settle on, "It's just a six-month gig..." – a statement that seems to send him into a frenzy. 
“Just six months?” He rubs his jaw repeatedly in disbelief, “That’s six months that we won’t get to see each other, did you even think about that huh?”
You scoff, “You’re one to talk, need I remind you that your job takes you away from me for months at a time.”
"That's not fair," he protests. "You knew exactly what you were getting into when you agreed to date me. I didn’t agree to not seeing my girlfriend for months because she’s gallivanting away in Paris without me."
Your eyes narrow and your nostrils flare, “So what? If you would have known, you wouldn’t have wanted to be my boyfriend?”
His eyes widen and he shakes his head. His hands fly to his hair and he tugs at the strands as he huffs out a breath. 
“How the fuck did you get that conclusion from what I said?” He asks, voice sounding baffled. “The reason I’m so mad is because I like being your boyfriend, but I’m not going to see you for the next six months.”
“You’re being a hypocrite right now.”
He rolls his eyes and scoffs, “Right, because I’m always the one being unreasonable.”
“Yes, you are,” you scorn, “This job is my dream, don’t you see how selfish you're being?”
“I’m selfish?” He gasps, “That’s rich considering you didn’t even consult me when making this decision, I had to find out from your smug little co-worker in front of everyone. You were thinking solely about yourself, Y/N.”
You're on the verge of screaming. How is he not seeing things from your perspective? He's usually so understanding, so open to hearing your side. But the razor-sharp look in his eyes tells you that there's no getting through to him. He's convinced you're wrong, and nothing will change his mind.
“It’s for my job, Mark,” you cross your arms and shrug. 
“And how many times have I told you that you don’t need to work? How many times do I need to tell you I can look after the both of us?”
“And how many times have I told you that I don’t want that? I don’t want to have to always rely on you!” You snap. 
Your teeth grit as the words spit out of your mouth. They seem to hit Mark, deep, his eyes softening for a fleeting moment before sharpening again. He swallows thickly and blinks before running a hand through his hair. 
“Then what are we doing, Y/N?” He asks deflated, “What are we if you don’t want to rely on me?”
You're not sure what compels you to say it – whether it's the way you're all worked up, the entire context of the argument, or some inner recognition that you're the one who's fucked up this time despite you both having stuff to apologise for. Still, you escalate the situation from zero to one hundred without a second thought. 
“Oh, so you want to break up?”
He shakes his head and tongues the inside of his cheek, “When did I say that?!”
The fight only gets worse after that, the two of you blowing up after every sentence. You run around in circles, throwing accusations and insults at each other to the point the original premise of the argument is lost along the way of a thousand new arguments. It’s like every little thing you’ve both done to irk each other over the last month is brought up; and by the end of it, the two of you swear you’re done with each other. 
Sure, you've had your fair share of arguments, but the biting finality of the word "done" as it leaves his lips sends a sharp pang through your stomach – it hurts like hell. You've reached your limit with this endless cycle of back-and-forth; you've had enough of him. Storming past him, you head towards your shared bedroom.
Mark sighs and reaches out for your arm, but you pull away. He doesn't like this, doesn't like the chilliness he feels from you. He doesn't want to end the argument like this; it's never gone this far without a resolution before.
“You can’t just storm away when we argue Y/N, it’s childish.”
“If you don’t like it then leave!” You slam the door shut after you and lock it. 
Mark hates this more, not being able to talk this out because you’ve put a wall between the two of you. Then your words register in his mind and he’s the most hurt he’s ever felt. You want him to leave. Fuck that, he thinks. He’s not going to watch his relationship go down the drain over a petty argument. 
He knocks on the door a few times, then jiggles the doorknob, calling out your name and pleading for you to let him in. But you remain unmoved, denying him even the satisfaction of hearing your voice telling him to go away. This only adds to his frustration. He's the one you've upset, and yet here he is, begging for you to open up so he can fix things.
After a few more tries he scoffs, your words echoing in his mind once more. Leave. It crosses his mind as he makes his way to the front door of the apartment. He swings it open, ready to clear his head and crash at Johnny's for the night. But just as he's about to step out, he catches sight of a picture of the two of you on the coffee table where he keeps his keys. 
It’s from your honeymoon phase when it was easier for the two of you to say you’d never let anything come between you – when love seemed to blind you both. Mark picks up the photo, memories flooding back to the day it was taken. It was the day you met his parents and shared your aspirations of becoming a fashion designer. You reassured them that you had your own dreams and weren't just with their son for his wealth – though his parents wouldn't have minded either way; they would have been content with any girl that made their son happy. And you made Mark happy – you make Mark so fucking happy. 
Which is why he can’t believe he’s even considering leaving you in this apartment on your own after a fight. He shuts the front door and makes his way to the couch. He's eager to resolve things with you now, but both of you are too caught up in emotions, spouting shit you'll likely regret in the morning. So he opts to grab a few sofa pillows and a blanket from the storage closet instead. He strips down from his dress shirt and pants, throwing them to the floor before lying back and resting his eyes with a heavy mind.
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Regret doesn't hit you until 2:00 am the following morning, when you're met with the chill of an empty space beside you as you reach out to cuddle your boyfriend, only to find him absent. Sure you thought he was overreacting to the news, but you're also painfully aware that your own words were uncalled for. You shouldn’t have asked him to leave – you didn’t want him to. 
As you heard the front door open and then close with a clink, a thick lump formed in your throat. The realisation that you had driven him away hit you hard, and you lost all motivation. You lay on your bed, makeup still intact, as you sniffled and sobbed quietly into your pillow. And even now, after tossing and turning from your mind running laps, you’d only managed to sleep for a few minutes. 
You stretch your stiff legs and reluctantly leave your bed, unlocking your bedroom door with sleepy eyes. You're taken aback when you see Mark sleeping soundly on the sofa, his breath steady with his eyes closed. You thought he had left, but there he is, covered only by the blanket from the storage closet. It breaks your heart to see him like this; he's likely cold, and he'll probably have a stiff neck in the morning for practice. And you know it's all your fault.
The guilt eats away at you, and without hesitation, you rush to the bedroom to grab his pillows and an extra blanket. Realistically, you should wake him up and insist he sleeps in bed, but the fear of his lingering anger keeps you from doing so. Instead, you kneel in front of him, attempting to swap the sofa pillows for his own bed pillows.
However, your efforts prove futile because Mark is a light sleeper – a detail you foolishly overlooked in your worried state of mind. He blinks as he wakes up once, then twice, appearing confused to find you in front of him in the living room instead of beside him in bed.
“Baby?” He whispers, his eyes hazy as he tries to make sense of what you're doing. It doesn’t take him long once he spots the sofa cushion in your hand to put the pieces together.  
You bite your lip and sigh, “I know you're mad at me, but I didn’t want you to wake up stiff in the morning.”
Mark's chest constricts. How could he possibly stay mad at you when you're so cute, fussing over him like this? He notices the smudge of black makeup beneath your eye, and his heart tightens once more – this time with sadness rather than affection.
His hand reaches out to touch your cheek, and you’re shocked at the touch. “You’ve been crying?” He asks and you bow your head. 
"I thought you left..."
Mark wants to laugh at the irony. You asked him to leave, and yet here you are, upset at the idea of his departure. He swears if he weren't so in love with you, he'd rant about how much you mess with his head, pushing him to the edge only to pull him back again.
“Would never leave you, baby, you know that,” his voice is soft and comforting as the rough edge of his fingertips finds your jaw. 
You can't control it; tears fall freely from your eyes. He's being incredibly considerate and gentle with you, even after you acted like a bitch. Honestly, you almost wish he'd just yell at you instead. But he doesn’t, his eyes widen and he immediately sits up straight letting the blanket fall to the floor as he pulls you up to sit on his lap. 
He shushes you, his hands finding your waist where he rubs soothing soft circles into the fabric of your tank top, “Hey, why are you crying? I’m here…please don’t get upset, Y/N.”
His kindness only amplifies your guilt. 
"I'm so sorry," you stifle in short sobs, your voice almost cracking. "I should've talked to you about the job offer before signing the contract... I-I didn't mean to act so selfishly. I just... I wasn't thinking."
Mark gives you a half-smile as he runs a hand through your hair. "It's okay, baby... You got caught up in your dream. I'm sorry for not realising that. I'm the one being selfish by always expecting you to put me first."
"No—"
He interrupts you to continue his apology. "You were right, you know. I always expect you to wait for me while I'm on tour. I never considered it from the other side, with me waiting for you... But I will. I'll wait because I know how much this job means to you."
Your face buries itself in the crook of his neck as you cry even harder, and he tuts gently while rubbing your back.
"Please don’t cry, Y/N," he murmurs softly. "I hate seeing you upset."
"Can’t help it," you muffle. "I hate that I upset you…"
Mark pulls you away from his neck, needing to look into your eyes as he speaks. "It's normal for couples to argue, baby. We just need to promise to communicate better, okay?"
His fingers stroke your cheeks again, and you lean into his touch. The warmth of his hand feels so comforting as if he was made to soothe your skin, the only person capable of bringing you relief. You bite your lip and nod against his palm, because you're more than willing to work on your communication if it means never feeling like this again.
"Now, give me a smile. You know, the pretty one I like," he says with a laugh. "If I'm not going to see you for the next six months, I don’t want one of our last moments together to be so... sad."
You smile at him and press your forehead against his with a whisper. "Me neither.”
You’re so close to each other that you’re practically sharing the same breath, if you had said that two hours ago you wouldn’t have believed yourself. But here you are, lips so close that your heavy breathing practically begs him to kiss you.
Mark feels it too, so when he does, it's like the softness of his lips is a bandage, mending the angry tension between the two of you. It patches up the last few hours that have transpired, and when he pulls away, it feels as if nothing even happened.
His hands grip your hips firmly, his fingers pressing down as he guides your body to grind against his clothed crotch. His lips find yours again, accompanied by a groan that escapes into your mouth. It's only when you feel him harden beneath you that you remember he was half-naked on the sofa – clearly after you locked him out of the bedroom.
Suddenly feeling suffocated by your own clothes, you pull away from him to strip off your tank top, tossing it over your head before discarding it somewhere in the living room. You yearn to meet his lips again – the only place you truly feel safe – but Mark wants to savour the way you look. Your clothed cunt eagerly grinding against his hard-on, hips chasing a high so eagerly that your bra strap has slid loosely down your arm.
You're a vision, Mark thinks, one that has him salivating and desperate to fuck you. He almost curses at himself for nearly ruining it all, for nearly walking out on the most beautiful person on the planet, the best sex he's ever had – and not only that but also the funniest, sweetest person he knows he'll ever meet.
He leans into your neck, his nose nuzzling into you as he whispers softly, "I'm sorry... so sorry, Y/N." His hand leaves your hips to cup your breast over your bra, massaging the mound with just enough pressure to elicit soft moans from your lips.
“‘s okay,” you whimper. 
Your head falls back as his hand snakes around to unclasp it. He wastes no time brushing his intrusive fingers down your chest, wearing a filthy smirk because he knows just how sensitive you are there. The tip of his finger circles around your nipple until he’s right in the centre, feeling it harden under his touch. He pinches it, and you jolt forward on his cock, making his boxers tighten, and he groans.
He loves how responsive you were to him, watching you writhe over him as he touched you in torturous pleasure. Just the way you arch your back into his touch has pre-cum leaking out of his cock. 
He leans in this time, sucking on your nipple and opening wide to get as much of the tender tissue of your breast in his mouth as possible. He holds your waist in place to keep you grinding on him to entice enough friction for him to feel good too. 
And when he looks down to see where the two of you meet, he moans when he sees the wet patch leaking through your shorts onto his boxers. 
“Fuck, so wet for me, baby. Just for me.”
You whimper, and his hand slips into the hem of your shorts. You’re glad you never wear panties to bed because his fingers find your clit immediately, relieving you of some of the neediness you’ve been feeling from grinding down on him. He rubs small circles as his mouth licks and sucks and nips at your bud. 
“Mark…” 
“Shhh baby,” he coos, “wanna make it up to you. Please let me make it up to you, let me make you feel good.” 
You whimper with a nod of your head, humping into his hand, legs opening wider to give him easier access to the place you’re most sensitive. You let out mild pants, hips bucking more aggressively from the stimulation on both your nipple and clit.
And when Mark notices you getting close, he pulls off your tit to look up at your face. It’s his favourite part — watching your features contort when the bliss is at its highest. It makes his chest swell with pride knowing he’s the one making you cum, knowing his touch is enough to make you shake and moan. And if he wasn’t such a selfish lover, he’d think the sight is something everyone should see at least once.
As you come down from your orgasm, your eyes flutter open to meet him. Mark doesn’t know whether it’s from seeing your orgasm paired with the argument from earlier but he’s the hardest he’s ever been. 
You notice it too, looking down and giggling. “Now it’s my turn to make it up to you.” 
He lets out a soft huff, and a muscle in his jaw twitches with his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat before he nods. You free his cock from his boxers and shimmy yourself out of your shorts. You let out identical gasps when your bare cunt brushes against the tip of his cock. 
Slowly, you sink onto him, fully feeling him inside of you. Your head falls forward, your forehead resting against his shoulder as you take in the size of him, the way he fills you just right — the way he always does. 
The stretch as you take him in never gets old, eliciting the same whimpers and whines. You can feel his hands resting on your hips, then slipping to the bend of your waist, silently urging you to move as he presses you downwards.
You lift your hips, slow and steady as you let the sensations wash over you, drawing a low groan from deep in his chest. His grip on your body tightens as you sink back down, blunt nails digging into your skin. The sounds he makes only drive you further into finding a teasing rhythm because his voice is just so pretty. The sounds are soon muffled to your disappointment when his mouth presses into your skin, so his tongue can slide along the top of your breast — making the disappointment fade away real quick. 
You let out a breathy cry, hands rising from where they’ve been resting, flattening against his chest, to wrap around his shoulders. The slow pace you’d adopted was becoming not enough. And you could tell from the way Mark is rutting his hips up to meet you, he shares the same sentiment. 
Your mouths collide as you pick up the pace, using his shoulders to leverage yourself as you bounce up and down on his cock. When he breaks from the kiss, an unrestrained groan slips past his lips, low and rough, followed by another, and you have to bite back a whimper of your own.
Mark can’t help the noises, he just loves the way you swivel your hips in a way that makes him see stars. He loves watching you work yourself on him for pleasure – he loves when you ride him.
And right when you squeeze around him, he rewards you with a loud, obscene groan, a sound that makes you dizzy and limp. Everything about Mark is intoxicating and downright addicting, and you were in no hurry to kick that addiction. In fact, you craved more of it – needed more. 
You grab his hands and guide them across your body. He squeezes them at your hips, smoothing across your thighs, your stomach. His hands were everywhere, eyes dark and desperate, wordlessly begging for you to give him what he needed, the same thing he’d been kind enough to already give you. 
So you rock yourself forward, providing a new type of friction that makes you whine helplessly into his skin. Blunt nails mark into the plush of your thighs, a futile attempt at grounding himself. The upward thrust of his hips and the strained catch of his breath tells you that he's growing impatient. You know the pace was slow, but damn it, it felt so fucking good to feel him like this, every inch of him sliding into you, hitting all the spots that makes your brain stop working. It also felt like a sick little way to get revenge...
“Faster,” you hear him say. “Please baby, need it faster.”
You could feel his hips bucking up to meet you. Then his thumb finds your clit, working in circles and making you squeeze around him with a shrill, gasping cry. It was his attempt at bargaining with you, doing anything to make you speed up and shamelessly fuck yourself on his cock. Maybe if he pleases you, you’ll let him cum.
“Please fuck me properly baby, need it,” he rasps, “You want me to forgive you right?”
And then you remember what led you here in the first place. You’d upset him and now you’re teasing him – you suppose it’s only fair if you pick up the pace a little more, fuck him messily and desperately enough to have him dizzying towards his climax. 
And once you do, his thrusts grow sloppier, and your thighs start aching. It feels too fucking good so all that you can do is cling to him and let him take the lead, strong hands guiding you as he sucks against your neck. And even though you’re supposed to be the one making him cum, you find yourself buried in the crook of his neck, gasping as your walls clench and nails dig into the skin of his strong back. 
The slight stinging sensation is enough to work Mark over the edge, and you feel him twitch inside of you, sending shock waves up your spine as he fucks his cum inside of you with a final powerful thrust. You roll your hips to help him along, taking all you can get from him and he moans his appreciation as you do. 
You remain tangled up in one another as you come down from your respective highs with foreheads pressed close. You wrestle to find his hand, lacing your fingers with his as he rubs his thumb over your knuckles. He kisses your nose, then your lips, with a tenderness that makes your heart feel like it’s being squeezed. 
You don’t want to move just yet, so you release your hands and wrap them around his neck, nuzzling your nose against his before you speak.
"Mark?" You mumble, your voice tired and hazy. He hums in response.
"I’m sorry," you say softly.
You feel his smile against your mouth before he kisses your lips. "It’s okay, baby. I don’t even remember what we were fighting for."
3K notes · View notes
no-144444 · 6 days ago
Text
the grid: No Nut November!
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Featuring: Oscar Piastri, Lando Norris, Lewis Hamilton, George Russell, Alex Albon, Franco Colapinto, Logan Sargeant, Daniel Riccardo, Liam Lawson, Charles LeClerc, Max Verstappen, Paul Aron, Arthur LeClerc.
thank you to the person that requested this!!!
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Oscar Piastri: wouldn’t do it. 
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Even if every driver on the grid was offering 1,000€ each as a prize, he was not giving up fucking you for an entire month. 
Even though he looks like a sweetie pie he would absolutely be a freak in the sheets and he was not about to give up the only way he actually gets his frustration out (aka fucking you). 
Everyone kind of boos him for it but then half way through the month he gets to be smug while they’re all miserable and complaining, because he can fuck his girlfriend whenever he wants.��
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Lando Norris: would try, but definitely fail. 
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He wouldn’t care about the prize, he’d just have such a ‘how hard can it be?’ attitude. 
Newsflash: extremely. 
You would not make it easy for him either; wearing the sluttiest clothes, basically giving him fuck me eyes all the time, enjoying it when you see him get hot and bothered. 
He snaps on his birthday, and fucks you for hours straight. You can barely walk the next day. 
He decides to own up and pay his part of the bet with no shame, he has a hot girlfriend and he likes fucking her, sue him! 
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Lewis Hamilton: wouldn’t even try
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He’s uninterested in the things most of the grid do in their spare time, and he knows they’re uninterested in him too. They don't need to know about his sex life, but what people can guess is that it is very much alive. 
I mean… you two had a baby literally 8 months after your wedding, to the day. 
The other 3 kids don't exactly help his case… 
He’d say yes, just so he could be added to the group chat and he would tell you who is winning and losing.
He’d lose on the first day with no shame. Everyone knows he's just here for the public shaming of others. 
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George Russell: would win
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Not saying he’s not a freak in the sheets, but he would set up the entire thing (group chat, the money pool, etc.) and he cannot be seen lacking. 
Even if it wasn’t his idea, he still needed to win. 
You do make the entire month absolute torture though. 
Matching sets, showing as much skin as possible, everything. 
Even walking around the apartment naked. 
But somehow, he doesn’t budge. 
At the end of the month he does fuck you for ages, and you literally cant get out of bed, let alone follow him to a race. He tells the media you’re sick and all of the drivers have the dirtiest laughs as he explains. Despite every question, they keep their mouths shut. 
George did announce that he won at the end, much to your chagrin. 
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Alex Albon: he’d last a while
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 He would honestly be pretty good. 
He kind of breaks the rules, he constantly gives you oral and jerking himself off, but it wasn’t specifically stated in the rules (apart from the name… but whatever)
He makes it like halfway through the month until a particularly bad race result. 
He fucks you all night. 
When you both get to the paddock in the morning, George pays him a visit to collect the money like the smug bastard he is. 
He heard you two last night. 
He was 4 doors down. 
Oops. 
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Franco Colapinto: he’s the one who accidentally tells the press. 
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We all know Franco is awful at keeping his mouth shut, and in an interview he somehow lets it slip that he needed to find George to give him money. 
They ask him what for. 
He says ‘the bet’ and explains that they’re doing NNN this year and that he lost. 
It was worth it though, you two hadn’t seen each other in months (you were busy in uni, he was busy at races) and he just had to have you. 
He made it like a quarter of the way into the month. 
He didn't really care. 
The drivers honestly just found it funny that he told the media. 
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Logan Sargeant: would make it most of the way, but just fall short by like 4 days.
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He had done so well, ignoring all of your sexual advances for the majority of the month…
Then he got drunk. 
Drunk Logan and drunk you? Yeah, you’re fucking. 
He couldn’t keep his hands off you, and he paid the price. 
He paid up sheepishly the next day, George looked at him with the smuggest smile ever. 
Logan didn’t even care. He fucked you twice as much as before. 
He has to make up for lost time, right? 
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Daniel Riccardo: he would lose immediately.
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This man is a 𝒻𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓀 
He would kind of do the same thing as Lewis, pay to just watch the rest of them loose. 
He does last a little bit longer though (in their eyes).
 He doesn’t pay up until the second week even though he’s been fucking you the entire time. 
He has absolutely no shame about it either. 
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Liam Lawson: he would almost win.
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He's such a cutie. I think he’d somehow abstain for a while. 
He’d get to around the 26th, and then give up. 
The month was torture though. 
You literally would beg him every night, and he would just have to say no. 
You were impressed at how long he lasted. 
But then he gave in after he scored points in mexico...
Yuki ratted him out to George, he was very embarrassed.
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Charles LeClerc: he would lose immediately.
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Charles is an idiot. 
He would lose the first day by accident, and then try to pretend that it doesn't count until George actually comes knocking on his drivers room door looking for the money. 
He heard you, of course. 
Charles reluctantly watches the rest of the month play out, bitter that his own forgetfulness took him out so early. 
He vows to win next year. 
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Carlos Sainz: wouldn’t do it. 
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He’s not giving up fucking you for a month. No way. 
He also wouldn’t be interested in the sex lives of others enough to even pay into it like Lewis. 
His sex life is his own, and as much as he loves healthy competition, this is a race he’s happy to lose. 
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Max Verstappen: would be a huge bitch all month.
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Dude is like a moody teenager when he’s not getting it. 
Daniel persuades him to do it and he makes it a few days in.
Literally turns into the biggest moody bitch ever.
By the 8th day everyone is begging you to just fuck him so he’ll stop being such a cunt to them.
You do. 
He pays up and spends the rest of the month fucking you. 
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Paul Aron: he would almost win.
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He would last pretty long. Like maybe more than half the month
Despite his playboy facade, he’s actually more into cuddles and shit like that. 
 But after a bad race…
Yeah, he pays up with zero shame. 
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Arthur LeClerc: he would lose, in two ways. 
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Y’know how quickly Charles lost, yeah he’d be worse.
He wouldn’t forget, he’d just think that he can get away with fucking you all month but of course, that doesn’t happen.
George comes knocking after Charles tells him he can hear you two.
You are deeply embarrassed that your boyfriend's brother heard you two having sex, and you impose a ban for the rest of the month. 
You say it’ll help you both be more aware of when and where you’re doing it, and how to not get caught by his brother again. 
He curses out his brother the next time he sees him.
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navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)
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criminalminds4eva · 1 month ago
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secret polaroids - spencer reid
summary: secretly dating your coworker, when it all coomes to light due to a blurry polaroid
pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader
“wait, whos in the picture behind your phonecase?!”
doctor spencer reid, the genius with an eidetic memory, one of the fbi’s brightest minds, your coworker. who you’ve been secretly going out with for the last couple of months
it all happend over spilled coffee, you had been rushing over to the office, holding cups of coffee for the team working on a case out of town. as a new member of the team you wanted to make a good impression, hell maybe suck up to them a little.
so when you walk in the precint and spill the coffee all over your clothes, the work of a small town cop running into you, spencer offers to drive you to the hotel, to change into clean clothes.
“that was so embarrasing god what an idiot” you said covering your flushed face as spencer drove to the hotel
“the cop ran into you, besides you were doomed from the start carrying 8 cups of coffee in the same hand, and statistically speaking, it's actually quite common to spill coffee, especially when multitasking or under stress, the brain can only process a limited amount of information at once, which leads to small errors in motor control.” spencer looked over at you and chuckled
"you know it amazes me how much information you have stored up in your brain, i mean i know about the phd´s and everything but still its so amazing" you said looking over at him as he parked in front of the hotel, you can see his cheeks start to form a little red to them and naturally yours do too
and after that, a couple of weeks later full of small glances, smiles and of derek telling him how painfully obvious it was that he likes you and liked him. he asked you out
"you know people who share common interests and engage in meaningful conversation tend to form stronger connections and, well, i really enjoy talking with you, so i was wondering if you'd like to have dinner with me sometime? i promise i won’t ramble about statistics the entire time" he said as he tried to hide the blush in his face so the rest of the team wouldnt know what the both of you were talking about in your desk
"spence, id love nothing more than to hear you ramble over dinner"
one dinner became two then three, then you found yourself kissing him goodnight as he dropped at the door to your apartment
he leans in slightly, hesitating for a brief moment, as if calculating the perfect timing and then gently kisses you
"i really enjoyed tonight" you said after the kiss "would you like to come in for a drink?"
he pauses for a moment, trying to think clearly then says "id love too"
after a while you both end up getting wine drunk in your apartment floor, which leads to the decision of your bringing out your polaroid camera
"come on spence smile for the camera" you laughed trying to get him to take his hands off his face but he wouldnt so you snap the picture anyway
"alright enough, your turn" he said taking the camera from your hands and taking a couple of pictures of you.
he wobbles a little setting his wine glass down in the counter, eyes half-focused but full of affection. "you know,ive been thinking, well, not just tonight, but, like a lot. you’re amazing and smart, and funny, and so beautiful and i think your definetly out of my league and if i were to kiss you then go to hell, i would. so then i could brag to the devils i saw heaven without entering" He fumbles over his words, blinking slowly, but his sincerity is clear. "maybe you could, um, be my girlfriend? statistically, we’re, uh, compatible, and I think we could you know be really happy together what do you say?" he offers a lopsided smile, clearly a bit nervous despite the alcohol.
his rambling takes you back "did you just quote shakespeare to me?" you chuckled as you leaned in to kiss him once more
"is that a yes i take it?" he said kissing you back
"yes doctor reid, i want to be your girlfriend" his eyes wide open to your response, and for a moment hes speechless, he laughs nervously rubbing the back of his neck and grabs the camera once more
"come on we are taking our first official dating picture" he smiles shyly but brightly taking a blurry polaroid of the two of you in front of the mirror
the two of you knew it was better to keep the relationship private, spencer's face flushed when you mentioned the thought of how derek would tease him, or how he wouldnt hear the end of it from garcia being all happy for the both of you. knowing they wouldnt do it to harm either of you but since this was quite new and being coworkers, you decided to keep it private but not a secret. the team knew spencer was seeing someone, emily said his face seemed brighter and suddenly he couldnt stay overtime to finish the files jj had sneeked him in his desk. and they knew you were seeing someone too since garcia said she caught you smiling while you were texting, they hoped you guys were seeing each other but since neither of you ever mentioned the date or maybe it was the fact that you really were able to mantain a professional front while working, they hadnt been able to fully catch on that you were dating spencer
that was until you decided to put the blurry polaroid of the night he asked you to be his girlfriend behind your phone case
"wait who's in the picture behind your phone case?" penelope squealed with exciment catching the attention of the rest of the team
"is that your boyfriend y/n, do i officially have no chance with you" chuckled derek leaning against your desk as you nervously took your phone from garcia
"oh come on now she will tell us when she wants too" emily approached then took your phone from your hands "besides you cant really tell who it is in the picture" as she looked at the picture trying to figure it out despite your efforts to take the phone from her hands.
derek stood beside her also looking at the picture "hey but doesnt it kind of look like.."
"morning what are we looking at" spencer appeared at your desk, his face blushing when he saw the picture emily and derek were looking at, they looked at spencer, then looked at you burying your face in your hands
"oh my god, no way really?!?" garcia said with a bright smile "doctor love oh my god i cant belive it" she said hugging spencer
"so i guess the cat is out of the bag huh?" you said looking at spencer
"you owe me 20 bucks i told you they were dating" emily said playfully punching derek in the shoulder
"wait you guys had bets on this" spencer said laughing nervously letting go of the hug with garcia
"well pretty boy we didnt actually think you would even ask her out how long has this been going on for" said morgan looking playfully hurt "baby girl let them breathe" he said pulling garcia from you
"a couple of months" you mentioned letting go of the hug with a cheesy smile
"alright, we have a case" said rossi joining the team by your desk. the team grins weider as they notice spencer blushing as he stands next to you "were really happy, for the both of you" said derek as they started to walk away. you get up from your desk following the team and squeeze your boyfriends hand, a signal that all was well
"did you really think we wouldnt figure it out?" rossi raised his eyebrows as he looked at spencer watching walk away while the team playfully teased you "im happy for you kid" rossi patted him on the back
spencer shakes his head with a half-laugh trying to hide the blush in his face as they joined everyone.
⋆。°✩
a/n: feedback would be super appreciated, i hoped you enjoyed reading <33
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giannaln4 · 9 days ago
Text
GIANNA'S KINKTOBER '24 SEASON
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ⇢ ˗ˏˋ Kinktober day sixteen.
Breeding Kink (3.2k words)
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summary: Since the moment he met you, Lando knew he wanted you to be the mother of his children, and that feeling only intensified when he saw taking care of your nephew.
warnings: NSFW, +18, smut, MDNI, established relationship, unprotected sex, creampie, dirty talking, breeding kink.
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To anyone else, and as people would expect, seeing your significant other with a child should warm your heart; it should give you a soft spot for the person you’ve vowed to spend the rest of your life with. 
Lando did feel like that when he saw you interact with any kid, like when you were walking in the paddock and a kid came up to him and you always made conversation so they wouldn’t feel so shy, or when a driver brought their kid to the race and you immediately leaned down to talk to them, sometimes even holding their tiny hands as they swore they had the coolest thing to show you.
That was the first few times, at least. But he will never forget how everything inside him shifted when you first met his niece. She instantly fell in love with you, and she needed to drag you everywhere. Who could blame her, really; that’s just the effect you have on people.
But god, the effect you had on him? That was another level, because the way he felt that weekend when you picked up a motherly role when you were with her made him feel something he had never felt before, something he never imagined, and quite honestly, he couldn’t explain it. That was until you were saying goodbye and the little girl nearly cried when her mother took her from your arms, and his hands instinctively landed on your tummy when he walked you back to the car.
The thought of you carrying his child and taking care of them the same way you did with his niece — now that is a fire he could never put out, not until it became a reality. He wanted- no, he needed to make you a mother; he desperately needed to put a baby in you in a way that was almost primal.
You and Lando have been together for years, and it was common knowledge that he wanted kids. Sure, you have talked about having a family one day after getting married, one day, but sometimes he just wishes you could skip all of that and make a baby once and for all. 
For months, he kept those thoughts to himself, not wanting to ruin what you had just because he couldn’t contain his desire buried for a little longer; that was until you babysat your 5-year-old nephew, Charlie.
He came back home sometime in the afternoon, eyes tired and body aching for the intensity of the past weeks. He wanted nothing more than to be with his girlfriend and forget about the world, but as soon as he stepped into your apartment, he heard the TV and loud chuckles coming from the living room.
His brows frowned in confusion as he dropped his bags next to the door and followed the noise, his heart nearly stopping when he spotted you playing with the little kid.
“Hey, what’s going on here?” He said with a huge smile.
“Oh hi, you’re home,” you sprinted towards him, hugging him tightly when he caught you in his arms. “I’ve missed you.”
“Missed you too, sweetheart,” he kissed your temple. “And how is this little guy doing?" Lando walked towards Charlie, kneeling next to him to be at the same level. 
“Good, we are playing with the puppies,” he exclaimed, his tiny finger pointed at the TV. 
“Yeah? Are they fun?” He just nodded and ran closer to the glowing screen, completely forgetting about Lando’s existence and jumping again as his tired eyes followed the dogs.
“Don’t worry, my sister will pick him up in a couple of hours.”
“It’s fine. He seems happy.”
“And very tired. I think it's time for a nap, what do you say?” You walked towards him, trying to pick him up, but he refused.
“No! I wanna play racing again.” 
“We can play some other time, I promise.” 
He looked up at you, the corners of his mouth turning down as his eyes quickly filled with tears. He shook his head and ran back to Lando, who was still on his knees, as he caged himself in his arms.
“I wanna play racing,” he repeated, this time to your boyfriend, sniffling and wiping his tears.
“Yeah? We can play for a little while.”
“Lando-” The way he just betrayed you, you would never forgive him.
“He’ll want to go to sleep soon, don’t worry.” You saw them walk to Lando’s streaming room, Charlie skipping as he held his hand.
You rolled your eyes and followed them, crossing your arms as you rested against the door frame. Lando tried to pick him up, intending to sit him in the sim, but he nearly lost his mind, as if Lando had no idea how playing racing worked.
“No! Auntie.” Lando freaked out and out and put him back down, looking at you as he begged for your help with a single look.
“I’m right here, sweetie.”
You stepped closer to them, sitting on the chair as you picked him up and put him on your lap. He was happy again, his little feet kicking in the air as he gripped the steering wheel.
“We’ll do one more, okay?”
“Yes!” He happily exclaimed.
Lando watched the both of you in awe as you started the game, showing Charlie all the cool cars he could choose from.
“I want the blue car again!” He said, pointing at the Red Bull. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” Lando joked. You giggled at this, but chose the Red Bull for the race.
It was a free practice session, so you weren’t actually racing other cars, but you still got to drive it super fast, which is exactly what he liked. 
As the session started, you placed your hands just below his. You were doing all the work, but the illusion was still there. 
It was a little harder to drive like this, but you still managed to put up a few good laps without messing up too much, but even when you did, he was enjoying it, giggling and pointing at the screens as he turned to Lando to ask him an excited “did you see that?” Any time something happened, and every time, Lando would just nod and match his enthusiasm.
The session ended, and just like you did earlier today, you congratulated your nephew for his amazing driving. He took the compliments proudly as if he just won a championship, but his head soon fell on your chest, yawning as he snuggled closer.
“Okay, time for a nap.”
He didn’t resist this time. Instead, he nodded as his eyes closed. Lando helped you get up as you held Charlie close to you, walking towards the guest room; that was the room he preferred, saying your room was too scary and probably haunted.
You carefully laid him down, taking his shoes off and covering his body with a blanket. How was he already in a deep sleep? You had no idea, but you envy him.
While he was asleep, you took the time to clean up the mess he made earlier, picking up all the toys he brought and putting Lando’s helmets back where they belonged. You loved your nephew, you really did, but man, it was really challenging to take care of a child. Not only were they messy and unpredictable, but they had so much energy you could barely keep up. You often wondered how your sister did it. 
Once you finished up, you dramatically collapsed on the couch. “I need to sleep for like a week,” you joked, your boyfriend laughing at your antics.
He made his way to the couch, sitting next to you as he pulled you in a warm embrace, hands caressing your sides as he placed a sweet kiss on the top of your head. “Me too, and I was only here for like half an hour.”
“Imagine! I’ve been with him since this morning. I’m never babysitting again.”
“No? But you love Charlie.” He looked at you expectantly, trying to decipher if you were being serious.
“I do, but it’s too much sometimes. I honestly don’t know what we’ll do when we have our kids.”
Our kids. Two simple words that opened up a can that you would never be able to close. He stayed silent, mentally cursing the tent forming in his pants for betraying him in such an innocent moment.
You didn’t think anything of it, nor did you realise what those two words did to him, so you just reached for the remote control and browsed the channels. You ended up picking a cooking show, paying attention as if you would ever cook anything like that.
The entire time, Lando was paying attention to you — all of you. He admired your face, your hands, your hips… your tummy. He couldn’t stop himself from placing both his hands on your stomach, imagining what you would look like carrying a child. His child. He was well aware he was getting ahead of himself, but after witnessing today’s events? God, he needed to do something about it.
Another hour went by, and you were already catching up to your boyfriend’s intentions. To you, everything seemed normal at first, but the lower his hands got and the way his thumb was rubbing soft circles on your stomach, it clicked. You knew how Lando felt about having a family with you, but it never crossed your mind that seeing you with kids affected him so much. Though it all made more sense now, any time you were near a kid, even if you didn’t interact with them at all, his hands would be all over you, and when he got you alone? That’s another story, but you never connected the dots until now. 
Suddenly, a phone call made both of you jump. It was your sister calling you to let you know she was in the building, ready to pick Charlie up. You gathered all his things as Lando greeted your sister, walking her in and guiding her to the guest room.
“Aw, he looks so peaceful.”
“Well, you should’ve seen him two hours ago,” you joked.
“I know,” she laughed with you. “Thank you for taking care of him on such short notice, you saved my life today.”
“It’s okay, I love spending time with Charlie, and I’m happy to do it any other time.” 
“Thanks, Y/N. He honestly loves you, you have no idea how happy he got when I told him we were coming here.” Your sister was about to carry Charlie in his arms, but Lando offered to bring him down to the car. 
Okay, now you got it. You had to admit that seeing Lando carry a little kid did things to you, and since your realisation a few minutes ago, you couldn’t stop thinking about a family; how did you suddenly get your own case of baby fever? Sure, you were still young, and that probably wouldn’t happen for at least a few years, but fantasising couldn’t hurt anyone. 
You walked back to the apartment holding Lando’s hand, his grip so tight you thought he could break your hand if he squeezed a little harder. As soon as the door closed behind you, he grabbed you by the hips and turned you around, his lips crashing into yours in an intense kiss.
Kissing him back, your arms wrapped around his neck as one hand played with his hair.
“You looked so pretty today, taking such good care of the baby,” he mumbled against your lips, biting it sofly. You couldn’t contain the moan that left your mouth, only encouraging him further. 
He carried you to your bedroom, immediately throwing you in the bed and hovering over you. He pressed himself further into you, making you very aware of his hardening cock as he nudged his bulge into your lower stomach. You moaned again, your legs going around his torso to pull him down.
“I wanna put a baby in you. God, you would look so perfect.” He didn’t know what to do with you. He wanted to kiss you, bite you; he wanted to touch you everywhere, his own mind making him feel overwhelmed. 
After quickly taking off your shirt, he started kissing you everywhere, a trail of wet kisses making their way down your body. His touch was electric, making you nearly squirm beneath him as your fingers kept a tight grip on his hair, and his words only made the feeling intensify. 
“Lando,” you moaned, he hummed in response, “do it,” you simply said. God, the way everything inside him shifted is something he wanted to remember for the rest of his life. He looked up at you, eyes filled with a hunger and desperation you had never seen before. 
“Yeah? You want me to put a baby here?” He asked you, his big hand falling on your lower stomach as he kissed it. 
“Mhm, yes.” Your heartbeat was as strong as ever, and you were already having a hard time focusing. You needed him to do something and you needed it now. 
“Fuck,” he breathed as his hips involuntarily thrusted into the mattress. His lips kept exploring the lower part of your body as his hands worked on getting rid of your joggers, hands falling on your thighs immediately after to move them to rest on his shoulders. 
“Please, I need you so bad,” you begged, and he assumed you were asking him to pay attention to your poor pussy, which you were, but his mouth is not what you needed right now, so you stopped him after one firm lick. “Inside me.”
“As you wish, my love.” 
He got off the bed to quickly discard his clothes as you did the same with your bra, falling back on the bed as you eagerly waited for him. You felt like his gaze was piercing you as he lowered his body, pressing himself against you.
You moaned in anticipation, your arms wrapped around his neck as you felt your pussy starting to drip with desire. He moved his fingers along your sides and all the way down to your hole, collecting your wetness and spreading everywhere, finally getting to your clit as he rubbed soft circles for a moment.
He moved his mouth to your chest, taking one of your nipples into your mouth as he whimpered, and his mind instantly went to how sensitive and full they would be once you were pregnant, and he couldn’t wait any longer. “You look so fucking sexy tonight, sweetheart... I wanna fuck you so bad.” He was practically drooling as his fingers left your pussy and grabbed his cock, pumping it a couple of times before guiding it to your entrance.
You couldn’t help your gaze dropping to his member, already swollen at the tip and bubbling with precum. It seemed impossible, but you were sure you had never needed him this bad.
He pushed into you, making both of you moan loudly as his eyes met yours for a moment before pressing a kiss on your lips, whispering a little “I love you.”
He didn’t give you that long to adjust. His hands went under your ass, moving you up and down his cock. As if your sex life wasn’t already rough, the intention he had in mind just made him go crazier, because the way he was thrusting into you was bound to leave you sore for days. 
The room was filled with whimpers and slick noises the whole time, moans of each other’s names joining from time to time. “Gonna fill you up so good,” he breathed, his hands squeezing your ass, “fuck, can’t wait to see your tummy grow.” All you could do was moan, the words leaving his mouth putting you under a spell that you could never escape. “Do you want that, love?”
“Uh- huh,” you managed to spit out, fingers drigging into his strong biceps.
“Wanna hear you say it.”
“Fuck- ah. I want you to put a baby in me.” You replied, eyes focusing on what your words did to him.
His hips began to speed up, thrashing your head against the pillows as he repeatedly hit that sweet spot deep inside you. He was so deep you could practically feel him in the pit of your stomach.
“Harder,” you whimpered, and he immediately started to drill into you, the air nearly getting knocked out of your lungs as his grip tightened. 
“You feel so good around me, so so good for me,” he pants, looking down to where you were connected. “Fuck.”
“Ah- Lando.” It felt so good. So good that you are too far out of reality to form any thoughts; you could only think about him and how good he looked above you, with his mouth hung open in pure pleasure as he panted.
One of his hands made its way to your tummy, pressing down where he could feel himself. It was so simple yet so effective; he could feel his cock moving deep inside you. He gragged it further, his fingers catching your clit.
“Fuck,” you let out a broken moan, “just like that.”
He smirked at this; it was like you were begging him to get you pregnant as you began to tighten around him. He knew you were close; he could not only feel it but see it, the way your eyes were squeezed shut as your legs started to quiver.
“You wanna cum? You wanna cum while I fill you up?”
“Fuck,” you screamed as your head frantically nodded. 
“Cum with me, I’m gonna put a baby in there.”
With that, your orgasm began to take over, squeezing around him tighter, triggering his own release. He slowed his movements down and both his hands took a hold of your waist, keeping you in place so you wouldn’t waste a single drop.
Both your moans were even louder as he did his best to continue pushing into you through his orgasm, wanting to pump as much of his seed into you as he possibly could. When he physically couldn’t keep going, he stopped, keeping his cock deep inside you as he tried to catch his breath. 
He looked down at you, a smile adorning his face as he looked down at the mess he made. Slowly, he pulled out, his fingers quickly replacing his cock as he pushed his cum back into you, making you squirm and whimper at how sensitive you were. 
“Gonna have to squeeze for me, love, you gotta keep it inside.” The sight almost made him want to fuck you again; he couldn’t believe how pretty you looked filled up to the brim with his cum.
His eyes locked with yours, fingers going inside his mouth as he licked them clean. He had lost his mind; you were sure of that, but fuck, you couldn’t deny how hot that was.
With a satisfied smirk, he fell next to you, pulling you into his arms as he kissed you once more. “I love you so much,” he whispered.
“I love you too.”
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babyleostuff · 2 months ago
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─ PINK RIBBONS
𝜗𝜚 THEME: fluff, domesticity, you being jeonghan's whole world (mention of the military) 𝜗𝜚 PAIRING: idol!jeonghan x fem!reader 𝜗𝜚 WORD COUNT: 792
natalia's note: idc if this is too dramatic, i don't want jeonghan to go
⦗💌 ⦘your favourite past time? playing with your boyfriend's hair, duh. sadly, it's the last time you get to do it for the next two years.
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“here,” jeonghan drops a bunch of… somethings in your lap and sits down on the fluffy rug you bought last month, his back facing you. 
your boyfriend’s randomness is nothing new; even before you began dating, you quickly found out that yoon jeonghan was an unpredictable man. but no matter how much time has passed since you agreed to be his girlfriend, you are still taken aback each and every time he decides to do something out of the blue in his jeonghan fashion. 
you quickly grew to love his randomness, though. it’s like being surprised in the best ways possible.
“what,” you pick up a packet of colourful hair ties and hair pins, “what do you want me to do with those?”.  
jeonghan turns around and looks up to meet your eyes, his own holding nothing but fondness and warmth. “my hair,” he says and shakes his head of messy brown hair he died a couple of days ago. “we haven’t done this in a while, so i thought it’d be nice.” 
your stomach churned. how many times have you sat like this - you on the edge of the sofa and jeonghan in front of you, resting comfortably against a cushion you placed so as not to strain his back. a drama or a cooking show would be playing quietly in the background, neither of you watching it, too busy with basking in the domesticity. 
looking back, it was a no-brainer that you got addicted to your boyfriend’s hair so quickly. playing with it became a little habit of yours - before bed, in the morning, at a game night with the boys, during parties - whenever jeonghan was in your arm’s reach, you’d play with his hair, no matter if they were short or long (though you always mourned his long hair whenever he cut them). it always managed to calm you down and ground you when life got a bit too much. 
you’ve never experienced deja vu before, but if this was how it felt then you’d rather be hit with a sledge hammer. it’d hurt less. 
and now… despite that you could feel your heart breaking, you couldn’t tell him no. it’s probably the last time you’ll be able to do this before the enlistment anyway, so maybe… maybe it’ll be a nice way to celebrate his last days at home? 
“it’s hair. it’s just hair,” your mind seems to scream into the void as you grab a couple of the purple-ish hair bands and slide them on your wrist. but your heart is even louder and it feels like you’re being ripped apart. 
were you being dramatic? definitely. did you care? not at all. your whole life would change in the next day or so and despite preparing for this for such a long time now, it didn’t make it any less painful. with jeonghan leaving you’d be losing a part of yourself.
“hey,” he raises his hand and grabs your chin, “get that scowl off your face.”
“i know,” you sigh. “it’s just that-,”.
“i don’t want to hear any of that. we’re having fun tonight, honey,” jeonghan says and runs his thumb over your cheek. affection and pure love, which are always there whenever he looks at you (coups makes sure to point that out on every possible occasion), seemed to slow your racing heartbeat, because the longer you stared into his brown, gentle eyes the more your mind seemed to quiet down. oh, how you are going to miss that lovesick stare. “no more sad faces, yeah?” 
you swallow and nod, your heart heavy from all the emotions. the pink ribbons and blue pins look like the opposite of what you are feeling, but… you have to be strong. if not for yourself, then for jeonghan. 
“any specific requests?” you ask and comb your fingers gently through his silky hair.
“nope. whatever you do,” he says and turns his back to you, “it’ll look perfect.” you couldn't see jeonghan’s face, but you could hear the smile in his voice. 
placing a peck on your exposed leg, he makes himself comfortable against the cushions and lets out his grandpa-esque sigh. 
what the next days are going to bring - you aren’t sure. you don’t even want to think about it. but for now… for now, you are as content as you can be. enveloped by your love’s affection like a security blanket, his warm hands sliding up and down your calves, as if reminding you that he’s still there, it is enough for you. enough to swallow your tears and put a brave smile on your face for the man sitting in front of you. 
for now it is only you and him and all the pink ribbons.
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harrysfolklore · 1 month ago
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casual - ln4
summary: you’re in a situationship with lando norris, one that you know is going to break your heart, but you can’t seem to walk away. wc: 11.7k
folkie radio: i was about to scrap this entire fic bc i just didn’t like they way it was turning out but i finished it 😭 i’m still not really confident about it but i hope you enjoy it. disclaimer: this is angsty !!
MASTERLIST | MY PATREON
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You and Lando. Lando and You. An undefined space, more than friends, less than a relationship. You remember it like it was yesterday, though almost a year has passed.
It started innocently enough. As a data analyst and strategist for McLaren, you often found yourself working late nights, poring over race statistics and performance metrics. Lando would sometimes wander into the office, restless after a day of simulations and meetings.
At first, your interactions were purely professional - discussing tire degradation rates or fuel consumption patterns. But gradually, conversations began to drift, getting more personal and personal.
The shift happened subtly. One night, after a particularly grueling race weekend, you were both exhausted, sprawled on the office couch analyzing data. Lando's head drooped onto your shoulder, and for a moment, neither of you moved. The air crackled with tension.
"We shouldn't," you murmured, even as you turned to face him.
"Probably not," Lando agreed, his blue eyes flickering to your lips.
The kiss was inevitable, months of built-up attraction finally finding release. And then came another, and another.
When Lando suggested heading back to his place, you found yourself saying yes without hesitation.
Before you knew it, you were in his apartment, you could feel the tension in the air. Lando stepped closer, his hand cupping your cheek.
"I've been wanting to do this for a while," he murmured, before leaning in to kiss you again.
Clothes were shed as you made your way to his bedroom, falling onto his bed in a tangle of limbs.
The next morning, sunlight streams through unfamiliar curtains, and you blink awake, momentarily disoriented. Lando's sleeping form beside you brings the memories of last night flooding back.
Lando stirs, his blue eyes meeting yours. "Morning," he mumbles, a shy smile playing on his lips. "So... that happened."
You nod, unsure of what to say. "It did."
An awkward silence stretches between you, the weight of the previous night settling in. You would be lying if you said that you didn't enjoy it. You did. You enjoyed it a lot. But you knew the implications of getting close with someone like Lando Norris.
"Look, Iast night was great," finally, Lando speaks. "But my life, my career... it's complicated."
"I understand," you reply, trying to hide the embarrassment on your face, "I mean, we're work colleges after all, it's complicated for me too."
"I'm not saying I regret this," he quickly adds, "I just... I can't offer you something else right now."
You take a deep breath, weighing your options. "So what are you offering?"
"Honestly? I don't know," Lando runs a hand through his tousled hair, "But I'd like to keep seeing you, if you're okay with... not defining things?"
And so begins, your undefined journey with Lando Norris. From that moment, your relationship existed in a grey area. At work, you maintained professionalism, but stolen glances, brushed hands and the way your clothes always ended up in his bedroom floor told a different story.
You know it's not ideal, to have a situationship with Lando Norris. Not when you know you could really fall for him and jeopardize your job. But at the same time, you can't walk away.
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You love you job so much, and the fact that you're willing to shut the rest of the world away in order to focus on what you needed to do proved it.
As the Japanese Grand Prix weekend unfolded, you found yourself buried in work. The Suzuka circuit always presented challenges, and you were determined to give the team every advantage possible.
You were so engrossed in your data analysis that you barely noticed Lando enter the temporary office setup. His hand on your shoulder made you jump.
"Christ, Lando! You scared me," you exclaimed, pulling off your headphones.
He grinned, but there was a hint of something else in his eyes. "Come with me," he said, taking your hand and gently pulling you up.
"Lando, I'm in the middle of-"
"It can wait," he insisted, leading you out of the office and towards his driver's room.
Once inside, he closed the door and leaned against it, watching you with an intensity that made your heart race.
"I miss you," he said simply.
You felt a pang of guilt. It had been weeks since you'd had any real time alone together. "I've been busy," you replied, trying to keep your tone light.
"Busy doing what?" Lando raised an eyebrow.
"Coming up with strategies so you can win races, actually," you retorted, a hint of challenge in your voice.
"Oh really? And how's that going?" he stepped closer, a teasing glint in his eye.
"Well, if you'd stop distracting me," you tilted your chin up defiantly, "Maybe I could finish and you'd find out."
Lando chuckled, closing the distance between you. His hands found your waist, pulling you against him. "Maybe I like distracting you," he murmured, his breath warm against your ear.
You shivered involuntarily. "Lando..." you warned, but there was no real resistance in your voice.
"Tell me about these strategies," he said, his lips now trailing along your jawline. "How are you planning to make me faster?"
You struggled to maintain your train of thought as his touch sent sparks through your body. "Well," you managed, "I've been analyzing your cornering speeds and-"
Lando cut you off with a kiss, deep and passionate. When he pulled away, you were both breathless.
"Sorry," he grinned, not looking sorry at all. "You were saying?"
"You're impossible, you know that?"
Before he can even reply, you drag him for another kiss. His fingers tangled in your hair as he pulls you closer, your hands slid under his team shirt, tracing the lean muscles of his back.
When you broke apart, Lando's eyes were dark with desire.
"I thought I was the one who distracted you. Seems like you're just as needy as I am," he smirked, his voice low and teasing.
"Don't flatter yourself, Norris," you felt a blush creep up your cheeks, but matched his playful tone, "I'm just... thorough in my research."
Lando's laugh was warm against your neck as he pressed a kiss there. "Is that what we're calling it now?"
"We're not calling it a relationship, aren't we?" you blurted out before you could even think about it.
Lando's expression softened for a moment, a flicker of something unreadable passing through his eyes. But quickly, his trademark grin returned.
"Well, we're not calling it a relationship," he said, his tone light and teasing, "maybe we should call it a 'performance enhancement program'. You know, for the sake of the team."
You couldn't help but laugh, even as you felt a twinge in your chest at the casual deflection of the relationship topic. "Oh, is that what this is? And here I thought I was just your favorite data analyst."
"Oh, you definitely are," Lando murmured, leaning in for another kiss. "The very best at... analyzing my data."
You rolled your eyes at the innuendo but smiled despite yourself. "As tempting as it is to continue this 'program'," you said, gently pushing him back, "I really do need to get back to work. Those race strategies won't write themselves, you know."
"Fine, fine. Go make me faster on paper. But don't forget, I might need some hands-on analysis later."
"We'll see about that, hotshot," you replied, straightening your clothes and heading for the door. "Focus on your qualifying first."
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It's late, well past midnight, when your phone buzzes with a text. You're still up, reviewing data from the day's practice sessions. The message is from Lando, of course.
"Room 507. Now. Please?"
You can't help but smile, imagining the impatience and desire behind those words. You type back:
"Demanding, aren't we? What if I'm busy?"
His reply comes quickly: "Busy with what? I know you're probably still working. Take a break. You deserve it.”
You laugh softly. "I deserve it, huh? Well, when you put it that way..."
"So you're coming?"
You pause, pretending to consider it, even though you both know you're already reaching for your room key. "I suppose I could spare a few minutes."
"There's my girl"
You slip out of your room, heart racing with anticipation. You've done this countless of times before, sneaking out of your hotel room to end up naked in Lando's, but you still felt like a teenage girl every single time.
The hotel corridor is quiet, your footsteps muffled by the plush carpet. You're so focused on reaching Lando's room that you almost collide with someone rounding the corner.
"Whoa, sorry!" You step back, then freeze as you realize it's Oscar, who looks equally surprised.
"Oh, hey. Bit late for a walk, isn't it?"
Your mind races, searching for a plausible excuse. "I, uh... couldn't sleep. Thought I'd grab some ice."
"Ice?" Oscar's brow furrows slightly, "At this hour?"
"Yeah, you know... for my water," you say lamely, cringing at how unconvincing you sound. "Helps me... think better. For work."
"Right," Oscar says slowly, clearly not buying it but too polite to press further. "Well, don't let me keep you from your... ice-enhanced thinking."
You force a laugh. "Thanks. Goodnight, Oscar."
As you hurry past him, you can feel his curious gaze on your back. You silently pray he doesn't mention this encounter to anyone else on the team.
One of the main reasons why you agreed to mess around with Lando without a label was exactly that, the fear of putting your job at risk. You worked hard for it, and you would never forgive yourself if you lost it due to getting in a relationship with one of the drivers.
Which lead you to getting in a goddamn situationship.
Finally reaching room 507, you knock softly. Lando opens the door almost immediately, pulling you inside with a grin.
"Took you long enough," he teases, his arms wrapping around your waist.
"Yeah, well, I just had to convince your teammate that I'm wandering the halls at 1 AM in search of ice. So thanks for that," you retort, but there's no real annoyance in your voice.
"You ran into Oscar?" Lando's eyes widen, "What did you tell him?"
"That I needed ice. For thinking."
"Ice for thinking?" he bursts out laughing. "That's the best you could come up with?"
"Hey, you try coming up with a believable excuse on the spot!" you protest, swatting his arm playfully.
"Fair enough," Lando concedes, still chuckling. "Now, where were we? I believe you were going to help me with some... performance analysis?"
As Lando leans in, your lips meet in a passionate kiss. The tension that's been building all day finally releases as you melt into his embrace. His hands roam your body, pulling you closer as the kiss deepens.
"I've been thinking about this all day," he murmurs, his voice low and husky.
"Oh really?" you tease, running your fingers through his hair. "I thought you were supposed to be focusing on your lap times."
"Who says I can't do both?"
Lando's lips find your neck, trailing kisses along your jawline. You tilt your head back, a soft sigh escaping your lips. Your hands slide under his t-shirt, tracing his sides.
He guides you towards the bed, your bodies pressed close together. As the back of your knees hit the mattress, you fall back, pulling Lando with you. He hovers over you, his weight supported on his forearms.
"You're beautiful," he whispers, his eyes roaming your face.
You reach up to cup his cheek, drawing him down for another kiss. This one is slower, deeper, filled with unspoken emotions.
As things heat up, clothes start to come off. Lando's shirt is the first to go, followed quickly by yours. Skin meets skin, and the world narrows down to just the two of you, lost in each other's touch.
The night stretches on, filled with whispered words, soft moans, and the rustle of sheets. You can't help but think that this undefined thing with Lando is getting more complicated by the day but you decide that's a problem for future you to worry about.
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After an exhausting triple header across three different countries, you finally have a well-deserved two-week break.
The past few races have been grueling, with long nights analyzing data and strategizing for each track. While you love your job, the intense schedule has left you drained. Now back home, you decide it's time to unwind and have some fun with your friends.
It's Friday evening, and you're getting ready for a girls' night out. Usually, you’d spend your Friday with Lando, but this time you were dying for a chance to let loose, dance with your friends and forget about work for a while. 
And maybe, forget about your little situationship, too.
Speak of the devil and he shall appear, they say. Because as if on cue your phone starts buzzing with an incoming FaceTime call. Lando's name flashes on the screen.
You answer, propping the phone up on your dresser. "Hey, Lan," you greet him while still doing your makeup.
"Hey, you," he replies, his eyes widening slightly as he takes in your appearance. "Wow, you look hot. Are you going somewhere?"
You nod, turning back to the mirror to continue applying your eyeshadow. "Yep, heading out tonight. It's been ages since I've had a proper night out."
"Oh," Lando says, his tone curious. "Like, out out? Are you... um, going on a date or something?"
You can't help but smirk a little at his barely concealed interest. "Why, Lando Norris, are you fishing for information?" you tease. "I mean, I could be going on a date. We're not exclusive, after all."
Lando's expression falters for a moment before he catches himself, forcing a casual laugh. "No, no, of course not. I was just, you know, curious. Making conversation and all that."
You watch him in the phone screen, noticing how he's trying to play it cool but failing miserably. His jaw is tense, and he's fidgeting more than usual.
Taking pity on him, you decide to put him out of his misery. "Relax, Lando. It's just girls' night. After that triple header, I need to blow off some steam with my friends."
"Oh, right. Cool, cool," the relief on his face is palpable, "That sounds fun."
"Were you jealous, Norris?" you raise an eyebrow at him.
"Me? Jealous? Nah," he scoffs, but the slight blush creeping up his neck betrays him. "I mean, like you said, we're not... you know."
"Exclusive," you finish for him, feeling a familiar twinge in your chest at the word.
"Right," Lando nods, looking a bit uncomfortable. "Anyway, I hope you have a great time tonight. You deserve it after all the hard work these past few weeks."
"Thanks, Lan. I plan to."
"Call me if you need me to pick you up," Lando assures, making you smile softly. Maybe he actually cares about you, you think.
"Don't worry, I can handle myself."
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Just as Lando was expecting, you call him around 2 AM, asking if he could come pick you up from the club.
He doesn’t think twice before he’s getting up, putting a hoodie on and grabbing his keys to leave the house.
His car pulls up outside the club about 15 minutes later. You make your way to the vehicle, sliding into the passenger seat with a giggle.
"Thanks for coming," you say, leaning towards him with a grin.
“Of course, love,” Lando looks you over, a playful smirk on his face. "Looks like someone had fun tonight."
“I did, but I missed you,” you say as he starts driving, you’re not sure if he’ll take you to your place or his, but you don’t want to sleep without him, "Oh! I have to tell you something,"
"Well do tell," he encourages, glancing at you with interest.
"There was this guy at the club," you begin, noticing how Lando's eyebrow quirks up. "He was really handsome, and he was flirting with me."
"Was he now?" Lando asks, his tone light but with an undercurrent of something else.
"Yup," you say, popping the 'p' sound. "I pushed him away. Because even though you might not be my boyfriend, I only want you. No one else."
Lando's lips curl into a pleased smile. "Is that so?" he says, his voice low and teasing. "And here I thought I was just your favorite Uber driver."
You burst into laughter, the sound filling the car. Then, feeling bold, you place your hand on his thigh. "Will you sleep with me tonight?"
Lando doesn't even flinch. Instead, he shoots you a mischievous look. "Just like that? Usually, I at least buy you dinner first."
You groan, moving your hand from his thigh but he quickly catches it and kisses your palm before resting it there again, “Of course I’ll stay with you, baby.”
As you arrive home, Lando helps you inside, his arm steady around your waist. You stumble a bit, giggling as you lean into him.
"Careful there," he says, "Let's get you sorted, shall we?"
He guides you to the kitchen, one hand on the small of your back. You hop onto a barstool, watching as he moves around your kitchen with surprising familiarity.
"Let's get some water in you," he says, filling a large glass. "And maybe some food too. When's the last time you ate?"
You scrunch your nose, trying to remember. "Um... before we went out? I think?"
Lando shakes his head, a fond smile on his face. "No wonder you're in this state. Drink this," he hands you the water, "and I'll make you a sandwich."
You sip the water obediently, watching him as he rummages through your fridge. "You don't have to do all this, you know," you say softly.
"I want to," he looks up at you, his eyes soft. "Let me take care of you, yeah?"
As you finish your water, he slides a plate with a sandwich in front of you. "Eat up, pretty girl. It'll help sober you up."
You take a bite, suddenly realizing how hungry you are. As you eat, Lando leans against the counter, watching you with amusement and something else you can't quite name.
"So," he says casually, "tell me about this handsome guy at the club."
You swallow your bite, looking up at him. "Jealous, Norris?"
"Just curious," he shrugs, a smirk playing at his lips. "You said you pushed him away?"
You nod, setting down the sandwich. "I did. He was nice, but... he wasn't you."
The words hang in the air between you, heavy with implication. Lando's eyes sparkle, but he doesn't say anything.
You slide off the barstool and step closer to him. Your hands find his chest and you lean in, pressing your lips to his. He kisses back, his hands settling on your waist, pulling you closer. The kiss deepens, and you feel a warmth spreading through you that has nothing to do with the alcohol.
But then Lando pulls away gently, resting his forehead against yours. "Let's go to sleep, pretty girl," he says, his voice low and a bit rough. "You need rest."
You pout, your fingers playing with the collar of his shirt. "But I want you," you whisper, leaning in so your lips are inches from his.
"And you can have me," he says softly, cupping your face with one hand. "But right now we're going to sleep."
You start to protest, but he silences you with a gentle kiss on the forehead. "Come on, let's get you to bed."
As he leads you to the bedroom, Lando's mind is in turmoil. He's acutely aware of the growing feelings he has for you - feelings that go far beyond the casual arrangement you've had so far. The way his heart races when you're near, the constant urge to make you smile, the fierce protectiveness he feels - it all points to something deeper, that both thrills and terrifies him.
But with these feelings comes a familiar fear. Commitment has always been hard for him. The demands of his career, the pressure of the public eye, the fear of letting someone down - they all contribute to his hesitation. And yet, as he looks at you now, soft and vulnerable in his arms, he can't help but wonder if you might be worth the risk.
In the bedroom, he helps you change into comfortable sleepwear. As you both lay down, you curl into his side, your head on his chest. The steady beat of his heart is soothing, and you feel yourself starting to drift off.
"Lando?" you ask, your voice sleepy.
"Hmm?" His hand is running through your hair, the gesture comforting.
"Do you push away the beautiful girls that come up to flirt with you? Like I did tonight?"
You feel his chest rise with a deep breath. There's a pause before he answers, "I do," he says softly. "There's only one girl I'm interested in."
You lift your head slightly, trying to look at him through heavy-lidded eyes. "Really? Who's that?"
He chuckles, the sound rumbling in his chest. "I think you know, pretty girl."
You're fighting sleep now, but you're determined to get an answer. "Well, I don't believe you," you mumble, the words slurring together. "Prove it."
Lando opens his mouth to reply, but he realizes you're already asleep, your breathing evening out. He looks down at you, a fond smile on his face. Pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead, he whispers, "Maybe I'll show you soon."
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The Hungarian Grand Prix has just concluded, and the atmosphere in the McLaren garage is torn between elation and tension.
Oscar has claimed his first Formula 1 victory, a monumental achievement for him and the team. However, the circumstances of his win have left a bitter taste in Lando's mouth, casting a shadow over what should have been a moment of pure celebration for everyone.
You're standing off to the side, your mind racing. The strategy call wasn't yours directly, but as part of the team, you can't help feeling partly responsible for the decision that affected both drivers.
As Lando storms into the garage, his face like thunder, you brace yourself for the fallout. His usual easy-going demeanor is nowhere to be seen, replaced by a storm of anger and disappointment. You've seen Lando upset before, but this felt different.
"Lando," you start, reaching out to him, your voice soft and tentative.
"Save it," he snaps, his blue eyes flashing with anger as he brushes past you. The coldness in his voice makes you flinch. "I don't want to hear it. Not from you, not from anyone."
For the rest of the day, Lando avoids you like the plague. You take separate flights home so you don't really see him or hear from him after you left the circuit.
Over the next few days, you try reaching out via text, each message more desperate than the last. But they go unanswered, each 'read' receipt another twist of the knife. This isn't like Lando, to shut everyone out so completely. You can't help but wonder if this is about more than just the race.
Finally, unable to bear it any longer, you decide to go to his place. It's a risky move, you know, but the thought of leaving things like this is unbearable. Using the spare key he gave you months ago - a gesture that had felt so significant at the time - you let yourself in.
The apartment is quiet, but not empty. You can feel his presence, sense the tension in the air.
"Lando?" you call out, your voice echoing slightly in the silent space.
You hear movement from his bedroom, and soon enough he emerges, dressed to go out, and freezes when he sees you. His expression hardens, the warmth you're used to seeing in his eyes replaced by a cold, distant look. "What are you doing here?"
"We need to talk, Lando," you say, your voice firm despite the nervous flutter in your stomach. "You can't just shut me out like this. It's not fair, and it's not right."
"I don't have time for this right now," Lando's jaw clenches, his gaze darting away from yours, "I'm heading out."
"Of course you are," you say, unable to keep the bitterness from your voice. "Because going out and partying is so much easier than facing your problems, isn't it?"
His eyes narrow, a spark of anger igniting, "What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means you're running away," you say, taking a step closer. "From the race, from the team, from me. We're all just trying to do our best, Lando. The team made a call, and it worked out for the best. Why can't you see that?"
"Because it wasn't the best for me!" Lando explodes, his composure finally cracking. "Do you have any idea what it's like? To have victory in your grasp and then have it taken away? To be told that you're not good enough, that your teammate is the better choice?"
"That's not what happened, and you know it," you argue back, your own frustration bubbling over. "It was a strategic decision, not a judgment on your abilities. You're letting your ego cloud your judgment."
"My ego?" Lando's laugh is harsh and humorless, "That's rich, coming from someone who's never had to make these kinds of sacrifices."
The words hang in the air between you, sharp and cutting. You take a deep breath, trying to calm the storm of emotions inside you. You's never had an argument like this before.
"Fine," you say finally, your voice quiet but firm. "Go out if that's what you want. But don't call me when you're feeling lonely later tonight. I'm not just some convenient comfort for when you decide you need me."
Something flashes in Lando's eyes – hurt, perhaps, or regret. But it's quickly replaced by a hardness that makes your heart ache.
"Don't worry," he retorts, his voice cold. "I can always find another girl to keep me company. I don't need you for that."
The words hit you like a physical blow, and you take an involuntary step back. The undefined nature of your relationship, once thrilling in its potential, now feels like a weapon being used against you.
"Is that what this is to you?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper. "Just a convenient arrangement? Someone to warm your bed when you can't find anyone else?"
Lando's expression softens for a moment, regret flickering across his features. But he doesn't take back his words. Instead, he turns away, his hand on the front door.
"You know your way out." And with that, he's out of the door.
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A week later, Formula 1 has moved to the iconic Spa-Francorchamps circuit in Belgium. The air is thick with anticipation - not just for the upcoming race, but for the looming summer break that follows.
You've thrown yourself into your work, burying your emotions under a mountain of data analysis and strategy planning. The tension between you and Lando hasn't gone unnoticed by the team, but thankfully, everyone's too focused on the upcoming race to pry.
You haven't spoke to Lando after your argument at his place, and you blocked his number, leaving him unable to contact you.
As you make your way through the paddock, your arms full of printouts and your mind racing with tire degradation calculations, you spot a familiar figure approaching. Lando, clad in his McLaren team shirt, is walking purposefully in your direction. Your heart rate spikes, and you quickly duck into a nearby hospitality area, pretending to be engrossed in conversation with a group of engineers.
This dance continues throughout the day. Lando tries to catch your eye during the team briefing, but you keep your gaze fixed on your tablet. He lingers near your station in the garage, but you find urgent errands that take you elsewhere. It's exhausting, this game of cat and mouse, but you're not ready to face him - not yet.
As the day winds down, you're making your final rounds, double-checking that everything is set for tomorrow's practice sessions. The paddock is quieter now, most team members having retired for the evening.
You're so focused on your checklist that you don't notice the approaching footsteps until it's too late.
"We need to talk," Lando's voice, firm and tinged with frustration, breaks the silence.
You spin around and Lando stands before you, his blue eyes intense and determined. He's changed out of his team shirt into a simple t-shirt and jeans, his hair slightly tousled as if he's been running his hands through it.
"Lando, I-" you begin, but he cuts you off.
"No, don't give me another excuse," he says, stepping closer. "We've been dancing around each other all day. Enough is enough."
Before you can protest, he gently but firmly takes your arm and starts guiding you towards the McLaren motorhome. You could resist, but something in his tone, a note of desperation perhaps, makes you comply.
The motorhome is quiet and dimly lit as Lando leads you inside and up to the second level where the drivers have their private areas. He ushers you into his room, closing the door behind you.
The space is unmistakably Lando's - a gaming setup in one corner, a few personal photos tacked to a board, his race suit hanging neatly on a hook. The familiarity of it all makes your heart ache.
Lando runs a hand through his hair, pacing for a moment before turning to face you.
"I'm sorry," he blurts out, the words tumbling from his lips as if he's afraid he'll lose his nerve if he doesn't say them immediately. "I'm so sorry for how I acted, for what I said. It was awful, and you didn't deserve any of it."
You stand there, arms crossed, trying to maintain your composure even as a lot of emotions overwhelm you. "You were an asshole, Lando," you say quietly.
"I know," he nods, "I was angry and frustrated, but that's no excuse. I took it out on you when you were just trying to help." He takes a step closer, his eyes pleading. "I've been miserable this past week. I missed you so much, and the thought that I might have ruined everything between us… it's been killing me."
Despite your best efforts to stay strong, you feel your resolve weakening. You're weak when it comes to him, and you're pretty sure he knows it.
"I missed you too," you admit softly. "But Lando, we can't keep doing this. We can't just pretend everything's fine and then lash out at each other when things get tough."
"I know, I know," Lando nods eagerly. "I want to do better. I want to be better," he pauses for a moment, his gaze dropping to the floor before meeting your eyes again. "And I didn't go home with anyone that night, by the way,"
You furrow your brow, momentarily confused by the seemingly random statement. Then, like a flash, you remember his cruel words from that night in his house.
As you laid in bed the night of the argument, you couldn't help but wonder if Lando had gone home with someone else, and if that was how it worked when you were not there.
And it hurt more that you ever thought possible.
"Oh," you respond, aiming for nonchalance but not quite hitting the mark. "That's… I mean, you didn't have to tell me that. It's not like we're…"
You trail off, unsure how to finish that sentence. What are you, exactly?
Lando takes a step closer, his blue eyes intense as they lock with yours. "I know I don't have to tell you," he says, his voice low and earnest. "But I want you to know. I only want you to keep me company, not anyone else."
Your heart skips a beat at his words, a warmth spreading through your chest. But almost immediately, a more cynical part of your mind chimes in. He wants you, but he doesn't want to be in a relationship with you. He wants the comfort, the intimacy, but not the commitment.
"Lando, I…" you begin, but the words catch in your throat. You want to ask for clarification, to define what this is between you, but fear holds you back.
Lando seems to sense your inner turmoil. He reaches out, gently taking your hand in his. "I know I messed up," he says softly. "And I know things between us are… complicated. But I mean what I said. You're the only one I want."
You look down at your joined hands, then back up at Lando's face. Despite despite the voice in your head warning you to be careful, you feel yourself giving in. The pull is too strong, the desire to be with him overpowering your rational mind.
"Okay," you whisper, squeezing his hand.
Lando's face breaks into a relieved smile, his eyes lighting up. He pulls you into another embrace, holding you close. You allow yourself to sink into his warmth, pushing your doubts to the back of your mind for now.
When you finally pull apart, Lando's expression is soft, almost reverent. "Are we good?" he asks, a hint of uncertainty in his voice.
You take a deep breath, considering the question. Are you good? There's still so much left unsaid, so many questions unanswered. But looking at Lando, feeling the comfort of his presence, you can't bring yourself to disrupt this moment of peace between you.
"Yes," you say, managing a small smile. "We're good."
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The early morning sunlight filters through the curtains of Lando's Monaco apartment. You stir slowly, consciousness creeping in as you become aware of the warm body next to you. Opening your eyes, you're greeted by the sight of Lando's peaceful sleeping face, his features relaxed and vulnerable in a way they rarely are when he's awake.
It's been two weeks since your conversation in the motorhome at Spa, and true to form, you and Lando had fallen back into your familiar rhythm without missing a beat. The race weekend had gone well, with both McLarens finishing in the points, and you'd flown to Monaco with Lando for the first part of the summer break without a second thought.
As you watch Lando sleep, you can't help but feel that being here with him feels right in a way that's hard to describe. You know that this thing between you, whatever it is, is a ticking time bomb if you don't define it soon. But every time you think about approaching the subject, fear holds you back.
So you've chosen to ignore it, to live in this blissful bubble for as long as you can. You tell yourself that you'll deal with it later, after the summer break, after the next race, after the season ends. There's always a reason to put it off.
Lando begins to stir, his eyelids fluttering open. When his gaze focuses on you, a slow, sleepy smile spreads across his face. "Morning, beautiful," he murmurs, his voice husky with sleep.
"Morning," you reply softly, unable to help the smile that mirrors his.
Lando reaches out, his hand cupping your cheek as he leans in for a kiss. It starts soft and sweet, but quickly deepens as he pulls you closer. His other hand trails down your side, leaving goosebumps in its wake. You sigh into the kiss, your own hands exploring the familiar planes of his chest and back.
As things start to heat up, Lando rolls you onto your back, hovering over you. His lips leave yours to trail kisses along your jaw and down your neck. You arch into him, your fingers tangling in his hair.
Just as things are about to progress further, there's a sharp knock at the front door.
"Ignore it," Lando whispers, leaning in to capture your lips again.
You lose yourself in the kiss for a moment before another, more insistent knock breaks through. Lando groans in frustration, dropping his forehead to your shoulder.
"I should probably see who that is," he sighs, reluctantly pulling away.
You watch as he gets out of bed, admiring the view as he pulls on a pair of sweatpants before heading downstairs.
Curious about who could be visiting so early, you decide to follow after a few minutes. You grab Lando's discarded t-shirt from the night before, pulling it on. It falls to mid-thigh, long enough to be decent for a quick peek downstairs.
As you descend the stairs, you hear familiar voices from the entryway. Your heart drops as you recognize the second voice - it's Max Verstappen. Panic sets in as you realize the compromising position you're in, but it's too late. You've already rounded the corner, coming face to face with both drivers.
For a moment, everything freezes. You stand there, a deer caught in headlights, wearing nothing but Lando's shirt. Max's eyes widen in surprise, darting between you and Lando. Lando looks equally shocked, clearly not expecting you to come downstairs.
Mortified, you turn on your heel and bolt back upstairs, your cheeks burning with embarrassment. As you retreat, you hear Max's voice, tinged with amusement and surprise.
"Dude, isn't that one of your strategists?"
You don't hear Lando's response as you shut the bedroom door behind you. This is exactly the kind of situation you'd been afraid of, the reason why leaving things undefined was so dangerous.
Downstairs, the conversation continues.
"Yeah, she is," Lando admits, running a hand through his hair nervously.
"Wow, okay," Max lets out a low whistle, "So… how long has this been going on? Please tell me it's recent and not, like, during the season or something."
Lando hesitates for a moment before answering. "It's… been a while actually. Over a year."
"A YEAR?!" Max exclaims, his voice rising in disbelief. "Lando, mate, are you serious? You've been hooking up with a team member for over a year and nobody knew?"
"It's not just hooking up," Lando defends, though his voice lacks conviction. "It's… complicated."
"Complicated?" Max raises an eyebrow, "Sounds like a disaster waiting to happen if you ask me. Does the team know?"
"No," Lando shakes his head, "And I'd appreciate it if you didn't say anything. It's not affecting our work, so no one needs to know."
"Hey, not my circus, not my monkeys," Max holds up his hands in surrender, "But seriously, Lando, be careful. This kind of thing can blow up in your face if you're not careful."
They exchange a few more words before Max takes his leave, reminding Lando about their plans for later in the week. As soon as the door closes behind Max, Lando bounds up the stairs, taking them two at a time.
He finds you in the bedroom, already dressed in own clothes. You're pacing nervously, chewing on your bottom lip - a habit he knows you fall into when you're anxious.
"Hey," he says softly, approaching you cautiously. "I'm sorry about that. I didn't expect Max to show up unannounced."
You stop pacing, turning to face him. "It's fine," you say, but your voice is tight. "I should go."
"What? No, please don't go," Lando's face falls, "Max won't say anything, I promise. He may be a bit of a prat sometimes, but he can keep a secret."
"I'll just have a walk around the harbor, I'll be back," you say as you grab your phone from the nightstand.
"But why?" Lando asks, a note of panic creeping into his voice. "Is this because Max saw you? I swear, it's not a big deal."
"I'll meet you for lunch, okay? you say softly, avoiding Lando's gaze.
"Okay," he replies simply, not pushing for more.
Without further conversation, you gather your belongings and head for the door. Feeling more conflicted than ever before.
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After Max caught you together in Monaco, you stayed a few more days with Lando before reluctantly going back home, and he took on a trip with his family. You don't really see him for the rest of the summer break, until he showed up at your place two weeks before it was time to get back to work.
"So," Lando says as you laid in bed, "ready to go back to being all professional and proper soon, Ms. Strategist?"
"Oh, I'm always professional, Norris. It's you who can't keep your eyes off me during briefings."
"Me? Lando gasps in mock offense, "I'll have you know I'm the picture of focus and concentration."
"Sure," you drawl, "That's why you kept 'accidentally' brushing against me in the garage."
He leans in closer, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. "Can you blame me? You're irresistible when you're talking about tire strategies."
You laugh, pushing him away playfully, trying to ignore the flutter in your stomach at his proximity. "Smooth talker. Is that how you charm all the girls?"
"Nah," he grins, pulling you back towards him. "Just the brilliant, beautiful ones who can calculate pit stop windows in their sleep."
Your breath catches as he nuzzles your neck, his stubble tickling your skin. For a moment, you consider bringing up the conversation you've been avoiding all summer. "Lando," you murmur, "we should probably talk about-"
He silences you with a kiss, deep and passionate. "Or," he says, his eyes dark with desire, "we could make the most of our night."
You know you should resist, that you should have that conversation you've been avoiding. But as Lando's hands start to wander, you find your resolve weakening, as always.
You don't really hear from Lando after that night. He says goodbye after breakfast the following day, and then it's radio silence.
You try not to think too much of it, the break is coming to an end and he has responsibilities and work to go, it's not personal, you try to convince yourself.
But your mind can't help but wander. Is he with someone else? Is he avoiding you? Did you make him upset and you failed to notice?
But you don't dare to bring it up to him. He's not your boyfriend, after all.
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The transition back to work after the summer break is jarring. The McLaren Technology Centre buzzes with activity as everyone prepares for the upcoming race. You're immediately swept up in meetings, data analysis, and strategy sessions. Despite working in the same building, you and Lando barely cross paths for days. The few times you do see him from afar, he's always surrounded by engineers or caught up in simulator work.
Finally, the team arrives at Zandvoort Circuit for the Dutch Grand Prix. The atmosphere of the paddock envelops you as you make your way to the McLaren garage, your arms full of strategy documents and your mind racing with last-minute considerations for the race.
As you approach, you spot Lando and Oscar chatting animatedly near the entrance. Your heart does a little flip at the sight of Lando, and you can't help but smile. You've missed him more than you care to admit.
"Morning, boys," you call out, aiming for a casual tone as you near them.
They both turn, matching grins spreading across their faces. "Hey there, stranger," Lando says, his eyes twinkling with that familiar mischief that never fails to make your stomach flutter.
Oscar, ever the gentleman, moves to take some of the papers from your arms. "Let me help you with those. How was your break?"
You smile gratefully, handing him a stack of documents. "Thanks, Oscar. It was lovely, very relaxing. How about yours?"
As Oscar launches into a story about his time back home in Australia and his trip with his girlfriend, you can't help but steal glances at Lando.
He looks good - tanned and relaxed, with a hint of stubble that you know from experience feels delightfully rough against your skin. You quickly push that thought aside, reminding yourself of where you are.
"Oh, that reminds me," Oscar says suddenly, turning to Lando with a sly grin. "How did that lunch go the other day? With Emma?"
You feel your body tense involuntarily. Lunch? Emma? Who's Emma?
Lando's eyes widen slightly, and he shoots a quick glance your way before looking back at Oscar. "Oh, uh, it was fine. Just a casual thing, you know."
But Oscar, oblivious to the sudden tension, presses on. "Come on, mate, don't be modest. Emma told Lily it went really well. Said you two really hit it off."
You feel as if all the air has been sucked out of your lungs. The documents in your arms suddenly feel impossibly heavy.
Lando runs a hand through his hair, a nervous habit you've come to recognize. "It wasn't… I mean, it was just lunch, Oscar. Don't make a big deal out of it."
"I'm just saying," Oscar continues, still grinning, "she seems really into you. Might be worth giving it a shot, yeah? It's about time you settled down with someone nice."
You can't bear to hear any more. "I should get these to the engineers," you mutter, already turning away. "See you guys later."
As you walk away, you hear Lando call out your name, but you don't stop. You can't stop. If you stop, you might fall apart right there in the middle of the paddock.
You make it to the back of the garage before you hear rapid footsteps behind you. "Hey, wait up," Lando's voice comes from behind you, slightly out of breath.
You turn slowly, trying to school your features into a neutral expression. "What is it, Lando? I'm kind of busy."
He looks at you, his eyes searching your face. "About what Oscar said… it's not what you think."
"What do I think, Lando?" you raise an eyebrow, fighting to keep your voice steady. "We never defined what this is, remember? You're free to have lunch with whoever you want."
"It was just a favor for Oscar," Lando steps closer, lowering his voice. "His girlfriend's friend is new in town, and they asked if I'd show her around. That's all it was, I swear."
You want to believe him. God, how you want to believe him. But the memory of those blissful days during the summer break, followed by days of silence and now this… it's too much.
"Look, Lando," you say, hating how your voice wavers slightly, "we both knew this couldn't last. We have jobs to do, careers to think about. Maybe… maybe this is for the best."
"What? No, that's not…" Lando starts, reaching for your arm, but you step back.
"I really need to get these to the engineers," you say, gesturing with the documents still clutched to your chest like a shield. "We should both focus on the race this weekend. That's what we're here for, right?"
Without waiting for a response, you turn and walk away, your vision blurring slightly as you blink back tears. You can feel Lando's gaze boring into your back, but you don't turn around. You can't.
As you round the corner, out of sight from the main garage, you lean against the wall for a moment, taking deep breaths to compose yourself. The rational part of your brain knows you're overreacting, that you should hear Lando out. But the emotional part, the part that's been dreading this moment since this situationship began, is in full fight or flight mode.
With one final deep breath, you push off the wall and head towards the engineering room, burying your personal turmoil beneath layers of race strategy and tire calculations. Lando Norris was consuming every part of you.
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The tension between you and Lando remains palpable throughout the race weekend. You both maintain focused on your jobs, but there's a hint that something is not right with you.
The truth is, your situation with Lando has been consuming you for weeks now. What started as a casual arrangement has grown into something much deeper, at least for you.
The more time you spend with Lando, the harder you fall for him. And it's terrifying. Being casual isn't enough anymore; it hasn't been for a while. You've reached a point where you don't think you can continue this way. The pain of loving him in secret, of always being on the edge of something more but never quite reaching it, is becoming unbearable. You need clarity, commitment - or you need to walk away before you lose yourself completely.
To make matters more complicated, Lando wins the race at Zandvoort, securing his second victory of the season—one he had been craving since Miami. Your heart breaks even more as you realize you can't even celebrate this moment with him properly. Watching him on the podium, champagne in hand and pure joy radiating from his face, you feel like crying right there.
You want to run to him, throw yourself into his arms and celebrate with him, tell him how proud you feel and how much he deserves this. But you can't, not until whatever is going on between you gets sorted out.
It's not until after the race, when the celebrations cool down and the team begins to pack up, that Lando finally corners you in a quiet moment.
"Can we talk?" he asks, his voice low and urgent. "Please?"
You hesitate, glancing around the garage. Most of the team is busy with post-race duties, paying you no attention. With a sigh, you nod and follow Lando to a more secluded area behind the motorhome.
"First of all, congratulations on the win. You really deserve it," you say as soon as you're alone, trying to keep your voice steady.
Lando gives you a bittersweet smile. "Thanks, but that's not what occupies my mind right now," he replies, his eyes searching yours with an intensity that makes your heart race, "I don't understand what happened back there. Why won't you believe me about Oscar's friend?"
You cross your arms, a defensive posture you're all too aware of. "It's not just about her, Lando. It's… everything."
"What do you mean, everything?" he asks, brow furrowed.
"I mean this whole situation," you take a deep breath, trying to organize your thoughts, "I thought I could handle it, but…"
"But what?" Lando steps closer, his voice softening, "Talk to me, please."
"But it's getting harder," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. "Every time I see you with someone else, every time we have to pretend there's nothing between us, it hurts a little more."
Lando reaches for your hand, and this time you don't pull away. "You're the only one I want," he says earnestly. "You have to know that."
You let out a humorless laugh, shaking your head. "You always say that, Lando. But you still won't fully commit to me. It's hard to believe it when you won't put a label on us, when you go out with other women-"
"That wasn't a date," Lando interrupts, a hint of frustration creeping into his voice. "I told you, it was just a favor for Oscar."
"I know, I know," you say, pulling your hand away and running it through your hair. "But that's not the point. The point is, I don't know where I stand with you. We've been doing this dance for over a year now, and I still don't know what we are to each other."
"I thought you were okay with this. With us staying without a label. You agreed to keep things casual."
"I was okay with it," you turn away, blinking back tears. "But it's not enough anymore. At least, not for me."
There's a long moment of silence. When you turn back, Lando is staring at the ground, his hands shoved deep in his pockets.
"What are you saying?" he asks finally, his voice small.
"I'm saying that I can't do this anymore, Lando," you say firmly, "I want more. I need more."
"We agreed it was too complicted," Lando looks up at you, his eyes wide and vulnerable, "That we couldn't be in a relationship."
"I know what we agreed," you say, your voice cracking slightly. "But feelings change. People change. I've changed, Lando. And I can't keep putting my heart on hold for a someday that might never come."
Lando steps forward, reaching for you again. "Please, don't do this. We can figure it out. I'll try to be more open about us. We can tell our friends."
You shake your head, cutting him off. "It's not just about telling people, Lando. It's about commitment. It's about knowing that when I go home at night, I'm not just someone in your bed. It's about building a future together, not just living for the moment."
"I don't know if I can give you that. Not right now," Lando's face falls. "My career is at a great point, and-"
"And mine isn't?" you interrupt, a flash of anger cutting through your sadness. "Do you think I'm not risking just as much as you are? If not more? But I'm willing to take that risk because what we have… what we could have… it's worth it to me."
You watch as emotions play across Lando's face - confusion, fear, longing. Finally, he speaks, his voice barely audible. "I don't want to lose you."
Your heart aches, but you stand your ground. "Then give me a reason to stay, Lando. Show me that I'm more than just a convenient distraction between races."
Lando opens his mouth to respond, but you hold up a hand to stop him. "Don't answer now. Think about it. Really think about what you want. Because I can't keep going on like this. It's not fair to either of us."
With that, you turn and walk away, leaving Lando standing alone behind the motorhome. As you make your way back to the garage, you can feel the weight of unshed tears burning behind your eyes. But you don't let them fall. Not here, not now.
You've laid your cards on the table. Now it's up to Lando to decide what he's willing to do with them.
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The Monza race weekend flies by in a whirlwind of noise and action. You keep yourself busy, diving deep into numbers and race plans to avoid thinking about your feelings. It's easier to focus on tire strategies and pit stop timings than to deal with the ache in your chest every time you see Lando.
When you do have to talk to Lando, you both act normal and professional. But there's a tension in the air between you, like a tight rubber band ready to snap. You catch others giving you worried looks sometimes, and it makes you feel even more on edge.
Lando has not given you any kind of response to your talk in Zandvoort, and it's been just a week, but you feel like you know his answer. He's not willing to give you what you ask for. And it hurts, more than you can say.
As Sunday night gets closer, whispers of Carlos Sainz's birthday celebration begin to circulate through the paddock. You know Lando will definitely go - he and Carlos are really close friends. A small part of you wishes you could go too. You imagine laughing with your coworkers, having a drink, and forgetting about all the drama for a while.
But then you think about seeing Lando there. You picture having to smile and act like everything's fine when it's not. The thought of making awkward small talk with him, or worse, seeing him chatting happily with someone else, makes your stomach churn. It feels like too much to handle right now.
In the end, the thought of facing Lando and all those people is just too much. You decide to skip the party, even though a part of you feels guilty and a bit left out. But the relief you feel at making this decision tells you it's the right choice for now.
As the sun begins to set after the race and everyone gets ready for the party, you retreat to your hotel room. You order room service – a plate of pasta that you barely touch – and settle in for a quiet evening alone. You try to lose yourself in a book, but the words blur on the page, your mind constantly wandering to thoughts of Lando. Is he at the party now? Is he having fun? Is he thinking of you at all?
Meanwhile, at Carlos' birthday celebration, Lando finds himself struggling to enjoy the party. He mingles half-heartedly, his laugh a beat too late, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. He can't help but scan the room periodically, hoping against hope that you might have changed your mind and decided to come.
Max, observant as ever and knowing his friend too well, notices Lando's distraction and pulls him aside.
"You alright, mate?" Max asks, "You look like you'd rather be anywhere but here."
Lando sighs, running a hand through his hair. "Is it that obvious?"
Max nods, taking a sip of his drink. "Want to talk about it?"
For a moment, Lando considers brushing it off, but the weight of the past week suddenly feels too heavy to bear alone. "It's about her," he admits quietly.
Max doesn't need to ask who 'her' is. By now he knows the situation his friend is caught up in, "Trouble in paradise?" he asks.
"More like paradise lost," Lando lets out a humorless laugh, "I think I really messed up, Max. I was so worried about keeping things casual, about not complicating our working relationship, that I didn't realize how fucked up the whole thing was."
"So what are you going to do about it?" Max asks.
Lando looks around the room, at the laughing faces and clinking glasses, and suddenly feels very out of place. "I don't know. I just know I can't be here right now. Not when things are like this between us."
"Then go," he says simply. "Go find her. Talk to her. Life's too short for regrets, especially in our line of work."
Lando looks at Max, a hint of his usual playful smile returning despite the situation. "When did you become so wise, Verstappen? Did all those championship trophies finally knock some sense into you?"
"Someone has to be the voice of reason around here," Max rolls his eyes, but there's a fond smile on his face, "Now go on, get out of here before Carlos finds you and makes you stay, I'll distract him."
"Thanks, Max. I owe you one," Lando chuckles, patting his back.
"You owe me several, but who's counting?" Max grins, clapping Lando on the shoulder. "Now go get your girl."
With a newfound sense of purpose, Lando slips out of the party. His heart pounds as he makes his way to your hotel, not even sure if you would want to talk to him.
When he's finally standing in front of you door, he knocks softly, hope and fear warring in his chest as he waits for you to answer.
You're curled up on the bed, still trying and failing to focus on your book, when you hear the knock. Confused, you glance at the clock - it's barely past 10 PM. The party should still be in full swing. Who could be at your door?
As you pad over to the door and peer through the peephole, your breath catches in your throat. It's Lando, looking slightly disheveled, his hands shoved deep in his pockets.
You hesitate, your hand on the doorknob. Part of you wants to fling the door open and throw yourself into his arms. But another part, the part that's been hurt and confused for the past week, holds you back.
Taking a deep breath to steady yourself, you slowly open the door, trying to keep your expression neutral despite the emotions inside you.
"Lando?" you say, trying to sound calm even though your heart is racing. "What are you doing here? I thought you'd be at Carlos' party."
Lando looks a bit messy, like he rushed over. He shifts from foot to foot, looking nervous. "I was," he says. "But I couldn't stay. Not when you weren't there."
You lean against the doorframe, crossing your arms. You're trying to protect yourself, even though you want to believe him. "You left your best friend's birthday party early because of me?"
Lando nods, looking right at you. His eyes are so intense it makes your heart beat even faster. "Can I come in? I think we need to talk."
You hesitate for a moment. You're scared of getting hurt again, but you also really want to hear what he has to say, even if it breaks your heart. Finally, you step back and let him in.
As he passes by, you catch a whiff of his cologne mixed with the faint scent of the paddock - a combination that's uniquely Lando and achingly familiar.
Lando walks into the room, running a hand through his hair. "I've been doing a lot of thinking this past week," he begins, turning to face you. "About us."
Your heart starts to race, but you force yourself to remain calm. "And?" you prompt, when he doesn't continue.
"And you were right. About everything," Lando takes a deep breath, "I've been so focused on not complicating things, that I didn't realize how much I was hurting you.”
"Lando, I-"
"Please, let me finish," Lando interrupts you softly, "The truth is, I've been scared. Terrified, actually. Of commitment, of letting someone in completely, of potentially damaging our careers if things went wrong. But this past week without you… it's been hell", he takes a step closer to you, his voice dropping to a near whisper. "I've dated before, had relationships, but nothing has ever felt like this. What we have… it's different. Special. And I've been an idiot for not seeing it sooner."
Your breath catches in your throat as Lando continues, his words coming faster now, as if he's afraid he'll lose his nerve if he doesn't get them all out. "I kept telling myself that keeping things casual was the smart thing to do. That it was protecting both of us. But all I've done is push you away and make you doubt how much you mean to me."
He runs a hand through his hair, a gesture you've seen him do countless times when he's nervous or frustrated. "The truth is, I'm crazy about you. I think about you all the time. When something good happens, you're the first person I want to tell. When something goes wrong, you're the one I want to turn to. And it scares the hell out of me because I've never felt this way about anyone before."
Your heart is pounding so hard you're sure Lando must be able to hear it. You want to speak, to tell him how much his words mean to you, but you can see he's not finished yet.
"I know I've messed up. I know I've hurt you by not being clear about my feelings, by not giving you the commitment you deserve. And I'm so, so sorry for that," Lando's voice cracks slightly, and you can see the sincerity in his eyes. "But if you're willing to give me another chance, I want to do this right. No more hiding, no more pretending we're just casual. I want to be with you, properly. I want to tell our friends, take you on proper dates. I want everything."
He takes another step closer, close enough now that you can feel the warmth radiating from his body. "I can't promise it'll be easy. Our careers, the media attention, the travel - it's all going to be complicated. But I'm willing to fight for this, for us, if you are."
You stand there, momentarily stunned by Lando's words. Your mind is racing, trying to process everything he's just said. You've dreamed of hearing something like this from him for so long, but now that it's happening, you find yourself almost paralyzed.
Taking a shaky breath, you finally find your voice. "Lando, I… I don't know what to say. This is everything I've wanted to hear from you, but I'm scared too. What if we try this and it doesn't work out? What if we end up ruining our friendship, our work relationship?"
Lando's hand finally makes contact with your cheek, his touch impossibly gentle. "Those are all valid fears," he says softly. "And I'd be lying if I said I wasn't worried about the same things. But I think what we have is worth the risk. Don't you?"
You lean into his touch, your eyes closing for a moment as you savor the feeling. When you open them again, you see Lando looking at you with such tenderness it makes your heart ache.
"I do," you whisper. "I really do. But Lando, I need you to be sure, if we do this, I need all of you. No more half measures, no more hiding."
Lando nods, his thumb gently caressing your cheek. "I'm sure. I want all of you, and I want to give you all of me in return."
The sincerity in his voice, the look in his eyes - it's everything you've been longing for. Unable to resist any longer, you close the distance between you and press your lips to Lando's. The kiss is soft at first, tentative, as if you're both afraid this moment might shatter. But then Lando's arms wrap around you, pulling you closer, and the kiss deepens.
It's not your first kiss, not by a long shot, but it feels different this time. There's a promise in this kiss, a commitment that wasn't there before.
You pour all your pent-up emotions - the longing, the frustration, the love you've been holding back. Lando responds with equal passion, one hand tangling in your hair while the other presses against the small of your back.
When you finally break apart, Lando rests his forehead against yours, a smile playing on his lips.
"I've missed you so much," he murmurs. The relief and happiness that flood Lando's face are beautiful to see.
"I've missed you too," you admit. "More than I wanted to admit, even to myself."
Lando's hands start to wander, tracing patterns on your back that make you shiver, you melt at his touch, but then your mind starts racing again.
"Where do we go from here, Lan?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.
Lando takes a moment to consider your question, his hands still gently caressing your back. He pulls back slightly to look into your eyes, his expression a mix of tenderness and determination.
"Well," he starts, a small smile playing on his lips, "I think we take it one step at a time. We don't need to rush anything, but we also don't need to hide anymore."
You nod, encouraging him to continue.
"First things first," Lando says, his voice growing more confident, "I want to take you on a proper date. No sneaking around, no pretending we're just colleagues grabbing a quick bite. I want to take you somewhere nice, hold your hand in public, and not care who sees us."
The thought makes your heart flutter. "I'd like that," you reply softly.
You wrap your arms around him, feeling a sense of peace settle over you. For the first time in a long while, you feel truly happy and hopeful about the future.
"So," Lando says after a moment, a hint of mischief in his voice, "since I left Carlos' party early to come here... does that mean I get to stay the night?"
You laugh, playfully swatting his arm. "Cheeky," you tease, but there's no real accusation in your voice. Instead, you lean in and kiss him.
As the kiss intensifies, you both start moving towards the bed, hands roaming and clothes starting to come off. This time, there's no holding back, no pretending this is just a casual thing. Every touch, every kiss is infused with the promise of something lasting.
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Two weeks later, you're in Baku for the Azerbaijan Grand Prix.
You're in the McLaren garage, eyes fixed on your tablet as you analyze the latest telemetry data. The familiar sounds of mechanics working and engineers discussing strategy fill the air, but you're completely focused on your task.
Suddenly, you sense a pair of eyes on you. Without turning, a smile tugs at your lips. You know exactly who it is.
"See something you like?" you ask playfully, still not looking up from your work.
You hear a low chuckle, then feel a warm presence behind you. "Just admiring my girlfriend," Lando's voice is soft, meant only for your ears.
He wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you gently against him. His lips brush your shoulder in a tender kiss that sends a shiver down your spine.
The past fortnight has been a whirlwind of emotions and adjustments. True to his word, Lando has taken you on proper dates and you've made your relationship official. You still feel giddy every time Lando calls you his girlfriend, a fact that hasn't escaped his notice. He seems to take particular joy in introducing you as such, his eyes always seeking out your reaction.
"How's the data looking?" he says, giving you a quick squeeze.
"Pretty good, actually," you turn back to your tablet, but remain in his loose embrace. "Your last practice session showed some promising improvements in sector two."
"That's my girl," Lando murmurs, pride evident in his voice. "Always making me look good."
You chuckle, elbowing him gently. "You do that all on your own, superstar. I just provide the numbers."
You turn in Lando's arms, facing him with a soft smile. The garage bustles around you, but in this moment, it feels like you're in your own little bubble.
"You know," you say, your voice low, "I never thought I'd be standing here like this with you. In the middle of the garage, no less."
Lando's eyes crinkle as he grins, his hands resting comfortably on your waist. "Having second thoughts?" he teases.
"Not at all," you shake your head, your smile widening. "It's just different. Good different."
"The best kind of different," Lando agrees, echoing his words from that night in your hotel room.
"I should probably get back to work," you say reluctantly, not making any move to step away.
Lando nods, but doesn't loosen his hold on you. "Probably," he agrees, a mischievous glint in his eye. "But first…"
He leans in, pressing a quick but tender kiss to your lips. It's brief, mindful of your surroundings, but filled with promise.
As he pulls back, you can't help but laugh softly. "You're incorrigible, you know that?"
"You love it," Lando grins, finally releasing you from his embrace.
"I do," you admit, your heart full. "Now go on, superstar. You've got a car to drive soon."
As you watch him blow you a kiss which made you throw your head back in laughter as he left, your heart feels full.
You and Lando. Lando and You. Finally, together.
2K notes · View notes
smileysuh · 1 year ago
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creep
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🌙 staring. Mingyu x afab!Reader
🔮 preview. “If the roles were reversed - if you were a ghost bound to this apartment forever - you’re saying you wouldn’t watch me get naked every day?” He’s definitely got a point. As your eyes skim Mingyu's perfect form again, that tingle returns between your legs. There’s no reason for him to be as sexy as he is- murders aren’t the only shocking thing this man has under his belt and you can see that now. 
tw/cw. dark content warning, serial killer Mingyu, mention of suicide, touch starved mingyu, switch mingyu, pussy eating, pussy worship, blow job, hand job, fingering, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, big dick mingyu, pussy stretching, extreme voyeurism, mentions of non-consensual voyeurism, dirty talk, praise, choking, manhandling, etc… I pet names: (hers) princess. (his) good boy.
👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 9.1k
🍭 aus. Halloween, ghost!mingyu, serial killer!mingyu, etc…
☀️ mlist + an. I really can't explain this one other than saying I tried to make Mingyu redeemable by saying he only killed bad men 👀
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Out of all the guy friends you have over, Jeonghan is Mingyu’s favorite. He’s always up to no good, talking shit that Mingyu can listen to for hours, and tonight, he’s brought a Ouija Board, which has spiked Mingyu’s curiosity. 
“Come on, it will be fun,” Jeonghan insists. “I’ve been wanting to do a seance in your apartment since you moved in three months ago.”
You’re not as impressed as Mingyu is about the idea, and neither are your other friends.
“I just don’t think it’s a good idea,” Seungkwan says for the fifth time since the rag-tag group of friends entered your home. “We said we’d come back here between Halloween parties and drink, we never said anything about contacting the dude that killed himself here.”
Mingyu remembers the day you visited the apartment for the first time, the way the realtor had downplayed what happened here. Times are tough, and the price reduction had enticed you, despite Mingyu’s tragic history. 
“Come on, don’t you guys wanna ask why he did it?” Jeonghan presses.
“He did it because he was a top suspect in a string of murder cases,” Seungkwan fires back. “Case closed.”
Jeonghan scoffs loudly. “But what if he didn’t do it? What if the real serial killer came here, killed him, and made it look like a suicide-”
“Hannie,” you interrupt with a sigh, “what’s with you and your infatuation with murderers?”
“Me?!” Jeonghan’s eyes widen. “Who’s the one who watches all my slasher films with me? Don’t pretend you're innocent here, we all know you have a thing for bad boys.”
Mingyu’s noticed your love for dangerous men, you’ve had your share of bad dudes over to this very apartment much to his annoyance. On the flip side, Mingyu does enjoy a good horror movie night, and you provide more than enough of those, especially this past month.
“We’re doing this,” Jeonghan insists, pulling the board out and setting it on the coffee table. “It’s Halloween. If there’s ever a night for this ghost to talk with us, it’s now.”
Seungkwan only groans, taking another shot while Seokmin and Soonyoung exchange worried glances.
“You don’t think the ghost is going to actually like… talk with us, do you?” the man in the tiger onesie asks, playing with his tail nervously. 
“Well, the veil is thinnest on Halloween… I guess there’s only one way to find out,” Jeonghan grins devilishly. 
Five minutes later, candles are set up and Seokmin is sheepishly turning off the lights before joining everyone by the board. 
Mingyu holds back, watching with interest.
“How do we start?” you ask.
“Imma rizz this ghost,” Jeonghan explains, looking around the room. “Is there a presence here with us?”
In the silence, Mingyu can hear an ambulance a few blocks away. He crosses his arms over his chest, watching.
“Don’t we have to touch the Ouija thing?” Seungkwan asks.
“Right.” Jeonghan reaches out only to have his hand slapped away by his friend.
“Not you,” Seungkwan rolls his eyes. “You’ll rig it.”
Jeonghan sighs. “Fine, I’ll ask the questions, you all touch the planchette.”
It’s almost laughable how reluctant Seokmin is to touch the board, but soon, there are four sets of hands on it while Jeonghan addresses the room again. 
“Come on ghost,” he pleads, “don’t make me look bad, come say hi. If there’s a spirit with us, please move the planchette and tell us.”
Mingyu figures now is as good a time as any to communicate, God knows he’s waited years. With a sigh, Mingyu approaches the board. He crouches down next to you, reaching out. His fingers slip right through the planchette, but when he touches Seokmin, the man shivers.
“You okay?” you ask, looking at your friend.
“It just got really cold,” Seokmin breathes, already turning pale.
Mingyu tries again, this time aiming for Seokmin’s hands. The ghost focuses hard, willing the planchette to move, willing Seokmin’s hands to become his own. 
The small tool begins to shift on the board. 
“Soonyoung, cut it out,” Seungkwan snaps.
“It’s not me!” the tiger insists.
Little by little, the planchette shifts to Yes, and Mingyu lets out a deep breath at the effort it had taken.
“So there is a spirit here with us?” Jeonghan clarifies.
Again, Mingyu moves the planchette, slightly off of Yes then back again, an affirmative.
“I knew it!” Jeonghan practically screams. “Are you the guy who died here?”
Another Yes, and Mingyu’s getting annoyed with the questions already.
“What’s your name?” you ask.
Mingyu’s a little surprised that you’re beginning a line of inquiry, but he’s pleased too. Using Seokmin’s hands, he begins to slowly reveal his name. With each letter, your group reads it out loud.
“M… I… N… G… Y… U… Mingyu?” 
God, Mingyu likes the sound of his name on your lips.
A shift to Yes has the whole room going quiet and Mingyu waits for the next question.
“Okay guys, seriously, who’s doing this?” Seungkwan asks, ever the non-believer. 
“It’s not me!” Seokmin insists, followed by Soonyoung, who even crosses his heart to prove his own innocence.
“Did you really kill those guys?” Jeonghan questions, drawing all eyes.
“You can’t just ask that!” You bat at your friend’s arm.
Mingyu considers his next action, but with a sigh, he reaches for Seokmin’s hands again, using him to push the planchette to Yes. In Mingyu’s eyes, all the men he’d killed deserved it. They’d been predators, and it takes one to know one. Mingyu had simply been the better predator.
“How many people did you kill?”
“Jeonghan,” you say again, harder this time.
“We’re fact-checking!” Jeonghan insists. “If he gives us the wrong number, then someone here is lying.”
Mingyu doesn’t like to be tested like this, but at the same time, he admires the man’s shiftyness. The ghost reaches through Seokmin, pushing the planchette to 5.
Seokmin lets out a gasp, tearing his hands away from the board and leaping to his feet. “Guys, I don’t feel good about this.”
“But it’s just started to get juicy!” Jeonghan tuts. 
“We’re not going to force Seokmin to do this if he doesn’t want to,” you sigh, also removing your hands. “I think this is enough for tonight.”
Jeonghan’s not so easily convinced. “But we just made contact!” 
“It’s almost midnight, I thought you wanted to be at the bar for eleven fifty so your bouncer friend would let you in,” you point out.
“Let me in…” Jeonghan raises a brow. “Aren’t you coming?”
“Honestly?” you sigh. “I’m getting a bit tired.”
“But it’s Halloween!”
“And we’ve already been to one party and just used a Ouija board,” you laugh. “I think I’ve had enough fun.”
“You’re boring!” Jeonghan groans. 
“And you’re crazy!” you retort, heading to turn on the lights. “Say goodbye to your ghost friend, take another shot, and get out of here so I can get some sleep.”
Mingyu likes it when you take charge like this. He stands from the table, coming to join you as you head to the kitchen to get your friends their last shots. He’s always liked sticking close to you, your second ghostly shadow. 
The last tenant had been a guy, and the view had never been very great, but with you around? Mingyu is constantly entertained, in the most perverted ways possible. He’s really enjoying the skimpy outfit you’re wearing, and he can’t wait to watch you take it off. Maybe you’ll have a shower once your friends are gone- you’ll make his night if you do.
“Goodbye,” Seungkwan says loudly, pushing the planchette to the word scrawled in big writing. Mingyu’s not so easily dismissed, but Seokmin lets out a breath of relief as the board is closed and packed up.
You all take one last shot, and Mingyu can practically taste the tequila on his tongue. It’s been forever since he had anything to drink, or eat, or fuck for that matter. 
He misses it every day. 
The ghost hangs back as you hug your friends goodbye, with Jeonghan trying for five minutes to convince you to join the last bar outing. You stay firm, and Mingyu grins to himself when you finally close the door, shutting you in together.
You busy yourself with cleaning up the kitchen, putting the shot glasses and bottles away, then, to Mingyu’s pleasure, you head toward the bathroom. He follows closely, slipping in behind you before you can close the door. As a ghost, Mingyu can walk through walls, but it’s an unpleasant experience, one he avoids when he can.
He watches you turn on the shower, facing the mirror to remove your false eyelashes. You’re so pretty, and when you begin to take off your outfit, Mingyu practically drools. He can stare at your naked body for hours and not get bored, in fact, he has. 
You step into the shower, closing the curtain. Your silhouette is still as beautiful as ever, and Mingyu can feel his cock getting hard as he watches you. Voyeurism is something he’s always enjoyed, even as a human, and now that he’s a ghost, it’s something that makes Mingyu’s undead life go round. 
He palms himself through his jeans, looking for relief but also not wanting to take things too far. Knowing you, he’ll probably get a free show if he waits long enough. Your sex drive rivals even his own, and Mingyu’s nothing if not a good boy who knows how to be patient. 
***
You get out of the shower feeling refreshed. Your blood is still buzzing slightly from the drinks you’ve had, but you feel clear-headed as you wipe the mirror, looking at yourself while you wrap a towel around your naked body.
Your phone dings and you look down at it, reading Jeonghan’s contact name. It’s a text to tell you that your friends have gotten to the bar, and another request for you to join. You can only laugh, setting your phone down just as the clock hits midnight.
There’s movement in the corner of your eye and you turn your head, locking eyes with a tall, dark-haired man standing by the door of your bathroom.
Your heart lurches in your chest, and you immediately grab the closest thing, a hairbrush, hurling it at the man. He doesn’t even try to dodge it, and it hits him square in the chest. His gaze dips down, and he looks completely shocked that you’ve just thrown something at him.
“Get out of my house!” you scream, reaching for the next item-
“Not your expensive moisturizer!” the man yells, holding up both hands and backing up. “How are you going to explain breaking that to Jeonghan?!”
You freeze a little at his words, thoroughly confused. “How- how do you know-” You look down at the bottle of moisturizer that Jeonghan had bought for you last month. “Did Jeonghan put you up to this?!”
“Put the bottle down,” the man says, still holding his hands defensively. 
“You’re some creep in my bathroom!” you retort. “You don’t get to tell me what to do!” You grab your phone next. “I’m calling 911.”
“God, please don’t,” he sighs.
“Start talking!” you insist.
“I’m not Jeonghan’s friend-”
“Then who the fuck are you, and how did you get into my apartment?!” You lift the moisturizer again, ready to throw it at his face.
“Mingyu!” he belts. “I’m Mingyu!”
“Jeonghan definitely put you up to this,” you declare, feeling something like relief. This is just some prank-
“I’m serious,” the handsome man tells you. “I’m Mingyu-”
“You expect me to believe that you’re the ghost of that serial killer who died here years ago?” you scoff.
“Yeah, it was me with the Ouija,” he tries to explain.
“Prove it,” you insist, still not believing him. 
“You want me to tell you something only a ghost would know?” he laughs. “How about this, I know you hide your sex toys in a box under your bed. I know the last few guys you’ve had over couldn’t make you cum so you’d finish yourself off with your vibrator once they left. I know you still say your first boyfriend’s name whenever you cum, for some stupid reason-”
Your heart is thundering in your chest. There’s no way he can know all of that- no one knows all of that-
Why is everything he’s saying sex related?
An unfamiliar feeling washes over your form. It’s something like fear, but there’s an underlying emotion there too- a tingle between your legs. Is this guy really a ghost? Is he your ghost? Has he been watching you since you moved in?!
“Believe me now?” Mingyu asks. He must have seen the way you’ve faltered, moisturizer bottle lowering to your side.
“How-” You swallow thickly. “How are you here?”
“That’s actually a good question,” Mingyu admits, looking down at his form. “This doesn’t usually happen.” 
“The veil is thinnest on Halloween,” you breathe, remembering what Jeonghan had said earlier. “It’s midnight…”
“Sounds right to me.” The ghost nods. 
“How… how long are you going to be visible for?” you ask, eyes dragging across his large body.
“I don’t know… but, when you threw that brush at me, it hit me.” Mingyu steps toward you and you move back, hitting the wall. “Don’t be scared, I just wanna touch you-”
“As if that makes me feel any better!” You’re frozen as his hand reaches out, fingers coming to gently brush your collarbone. You shiver at the cold contact.
“You.. you felt that!” Mingyu’s eyes widen with shock.
“Are you going to kill me?” you ask.
“What?!” He laughs, moving even closer.
“You’re a serial killer, aren’t you?” This is just your luck.
“I only killed men, guys who were predators.”
“Like you.”
“Like me,” he admits. “But… my brutality never came out toward women.”
The ghost has no right being this beautiful, and he’s saying the right things. You can’t believe you’re actually starting to relax a little. You’ve definitely seen too many horror films-
“You… you’ve been watching me,” you point out.
Your words seem to make him almost bashful, his gaze dipping to the floor. You see his skin flush a pinkish colour and it’s almost endearing. “Uh… yeah.”
“And you were in here while I was having a shower too… You are a bit of a creep, aren’t you?”
“Every other tenant here has been a guy!” Mingyu exclaims. “You’re the first one who’s actually caught my attention.”
“I feel like you’re just horny after years of being alone.”
“You would be too,” he insists. “If the roles were reversed - if you were a ghost bound to this apartment forever -  you’re saying you wouldn’t watch me get naked every day?” 
He’s definitely got a point. As your eyes skim Mingyu’s perfect form again, that tingle returns between your legs. There’s no reason for him to be as sexy as he is- murders aren’t the only shocking thing this man has under his belt and you can see that now. 
“Can I…” he swallows thickly. “Can I kiss you?”
You can’t believe you’re actually considering this.
“Come on, please?” Mingyu asks. “I haven’t touched someone in so long, haven’t been touched-” 
A dead serial killer who sort of respects your autonomy and is begging for you? 
“We don’t know how long this is going to last,” he continues. “I need to feel something, need to feel you-” 
“Fucking a ghost wasn’t on my Halloween bingo sheet,” you joke.
“It will be fun,” Mingyu insists. “I know what you like, I know your kinks, I know you, better than all those other guys you’ve fucked so far. Come on, princess, let me make you feel good.” 
It’s kind of creepy that the ghost even knows your preferred pet name, but it sounds so pretty coming from him. 
You weigh the pros and cons. 
Pros: He’s one of the sexiest men you’ve ever seen. He actually wants to make you cum. He already knows your kinks. He might be a touch obsessed with you, which would do wonders for your ego.
Cons: He’s literally a dead serial killer creep who’s been watching you jack off and get fucked for a few months. He could also disappear at any second.
Well, you can’t pass this up, especially since you have no idea how long this will last. And when he’s gone, he’ll stay gone. There are technically no strings, none that you can see at least.
And to top it all off, you’re extremely horny. You’d stayed back from going to the bar with your friends specifically to fuck yourself stupid tonight, and now, you have a ghost willing to get the job done for you.
“Okay, big guy,” you sigh. “Let’s see what you can do.”
Mingyu doesn’t waste a second. He grabs your face, cupping his large hand around the back of your skull to pull your lips to his own. 
You’re a little shocked, but you melt into his embrace quickly, pressing your hands to his beefy chest while his tongue licks at your lip, begging for entry. You open your mouth to him, and he kisses you deeper, letting out a low groan as he shifts you in his embrace, grabbing at your hip to pull you closer.
It’s been years since he’s touched anyone, but he kisses with the best of them. 
It’s almost too easy to get lost in Mingyu, your mind going pleasantly blank as you make out with the ghost. 
You’re eating up the sounds he’s making too. His mouth is eager against your own, all tongue and plump lips. It’s clear that your ghost has been very touch-starved. His hand gropes at your waist, toying with the towel still wrapped around your body. 
You can’t help yourself, you reach a hand between your bodies, cupping his cock through his jeans.
Mingyu pants against your lips, breaking the kiss to look down at where you’re touching him. “Fuck, you feel so fucking good,” he groans, pressing his hips forward for more friction.
He’s literally adorable, and so receptive. 
“You’ll take care of me first though, right?” you toy, squeezing your hand tighter around the large bulge in his pants.
“Yeah,” he swallows thickly, nodding. “Been wanting to taste your pussy for fucking months.”
Your core throbs at his words- he’s got a big dick and he likes oral? Your night just keeps getting better.
“Then you should taste me,” you tell him. “I’m even sweeter than I look.”
Mingyu lets out a deep groan, and then he’s sinking to his knees on the bathroom floor. His mouth finds your calf, and his large hands grab at your leg, adjusting it onto his shoulder while his lips ascend to your thigh. 
You lean back against the wall, trying to catch your breath while the large man gets closer and closer to where you need him most.
He reaches up, grabbing at your towel and tugging. In one motion, you’re naked for him, and the cool air of the bathroom has your skin tingling, nipples pebbling with interest.
Mingyu spreads your legs wider, and you can feel his breath on your pussy. You reach down to tangle your fingers in his hair. He looks up at you, eyes dark with lust, and then he’s diving in. He’s all tongue, the wet muscle pushing into your hole to taste you while he releases an almost animalistic groan of appreciation.
It’s clear this man is a pussy lover, and you can’t believe he’s gone so long without having his mouth on one. You’re more than happy to make up for the lost time, enjoying the feeling of him pressing his face closer to your wet core, tongue lapping at you while he begins to grind his nose against your clit.
He definitely knows how to eat, and you find yourself closing your eyes, enjoying the feeling building in the pit of your stomach. His hands are on your hips, but one trails up, grasping for your breast. The added stimulation of his thumb and pointer pinching your nipple has you crying out, hips rutting toward his face.
He just feels so good- and when his lips move to suction around your clit, your thigh quakes on his shoulder. “Fuck-” you moan loudly, shocked that it’s been this easy for him to get you to the cusp of an orgasm. 
Most men don’t know how to handle you, but it’s clear that he does. 
You can feel yourself practically dripping, and you’re not sure if it’s pussy juice or the ghost’s drool, but you don’t really care. It’s sinful and sexy and dirty- exactly what Halloween should be. 
Mingyu lets go of your breast, adjusting his hand- two fingers slide into your core while his mouth continues on your clit, and you swear this purgatory-bound sinner has just taken you to heaven. 
You’re a mewling mess now, moans and gasps leaving you uncensored while his thick fingers stretch out your core, pushing in and out while his tongue flicks at your most sensitive spot.
“I’m gonna cum,” you tell him, eyes clenched shut as the knot in your stomach is pulled tighter and tighter-
The man between your legs groans in response, driving his fingers into you faster and harder, his mouth making lewd sucking sounds around your clit. 
It’s everything you need to reach your high and you gasp loudly, tangling your fingers in his hair while your orgasm washes over you. Your hips buck against his face, only for his free hand to pin you to the wall, his motions never ceasing while you cry out, your core throbbing around his fingers.
No one has ever eaten you out this good. Your mind is practically blank, body completely overwhelmed with the pleasure surging through you. 
It’s almost too much for you to handle, and you find yourself tugging at Mingyu’s hair, trying to pull him away-
He won’t budge, growling heavily against your core. The vibration makes your legs twitch, and you’re not sure you’ll even be able to stand if he keeps this up-
Finally, Mingyu pulls away. He’s panting hard. His fingers slip out of your pussy only for him to place them in his mouth, sucking them clean while he groans lewdly. “Fuck,” he mumbles, looking up at you with stars in his eyes. “That was so good.”
You can’t even speak yet, too breathless from the mind-numbing orgasm to even think. 
Mingyu stands up, and you have to tilt your head to retain eye contact. God, why’s he so big and fuckable?
“Look at you, princess. You usually have good comebacks.” He leans forward, breath hot against your face. “Ghost got your tongue?”
You can’t help but laugh slightly, and Mingyu grins down at you. Then he’s cupping your cheek again, bringing his lips to yours. You can taste yourself as he kisses you deeply, but you don’t even care. You wrap your arms around his broad shoulders, pressing your boobs against his chest.
You need to be closer to him. Need to feel him, fully.
Mingyu reaches down, grabbing your ass and lifting you off the ground. Your legs wrap around his hips and the ghost carries you through the apartment, gently setting you onto your bed.
He towers over your now and your pussy throbs at the idea of how well he’s about to wreck you.
“You still want me, right?” he asks. “I’ll be good for you, I promise.”
You nod, licking your lips. “I know you will.”
“I’m a good boy,” Mingyu says quietly, eyes dipping down to your core.
“Then be a good boy and take off your shirt, I want to see you.”
He’s quick to comply, tearing off the black fabric to reveal his muscular chest. Your pussy throbs at the sight alone. His arms are huge, biceps bulging deliciously, and his pecs look downright biteable. Then there are his abs-
You sit up, trying to contain yourself. “Pants next.”
“Fuck, princess,” Mingyu groans, already working on his belt. “Has anyone ever told you how fucking perfect you are?”
“You’d know if they had, wouldn’t you, Ghost?” 
“These fucking dudes you have over,” Mingyu clicks his tongue, “none of them have known how to treat you right.”
“But you do?”
“Of course!” he scoffs, pushing his pants and underwear down, revealing the biggest cock you’ve ever seen. “Name one other guy who’s eaten your pussy like I have.”
He knows you too well.
“I should return the favour,” you suggest. 
“Fuck, I’d die all over again if you did.”
You get onto your knees, shuffling closer. You kiss him first, cupping his cheek with one hand while the other moves down to his cock, stroking him gently while he whines against your lips. He ruts his hips, forcing more friction while you grin into the kiss. 
“Needy Ghost,” you laugh.
“Need you so fucking bad,” he agrees. 
“Then I shouldn’t keep you waiting, should I?” 
“Please, don’t.”
You begin to kiss down his neck, taking your time as you trail your mouth across his body. You appreciate every centimeter, all the way down his pretty chest and abs. You trace your tongue along his hip bone and the ghost shivers, letting out a shuddery breath. “Holy shit.” 
“You’ll be nice and praise me while I have my mouth full, won’t you, handsome?” You sneak a glance up at him as you take him in your hand, adjusting his cock. 
“Yeah-” He swallows thickly. “I know how much my princess loves being told she’s a good girl.”
“Am I your good girl?” 
“So fucking good,” he nods eagerly. “So fucking good for me I can’t even believe it.”
You smile to yourself, pressing a chaste kiss to the head of his leaking cock that has the Ghost practically whimpering. 
“Fuck, can I- can I grab your hair?”
“Uh huh,” you lick a stripe along the head of his cock, circling it with your tongue while the gorgeous man shivers at the contact. 
“Please don’t tease me,” he begs, grabbing a fistful of your hair. “I don’t- don’t know how much time I have with you, and I’ll die if we spend the whole time teasing and I don’t even get to feel your perfect fucking pussy-”
You wrap your mouth around his cock, agreeing with what he’s saying, and it earns an immediate moan of appreciation from the man towering over you.
“Fuck, princess, you feel so good- you feel so fucking good-”
You swirl your tongue around his length, running it along the crease between the head and shaft. Mingyu’s grip tightens in your hair as more breathy moans spill from his lips. 
He’s much too big to fit in your mouth, so you pump what you can’t reach, using your saliva as lube to make stroking easier while you suck on him. Your eyes are closed, mind focused on pleasuring him the way he’d just pleasured you in the bathroom.
It feels good to be giving something back to him, especially as praises and words of encouragement fill the room. “Just like that, just like that, holy shit-”
You take him as deep as you can go, the head of his cock hitting the back of your throat, which constricts around him.
“Oh my god-” he practically whimpers, fingers flexing in your hair. “Please let me fuck your face, please, I want it so bad-”
You make a sound of affirmation and that’s all it takes for Mingyu to release a low groan, pushing his hips forward. He hits the back of your throat again and you do your best to clear your mind, focusing on anything but the gagging sensation as he begins to use your mouth for his own pleasure.
“Holy shit, good girl, good fucking girl-” he moans, quickening his pace. His grip on your head keeps you where he wants you, and it’s clear he’s being cognizant of not making you gag too hard. He seems to know your boundary, know just what to do without making it too much.
“Fuck, it’s too good- you’re too fucking good at this, princess,” Mingyu pants. “I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum but I promise I’ll still fuck you, I promise my recharge time is quick-”
You suction your cheeks harder around him and Mingyu practically cries out, grip tightening in your hair so hard it almost hurts. He’s a garbled mess of swear words now, and a few thrusts later he’s cumming down your throat, releasing the prettiest moan you’ve ever heard while his hips shudder with effort.
“Holy shit, good girl, good girl-” he groans, motions slowing as he cums rope after rope- “Taking me so fucking well, oh my god-” 
Mingyu pulls out of your mouth, breathing hard. He looks down at you while you also take a few deep breaths. 
It’s the oddest thing. His cum hadn’t tasted like anything. There was no salt or musk- it was just… different. You suppose he’s a ghost, so that could account for the lack of flavour, and you almost prefer it that way. 
“That was so good,” Mingyu tells you. “You’re good, right?” 
You nod, pulling away from him to fall back against the bed again. “I’m perfect.”
“Yeah, you are,” the ghost laughs. 
“So are you going to make me cum again, or…?” you cock your head to the side, assessing him.
He’s still trying to catch his breath, cheeks all flushed, hair a tangle of dark curls. He looks beautiful.
“Fuck, yeah,” Mingyu grins, and the smile lights up his whole face. “I know you probably want two or three more, you’re insatiable like that, aren’t you, princess?”
“I guess it takes one to know one,” you laugh. “I bet you usually cum two or more times watching me, don’t you, Ghost boy?”
“Guilty.” He runs his fingers through his wild hair. “But my hand is nothing compared to you.”
“Funny, my hand is nothing compared to you either.”
“Match made in heaven,” Mingyu muses, getting onto the bed to join you while you wrap your arms around his shoulders, tugging him in for another breathtaking kiss.
He slots so well between your legs, one hand pressed to the bed while the other comes up to massage your breast. You moan against his lips, arching your back, wanting more. His thumb brushes over your nipple and then he’s pinching it, making you cry out.
“You like a little pain, don’t you, princess?” he grins, looking down at you.
“A little,” you admit.
“You know…” his hand moves up from your breast, teasing over your collarbone, “sometimes, when you’re trying to make yourself cum, and you choke yourself- it’s one of the sexiest things I’ve ever fucking seen.”
“Oh yeah?” You grab his hand, guiding it to your throat. 
In the back of your mind, you remember that this hot ghost is also a killer- but his hands are shockingly soft and gentle as he squeezes your neck. 
“Fuck, you look gorgeous,” he groans.
“Tighter,” you tell him, stroking his forearm while the muscles move beneath the skin, his hand pressing harder onto your airway.
You let out a small whimper, closing your eyes and enjoying the lightheaded feeling. 
“Ready for my fingers again?” he asks.
“Want your cock.”
“Fingers first,” he insists, letting go of your throat so he can trail his hand down your body until he’s cupping your pussy. You buck against his hand and he grins. “So eager.”
“Be a good boy and make princess cum again,” you tell him.
It’s an interesting kink for him to have - the whole good boy angle -  you would have thought a man like him would be a full dom, but you kind of enjoy this switchy side. It allows you to tell him what to do, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy holding a lot of the power in this interaction.
Two of his fingers slip into your core and you both groan at the feeling. “Still so fucking wet,” the ghost muses. “Did sucking me off turn you on that much?”
“I like the sounds you make,” you admit, rocking your hips against his hand while he palms your clit.
“Yeah?” His grin widens. 
“You’re my perfect puppy,” you sigh happily as he finger fucks you even harder. 
Mingyu reacts to the new petname with a low groan and you thread your fingers through his hair, tugging his lips to your own. You love the way his tongue invades your mouth, teasing and tasting but not dominating. 
His fingers continue to stretch you out, his palm a constant pressure on your clit. You can’t fucking wait to take his cock, and it’s just one orgasm away. 
You break the kiss to move your mouth to his neck, loving the whimpery sounds of appreciation that leave him as you begin sucking on his skin. There’s no reason not to leave marks, so you go as hard as you want, teasing your teeth over his jugular while it bounces with effort.
“Fuck, fuck-” Mingyu groans loudly, clearly enjoying the attention being paid to his pretty throat.
You can feel your core beginning to throb, your pussy tightening as another orgasm approaches, doing its best to keep Mingyu’s fingers buried knuckle deep even as he drives them into you rougher and rougher.
“Are you gonna cum again?” Mingyu asks, breathless. “Please tell me you’re gonna cum again.”
You can feel his cock, hard and pressed to your leg, leaking from how turned on he is while he finger fucks you and you kiss his throat. He’s so easy to make come undone. It boosts your ego like nothing else, and your pussy pulses with desire.
“I’m close,” you tell him, licking at his throat and making your way to his ear. “Be a good boy and make me cum.”
Mingyu groans loudly, and then he’s suddenly pulling away from you, moving down the bed to get between your legs again. His fingers don’t stop inside of you, but his free hand pushes your thigh up, giving him more space as he brings his lips to your clit.
“Holy shit-” you groan, threading your fingers through his hair and letting your head loll back against the pillows. You hadn’t thought you’d get his mouth on you like this again- but you suppose you had commanded him to make you cum, and this position is a tried and true winner. 
You can’t even tell him you’re about to cum, he simply tears it out of you. Your back arches off the bed, a sinful whine escaping your lips while your thighs quiver, pussy clamping down on his fingers, your clit throbbing desperately. Mingyu lets out a growl, slurping hard at the sensitive bud, and it brings tears to your eyes at how good it feels.
You feel like you’re the ghost now, your soul practically leaving your body while Mingyu works you through another one of the most intense orgasms of your entire life.
When he finally pulls away from your core, you can’t even open your eyes. You can only lay there, trying to catch your breath while the bed dips under his weight. You feel his hands digging into the pillows on either side of your head, and then something brushes by your nose.
You open your eyes to find Mingyu staring down at you, gently rubbing the tip of his nose against your own. “You good, princess?”
“I’m perfect,” you tell him, wrapping your legs around his hips to pull him closer.
You catch his cock between your bodies and a moan leaves you at how big he feels. 
“Ready for more?” he asks.
You can only nod, grabbing at his shoulders to drag him into a kiss. It’s almost relaxing to take a minute to just kiss him, mind blank, body still tingling in the aftershocks of your orgasm.
Then Mingyu begins to rut his hips, dragging his cock through your pussy lips and making you groan when he bumps your clit.
You’re the one who reaches between your bodies, grabbing his dick to line it up with your core.
Mingyu watches you carefully and you give him a small nod. “Do it,” you tell him. “Fuck me stupid.”
He only laughs, pressing his lips to yours as he pushes into you. Your pussy swallows him inch by inch, with you clawing at his shoulders when he’s finally all the way in. 
You’ve never felt anything like Mingyu- he stretches you out in a way that most men can only dream of. You feel small, fragile, needy- almost like a virgin again, and the way he’s kissing you eagerly definitely brings back memories of first times. 
He begins to thrust gently, allowing your body time to adjust to his massive size. You’re a little shocked at how easy the glide of it is, but you suppose you’re wetter than you’ve ever been after having cum so hard twice. It feels absolutely all-consuming. His cock is practically all you can think about as you tangle your fingers in his hair and kiss him deeper.
Mingyu is groaning into your mouth, and the sounds fuel your entire body with even more lust. You trail one hand down his back, enjoying the way it makes him shiver. 
“Do I feel good, Gyu?” you ask.
“You feel perfect,” he tells you, burying his face against your throat. His mouth is hot as he leaves wet kisses there, his hips moving even faster. “So fucking good. Better than I ever imagined.”
“You’ve imagined me a lot, haven’t you, big guy?”
“So many times-” he admits. “Never thought… never thought I’d actually get to fuck you like this.”
“Just wait till you make me cum while buried inside of me,” you grin, tilting your head so he can press fevered kisses to your jaw while groaning loudly. 
“Fuck-” One of his hands moves to your hip, keeping you pinned. He’s fucking you so hard now that the bed is rocking, but you can’t bring yourself to care about neighbors. “Wait, flip around for me, I know you go wild for doggy.”
God, it’s so easy with him. 
He has you on your knees in seconds, large hands cupping your hips to adjust your ass higher as he slips back inside of you. This new position makes him feel even bigger, if that’s possible, and it makes your toes curl. 
With each hard snap of his hips, your ass slaps back against his front. The sound of skin on skin mixed with his moans is doing something crazy to you- you’re completely consumed by him. There’s not a thought in your head other than “Yes, yes, yes! Fuck, harder Gyu, harder!”
He’s more than willing to comply, railing you like you’ve never been railed before.
You can feel fluids beginning to drip down your legs, that’s how wet you are. Stroke game has never been this easy.
Then he reaches around your front, leaning over your back so he can access your clit. You cry out from the stimulation, core clenching deliciously around the large intrusion. “Holy shit-” you whimper.
“Can you cum for me again, princess?” Mingyu asks, breath hot against your shoulders. 
“Are you close?” you gasp, feeling another orgasm building achingly fast.
“Yeah, but I want at least one more out of you,” the ghost says. “It’s Halloween, you deserve it.”
“I deserve it?” you nearly laugh, but the giggle is quick to turn into a moan as he applies more pressure to your clit.
“Yeah, of course you deserve it. You’re being so good for me, so fucking good-”
The praise goes straight to your pussy and you tangle your hands in the sheets. “Gyu-”
“That’s it, please, princess, wanna feel you cum.” He digs his fingers into your hip, drawing consistent circles on your clit. He knows exactly what to do to make you feel good, and you wonder how many times he’s watched you make yourself cum like this.
“That’s it,” Mingyu groans. “Fuck you feel amazing. Come on, cum for me. Come on, pretty girl.”
Your body twitches and you let out a gasp, tensing before your release hits you straight on. Your eyes clench shut as your pussy clamps down on his cock, a strangled moan escaping you as pleasure surges through you. Your mind practically short circuits, your brain blank except for the pure ecstasy he’s providing. 
Mingyu lets out a loud groan, panting harder as he fucks you through your high. He pulls his hand away from your clit in favour of grabbing your hips again, pushing his entire cock into your aching hole over and over again.
“Just like that, just like that-” he tells you. “Fuck, you’re literally dripping, holy shit-”
You don’t even care that your bed sheets are going to be ruined after this- all you care about is the man behind you fucking you like it’s his last night on earth. To be fair, it just might be.
“Good princess,” Mingyu breathes. “So good for me.”
“Gyu-” you whimper trying to push yourself up onto your hands. You rut your hips back to meet his thrusts and he lets out another guttural moan of appreciation. “I wanna ride you till you cum.”
You think he deserves it. 
In fact, you know he deserves it.
This man has made you cum three times already, and you’ll be damned if you don’t try to return the favor. 
“You wanna ride me?” Mingyu stops with his cock fully inside of you, and his hand smooths down your back. “Really?”
“Uh huh,” you nod, pushing back against him in an attempt to get him even deeper. “Bet you miss being ridden, don’t you, big guy?”
He lets out a groan, and then he’s removing his cock from your core, practically pouncing onto the bed next to you. He grabs your hips, helping you straddle him. While you reach between your bodies to grab his cock and line it up with your core, he slips a hand around the back of your skull, pulling your lips down to meet yours.
The ghost is grinning into the kiss and it’s almost laughable how excited he is. 
You sink down onto his length and you both release loud moans into each other’s mouths. 
It feels so good to be filled up like this. You begin by grinding against him, adjusting to his size. You can feel him so deep, all the way in the pit of your stomach.
He grabs at your thighs then your boobs, and you can tell he’s having difficulty deciding which parts of you he wants to worship. Then he takes a fistful of your ass, squeezing rough enough to have you whimpering while his tongue invades your mouth.
You begin to ride him, bracing your hands against his chest.
Mingyu is just so big- the sexiest man you’ve ever fucked and there’s no contest in that.
He’s so good at kissing too, moaning into it while you pick up the speed of your thrusts. 
He grabs your hips, helping you bounce up and down. Each movement fills you up deliciously, your drenched core swallowing him up like you were made for this.
You pull away from his lips, straightening while you ride him. Mingyu takes the opportunity to grab your breasts, kneading them in his hands while his thumbs tease your nipples. You cover his hand with one of your own, urging him to squeeze harder. 
“Fuck, you’re so fucking pretty,” Mingyu groans, hips thrusting up to meet you.
His cock is hitting even deeper now, and you swear no one has ever been this deep inside of you before. There’s literally nothing in the world like Mingyu… or his cock. 
“Look at you taking all of me,” he continues, cheeks flushed pink, breath hot. “I always knew you’d be able to- always knew you’d be a fucking champ in bed.”
You want to tell him he’s one to talk, but it seems the ghost has got your tongue again. All you can do is moan lewdly, riding him harder and ignoring the burn of your thighs.
Mingyu sits up, leaning forward to take your breast into his mouth. His tongue flicks by your nipple and you cry out, tangling your fingers in his hair to hold him to your chest. He groans deeply as you pull on his hair, teeth grazing the sensitive bud caught between his lips.
“Holy shit,” you whimper, core clenching tight around his cock.
The ghost pants loudly, giving your breast one last kiss before he flops down onto his back again. “You close?” he asks, reaching out so his thumb can find your clit, rubbing it.
“Fuck, yeah- if you keep doing that, yeah, I’m close-” you nod, clawing at his chest.
“I need you to cum with me,” Mingyu tells you. “Want us to cum together.”
“Me too, me too-” you assure him, closing your eyes to focus on the feeling of his cock filling you up perfectly while his thumb works harder on your clit.
“Want you on top,” the ghost continues, “but I want to take over. Can you rub yourself for me?”
“Yeah.” You swallow thickly, leaning over him so you can press your lips to his own. Your hand sneaks between your legs, and you hover over him, thrusts coming to a stop while he gets a grip on your hips.
His tongue battles your own as he begins to piston up into you- God, it feels even better when he’s the one fucking you from below. All you have to do is hold yourself over him with one shaky arm while your fingers work on your clit, dragging you closer and closer to the edge again.
“Oh my god-” you mumble against his mouth, and it only makes him smile, rutting up into you even faster. 
“I can’t-” he breaks the kiss to burry his face against your throat, “I can’t hold off much longer, please tell me you’re gonna cum with me, please-”
“I will!” you whine. “I’m so close-”
His mouth is hot against your neck and he sucks on your sweet spot, making you cry out. He groans loudly at the way your core tightens around his massive cock. Then he’s pulling away from your throat, wrapping a hand around it instead.
“Look at me,” he instructs. “Want to watch you cum.”
You force your eyes open, gasping as he tightens his grip on your neck. You’re so fucking close you can almost taste it. 
His other arm adjusts, palm snaking up your back as he fucks up into you wildly.
“Can I give you a countdown?” he asks.
You nod enthusiastically. He’s choking you too hard to answer. Your blood is rushing to your head and your pussy, body practically on fire-
“Three-” he moans loudly, staring up at you with dark eyes. “Two-” a small grunt leaves his lips, fingers digging into your back. “One! Cum with me- please, fuck, cum with me!” 
You let out a gasp, all the tension in your body snapping like the cord in your stomach. Pleasure washes over you, and it’s unlike anything you’ve ever felt. It’s better than the first three orgasms if that’s even possible, and if it weren’t for the tight grip on your neck cutting off most of your sounds, you’re sure you’d be screaming.
Mingyu’s deep groans are only making you more turned on as your core throbs around his cock. He’s still fucking you, but soon the pleasure seems to be even too much for him. He drags you fully against his chest, burying himself completely in your pussy while he fills you up with his cum. 
He releases your throat in favor of smashing his lips against your own, tongue running against your teeth while he groans loudly. You whimper into the kiss, pussy still pulsing around him.
This has to be one of the longest orgasms you’ve ever had- and with his massive cock still buried inside of you, your pussy gets practically no reprieve. All you can do is gasp and whimper against his lips while your body struggles to process the insane amount of pleasure that’s still coursing through you.
Mingyu lets out a laugh, resting down against the pillows and looking up at you. “Was that good?” he asks. 
You can only shake your head at him, letting out a small chuckle as the last of your orgasm wafts through you like a warm summer breeze. 
“Yeah,” his hand smooths up and down your back, “it was good for me too.”
“You literally just ruined me for anyone else.”
“That was the goal, princess.” He grins.
“You’re so bad.”
“Obviously you have a thing for bad boys.”
“And ghosts, apparently.” You’re still coming to terms with what you’ve just done. Part of you wonders if this is just some crazy dream.
“Just me though, right?” He kisses you gently and it leaves you wanting more.
“For now, but if I meet another ghost with a huge cock, maybe that will change,” you tease.
Mingyu sighs, shaking his head at you. “We should probably get you cleaned up, then… can we cuddle? I’m still not sure how long you’ll be able to see me, and… I think ending the night holding you would be nice.”
A ghost who loves eating pussy, made you cum four times, has a massive cock, and wants to spoil you with some aftercare-
You’re for sure ruined for any other guy you meet and you know it. 
It sucks to have to get off of Mingyu’s dick, and your legs hurt, but he helps you to the bathroom with a shit-eating grin. “Never seen you walk like this after being fucked,” he muses.
“No one’s fucked me like you just did and you know it,” you laugh. 
He gives you a bit of privacy while you pee and get all the cum off of you, but he joins you when you begin to brush your teeth. Mingyu stands behind you, hands finding your hips, eyes locked on yours through the mirror. 
“Tomorrow, when you get ready for bed, imagine me right here,” he tells you, leaning down to press a kiss to your bare shoulder. 
“Yeah?” You press your ass back against him. “Is this usually where you stand while I brush my teeth?”
“Uh huh.” His hands move from your hips to grab onto your tits, squeezing them. “Gonna miss being able to touch you.”
You frown a little at his words, spitting into the sink before turning in his arms. “I’m gonna miss you too, Gyu.”
“Really?” He grins. “So no more fucking randoms?”
You laugh. “Do you expect me to wait a whole nother year just to get railed again?”
“I guess that does sound impossible,” Mingyu sighs. “Just know that any guy you do bring over… I’ll be watching.”
“And judging, I bet.” He’s so obsessed with you that it hurts. 
“Always.”
“What are you going to do?” you ask. “Waiting for a whole year before you can fuck me again?”
“You know what I’m going to do,” he grins. “Every time you touch yourself, I’ll be touching myself too.”
God, this is going to take masturbation to a whole new level.
“Do you…” you swallow. “If I got Jeonghan’s ouija board, do you think you could communicate with me through it? I mean… you’ve never thrown books around or done anything like this before so-”
“Maybe,” Mingyu cocks his head to the side. “I kind of had to use Seokmin’s hands as my own tonight, but, I could try it with just you. But you can’t expect to ask a question and have the wooden thing move to an answer on its own.” 
“Okay, noted.” You let out a sigh. “Now come to bed with me, puppy. I need a good cuddle.”
He lets you take his hand, guiding him back to your room where he joins you under your duvet. 
Mingyu is quick to adjust you as his little spoon, pulling you tight to his chest. One arm is secured under your head as a mock pillow, and the other hand cups your breast. His breath is hot against your neck.
“Would it be too soon to say I love you?” he asks suddenly.
You can only laugh. You’ve just met him tonight, but you suppose he’s been watching you for months at this point. You can only imagine how much he’s pined for you by this point. 
“You can say it, but I can’t return the sentiment, not now at least,” you admit.
“That’s okay, Ghost romances are usually one-sided anyways, or so I would imagine.” 
You can only laugh, enjoying the feeling of his body wrapped around yours.
“You won’t be here in the morning,” you muse sadly.
“I mean, I’ll be here, but you won’t be able to see me.”
“Do ghosts sleep?” you ask.
“Yeah.”
“Where do you usually sleep?”
“On the couch.”
“Well, from now on, I give you permission to sleep here with me.”
“Really?” He squeezes your breast.
“Of course. This is going to sound crazy, but… I can even say goodnight to you, although you won’t be able to say it back.”
“I’ll say it back,” Mingyu assures you. “You’ll just have to imagine it.”
“I can do that.”
“Gonna have to imagine a lot of things.” 
You know that a relationship with a ghost isn’t a long-term plan. You know that things can’t really go anywhere with him- but at the same time, there’s almost a peace that comes with having your very own personal spirit who’s in love with you and restricted to your apartment.
“You’re tired, aren’t you, pretty girl?” His breath is comforting against the nape of your neck.
“Exhausted.”
“Then you should get some sleep.”
“You don’t want me to stay up? Don’t want to enjoy every second we have together?” 
“I always enjoy every second we have together,” he laughs. “Something tells me this touching thing isn’t going to last much longer, and I want you to fall asleep in my arms, even if it’s only once.”
“Goodnight, Mingyu.”
“Goodnight, princess.” He presses a kiss to your shoulder. “I love you.”
It’s the last words you hear from him as you drift off to sleep, your body succumbing to the exhaustion of four orgasms. 
When you wake up the next morning, your bed is empty, but you know you’re not alone.
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☀️ mlist + an. thank you for reading! I hope I didn't scare anyone off with the serial killer tag, can we all agree this is a soft boy? "what about the people he murdered?" "what murder???"
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🔮 preview. It has to be close to midnight now- it has to be- “I need you now,” you whine, moving your hand from your clit to grab the sheets. “We’ve both been so good this year, this is so unfair-” You’re horny, but you’re sad too, frustrated, desperate, annoyed- There’s no way you can make yourself cum while up in your head like this and you know it. Letting out a groan of defeat, you tear your hand from between your legs- only for it to be caught in a vice grip. Your eyes flash open, heart thundering in your ribcage. Mingyu is kneeling at the foot of the bed, and you watch as he brings your wet fingers to his mouth, licking them clean and letting out an absolutely guttural groan.
cw/ tw. masturbation, oral (f receiving), multiple reader orgasms, unprotected sex, praise, dirty talk, cock warming, bulge kink, deep kink, serial killer/ghost Mingyu, switch Mingyu, hand job, big dick Mingyu, fingering, mentions of suicide, recording sex with a phone, boob worship, etc… I pet names: (hers) princess, good girl. (his) good boy.
👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 3.9k I teaser wc. 200
🌙 staring. Mingyu x afab!Reader
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bonus
Part of you wishes you’d never told Jeonghan about Mingyu because your friend has become absolutely obsessed with communicating with your apartment ghost. In the year since you last saw Mingyu, there hasn’t been one hangout at your place that didn’t include Jeonghan whipping out the Ouija board.
“We should do another shot,” Jeonghan tells you, sitting on the couch and toying with the planchette.
“It’s almost midnight, I really think you should be heading home,” you sigh. Seokmin, Soonyoung and Seungkwan have the decency to have left half an hour ago, but they’ve never been that excited about your ghost adventures.
“You won’t even let me meet the guy?” Jeonghan whines. “Come on, let's ask Mingyu if he wants to meet me!”
He places the planchette on the board, and it immediately moves to Yes. Sometimes you think Jeonghan’s moving it himself, using your ghost roommate to further his own wants and needs. 
“I’m pretty sure Mingyu will want to spend the full-time slot with me alone,” you insist. 
The planchette moves to No and you roll your eyes while Jeonghan grins at you.
“Give me that!” You take the wooden tool from his hands, setting it on the board. “Mingyu, do you want Jeonghan to leave?���
You feel the familiar cold tingle in your hands, and without adding any pressure yourself, the planchette moves to the word Yes. 
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itsthewritergal · 9 months ago
Text
don't tell Bucky - B.Barnes x reader
Summary: Reader is broke and refuses to tell mob!bucky the extend of it
TW: fluff, happy ending, little swears, mention of money, getting fired, (think that's everything)
ENJOY!!
:)
Y/N was used to the biting cold in her apartment, it had been a long few months with her hours being cut down and bills piling up she was in debt. Badly. She had started cutting costs where possible, heating was the first to go, she had opted for  not turning the heating on despite the freezing temperatures outside, food was the second thing to go, she had starting making meals stretch and eating less and slowly things seemed a little more manageable. The bills continued to pile up, yet things seemed a little easier. Every single penny was put to the side to clear her debt. She had been seeing Bucky as much as possible but she couldn’t talk to him about it, he would just offer to pay her debt off and then she’d owe him for almost the rest of her life. She couldn’t ask him. She wouldn’t. Bucky had picked her up from work, it was a surprise, and something Y/N was grateful for as she wouldn’t have to pay for the bus home. 
“Do you want to stay at mine tonight?” Bucky asked gently pressing a kiss to her cheek as they finished their heavy make-out session in the car 
“I’ve got work in the morning,” She said softly, breath slipping through her lips 
“Call in sick” Bucky said between kisses “You can go without one shift can’t you?” Bucky asked 
“We’re short staffed Buck, I need to be there” She lied easily, 
“Let me come in? I just want to hold you tonight” He said softly pressing another kiss to her lips. Y/N nodded in agreement, how could she ever say no to an offer like that? 
Bucky followed Y/N up the stairs to her apartment, she unlocked the door and was met by an icy breeze. Bucky shuddered. 
“Why is it so cold baby? Your heating broken?” He asked 
“Hmm?” Y/N asked turning around to face him 
“Your apartment Y/N, it’s cold” 
“Oh, sorry Buck I turned the heating off” 
“For good?” Bucky asked closing the door behind him “Or is it broken?” He asked
“Oh, no I just turned it off whilst I was at work” Y/N said softly, 
“Why would you do that?” Bucky asked again pulling Y/N into an embrace 
“It was just while I went to work Buck”
“That’s not safe doll, you should keep the heating on so you don’t get ill, even when you’re not home. You need to come into a warm house” Bucky said, Y/N resisted the urge to cry. 
“I usually do Bucky, it was just a one off” she said. 
Bucky didn’t mention the heating again that night. Y/N was grateful for that small mercy. What he did mention was the mountain of blankets that sat on her bed. 
“Doll?” He called from her bedroom 
“Yeah?” She replied coming into the bedroom, her eyes falling on Bucky’s metal hand clasping three blankets, 
“You coming down with something?” He asked “I can call Banner to come and check on you if you want?” 
“Oh Buck, no I’m ok. Just get cold when you’re not here” She said, it wasn’t a complete lie, just a small one. It made her feel a little better. 
“You know you could just move in with me?” Bucky offered 
“Don’t be silly Bucky, we’ve spoken about this” She said and Bucky stopped himself from starting an argument by pressing his lips to hers. 
— — — 
The next few weeks were tricky. Y/N had started picking up more shifts than she could count which lessened her time to do anything; most of all see Bucky. 
When one fateful day put Y/N’s life into a tailspin, 
“Y/N could you come into my office when you get a moment please?” Her boss’s voice cut through the noise, and Y/N felt a panic run through her body, 
“I’ll come now” She said quickly, hurrying behind the shorter lady, “is everything ok?” 
“Take a seat Y/N” She said, Y/N knew this wasn’t good, she never asked her to take a seat before, this had got to be bad news. 
“Have I done something wrong?” 
“No, Y/N you’re one of the best workers we have here” She said taking a deep breath “but we can’t afford to keep you on, with prices and wages going up we’re cutting down to less staff members and well it’s only fair that we let you go first. You’ve got enough experience to get another job quickly whereas the others don’t” 
“You mean the others are cheaper because they are younger?” Y/N said noticing the true meaning behind her words. 
“That isn’t what we are doing Y/N” her boss spoke halfheartedly 
“When do I leave?” Y/N asked dejectedly, knowing it was a loosing battle 
“Today’s your last shift, you are let go without holiday pay or leave notice” She said passing Y/N an envelope “All the necessary documents are in here, please hand your keys in at the end of the shift” 
“No need to wait” Y/N said, pulling her work keys out her bag and putting them on the desk. Picking up the envelope, Y/N walked out. 
The walk home was a cold one, not only because of the biting wind but Y/N felt empty, numb, like she’d just been caught in the rain. She wanted to call Bucky, but after her neglect of him she knew that he was probably mad at her and calling him to cry would not be the best way to go. However, her ringtone cut Y/N’s moping thoughts short, 
“Hello?” 
“Doll, oh thank god. Steve just told me he passed you on the street, he’s turning around to pick you up so don’t go anywhere. What’s happened?” Bucky asked 
“Nothing Buck, I’ll talk to you later, tell Steve not to worry” 
“No, he’s picking you up and you can come here or go home then come here, or just head home if that’s what you want but I’d rather Steve did it than you walk yourself doll okay?” He said 
“It’s going to happened whatever I say right?” Y/N chuckled halfheartedly, the lack of reply on Bucky’s end confirmed it “I’ll wait for Steve” 
“Good girl, I’ll see you soon” He said ending the call quickly. 
As if on cue Steve’s car pulled into view, 
“Hey Y/N, Buck’s waiting for you” He said opening the door for her, 
“Thanks Steve” 
After a few quiet minutes Y/N answered the question which was burning in Steve's mind, 
“I got fired” She said quietly, 
“They did what? Oh Buck won’t be happy, how dare they” Steve said forcefully, 
“They can’t afford me apparently” Y/N chuckled sadly 
“Bullshit” 
“Promise you won’t tell Bucky?” She asked 
“I won’t lie to him if he asks” Steve said “But I’ll divert attention so he doesn’t ask” Steve agreed quietly 
— — — — — 
Y/N had avoided Bucky for another two weeks, she hadn’t meant to. But she had been sending CV’s, babysitting, dog walking and selling small handmade bits online. Anything possible to make some money, she was yet to receive an interview or even any interest. It seemed that everyone was full of employees or was hiring younger staff, there was no place for Y/N. 
She had been dodging her landlord phone calls, and the electricity company and even a few others who she knew were angry that she hadn’t paid. Stretching her legs out wide on the floor she took a minute away from her laptop screen and picked up her phone. 
“I’m on my way, be there in 15” Bucky had texted around 15 minutes ago, Y/N let out a panicked sigh and started picking up the mess around her to try and make herself look presentable for Bucky, she had to keep up appearances. 
“Doll?” Bucky called through her apartment, 
“In here” She replied quickly shoving some dirty clothes at the bottom of her wardrobe, 
“Hey doll” He said softly pulling her in for a kiss, not seeming to notice her dishevelled state. 
“Hey Bucky” she pressed a kiss to his lips, something she had missed dearly. 
“I need to talk to you” Bucky said pulling her down to sit on the bed, she sat down with his hands gripped in hers as if he was about to disappear. 
“I know I’ve been awful Buck, I haven’t spoken to you and I’ve avoided you, please don’t be mad, I’ve just been so stressed and—”
Bucky quickly cut her off “I’m not breaking up with you Y/N” 
“You’re not?” 
“No, doll I’m not” 
“Oh” 
“I know what’s going on Y/N” he said sincerely 
“Nothing’s going on” 
“Doll I know” 
“Bucky nothing is going on”
“You got fired, you’ve been trying to find another job, you’ve been dog walking, which I’m not happy with because that’s dangerous when you don’t know the dog or the owner, and you’ve been selling your adorably little crochet animals online” Bucky said 
“You got someone to follow me” 
“You started shutting me out” Bucky justified 
“Fair enough” 
“Did I miss anything?” Bucky asked 
“No” Y/N said her eyes welling up with tears, she let go on Bucky’s hand to hide her face in them, 
“Oh doll, come here” Bucky said wrapping his arms around her, letting her cry all her stresses and troubles away onto his shirt, he knew once she had cried they would be able to talk through options properly. 
“I’m sorry” Y/N said with a sniffle 
“Can I finish what I was saying earlier?” Bucky asked, Y/N nodded silently “I’ve paid off all your debts, I did the landlord, electricity, water and that loan you took out, you can pay me back if you want to if you have the money, if not it’s my birthday present to you I know you won’t accept it any other way” He said 
“Bucky please”
“It’s already done” 
“I should be able to do this better,I  should be able to pay my fucking bills” 
“No” Bucky said calmly 
“No?” 
“No you’re not doing that. You are doing as best as you can. And I refuse to listen to that shit. Now put on a nice dress, we’re going out to eat” 
— — — — 
That night when Bucky and Y/N were laying in bed cuddled up to each other, Y/N decided to be brave 
“Bucky?” 
“Yes doll?” 
“Do you think I could move in with you?” She asked pressing a kiss to his chest “I don’t think I want to do this alone anymore” 
“Doll, I’d be delighted” 
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