midnightzonzz

[midnightzonzz]

Silence of the Mountains (gr63)

↳ A/N After watching Zhou's motorhome tour over the Austrian GP weekend, I ended up having a dream Saturday night...this is the written version of that dream. And, hey, it must have been a premonition because look who won the next day ;)

↳ Summary: George decides to rent a motorhome for the Austrian Grand Prix weekend like some of the other drivers do; he's sure it'll make everything so much more convenient. Sharing the space with his trainer might be beneficial for work but certainly not when it comes to taming your insatiable appetite.

↳ Pairings: George Russell x Fem!Reader (NO use of y/n)

↳ Word Count: 4.2k

↳ Warnings: 18+, smut, risky locations, forced silence (smothering sounds with hands, pillows, sheets), little bit of grinding, whispered dirty talk, slight degradation, George goes from 🤭 to 😈 in like a flip of a switch, unprotected sex (& creampie because is it really something I've written if that's not included?)

The gentle hush of rain through the quiet night was a calming contrast to the thunderous sound of race car engines that had once filled the Austrian countryside. In the secluded section of the lush green forests, carved by breathtaking mountains and rolling hills, a half dozen million-dollar motorhomes rested in an organized cluster. There was an almost eerie darkness that surrounded the camp with nothing around but nature and twinkling stars hidden behind hazy rain clouds. 

The light drops fell in a soft pitter patter against the roof of the motorhome, creating a lulling atmosphere for a well deserved sleep before the impending race the next day. Within the protection that the luxury mobile home offered from the elements, the rhythm of the rain was countered by the soft sounds of timid kisses and breathy giggles that were muffled by the gentle rustle of sheets.

“We should sleep.” George’s whispered voice reached your ears under the sea of luxury linen. His hand rested on your waist, sliding around to the dip of your spine and back again.

Directly beside him, face to face, you had an arm tucked under his neck and the other strewn around his shoulders, holding him as close against you as you could physically manage. Your fingers clutched onto the fabric of his shirt as if worried he was going to move away and, once he spoke those words, your grip tightened a little more. 

“I don’t want to.” you replied in a hushed whisper.

Your lips met again in a few more passive kisses. 

“I want to keep kissing you.” you added dreamily, eyelids lovingly closed.

You could hear him smile through the darkened room, his adoration for you as clear as day in his tone, “Me too, love, but I need some rest for tomorrow.” 

The taste of his lips was addicting as you nuzzled your face a little closer to steal more chasté kisses from him. George would never complain. 

You laid there together in the king size bed in the motorhome you complained heartily about staying in that weekend (“You’re partnered with two hotels, I’m sure we can connect with one, rather than suffer in this glorified tin can on wheels”), limbs tangled under soft sheets, breaths falling in calm unison. When your eyes were closed, the place could almost pass as a hotel. 

The two of you were cuddled so close that it was physically impossible for there to be any space between you. You shared the mattress, the blankets, a pillow. Hands caressed clothed skin under the down-filled duvet, holding and coddling loving bodies, such a tangle you weren’t quite sure where you ended and he began. Chest to chest, you could feel your heartbeats thudding in slow, steady time; the shape of his pecs through his t-shirt pushing faintly against the curve of your breasts under yours like you were one entity. 

George’s breaths fell softly against your cheek and yours returned the favour, faces millimetres apart. So close that you barely had to pucker your lips and you would be kissing him. It was easy and convenient and you had been laying there together like that for who knew how long, making the most of the moment. Familiar hands, comforting breaths, lazy kisses.

It always felt so surreal like this; warm, dreamlike, ethereal. You wanted more of him, all of him, always. 

You pulled your hand out from under the blankets to slide around the back of his neck and into the roots of his soft hair, holding him firmly in place as you kissed his lips; the bottom one, then the top one, then both, both again, and again, and again-

“Sweetheart,” George murmured with a smile, his voice low and warm like melted caramel, “that’s enough.”

“No, it’s not.” you countered urgently, whispered words wavering through the darkened room before you pressed your lips together again. 

George let out a little ‘mmph’ against your lips at your insistence but he was never one to decline you. He always kissed you back.

Your leg slid up his until you could slide it around his waist, naturally urging his thigh between yours. He shifted in your arms a little, lips still locked in a lingering kiss, his large hand trailing over the curve of your ass and down to your thigh as if to keep you wrapped around him. You could feel the heat of his skin against yours and your hips naturally nudged against the muscle of his leg that was pressed between yours. 

Just as you let out a tiny whimper at the friction, George pulled away from your kiss. He rested his forehead against yours, sighing out, “Okay, that’s enough, love.”

“No, it’s not.” you protested, leaning in for more kisses from his swollen lips before adding, “I want more of you.”

He smiled against your lips, letting out a breathy laugh as he pulled away, “We can’t.”

But you just kept kissing him, kiss after kiss after kiss.

George chuckled softly with his hand rubbing up and down your thigh, reiterating when you paused to breathe, “We can’t, love.”

“Mm,” you whined softly, shifting in his arms to kiss his chin and then his throat, nibbling at his neck as your hips rolled naturally against his bare thigh again.

George’s breath shuddered slightly and his hand gave your bum a small pat, reminding you in a whisper, “Aleix is only a room away…and these walls are so thin…”

“Should have gotten a hotel room like I said.” you mumbled between soft kisses along the expanse of his neck.

George groaned softly and his head tilted back a little to give you room, his hand tightening around your waist as if he were torn between drawing you closer or pushing you away. He had figured renting a motorhome for the European races like most of the other drivers did would have been much more convenient; it would be closer to the circuit, there was hired security, his trainer would be right there should he need anything. But, despite all this, the convenience of using the second bedroom in the motorhome to sleep his trainer suddenly felt anything but ideal. 

He seriously needed to listen to you more often. 

“Baby,” George huffed out, his breathy words drowned out by a gust of wind that had the rain pelting down on the roof a little harder.

Your fingers pulled at his shirt, head lifting to chase his lips again. You knew you were being needy but you also knew how weak it got him when you were. So much so that he didn’t so much as offer an argument and, instead, tilted his face back down to lean in just as eagerly and lock your lips with his in a passionate, hungry kiss. 

The sounds of your kisses danced with the sounds of the rain all around you, growing needier and sloppier as George faced his losing battle. His hand came up to cradle your cheek, pulling away from your kiss to rest his forehead against yours for a moment to breathe. Your fingers wrapped around his wrist. 

“Do you promise to be quiet?”

His voice had lowered, coming out as a thrilling rumble from his chest that proved to you that you had him right where you wanted him. 

“Yes, sir.” you purred, scratching your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck. 

His nose brushed against yours as his lips sought out yours in the darkened room for one more kiss, or two, or three, before he was untangling your leg from around his waist with a husky, “Turn over for me.”

You shuffled yourself around under the sheets to face away from him with a giddy smile, right away wiggling back against him until your bodies moulded together like who halves of a whole. It was apparent just how into it he was with the feeling of the stiff tent in his underwear pressing right up against your ass; his hesitant words had been abandoned by his body. George groaned lightly against your shoulder, leaving a kiss to the same spot while his arm dropped between you to arrange himself. 

Your hand followed too, reaching behind you to rub your palm over his erection, palming him strongly through the thin fabric of his boxers. 

George’s arm tightened around your waist, locking you close to him as you touched him and he groaned against your cheek, words thick, “You’re a bloody tease, you know that, eh?”

“How am I the tease when you’re the one trying to deny me what I want?” you muttered back, already feeling hazy with lust while your hand slipped under the waistband of his boxers to touch him properly. “So many excuses.”

“Mm,” his lips brushed against your jaw, his fingers ghosting over your thigh under the sheets until he guided your leg up towards your chest, “did you forget who’s in charge, little one?”

You withered at his words and the feeling of his open mouthed kiss to the spot where your jaw and neck met, only making your mouth fall open as his slender fingers dragged along the thin fabric of your panties nestled between your legs. Your hand wrapped around his hardening dick, giving him a few messy strokes the best you could whilst facing away from him. 

“The only way this is going to work,” George breathed against your ear in a tone that had butterflies filling your stomach, his fingers pulling the fabric of your panties to the side so he could blindly caress your pussy under the sheets, “is if you do what I say and stay perfectly quiet. Can you do that for me, pretty girl?”

A tiny moan slipped from your lips but you nodded in response, turning your head to the side in need for more of him. He obliged and propped himself up on one arm a little more so he could lean down to kiss you over your shoulder, his fingers still toying with your pussy. You used his kiss as a way to muffle your little content sounds and since you were so gentle with your noises, he didn’t tell you off. Besides, you sounded far too pretty like that to warrant a scolding. 

“That’s my girl.” George purred against the corner of your mouth as your kiss broke, his fingers slicking up in your dripping wetness that pooled between your legs, “My messy, needy girl.”

Your top leg was bent up towards your chest at a ninety-degree angle to your body to keep you nice and spread open for his fingers, making it easy for him to touch you as he pleased. You took your hand from his dick to raise to the side of his face instead, pulling his lips back on yours as he blindly shoved down the front of his underwear under the sheets. 

His other arm was tucked under your neck and wrapped around your front, one hand naturally finding one of your breasts and he gave it a greedy squeeze as he kissed you sloppily over your shoulder. You pushed your ass back into him, sharing small groans into each other’s mouths as the warm shaft of his cock nudged between your cheeks. 

“Fuck, baby,” George panted as he broke away from your lips, his breath hot against your ear, “be a good girl for me and stay nice and quiet, yeah?”

You reached a hand back to pull at the flesh of your ass to try and hold yourself open for him as he got himself situated behind you. He dusted a kiss to your earlobe in silent thanks while his hand between your bodies angles the head of his dick against your cunt. Your teeth sunk into your bottom lip in anticipation, waiting for it, but then he just slid it forward to smear between your legs and right to your clit. 

George chuckled lowly against your ear as he pulled back a little to do it again, basically just thrusting against you without getting inside you first, forcing you to just feel how hard he was between your legs and unable to do anything about it. Your teeth pressed harder into your bottom lip, holding back a tiny displeased groan as you ached with need for him. 

Before you could protest, he pulled back again and, with the next press forward, he was slipping inside you slowly but surely. Your breath caught in your chest as he stretched you out on his cock, his hand flying to grab your hip as he sunk deeper into you. He let out a wavering moan against your neck that was almost too loud and you turned over your shoulder again to pull his lips back on yours. 

Right away, he started to rock into you at a steady pace in slow curling thrusts, not thinking much of it apart from letting your humanistic drive lead you. George’s fingers pinched your nipple through your t-shirt, earning a whine out of you into his mouth and he took that opportunity to lick across your bottom lip. 

Despite having kissed half the night, they never moved past the point of innocent; tender and closed-mouthed. Now, as the heat rose between you, he was eager to get more out of you. You gladly opened up for him and let his tongue push into your mouth between sensual kisses that matched the pace of his hips pushing into you. It was filthy; the sound of your kisses overpowering the flurry of rain on the roof of the motorhome, wet and hungry and lewd. 

George’s hand moved from your hip to wrap entirely around your middle, giving you a tug back against his chest and thus forcing his cock deeper inside you. You gasped sharply into his mouth, letting out with a muted groan as he ground his hips strongly against you. He held you tightly in both arms for a moment as he pushed deeply into you again and again, both of you just panting into each other’s open mouths. 

After a moment, George’s hand slid across your stomach and under your thigh to lift your leg up a little more, spreading you open under the sheets as he adjusted his position behind you to start to drive a little faster into you. You gaped dumbly into the darkened bedroom at the warm fullness he offered you, giving you every inch of him in firm succession. And he was so hard…you were nearly salivating, mouthing a silent “fuck” to the room. 

“Such a good listener, aren’t you, baby?” George cooed against your ear, “But we’re just getting started. I’m gonna get a little rougher with you and you’re gonna stay so quiet for me, yeah?”

“Please.” you huffed out.

George kept his hand under your thigh to keep your leg up as he started to shove into you a little harder, letting out a faint grunt against your neck in the process.

You couldn’t help the soft squeal that slipped from your lips, your hand splaying across the mattress to grasp onto the fitted sheet to try and ground yourself. George hushed you against your ear, fucking you firmly under the luxury linen sheets with your leg still held up and slightly tenting the duvet. 

“Oh my God.” you squeaked, eyes screwed shut. 

“Shhh.” George lifted his hand from your chest to press against your mouth, taunting hotly against the shell of your ear, “You don’t want Aleix to hear, do you?”

You whimpered against his palm.

“No, we don’t.” he cooed, shoving into you a little harder as if he were trying to make it difficult for you, “Naughty fucking girl, aren’t you? Insatiable little slut.”

You cried out his name against his palm still clamped over your mouth, your fingers grasping his wrist tightly as if wanting to pull him away. George slowed for a second, grinding deeply into you to push another withering moan from your mouth while he arranged himself behind you again, situating into a better position so he could get back to those precise thrusts. 

You couldn’t help the shriek that fell from your mouth and into the palm of his hand, forcing him to pull your head back against his shoulder with a firm hush against your ear. He drove into you in quick succession, ramming right against your g-spot until your eyes were nearly rolling, stumbling out hungry moans against his palm. 

If it wasn’t your uncontrollable sounds that might have given you away, the lewd clap of his skin against yours would certainly do it. George had to slow himself down a little, fingers pressing into the flesh of your thigh to arrange the two of you a little to find an angle that minimized the sound. Once he was back at it, you were clawing at his hand still clamped over your mouth. 

“Shh, you’re getting loud.” he whispered sternly without faltering his movements for a moment, his breath hot against your neck as the temperature rose under the sheets and duvet. 

You couldn’t help the sounds you let out as he nearly fucked the moans from your chest, so delicious and dizzying. You turned away from his hand to press your face into your pillow instead, smothering yourself into it while your fingers bunched at the sheets. His pace was mouth-wateringly good with his hands all over you; groping your breasts and grabbing your thigh and his soft lips trailed hot, wet kisses up your neck and he nibbled at your earlobe. Your entire body was trembling under his touch, especially as you tried to hold yourself back. 

Your hands tugged at the sheets, trying to pull them towards your face, pressing them against your mouth in fistfulls to try and keep yourself quiet, dampening the expensive white linen in pleasurable tears and drool. Even still, you kept your back arched a little just so George could have perfect access to you and he could give you every last inch unobstructed. 

“Jesus, you’re incredible…” he panted, his voice thick and strained with pleasure of his own, “The way you take my cock…fuck.”

As the warmth rose inside you, reaching every nerve ending in your body, you were torn between wanting it all and having to keep yourself quiet. It was growing increasingly difficult by the second as George’s firm pace drew you closer to an orgasm at an impressive rate. The overwhelm coiled within you, aching for him, barely able to think a coherent thought as the moans and gasps fell from your lips and into the sheets you held clutched in your hands.

Desperately wanting to be quiet so as to not face the embarrassment of facing Aleix tomorrow morning, your body started to try and squirm away from your boyfriend as if pleading for some sort of mercy. Your head turned farther into the pillow beneath you and your shoulders followed as if you were subconsciously trying to turn away from him to keep yourself composed for even a second. 

But George wasn’t to be warned off that easily and even as you pulled your leg from his snug grip on your thigh to stretch it across the mattress as your hips tried to turn away next, he followed right after you. His body covered yours as you rolled yourself flat onto your stomach, arms encircling your pillow that you helplessly drooled onto while he kept giving you such perfect firm thrusts you swore you were seeing stars right through the cloudy nighttime sky. 

“Fuck-” you groaned out into the down filled pillow, elongating the word dreamily. 

“Mhm… that’s it.” George whispered from over top of you, resting his forearms on either side of your head and folded arms so his lips could brush against your ear. His hips snapped against yours in firm strokes that had both of you wearing the same raw expression of pleasure into the darkened room. 

The sheets were a tangled mess over the two of you, shielding your filthy late night rendezvous from the privacy of your rented bedroom and falling low across George’s lower back as he moved on top of you. The decency of the sheets were the least of his concern at that moment as he kept giving you what you wanted, his body pressed right down on yours, pinning you underneath him. Then, he slipped one hand under your hips and weaseled it down between your legs, blindly getting his fingers on you to start to rub messily at your clit.

“Fuck, George-” you whimpered into the pillow, knuckles turning white from how tightly you gripped it in your arms, voice rising in pitch, words muffled. 

He groaned lowly against your neck, almost as if he were struggling to keep himself quiet now. 

“You’re gonna have to cum without making any noise.” he told you lowly, his breath hot against the shell of your ear, panting. 

The bed rocked faintly under the force of his precise thrusts, getting so deep inside you and grazing your g-spot over and over with his three fingers trapped under your body and rubbing mercilessly at your clit. Your eyes were rolling back in your head, eyelashes fluttering, drooly lips dampening the pillowcase your mouth was pressed into. He had you entirely surrounded; body and soul. 

“Think you can be a good girl and do that for me? Not a sound.” 

You could barely choke out a, “Yes, sir.”

“Yeah?” he kept shoving strongly into you, getting slightly faster as he, too, felt that rising pleasure coiling deep within him. He spoke in a hushed tone against your ear, sending shivers down your neck, “If you’re a good girl and don’t make a peep, I’ll reward you with a nice big load deep inside you. You want that?”

“Uh huh-” you cried out into the pillow, barely able to understand anything he was saying you were so far gone. Naturally, your hips raised up a little to try and feel as much of him as possible no matter how much he had you pinned underneath his body weight. 

“Yeah? Want me to cum inside you, baby?” he purred, his voice barely more than a whisper. 

“Ugh, please.” you moaned, muffled by the pillow and sheets, face pressed firmly into the linen. 

Your hand flew out to slam against the built in headboard to anchor yourself on something, writhing against the mattress and his hand that was still stuffed between your legs. You were a moaning mess and desperately tried to use the pillow to keep yourself quiet as the euphoria ramped up strongly within you, burning heat. 

“That’s it, baby.” George praised through his teeth, still fucking into you strongly despite the way your body started to clench down around him, “Shh, shh, that’s it. Fuck, that’s it.”

His voice was handsomely strained, face contorted in beautiful pleasure tied in with proud satisfaction as he made you cum underneath him. With his hand that wasn’t busy between your legs, he pressed his palm against the back of your neck to keep you in the pillow to make sure no excess sounds would escape you as you cried out for him through your orgasm, muffling your chanted ‘yeses’ as he took you over. 

“Good girl. Good fucking girl.” he groaned lowly. 

With a few more thrusts, he was coming hard inside you, giving you a few more shoves to make sure he was as deep as he could get. His jaw clenched and long lashes fluttering, he moaned softly, beautifully, through the sticky warm air of the bedroom. You pushed your hips up to wiggle your ass back on him a little, milking him dry just a little more until he was entirely spent. 

George pressed a kiss to your shoulder and then sat back on his haunches, letting the sheets fall off his flushed body as his hands trailed down your curves and over the fabric of your shirt that was now slightly damp with sweat. He gripped your hips and eased you back flat onto your stomach so he could pull out slowly, his hungry eyes staring between you as he left you empty and gaping.

You turned your head out of the pillow to gasp for air as he pulled out, letting him adjust your panties back into place before he was tucking himself back into his boxers and flopping into his spot beside you. His sigh didn’t go unnoticed and you blinked at him like that for a moment, a proud and pleasured smile starting to form across your lips, before you reached a hand out to rest against his chest and his rapidly beating heart. 

George lolled his head to the side to meet your gaze and set his hand over yours. You stared at each other for a moment before he leaned in to softly kiss your lips, sharing a few lingering kisses between heavy breaths. When he pulled away, he rested his head on the pillow right with you so your noses were almost touching; both of you much preferring the comfort of each other’s personal space - especially after nights like that. 

With a sigh, George grumbled begrudgingly as if hating to admit that you were ever right in the first place, “We’re getting a hotel room tomorrow night, I don’t care.”

♡ None of the original writing on this blog may be reproduced, reposted, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author.

[midnightzonzz]

Peaks of Pruriency (gr63 + aa23 + lmh)

↳ A/N This one has been in the works for months...it feels like a relief that it's finally finished!! I literally lost friends over the mere concept of this fic so please enjoy lmao

↳ Summary: As the winter break is nearing its end, you and George escape to a winter wonderland with your two best friends. Nestled in the privacy of the Swiss Alps, the four of you push the boundaries of friendship for just one night.

↳ Pairings: George Russell x Girlfriend!Reader x Best!Friend!Alex Albon x Lily Muni He (NO use of y/n)

↳ Word Count: 18.9k

↳ Warnings: 18+, smut, they become soft swap swingers for a night, mmff foursome/orgy/whatever, unprotected sex (but only with their partner!), drinking, voyeurism, exhibitionism, mlm and wlw moments, oral sex (m and f receiving), fingering, hair pulling, some spanking, some dirty talk, praise, Alex offering lowkey cringe comments sometimes <3.

The Swiss Alps stood in breathtaking magnificence. For as far as the eye could see, their snow-covered peaks stretched endlessly into the horizon, where they melted into the soft blur of winter haze. Lush coniferous forests clung to the slopes in meticulous dots of deep green against pristine white, bathed under an endless blue sky and bright winter sun that shone down in rays of radiance. The air was crisper, fresher, up there, carrying with it the chilly bite of the winter breeze and the unmistakable scent of snow. It filled your lungs with a freshness that awakened the senses; a raw reminder of Mother Nature's untouched splendor, far removed from the taint of humanity. A setting like that made it easy to appreciate the true grandness of the Earth, making you feel immensely small and isolated in the natural embrace of the Swiss mountains. 

In the Southern point of Switzerland, not far from the borders of France and Italy, the town of Verbier was nestled in the valley of the impressive Mont Fort. The shadows of the highest mountain peak protected the town from the east, framing it with its glaciers and that most breathtaking views for its many adventurous tourists. Verbier, with its wood buildings crammed in between the snowy landscape, looked not much different from a Christmas model town from the higher elevation. It thrived off tourism for its breathtaking views, elite ski resorts, and luxurious chalets and spas. In contrast to the monumental mountain range it was built within, the quaintness of the town made you feel bigger than yourself.

Verbier was a getaway for the privileged, for those who had no problem spending money. The modest sixty-grand that your boyfriend and his best friend dished out for a week in a private chalet ranked them among that very group of people Verbier was marketed towards. Not far away from the bustling winter town, the luxury chalet was perched high on the mountainside overlooking the snow dusted roofs. Its staggered four-storeys stretched up the mountainside in frames of thick timber logs and protected with thick wood shingles and wide eaves that upheld heavy blankets of crisp white snow.

Nightfall turned the valley into a sea of stars. The warm lights from the town shone from the cozy buildings and the lamps lining the narrow streets carved paths of illumination through the map of the town. The ski lifts were quiet by then, visitors retiring to an early night or a luxury spa treatment after a full day on the slopes, the brave few visiting Verbier’s pubs and nightlife. Up on the mountainside, your chalet was a sanctuary of calm, closed off from the town and already shut away for the night. 

In one of the first-floor bedrooms, you and George had long since gone to bed. Yet, despite the closed door and darkened lights, sleep was far from either of you. Entwined beneath the thick duvet and a luxurious faux fur throw in shades of brown and ivory, you were grateful for the warmth after a day spent in the snow. You felt entirely surrounded by the down-filled pillows, almost entirely sunken into them and the plush mattress, with George half on top of you and his lips locked with yours. 

You couldn’t quite tell where he ended and where you began, such a tangle of limbs under the heavy blankets, but that was how you liked it. The only sound in the quiet room was your shared kisses, sloppy and languid, and the faint rustle of sheets as your wandering hands pathed each other’s familiar bodies. George’s fingers were between your legs, two nestled inside you down to the second knuckle, curling and uncurling steadily in lazy strokes, just enough to keep you warm and incredibly stimulated. 

When you broke away from his lips with a slight tilt back of your head and a soft whine, his eyes fluttered open to stare down at you. Even in the darkened chalet bedroom, your eyes had adjusted enough to see his handsome features in your close proximity down to his kiss-swollen lips and the slight raise of his eyebrows as he watched the gentle pleasure spread across your expression. His fingers kept going, curling a little stronger inside you, while the blankets muffled the sounds of your wet cunt taking his generous invasion. 

You just stared at each other for a moment, breathing into each other’s mouths as he fingered you. His skin was warm and firm under your hands as you caressed his shoulders and his back, kneading his muscles under your icy fingertips that you felt as though would never return to normal temperature after your afternoon on the slopes. George dipped down to kiss along your jaw, encouraging your head to tilt back a little more to give him room to move down your neck. 

With a soft hum, your eyes fluttered closed, arching into him a little as his fingers and his lips had you writhing a little under both him and the sheets. George trailed slow open-mouthed kisses down your neck, knowing better than to leave marks unless you wanted to face a barrage of teasing from your friends the next morning around the breakfast table. Instead, he kissed and licked along all your most sensitive spots, right up under your ear, pulling another soft moan from your mouth that you smothered behind a bitten lip. 

It felt as though the world was only the two of you, shut away in the comfort of the luxury chalet bed and linens, wrapped up in each other and protected from the snowy mountains beyond the cabin walls. But, in a moment, your silence was interrupted by a soft, quivering noise, just shy of a cry, filtered through the thin drywall. 

George’s fingers stilled inside you and you both paused, ears alert. 

His lips broke away from your neck and you both glanced towards the wall that joined your bedroom with that of your friends. There was another muffled sound from the other side, followed by the faintest of hushes. You and George looked at each other and, at the same time, shared a small snort in amusement at what you overheard.

“Looks like we’re not the only ones warming up.” he whispered playfully.

You squeezed his bicep with a breathy chuckle, “Hush.”

George and Alex had been best friends for longer than they hadn’t. Outside the Formula 1 season, they were, without question, each other’s only choice of driver to spend extra time with. So naturally, there was no hesitation when deciding to spend a week in a remote town in the Swiss Alps together. The fact that they got along with each other’s partners—you and Lily, respectively—was just a bonus, making the trip a perfect double-date getaway.

The four of you were virtually inseparable throughout the trip; tackling the ski slopes together, partaking in winter activities in town, or watching movies in the chalet theatre room. Not to mention every meal was catered by a hired chef so all meals were also spent as a group at the sizable dining table with views of the town of Verbier and the snowy mountain range beyond. 

It was always so much fun to spend time with Alex and Lily, and especially so when you traveled with them. Despite their high ranked careers in Formula 1 and golf, respectfully, they were genuine, kind, down-to-earth people who were just as quirky and charming as anyone you might have met at university. Alex with his lanky awkwardness and infectious grin and bad jokes and Lily with her graceful likability and distinctive style and endearing cleverness and sass. Although they were George’s friends first, they quickly became yours too. 

No matter how close you were with them, how many taboo jokes were shared or innuendos were hinted at, you never had, of course, ever even thought of them having sex until that night when the sounds leaked through the shared wall into your bedroom. Staring into George’s eyes as you both stayed absolutely still—not necessarily wanting to overhear and yet being forced to overhear—a chill of realization ripped through you like you had been dunked in a snowbank. 

George, who had known them—known Alex—far longer than you had, and more than likely had accidentally overheard such things on more than one occasion, simply chuckled. With a playful disbelieving shake of his head and a slight shift at your side, he so easily brushed it off with a, “Anyway, where were we?”

Your arm slid farther around his shoulders as he leaned in to kiss you again. You captured his lips with yours, accepting his tongue in your mouth almost right away and yours pushed back against his needily. He still tasted minty fresh from when he brushed his teeth before bed but it was fading away into your lust, your tongue taking every last bit of it. George’s fingers started to move again, curling a little more insistently inside you, and he swallowed up your soft moans with his skillful tongue. 

After a moment, his fingers slowed and then eased out of you and he reached his hand up as he broke away from your kiss to slide his fingers in his mouth. You watched him with heavy-lidded eyes as he licked your arousal off his two digits like it was no big deal and he pulled them from his swollen lips with a greedy pop. He licked his lips and then untangled himself from you before entirely climbing out of bed. 

You adjusted yourself against the pillows as he fetched a condom from his suitcase on the floor of the bedroom, your eyes drawn to his lean and muscular body and the way his snug underwear was tented by his obvious erection. In the background of your silence, your attention was pulled back to the adjacent room and the faint sounds that leaked through the drywall. You nibbled at your bottom lip, trying your damnedest not to blatantly listen. 

A condom packet was torn from the row with a satisfying rip.

George was back in bed with you in no time, positioning on top of you with his knees between your spread legs, and the blankets pooled behind him and over your shins. The heat of the cabin was working hard against the iciness of the winter air outside the timber walls, leaving a slight chill in the air, and you and George pulled up the blankets around you both again as he leaned over you. He rested on one forearm beside your head with your legs bent up and out slightly over his thighs as he angled the head of his cock against your messy pussy with his other hand. 

Your boyfriend pushed into you slowly, just getting the tip in, before meeting your gaze as he pulled his hand out of the sheets to lace with yours beside your head with a contented sigh. As you both settled into position, the creak of the bed and rustle of the sheets quieted, leaving the silence of your mirrored breaths in the room…and the muted sounds through the wall. The dull thunk, thunk, thunk from the adjacent bedroom had your teeth sinking into your bottom lip as you stared up into George’s eyes. Then, your attention drifted past him to the wall. 

As if reading your mind or sensing your hesitation, George checked in with you in a whisper, “Is it distracting? We can stop.”

“No,” you replied casually, looking back up at him, “no, it’s okay.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah,” it was out of your mouth before you could really think ahead about the implications of what your confession might mean, “it’s kinda hot.” 

His momentarily furrowed expression melted away into an amused smirk and his chuckle fell against your cheek, “You’re crazy, darling.”

“What?” you giggled, the faint sound halting in your throat as he sunk deeper into you, barely allowing you to follow it up with a, “Is it not?”

“Hearing our friends have sex?” George clarified with a voice slightly hoarse as he enveloped himself inside you. Through the wall, the faintest of breaths and sounds could be heard behind the creaking of the bed as it thudded dully against the wall. In his momentary thought, as if driven by the natural instinct, his hips jumped against yours a little and he let out a shaky sigh against your cheek, relenting with a stiff and honest, “Yeah…kinda. Kinda sets the mood.”

You laughed breathily and he joined in, soft and quiet, and easily cut off by another shared kiss.

In the morning, when the four of you reconvened at the breakfast table, you and George played coy. It would arguably be weirder if you confessed to hearing them the night before, and to actually still having sex while actively listening, so you kept quiet for the sake of everyone’s dignity. The chalet’s private chef brought out platters of breakfast for the four of you around the large dining table fit for ten, lining them up down the runner and letting you take whatever servings you pleased. 

You and George sat on one side of the table, your backs to the mountainous landscape behind the large paned windows, a fresh blanket of snow falling steady from the grey sky. Alex and Lily sat across from you, chatting to your group about possible plans for the day as they served themselves some of the delicious breakfast spread. 

You were quieter than normal, perhaps due to the things you had overheard the night before, desperate to not make it awkward and yet somehow feeling incredibly awkward. George filled the airtime for the both of you, sharing in casual conversation with your friends like nothing had happened, like he hadn’t fucked you to the sounds of them getting off in the adjacent room. He was so calm about it, so casual, so easy to act like everything was normal. He accepted the plate of fruit from Alex with thanks. 

George served himself some fruit and then took it upon himself to serve you some of your favourites without asking, all while still keeping the conversation going. He then set his hand on your knee under the table in silent reassurance, luring you into the conversation with the comfort of his presence.

Since the day before was spent on the slopes, it seemed the group was in agreement to stay and enjoy the amenities of the chalet for at least part of the day. The walkout basement was a fully fitted spa with a jacuzzi, sizable heated pool, sauna, and steam room framed with a full wall of glass overlooking the mountainside. No expenses spared on the week-long getaway. Lounge chairs were lined up by the modest pool over heated tile floors, luxury towels meticulously rolled on each one. 

As the four of you settled into the spa after breakfast that morning, you could still feel that strangeness lingering over your head like a snow cloud. The fluffy flakes floated to the ground outside the chalet while the four of you stayed warm in the sauna, towels over laps and bathing suits still damp from the jacuzzi and the pool, a couple against either wall. 

Alex’s arm was around Lily's shoulders but the cramped space meant his knee was almost touching George’s on perpendicular benches. George was always more of a soft spoken person but Alex brought out the rambunctiousness in him, meaning the two of them ended up filling the sauna with their almost shouting voices as they argued about some memory they shared. 

You and Lily could only watch in amusement, looking between the two men like a tennis match. Soon, however, your focus on their words shifted to a focus on them. George wasn’t new to you, of course, and you were very familiar with him being shirtless around you; you basically had his entire body memorized by sight and touch. Everything from his broad shoulders and sculpted chest and abs that your fingers and lips always itched to trace, the thin line of hair stretching down from his navel disappearing beneath the towel draped over his lap.

And then there was Alex, similar in stature to your boyfriend, just as lean and fit. You had never paid much attention to Alex—why would you when you were dating his best friend?—but you caught yourself suddenly staring a little too long. He had filled out over the years, just as George had, both growing up and growing out and finding themselves. They complimented each other so well. Alex was certainly not a bad thing to look at and suddenly you just really couldn’t shake the strange mindset you had been in since the night before. It was as if overhearing such things had you looking at your friends in a new and unfamiliar light. When have you ever ogled Alex Albon in such ways?!

So you looked to Lily instead while the men rambled on. Tucked under her boyfriend’s arm, she sent you a friendly smile and a pointed glance as if to say ‘these two are always bickering, aren’t they’ before looking back towards them. You leaned closer to George and he instinctively set his hand on your knee without taking his attention away to the conversation with his best friend. 

Guilt ate at you to admit it but Lily was catching your gaze too, hair tucked behind her ears so casually, just sat there in her frilly white bikini with her skin a little darker from the rise of heat in the sauna. Your eyes kept drifting to the small bruise just under her collarbone, an unmistakable hickey that hadn’t been there the day before, barely hidden by the strap of her bikini top. The joys of being surrounded by professional athletes in such a location, pulling your gaze over lines of muscle and defined maps of exposed skin. 

You needed to seriously cleanse your mind before it got you into trouble and made this whole holiday awkward. 

The sun had long since set over Switzerland, plunging the mountain range into star-studded darkness at merely 5:00. In the protection of the chalet, the stone clad fireplace crackled with burning logs and glimmering embers in the corner of the living room, keeping both the living and dining spaces warm against the dark snowy backdrop beyond the large paned windows. There was a sense of perfect isolation there, hidden away on the mountain side all alone with nothing but darkness stretching far down into the valley where the town lay. 

Dinner that evening was charged with something unspoken but very present. The four of you sat at your usual spots around the large dining table with the hired chef bringing course after fancy course to the place settings. At one point you were sure you had seen more courses than you would if you were dining with the damn queen; but at least you were getting your money's worth. Conversation rolled easily between the small group of you despite the uncertainty that lingered in the back of your own mind but you played it off almost expertly. 

Once dinner was completed and the chef tidied up the kitchen and disappeared into the snowy landscape to return home, the chalet was back to being just the four of you. There was a moment of normalcy as you drifted from the dining room to the living room and settled on the large L-shape sectional sofa by the crackling fire. Alex brought over two bottles of wine and George followed with some glasses, setting them on the live wood coffee table. 

The cork popped from one of the wine bottles as Alex manned the corkscrew, the sharp sound almost echoing through the peaked wood ceilings of the open living space. He poured the four glasses half full and set the bottle down on the table with the unopened one. You each took a glass and eased into the comfort of the sofa with your partner. George’s arm went around your shoulders habitually, his body turned a little towards yours and to face your two friends on the opposite side of the sectional. 

You drank and talked away the evening, letting the impressive dinner settle. The bit of alcohol helped to calm your mind and release a bit of your inhibitions, allowing you finally feel properly at ease for the first time for most of the day. George was right up close at your side, his arm tightening around your shoulders as he finished his first glass of wine and welcomed a second, always growing a little more touchy the more he drank. His fingers played along your shoulder or through the ends of your hair, lingering touches that reminded you that he was there. 

The four of you finished off the first bottle of wine and soon the second one was popped too, the dark red filling each glass again almost right to the brim. Giggles were rising amongst you, chatter growing a little louder, actions a little bit more ungraceful. Alex almost spilled some of his wine on the cream coloured sofa when he sat back down, earning an uproar from the other three of you to be careful. 

Lily fondly curled into Alex’s side, her legs draped over his and her smiling face nuzzled close. He, too, had his arm around his girl, holding her close by the heat of the fire. She chastised him playfully, “We can’t take you anywhere without you almost destroying the place.”

With his hand that wasn’t holding his glass, Alex gave her cheek a little pat in retaliation before he was dipping in to kiss her lips. You were sure it was only meant to be a brief response to her teasing but no sooner did his lips meet hers did she lift a hand up to keep him there a moment longer. You couldn’t keep your eyes off of them from the other side of the couch; a gorgeous couple. Maybe it was the alcohol but you were slowly starting to feel your heart beat harder. 

George shifted at your side, raising his glass of wine for another sip as he, too, watched your friends share that moment. You snuggled a little closer to him under his arm as if seeking out his comfort and your boyfriend pressed a kiss to your temple. After just a moment, your friends broke apart. 

Tucking her hair behind her ear, Lily apologized with a flush across her cheeks, having gotten a little carried away. Alex hid his smirk behind a sip of wine.

George simply shrugged cooly, breathing out a blasé, “Don’t let us stop you.”

The four of you stared at each other for a moment as if it were a stand off. George’s words hung in the air between you. The fireplace cracked in the corner. 

Then, Alex leaned forward to set his glass down on the coffee table and took hers to do the same with before leaning back into the couch with a casual ease. His voice was light with his gaze locked on his girlfriend, “Well, you heard him.”

Lily rolled her eyes, her lips curving into a smirk with her tone holding no real protest, “You’re terrible.”

Alex just offered a cheeky smile. There was another pause as if they were having a silent conversation just the two of them, weighing their options, how they wanted it to go. There was a slight pink to Lily’s cheeks and you wondered if it was from more than just the alcohol. You and George watched them; your heart was racing.

Without a word, she leaned in again towards her boyfriend who was still draped out comfortably on the couch. Their kiss started soft, tentative, brief; a testing of the waters. But then it lingered, deepening as Alex’s hand rose up to cradle her jaw, guiding her into their every movement like a practiced dance of their own. Lily sighed into him and shifted at his side to get a little closer, melting against his chest, easing into their little show. 

From your spot on the couch, you felt a rush of warmth creeping up your neck, equal parts fascination and something you couldn’t quite name—that same curious feeling from earlier that day swirling inside you. You glanced at George, his expression unreadable save for the faintest twitch of amusement at the corner of his lips.

“Well,” he murmured, leaning in close enough for his nose to graze your cheek and his breath to tickle your ear, “they seem to be having fun.”

His familiar voice carried an amused edge, laced with the faintest slur of alcohol that eased his meticulously poised persona, and when you glanced up at him, his eyes weren’t watching Alex and Lily anymore—they were on you. Your glass felt suddenly heavy in your hand. 

Your pulse quickened under his gaze, a flicker of something unspoken passing between you. A million thoughts clouded your mind, trying to figure out what you wanted to say, if there was anything to say

George seemed to know exactly what you were trying to ask without words, his thumb brushing against your shoulder and his eyes speaking volumes. But there was something else in his gaze, something unreadable that made your stomach flip and made you wonder if perhaps your own unspoken uncertainty from earlier in the day was actually mutually agreed upon.

Your focus moved back to your friends on the perpendicular section of the couch, still finding them caught in their kiss. It wasn’t hurried or frantic—it was deliberate, slow, as if they were savouring the moment in lieu of the audience around them. When Alex’s hand dropped from her face to slide along Lily’s thigh, she finally broke away, her breath a little uneven. Her cheeks were flushed and her lips glistened as she blinked herself back into the room with a small hum and a lick to her lips.

“Okay, that’s enough,” she muttered, though there was no real conviction in her voice, her hand falling gently against his chest to push some space between them.

Alex chuckled, still leaned back with a lazy smirk, the picture of smug satisfaction and clearly enjoying her embarrassment. His other hand ghosted up her spine and then pressed into her waist to try and draw her closer, taunting, “You say that, but I don’t think you mean it.”

“Shut up,” she lightly swatted his chest.

George’s soft breath of laughter was low and warm like firelight beside you, the simple sound sending shivers down your spine as it carried weight with it that you had never felt before. Your friends’ laughter felt distant, drowned out by the thrum of your own heartbeat and the presence of your boyfriend’s body right up beside yours.

George’s lips brushed against your temple again, lingering just long enough for you to notice. You instinctively leaned into his side, encouraging him to press another kiss to your temple as his arm tightened around you. His fingers danced over your shoulder and down your arm and back up, rising shivers in his wake as you burrowed closer to his side with a bashful smile and looked back over at Alex and Lily. Alex was already watching the two of you; his gaze curious and assessing, a surprising seriousness laced in with his playful demeanor. He didn’t say a word. 

Lily must have noticed too because she nudged him with her elbow, playful but with a hint of suspicion, “What?” 

Alex only grinned, his charismatic smile taking up most of his face, and he raised his hands in mock innocence, “Nothing. Just...thinking.”

“Uh-huh.” Lily’s eyes narrowed, her teeth sinking into her smiling bottom lip as she leaned her head against his shoulder.

“So,” Alex said, his voice cutting through the momentarily stillness that filled the room, leaning forward to pour himself another glass of wine, his movement unhurried, before sinking back into the couch cushions with his refilled glass cradled in two hands, “are we just going to sit here pretending nothing’s happening, or...?”

Lily’s cheeks flushed again. In a tone half-scolding, half-laughing, she hissed out a lighthearted, “Alex.”

But his question hung in the air between the group of you, bold and unapologetic. Truly, he spoke what you all had been thinking—especially what you had been thinking since the night before. You felt George’s hand tighten slightly around you, a subtle reaction that sent a shiver down your spine. Every action, every word felt so heavy.

“What?” Alex tilted his head innocently, though his shit-eating grin betrayed him, “I’m just saying. We’re all friends here, aren’t we?”

George’s low chuckle rumbled beside you, his voice smooth and measured and tinged with an undeniable tone of intrigue, “We are.”

Everyone seemed to look at you next, gauging your uncharacteristically silent presence and waiting to see how you would respond; this was uncharted territory for all four of you. Your attention was focused on your boyfriend, finding yourself grounded in his comforting presence and the security of his arm around your shoulders. His hand rubbed reassuringly over your shoulder. 

In a voice low enough to only be heard by you, George spoke right to you, “Tell me if you want to stop…if this is too much.”

Your words had abandoned you, only allowing you to manage a faint shake of your head that he barely caught. He caught it, though, and his lips pricked up ever so slightly at the corner. George’s hand slid from your shoulder down to your waist and he pulled you a little closer on the couch while his lips brushed against the edge of your jaw.

Across the couch, Alex and Lily had shifted closer together once more, leaving you to your decision making. Alex’s hand rested at the back of Lily’s neck with his fingers tangling in her hair as he kissed her again, this time with no effort to hide how much he wanted her. Lily sighed quietly as her hand settled against Alex’s shoulder to steady herself as she leaned over him resting back on the couch, their kiss deepening. The sound was soft, intimate, and it stirred something in the pit of your stomach, your lips parting as if taken by a moment of awe as you watched them while your boyfriend nosed at your neck and your ear. 

George pulled away from you and ghosted a kiss to the line of your jaw, his long lashes fluttering against your face, a silent acknowledgment that he, too, was caught in the moment. You spoke his name in a breath, barely audible, your eyes feeling heavy with lust. 

His thumb traced over your bottom lip, his large hand caressing your face, turning you towards him so he could kiss you with deliberate slowness. Every time he kissed you it made your head spin, capturing your lips with his in the sweetest kisses that poured every ounce of his need into you. He tasted like wine and something distinctly him, and the way he tilted his head to so easily deepen the kiss had your stomach swirling with butterflies.

The clink of a wine glass being set on the coffee table had you breaking away from George and glancing over to find Alex and Lily watching you now, their expressions caught somewhere between curiosity and amusement. Their glasses had been set aside to give them their hands free, bodies pressed up close together on the couch, her legs still slotted between his. 

“Well,” Alex said, leaning back against the couch with a satisfied grin, giving his girlfriend’s thigh a pat, “Looks like we’re not the only ones feeling the wine tonight.”

George’s arm stayed firmly around your waist, holding you into his side, his thumb brushing soothing circles along your hip over the fabric of your shirt. “Guess not,” he said without looking away from you, his tone cool and confident.

You swallowed hard, unsure whether to laugh or sink into the cushions and hide. The weight of their gazes, combined with the lingering warmth of George’s kiss still tingling on your lips, left you feeling exposed in a way that was strangely exhilarating. George both of your wine glasses on the coffee table before returning to your side. You snuggled up with him on the couch and his fingers traced your jaw and your chin and then gently tilted your face towards his so he could ghost his lips over yours tauntingly before kissing you languidly. Your eyes fluttered shut as you melted into his kiss.

Alex and Lily were still tangled together on their section of the couch, their lips meeting in a fevered kiss now a bit more familiar with the close company. Lily’s hands had found the hem of Alex’s shirt, pushing it up slightly as Alex’s fingers traced down her back, urging her closer. Between your kisses with George, you glanced at them and your eyes were drawn to the flicker of Alex’s tanned skin, standing out beneath the navy of his t-shirt where Lily’s fingers itched to find more of her boyfriend. They were lost in each other, but their awareness of you and George was clear—they weren’t just part of their own moment; they were part of the experience, sharing in it with you, breathing life into this strange, electrifying energy with every kiss shared.

It was as though the world outside the chalet didn’t exist anymore, the boundaries between the four of you narrowing to the space within the cozy living room. The warmth of the fire and the wine added to the sensation, each touch, each kiss more intoxicating than the last. There were no more questions, no more hesitation. In the familiarity of the embrace of your lover, you each eased into the comfort that it brought and the trust stemming from the roots of your friendship.

With how subconsciously insistent you were to watch your friends make out, George took the opportunity to move his lips down your neck instead. His one hand cradled your chin and tilted your head a little to give himself room to drag his tongue over your skin and nip in all the right spots that made you shiver. Your fingers absentmindedly found their way to the front of his quarter-zip, grasping your fingers right over the embroidered Tommy Hilfiger logo on the left breast. Your attention, instead, was focused elsewhere. 

You noticed the way Alex and Lily's tongues met in a rhythm that spoke to their years of intimacy. Their lips moved with a practiced ease, a harmony you recognized in your own shared connection with George—though they had a few more years of experience on the two of you. It was almost completely enchanting to watch them and the way they moved, the way their bodies were tangled on the living room couch together like two pieces of a puzzle. 

George nipped at your neck, forcing a faint gasp out of you in surprise. He soothed it with his tongue and a soft breath before kissing back up under your ear and then sucking playfully at your earlobe. You had one arm tossed around his shoulders and your other still clutching the front of your boyfriend’s sweater, both of you keeping each other comfortably close. You tilted your head back a little more, resting it against the back of the couch with your eyes still on your friends, exposing your neck for George to gently drag his teeth down the column of it.  

Just then, Lily’s hands pushed up the hem of Alex’s shirt again and he took the initiative to lift it up and over his head to discard it to the floor. Your teeth sunk into your bottom lip at the sight of his toned torso and gorgeous caramel skin, your fingers tightening on George’s sweater just a bit more. Lily’s hand looked so dainty on the vast expanse of Alex’s abs, tauntingly trailing up towards his chest and letting her fingertips swirl around his nipples as they shared sloppy kisses. Alex let out a small, pleasant groan into her mouth.

George’s hand on your waist tightened, drawing you closer to his body. He leaned in again, his lips brushing against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine, before he whispered with a voice rough and teasing, “I see you staring.”

You smiled softly, your heart racing at the feel of his breath on your skin as you turned your face to meet his, “I can’t help it.” 

Your lips brushed for just a moment before you kissed him again, slower this time, savouring the warmth of him, the taste of him, the familiarity of him. It was like a secret you shared, something unspoken that lingered in the air between you both. You shared in his open-mouthed kiss as his hand dropped to your lap and gave your thigh a squeeze. Instinctively, you parted your legs to invite him to touch you more and his hand caressed your thigh warmly, dipping inwards towards the seam of your pants just a little before easing away. He didn’t tease long before his fingers were pressing against your clothed cunt firmly, forcing a little sound to slip from your mouth and into his. 

You slid your hand down his chest towards his lap and blindly gave the front of his pants a gentle squeeze in return. He moaned faintly into your kiss and his fingers between your legs started to rub just a little more insistently. It was already starting to make your breaths fall a little shallower, just enough to allow him to slip his tongue into your mouth. You pushed yours back against his, deepening your kisses a little more as your hand palmed him through the fabric of his lounge pants. 

A voice tore you from your moment, low and sincere and tinged with a hint of curiosity, “You two look so good together.”

You and George broke apart to glance over at your friends where Lily was already staring back at you with her shirt missing and a coy little smirk on her pretty face. Alex was kissing her neck and his hand was buried down the front of her unbuttoned slacks, the lump beneath the fabric moving stiffly. 

You answered her in an easy breath, “So do you.”

When you glanced at your boyfriend again to gauge his reaction, he was staring at Alex’s hand down the front of Lily’s pants, his kiss-swollen lips taken between his teeth in an absentminded bite. You leaned up to kiss along his jaw and slid your hand inside his pants next, pulling a withering moan from your boyfriend’s chest as you palmed his stiffening cock in your warm hand. 

George’s face turned to yours and your lips captured each other’s in a sloppy kiss and you could already feel your insides stirring with anticipatory pleasure. Across the room, Alex pulled Lily into his lap, her laughter muffled by another kiss as her fingers tangled in his hair and his hands tugged her impossibly closer by her hips. Not wanting to fall too behind, you removed your hand from George’s pants and then started to push up the bottom of his sweater. 

He helped you take it off of him before doing the same with your shirt, dropping both articles of clothing beside you on the couch without another look, his eyes far too busy raking down your body before his lips attached to your neck. Your hands slid over his broad shoulders and your eyes fluttered shut, basking in the feeling of his familiar kisses and the heat they stirred inside you. George’s careful fingers gently brushed the strap of your bra off your shoulder as his kisses trailed across your skin, rising shivers in his wake. 

You glanced back over to your friends as they had shifted to take off their trousers, leaving them both in just their under garments. Lily shifted off the couch and onto the rug in front of Alex, kissing her way down his abs while she caressed his thighs. With George still kissing his way along your neck and shoulder, your fingers tangled in the back of his hair and your other hand dropped back to the front of his lounge pants and helped itself to his growing erection that had started to tent the fabric. 

You had barely got your hand around the shape of it and he was already nearly mewling against your neck, hips shifting as if to push up against your touch for more blessed friction. As you palmed him strongly over the front of his pants, your attention stayed focused on your friends nearby and how Lily started to pull Alex’s underwear down his thighs. It felt so wrong to be witnessing it but, at the same time, with the unspoken trust that filled the four of you, it allowed the moment to feel just as intensely arousing. 

Lily was positioned in just the right place that you couldn’t see all of Alex but it didn’t take a genius to know that he was entirely nude on the couch the moment she dropped his underwear to the floor behind her. He stared down at her like she was the only thing in the room, his hands brushing through her short hair as she kissed over his thighs and then took him in her mouth. You could see the way his eyes fluttered at the feeling, his gaze focused downwards to watch her ministrations, lips parted slightly as if in awe. 

George kept kissing your neck, along your jaw, up to the corner of your mouth, needy and wanting attention—you knew his tells. So you turned your face towards him as his lips captured yours effortlessly and your hand moved from the front of his lounge pants to push at the waistband. He didn’t break away from your kiss as he shifted in place to push his pants down for you, both of you working together to toss them aside to give you free reign of rubbing your hand over the front of his briefs just to taste more moans from his lips. 

From the other side of the couch, you could hear the lewd sound of mouth and spit, the unmissable sound of a sloppy blowjob over the heaviness of Alex’s breaths. George’s arm around you nudged you up as if he, too, wanted to be given the same treatment. Who were you to complain?

You stood up from the couch in your bra and pants and with hands trembling with anticipation, you reached for the button at the front of your slacks. George’s hands joined yours and he leaned in to kiss over your belly and hips as his eyes raised to yours behind long lashes as he kissed your skin so tenderly and guided your pants down your legs. You kicked them to the side and—ever the gentleman—he dropped a decorative couch cushion to the floor so you could lower to your knees in front of him. 

It was a familiar spot for you to be and you linked your fingers in the waistband of his underwear to give them a tug and he lifted his hips so you could pull them down. You shared an eager smile with your boyfriend, his cheeks dusted a light pink that smeared down his neck and across his collarbones, and as his hand cradled your face in his hand, his thumb dragged across your bottom lip before dipping into your mouth. 

You sucked on it just enough to draw some saliva into your mouth while your hand blindly wrapped around his dick. George pulled his thumb from your mouth and as you lowered towards his lap, his hand tangled in the back of your hair to guide you in as he slouched back on the couch. Your hand pulled his foreskin back just enough to reveal the soft pink head of his cock and you dropped your tongue out to drag it along the slit, just enough to pull a shudder from him. When you wrapped your lips around him entirely, his hips naturally twitched up towards your mouth with a tight groan from his chest.

It was easy to fall back into that rhythm you so often found yourself in, a pace of twisting hand and eager mouth, tending to him with just the right amount of suction that you knew he liked. Salivating around him, you drooled past your lips enough to slick up your hand, gliding along the thick shaft of his cock in firm strokes. The sounds your mouth made were lewd as you bobbed your head into his lap, forcing him deeper into the wet confines of your mouth and teasing towards your throat. 

From only a metre or two away, your friends were facing the same thing, joining you in your erotic symphony of wet noises and heavy pleasured breaths. Despite your focus being on your boyfriend, you were all too aware of the presence of your friends so close by. There was no rush, no competition, just sharing the space and an unexpected night of lust with your most trusted. 

You pulled away from George just long enough to glance over towards your friends, your hand still snugly around your boyfriend’s cock and tongue lazily lapping at the tip, taking a second to watch how Alex looked when his girlfriend was taking him down her throat. Splayed across the couch with his arms draped lazily over the back, he was a shadowed vision of desire; his silhouette framed by the distant mountain town, its scattered lights glittering like stars strewn across the valley. And Lily, skin warm beneath the lights of the cozy living room lamps, knelt between his legs like she was right at home, her hair tucked behind her ears and head moving in consistent motions towards his lap. 

The feeling of George’s hand wrapping around yours had your attention turning back to him and with his other hand on the back of your head, he guided the head of his cock to smear over your lips, silently encouraging you to open up again. You did, fluttering your eyes up at his as he pulled you down on his cock and stuffed your mouth full. He groaned low in his throat when you took him in, staring down at you and the way your lips wrapped around him, his hand still tangled in the back of your hair while his other draped over the back of the couch. 

He had a better view than you did to your friends and George glanced over at them as you went down on him, being able to watch exactly how Lily tended to her boyfriend with hand and mouth. You could feel the way he twitched in your mouth at the sight of it—yet another added stimulus for the male gaze—and almost subconsciously his hand at the back of your head started to pull you into your motions as if to match the pace of your counterparts. You let him lead you for a bit before you took it upon yourself to push yourself deeper until your nose brushed against the coarse hair of his pelvis, the snugness of your throat causing his hand to tighten in your hair and his eyes to be drawn back down to you instead. 

“Yeah…” George exhaled in a dreamy breath, licking his lips at the sight of you between his spread legs, his hand keeping you down on him to feel how you gagged around his cock in your throat, “Fuck…”

You pulled off him after a second, coughing wetly, spit dripping thickly from your lips and connecting your mouth to the swollen head of his dick in lewd strings. George’s fingers scratched through the back of your hair, his eyes trained in on you and the way you spit loudly onto him, letting your hand smear it in with firm pumps. His head dropped back against the couch with a strangled groan before he was licking his lips and heaving his head up again as if he wanted to force himself to watch. 

“Love,” he mumbled, moving his hand from the back of your neck to wipe your spitty lips with the pad of his thumb, “maybe I should go grab some towels to put down.”

His concern for the well-being of your rental villa even in such a state brought an amused smile to your face and you kissed his thumb before sitting back on your haunches. You knew there would be no convincing him otherwise. 

Behind the muffled sounds of your friends still continuing their rendezvous only a few paces away, you asked him quietly, “Alright. And condoms?”

George hesitated for a moment, “I mean, it’s not like I’m planning on having sex with anyone other than you. Maybe we don’t need them tonight, what d’you think? Keep it easy?”

“Yeah. And I could take a Plan B tomorrow just in case,” you offered slyly.

He leaned down to kiss you in agreement and you smiled against his lips before he stood up and hurried off to the stairs in his nakedness. You watched his cute bum disappear from view from your spot on your knees in front of the couch, an eager smile on your face and your heart still racing in your chest. 

Then, you glanced over to your friends just as Lily had stood up between her boyfriend’s legs and Alex was skillfully unclasping her bra and pulling it down her arms. In a smooth motion, he scooped her up and deposited her lengthways along the one side of the sectional couch, making her pretty face break into a giggling smile. Her dark hair fanned out around her head like a halo on the cushion, slender arms draped angelically above her and right away his lips were pressing to her collarbones. 

It felt like the breaking of the fourth wall when she turned her head to look at you and when your eyes met, her content smile didn’t falter. Instead, she reached a hand out towards you and curled her finger to lure you closer. As if you were her puppet, you obeyed her direction, lifting yourself up from the floor to join her on the couch for a better view. 

Alex was unfazed by your closeness, too focused on kissing his way down his girlfriend’s body like a map he knew like the back of his hand. You watched him intently, a familiar stirring in your belly—lust, arousal, passion—teeth sinking into your bottom lip as his tongue trailed along the lacy hem of her panties, his big brown eyes batting up at her as if she was his puppeteer too. 

George returned just as Lily’s underwear were discarded to the floor and Alex was parting her legs like the sea. He tossed a towel at Alex with a casual, “Put this on the sofa. We don’t want to be charged for making a mess.”

“Classic George; always thinking of logistics even in the middle of an orgy,” Alex snorted at his best friend but did as suggested, spreading out the luxurious white towel beneath Lily as she lifted her hips to accommodate. 

“I don’t particularly want to pay the fee to replace the furniture,” George argued lightheartedly with no real heat behind his words. Certainly not when his attention was more so focused on the way Alex’s mouth gravitated along Lily’s inner thigh, their brief banter over the cleanliness of the sofa now long forgotten.

Then, after a beat, his eyes found yours.

He hadn’t missed where you were seated since he returned—now on the couch beside Lily, legs tucked modestly under you, trying not to fidget under the flush of heat blooming across your cheeks. His gaze dipped briefly to your mouth, your swollen lips still trapped between your teeth, then back up to your eyes. 

“Comfortable?” he asked, though the glint in his eye said he already knew the answer.

You tore your gaze away from your friends to stare up at your boyfriend and his gorgeous nakedness and you offered him a content smile and a nod. 

“You’re looking a little left out,” he commented smoothly.

And then he was sinking to his knees on the floor in front of you. George’s fingers only had to graze your ankle and you were unraveling yourself for him with ease, adjusting yourself to slouch back comfortably on the plush sofa while he linked his fingers in your underwear and guided them down your legs. 

You were much closer to your friends now—you and Lily both leaning against the same side of the couch, propped up on throw cushions behind you, with just enough space between you to be able to reach out a hand and touch each other. But you didn’t dare; at least not yet. For now, you were two pairs sharing the space, the comfort and trust of your closest friends in the most intimate of ways. Even still, it was unfamiliar, and you found yourself shyly closing your legs once George dropped your panties to the floor. 

His soft lips ghosted over your knee while his loving hands pried your thighs apart behind a reassuring bat of his eyes. You focused on him, the sight of his handsome face lowering between your legs backed only by the sounds of Lily’s panted breaths and Alex’s hungry mouth only an arm’s length away. George held onto your thighs and tugged you closer to the edge of the couch so he could drop his tongue out and drag it right up your cunt, his eyes raising to yours as he punctuated it with a wet kiss to your clit.

You shuddered at the feeling, dropping a hand down to rake your fingers through his soft hair and push it away from his face so you could see his pretty eyes staring up at you. Trying to get him right where you needed him, you shifted on the couch, nudging your pussy up towards his face a little more and he moved with you expertly, adjusting himself to your needs without a word. When he got his mouth on your clit at just the right angle, your jaw fell slack with a soft moan, head lazing against the back of the couch.

George hummed against your pussy, lapping sweetly at your clit and toying with your entrance with two teasing fingers. You just breathed, your chest rising and falling with the increase of pleasure, and after a moment, you tore your gaze away from your boyfriend nestled between your legs to look over at your friends. 

Alex was already looking at you with his face framed by Lily’s gloriously firm thighs, even his nose glistening at the tip with some of her wetness. The sight of his eyes on you made you shiver and your hand tightened in George’s hair. One particularly generous suckle from your boyfriend’s lips had your body tensing with a gasp before relaxing again, riding the steady waves of pleasure from his mouth. 

You stole another glance back over at your friends again but, this time, your attention was drawn to Lily. The two of you were draped out over either side of the sectional couch, propped up against the plentiful cushions in the corner and slouched towards each other. She had her hands on her chest, fingers rubbing and pinching her hardened nipples while her boyfriend found home between her legs. She was watching him intently—every movement of his mouth, his tongue—while her foot caressed between his muscular shoulder blades tenderly. 

His name fell from her lips like a crisp swing of a golf club; easy and perfected and satisfying. Everything about Lily was just so. You admired her for that, for her ease of grace, how manicured she carried herself both in public and in private. In moments like these, as private from the world as one could get, she still made it all look so effortlessly graceful and easy. 

George’s greedy hands tore you from your reverie, invading up under the band of your bra to grab two large handfuls of your breasts while his mouth kept working your cunt. He moaned against you, nuzzling his face a little closer with his tongue working your clit while his fingers pinched your nipples. You let out a trembling breath, grinding up against his face a little with your one hand still firm in his hair. 

From your left, Lily let out a sweet giggle and you didn’t know it had anything to do with you before she spoke softly to you, “He eats it like he’s obsessed with you.”

You couldn’t help the bashful giggle of your own at her words, the both of you watching your boyfriend eat you out like you were dessert. George gave your clit a little suckle and your head tossed back against the couch cushions with a gasp, your free hand flying up to grasp onto the upholstery. 

“Oh fuck,” Lily giggled again, breathless and pleasured, sharing in the moment with you, right there, with both of your men pleasuring the both of you simultaneously. She let out a pretty whimper as she rutted up against Alex’s mouth and his eyelashes fluttered at her neediness, pulling away just long enough to suck on his fingers before he was easing two inside her. Her back arched off the couch with a broken moan and she, too, grasped at the cushions behind the both of you. 

It was almost instinctive the way your hands found each other, not even realizing it until the warmth of her index finger was wrapped around yours, pulling slightly. You turned your head to look at her and she met your gaze with a blushing smile, beautiful and serene. It felt like a dream, lying there beside her, succumbing to the fantasies that had plagued your mind since the start of your trip. 

She gave your hand a little tug with her finger linked in yours and the two of you seemed to fall into each other, closer and closer. You weren’t quite sure what came over you as you hesitated just a breath away from her, smelling the wine on her breath and the fading scent of her perfume, everything else falling away for just a moment. 

She kissed you first, taking the initiative to close the minute gap between you and press her lips onto yours. For a heartbeat, you froze, your mind short-circuiting in the shock of it. But then she pulled back—and without thinking, you chased her mouth for another, a deeper one. Maybe it was the wine. Maybe it was her. Maybe it was both.

“Jesus Christ.”

Alex’s voice cracked with disbelief, sharp and raw from farther down the couch as he all but forgot Lily’s body beneath his hands. He stared, eyes wide, slack-jawed, not even blinking.

And between your thighs, George’s tongue stilled. His breath caught warm against your skin, and then you felt it—his laugh, soft and dark and impressed, rumbling against the inside of your thigh. He pulled back just far enough to look up at you, his lips wet, his mouth curved into a sly smile at the unexpected sight.

“Fuck…” he murmered, voice thick with surprise. 

Having all the attention on you had your heart racing more than it already was and you forced yourself to focus on the gorgeous woman beside you. Lily’s finger tightened around yours and then her palm was against yours and you intertwined your hands between smiling kisses. It was thrilling and new and beautifully clumsy and as she pulled your hand towards her body to cup your hand over her breast, the two of you shared soft, breathy laughter. 

George didn’t tear his eyes away from you as he dropped an open-mouthed kiss to your inner thigh and you tangled your free hand back into his hair to try and pull him closer again. He muttered something against your skin that you didn’t quite catch, the remanence of your arousal clinging to his lips and smearing across your flushed skin. Then, without another word, he was giving into you again with an eager tongue. 

Lily licked up the sound of your moan, her soft hand cupping your jaw as if she were an expert at such things. A natural born leader, it seemed. She didn’t falter, even as your body shifted to nudge your hips up towards George’s mouth, hungry for more. When his tongue met your clit in firm strokes, you weren’t quite sure who gasped louder—you or Lily—but the sound of it felt like the spark that lit the fuse.

And God, you were burning.

“That’s it,” she said in a smile against your cheek as your head dropped back against the couch cushions, “Think you wanna let me have a turn?”

You licked your lips and then bit your bottom one, staring up at her like she had just spoken the most intricate sonnet to you. It was a weighty offer for something you had never done before. But, there was always a first time for everything, and no better time than with the friends who you trusted most to share such an experience with. So you offered a small nod before turning to look to your boyfriend for his input. 

He had been so preoccupied with your pussy that he hadn’t heard Lily's offer. When you both looked at him, he pulled away, “Sorry?”

“Are you up for a little sharing?” Lily asked. 

George looked at you to gauge your reaction but your bashful little grin said it all. He smirked up at you and caressed the soft skin of your thighs with his large hands before replying, “Don’t think we mind.”

Alex—who had found a comfortable position lounged on the opposite side of the sectional sofa to watch—let out a soft laugh, his gaze never straying from you as he spoke, “You sure?”

He said it like a man who had experience in such things, how he and Lily seemed to go about this all too easily. You and George seemed to carry more of the hesitation and trepidation that night, newbies to inviting other people into your intimate activities. Maybe there was more about your closest friends you had yet to discover. 

With everyone on the same page, the boundaries confirmed, Lily made her move. She shifted off the couch and onto the floor beside George, unbothered by everyone’s nakedness; to be fair, everyone was far past the point of being concerned about decency. Well, that was until her eyes trained in on your cunt and suddenly you could feel a fiery heat blaze across your cheeks. George’s thumb caressed your thigh, staying close, a comforting and grounding presence. 

“There we go…” Lily almost purred, a pretty smile on her lips as she guided your thighs farther apart. Her eyes were trained in on your cunt and how it glistened in the firelight from your plentiful wetness and George’s spit, skin swollen and blushing pink with arousal. She gently stroked her thumb over your clit, the simple touch making you startle, and before you could say anything, she was leaning in for a little taste.

She ghosted a kiss to your pussy before dragging her tongue slowly across it, her lips pricking up into a smile at how you gasped, her eyes finding yours from between your legs. You focused on her closely, chest heaving in anticipation, eyes wide, watching how she started to lap lazily at your clit. You hardly acknowledged the dip of the couch cushion beside you until Alex’s arm was pressed against yours, invading your space where his girlfriend once sat. 

Neither of you spoke. Instead, all three of you watched Lily as she familiarized herself with you and you gave yourself up to her. The living room was quiet apart from the crackling fireplace and the soft wet sounds of her mouth on you. 

George, who was still knelt beside her on the rug, moved in a little closer, his eyes flicking between her and you as if he didn’t quite know where to look. His hand reached out and gently tucked some of her hair behind her ear for her before he was using two fingers to spread your lips apart some more. 

“She likes it direct,” he told her softly. 

Lily pulled away just long enough to send him an appreciative smile before letting her hand take over from his, holding you open so she could lean back in and have direct access to your clit with her greedy tongue. Your whole body flinched and you couldn’t hold back the moan that slipped past your lips, your hands falling stupidly to your sides as if you were afraid to touch.

George was right there, taking your hand in his and lacing your fingers together to give you something to hold onto as he watched Lily lap at your clit and right down to where you were leaking all over the towel beneath you. His thumb caressed over yours absentmindedly, his teeth sunken into his bottom lip as if he were in a haze of pleasure. 

From beside you, Alex let out a small groan, “Fuck, Lil…”

She laughed softly against your cunt as if she were thoroughly enjoying herself and her hands wrapped around your thighs to keep you on her mouth. With your hand that wasn’t held by George’s, you reached down to push your fingers through her hair. She didn’t need any prompting but your action subconsciously drew her nearer, keeping her mouth working at your cunt in messy slurps and kisses. Your head draped back against the couch with a strained groan.

When Alex’s fingertips ghosted over the band of your bra, you shivered but didn’t pull away. Instead, your hand tightened in George’s and your boyfriend’s attention flicked between Lily’s mouth and the way Alex’s fingers were teasing across the flushed skin of your abdomen, almost as if he were not quite sure what visual was intriguing him more. What had you done in your past life to warrant such treatment as if you were a goddess reincarnate; three gorgeous individuals all tending to you like a harvest feast. 

Alex popped the clasp of your bra with practiced ease and you shifted to help him take it off you and you joined the rest of your group in the stark nude. In a haze of lust, you found yourself leaning into him, accepting his arm around your shoulders, tucked up at his side in something that hazed the line of friendship. His other hand helped itself to your bare chest, his greedy and unfamiliar fingers pinching at your nipples to lure another sweet sound from your pouted lips. 

“That’s it…” George breathed, almost in awe, his hand still holding yours in a firm and loving grip while his eyes slid back down your naked body to Lily’s face nestled between your thighs, “Fuck.”

“Mm, your girlfriend is perfect, George,” Alex praised with a cheeky smirk and he leaned in to mouth at your jawline.

George glanced up at him with a sparkle in his eye, “I know. Aren’t you a lucky bastard that I’m willing to share tonight then.”

“George…” you huffed out a meek laugh at his cheeky banter, head still lolled back against Alex’s arm around your shoulders. You felt dizzy. Was it the wine? Or the lust?

Lily’s mouth worked magic between your legs like she knew exactly what she was doing, leaning farther down to lap up the sweetness that dripped from your cunt like nectar before she dragged it up with a flat tongue to suckle at your clit. You arched with a broken gasp, hand tightening in her hair and around George’s fingers, crying out softly to the lofty ceiling above shamelessly. She only nestled herself deeper like she wanted to be utterly consumed by your body, tongue lapping at your clit in eager strokes between sopping wet kisses.

“Ugh my God—” you whined out, feeling that unmistakable warmth building within. You gripped her hair tighter and nudged your hips up against her face as if wanting to ride her mouth, to chase the impending pleasure, needy for anything. 

But then she pulled away, leaving you heaving for breath, lifting your head from where it had been dropped against Alex’s arm. When Lily turned her head to the left, George was so close to her that their noses almost touched. His hand momentarily tightened in yours. 

They stared at each other for just a beat, you and Alex watching them from the couch.

Then, Lily asked George in a voice that dripped like honey, “Want to taste your girlfriend on my mouth?”

The speed at which George’s free hand grasped the back of her neck was almost impressive and right away he pulled her in for a hard, lewd kiss. It wasn’t romantic by any means—simply chasing her taunting words by shoving his tongue in her mouth—but she met his insistence with grace, kissing him back just as fiercely. Your heart skipped a beat in your chest as you watched them make out, head tilted to the side with how Alex was kissing your neck at the same time and your jaw falling slack with unexpected arousal at the scene before you. 

After only a few seconds, George broke away from her with a panted breath and a lick to his lips. He took his hand from the back of her neck to wipe his lips with the pad of his thumb, donning a look that was almost surprised over the fact that he truly could taste you on your tongue, and he mumbled, “Fuck…”

“Okay,” Alex shifted from beside you to join them on the floor, “don’t take all the fun for yourselves.”

With the three of them kneeling on the rug in front of you, you were filled with a strange sense of pride. Power, almost. Like you were in control, like you were the beauty being lusted over just as strongly as you had been admiring the three of them all week. 

“Why? You want a turn?” Lily asked her boyfriend with a sly smile. 

“Nothing we hadn’t dabbled in before, isn’t that right, Georgie?” Alex tutted with a voice laced in dramatics.

“Oh, hardly,” George scoffed despite his smile. 

Yet he didn’t even so much as flinch or pull away when his best friend leaned across your lap to capture his lips with his in a kiss. George was still holding your hand, almost using your touch as a way to ground him, a connection of solidarity, even as he kissed Alex back with expert precision. 

You had heard the stories of experimental late nights during the early Formula years, sleepovers at parents’ houses and shared hotel rooms, bonding George and Alex together far more than people suspected on the surface. Nothing crazy, nothing to the extremes that the fandom often took it, but enough. Simply, enough. Enough that they looked all too familiar and comfortable having their tongues in each other’s mouths. 

After a second longer, George pressed his hand against Alex’s chest and shoved him back with a breathy chuckle, “Piss off.”

“Mm,” Alex licked his lips, “you do taste like pussy.”

You groaned through a laugh and peeled your hand out of George’s to scrub your palms over your face while the three of them on the rug rearranged themselves. The feeling of the couch dipping beside you had you dropping your hands, just to see your boyfriend joining you with a kiss-swollen smile and rosy cheeks. 

“Hi,” he greeted sweetly.

“Hi,” you echoed. 

George swallowed your greeting with a sloppy kiss that you melted into with ease. You raised a hand to the back of his neck to keep him there, in his rightful spot, his lips on yours and his body melting into your side, skin against skin. The peaceful living room welcomed the sounds of your kisses behind the faint crackling of the fireplace as you found yourself back in the arms of your beloved.

It wasn’t long until George was tapping your hip, a well-known silent indication for you to get up and get yourself on top of him. As pleasurable as everything had been thus far that night, you had been aching for him properly—to get him inside you and feel that beautiful stretch—so you didn’t hesitate to obey his silent demand and you tossed a leg over his lap. He had this ridiculous smile on his face as his hands guided you into place, an infectious grin that you found yourself mirroring in anticipation. 

George got you situated with your back against his chest and his hand helped itself between you to hold his dick in place so you could sink down on him. With your feet flat on the floor in front of the couch, you could keep yourself steady, lowering down slowly in tentative shallow bounces that had your jaw falling slack. He groaned warmly from behind you, large hands kneading your hips, your ass, gently pulling you down on him more and gliding with such ease thanks to how wet you were. 

Right in front of you, Lily and Alex had taken to the living room rug. She was still on her hands and knees in front of you but, now Alex had taken his place on his knees behind her, adjusting his positioning closer to his girlfriend. The realization of what he was going to do had you sinking your teeth into your bottom lip. All you could do was ready yourself for the show. 

Because then he was sinking inside her slowly but surely, his mouth falling slack as her body pulled him in and his hands looked astronomically large as they magnetized to her hips. Lily’s expression fluttered at the stretch, her own expression melting into pleasure as a smile spread across her glassy lips. She tucked her hair behind her ear to peer back at Alex, sharing a look with her boyfriend just as he started to thrust into her lazily. 

“Fuck…” she laughed breathily, letting herself ease into the familiar stretch of him pressing inside her deeper, and deeper. 

The sharp slap of George’s hand against your ass echoed through the chalet and he punctuated it with a low, “C’mon.” 

When you shifted on his lap to get your feet up on the edge of the couch, his cock pressed inside you in all the right spots, igniting every single one of your nerve endings in a fiery heat. You started to bounce yourself on his lap in steady strokes, pushing aside the burning of your thighs as you did so. George’s hands helped to guide you as he lounged back on the couch and you rode him just like that. 

The living room quickly filled with the lewd sound of skin on skin, panted breaths of pleasure, and the crackling tension of lingering stares. It all felt like some incredibly erotic dream that you would inevitably wake up from with a damp patch in your panties and lingering shame, but it wasn’t. It was very much real. You were very much riding your boyfriend on the couch while watching your two best friends fuck right in front of you. 

The reality of it all had you head dropping back against George’s shoulder with a pretty moan. His hands tightened on your hips and kept you grinding on him a little more, his lips finding your neck again to kiss and lick at the sensitive spot beneath your ear, nipping at your earlobe, touching you all over just how he knew you liked. 

For a moment, you were in your own world, but then you flinched in surprise as Lily’s fingers dragged up and down between your legs, and she asked simply, “Can I make you come?”

“Mm,” you heaved your head up from George’s shoulder with a dreamy smile, “You can try.”

“Don’t underestimate how competitive I am,” she preened as she spread you between her fingers and then lowered down to lap at your pussy again. All while Alex was still fucking her from behind. The sight was insane. 

You sank deeper into the couch cushions at the return of her mouth, while George nipped at your neck again. As thrilling as it was to share with your friends, nothing was better than having your boyfriend all over you—inside you—and it was only made mind-numbingly better at the pressure of Lily’s mouth tending to your clit at the same time. You dropped a hand down to help yourself to Lily’s soft hair, keeping it out of the way for her and giving yourself something to hold onto as you watched her face working between your legs. 

“Holy shit…” Alex groaned through his teeth at the sight, his thrusts not stopping even as he reached a hand down to grasp his girlfriend by the back of her neck to keep her face right there. 

George’s chest rumbled with a soft moan that grew into a pitchy whine when Lily moved just a little lower to lick at your cunt and, ultimately, right where he and you were joined. George’s hands splayed across your stomach as if desperate to hold onto something, trying to buck up into you despite your body weight that held him down into the couch. He gave you the littlest thrusts, just to keep you stimulated, to keep that friction between you, moaning into your neck as he held you on top of him. 

The touch of Lily’s tongue on your clit had your fingers tightening in her hair, drawing her closer, your hips instinctively nudging upwards as if to try and grind against her mouth. She moaned against you, accepting your cues and gladly moving where you wanted her. The way Alex fucked her had her moving in a lazy rhythm against you, back and forth, just the right pace that had you feeling that unmissable warmth coiling up inside you. 

You were too far past the point of embarrassment or decency. Instead, you let yourself be spread out on George’s lap, taking his cock while Lily sucked and licked at your clit until your legs were shaking. It was a feeling of overwhelm you had never felt before, from the top of your head to the tips of your toes, like everything in you was vibrating at a frequency you couldn’t stop. Or, didn’t want to. 

“Fuck, I’m gonna come—” you rushed out, words slurred and hardly distinguishable. 

Alex had the audacity to fucking chuckle from behind Lily.

You couldn’t quite recall what was the tipping point, the heat and the bodies and the sensations and visuals all compiling in your mind to create one whole dizzying mess of lust, but soon you were tensing up like a coil, your pussy squeezing hard around George’s thick cock. He groaned against your neck, fingers pressing into your stomach, your hips, your hair in his face. And when your orgasm crashed over you, your head fell back against his shoulder and your body writhed against his, fingers clutching onto Lily’s hair as she worked you through it on her mouth. 

“Fuckin’ hell,” George groaned against your neck, peering down you shuddering body at his best friend’s girlfriend between your legs who pulled away with her pretty mouth smiling, slick and glistening. 

Lily reached into her mouth with two fingers to pull out a stray hair and she wiped it on George’s thigh before sitting back. She glanced up at you sweetly, “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you panted through a bashful smile, still resting back against George’s chest, “Yeah, so good. Fuck.”

From behind her, Alex had slowed to a stop, giving her a second to readjust as she got to her feet just long enough to chase your lips for a sloppy kiss. George watched over your shoulder as you took her face in your hands and accepted her lips on yours, tasting yourself on her tongue as she licked into your mouth. It was over before it really got started and she pulled away again with a charming smile to return to Alex who had now placed himself on the couch right beside you and George. 

The two of you watched as Lily helped herself to Alex’s lap and sunk down on him with practiced ease, so close beside you that you could feel the heat of their skin against yours and every movement of her body as she started to bounce on his lap. 

With his eyes all over her, Alex groaned, “That’s it…” 

You were still sitting on George’s cock, your back to his chest, tangled in his arms, feeling the heat of his breath falling against your neck as you shared the front row view. Between your legs, his fingers were swirling over your sensitive clit in lazy, absentminded caresses. You hummed and shifted on his lap, pulling his attention away from your friends to, instead, help you lift off him. But then you were turning around and climbing on top of him right away again, matching the positioning of your friends right beside you.

George licked away his cocky smirk as you situated yourself on his lap and he helped you to sink down on him again. Right away, you were matching Lily’s pace, the two of you bouncing in sync on your boyfriends’ laps as they relaxed back on the plush sofa side by side, both of them looking like little boys in a candy shop as they stared up at you. George’s hands were on your waist, fingers pressing into your hips, almost helping to guide you into your every movement. Alex, on the other hand, had two full handfuls of Lily’s breasts, nipples pinched between his fingers, groping her like a man possessed. 

“My God…” Lily almost giggled, her voice soft and breathless, “You two look like you’re in heaven.”

“If this is heaven, then consider me dead,” Alex replied easily.

George chuckled lowly in agreement, his eyes flicking over to the pair of them too, as if he couldn’t make up his mind where to look. Alex seemed to be doing the same, sharing his attention between his girlfriend riding him and you all in the same. 

Your arm was brushing against Lily’s with every bounce, the heat of her slick skin sliding against yours. You weren’t sure what came over you as you reached out to grasp for her hand but she didn’t flinch. She returned the action, linking her fingers around yours and shooting you a sly smile. Something unspoken passed between you. 

Because then you were both leaning in for another sloppy kiss, sharing tongues and lips and feminine moans as you each rode your respective boyfriends. It was a little ungraceful and clumsy but perhaps that’s what made it all the more hot. 

“Christ…” George groaned from underneath you, his fingers moving up to tuck your hair behind your ear so he could have a better view of the way your lips locked with Lily’s. 

“Oh, no, we are legitimately dead, I think,” Alex added from beside him. 

When you and Lily broke apart, a thin string of spit still connected your smiling lips, breaking only when George’s hands tugged you forward into a firm grind onto his cock that had your head dropping back with a tight groan. His hands were all over you as you rolled your hips against his, feeling him pressing inside you in all the right places that genuinely had you salivating. 

You didn’t see it at first, but you heard it—the sudden hush of breath, the wet slide of lips. When your head lolled forward again, you were met with the sight of George and Alex engaged in a messy kiss of their own. They were both leaning in awkwardly, arguably held down by the weight of both you and Lily on their laps, necks stretched just enough, and their mouths and tongues colliding with the same hunger you had just shared with Lily.

The sight made your whole body clench around George, the image of the two men devouring each other while still buried inside you almost too much to process. Your instinctive action had George’s eyebrows furrowing into the kiss and he moaned into Alex’s mouth, his hips flexing up against you to chase for more, while his hand reached up to grasp onto the side of his best friend’s neck. Lily’s laugh fell soft into the air between you four as she leaned towards you fondly, like she was just as wrecked by the view. 

You had been on top of George for a good while by then, trying to keep your pace going, but it was proving difficult. The sheer intensity of it all had your thighs trembling, pleasure warring with exhaustion until you couldn’t keep the rhythm anymore. You didn’t want to break the moment but it just wasn’t sustainable. So, you broke into a weak laugh as you stilled on George’s lap, your hands bracing against his chest.

“Okay…” you panted with a small wince, “my legs are burning.”

The three of them chuckled warmly and George and Alex broke apart with dreamy smiles. George’s hands skimmed down your sides, steadying you as if he’d already anticipated this moment.

“We can fix that,” he stated simply. 

He started to sit up, dusting a kiss to the corner of your mouth before helping to guide you off his lap. The sudden emptiness had a small gasp slipping from your lips but before you could protest, he was moving out from under you and standing up from the couch. 

“Come on, we’ll have far more space on the floor,” George offered, pulling you up by your hand.

Alex and Lily rose as well. Alex moved to help George shift the coffee table out of the way and you grabbed your forgotten wine glass from the edge of the table at the same time. You paused just long enough to take a sip, taking a moment to soak in the setting. All four of you were beautifully naked, moving through the heated space like it was the most natural thing in the world, the chalet living room thick with the scent of skin, sweat, and sex around you. 

Lily’s fingertips brushed your arm as she passed you, a fleeting, knowing action that had sparks shooting through you. She helped herself to the rug first just as George grabbed the towels from the couch and draped them out over the rug. She helped to spread them out and Alex tossed a few blankets and cushions down with them. 

After one more sip of the rich wine, you set your glass back down and returned to the group, sinking to your knees on the plush rug protected by blankets and towels and filled with three of the people you trusted most in the world. Your four naked bodies spilled over the vast expanse of carpet, magnetizing to your partners first with lust-stemmed smiles and flushed cheeks. 

“There we are…” George hummed as he brushed your hair over your shoulder so he could kiss your neck, “Mm, you’re so gorgeous.”

Your mouth fell open at the feeling of his lips on your neck, every nerve ending in your body on high alert, extra sensitive, giving into his every touch. His hair was soft under your fingertips as you tangled your hand in the back of his hair, holding him close, cradling him. 

“Let’s get you comfortable,” he mumbled against your neck before pulling away just enough to help guide you onto your back on the island of blankets and towels. Your hand didn’t move from the back of his neck and so he was pulled down with you until he was properly on top of you and his lips slotted with yours like it was as easy as breathing. 

For a moment, you almost forgot you weren’t alone, as George blindly nudged your legs apart and sank back into you in one steady push, sighing into your mouth like it was a homecoming. But then, as he started to grind into you languidly, you were torn from your little bubble by the sound of a breathy, “Fuck, Alex”.

Both you and George looked across the spacious rug to where your friends had also made themselves comfortable. Lily was also laid out on her back but her hips were rotated ninety-degrees and one leg was stretched up to Alex’s shoulder, giving him room to push deep into her with every sure thrust. He had one hand around her shin to hold it against his chest while his other held a firm grip over one of her breasts, driving into her with force that came from years of perfecting just what she liked. 

“Fucking…Christ…” George groaned as he pulled his eyes back to you beneath him. Your hands framed his face like he was artwork, staring up into his blue eyes that were dilated almost black with lust, the shadows from the crackling fire across the room hazing the pink flush that was smattered across his cheeks and down his chest. He let out a pretty grunt as he shoved into you again, continuing that sure pace with his bottom lip between his teeth. 

It made your stomach stir, seeing him like that, feeling him all over you—inside you—in such a context that you had never before anticipated. You pulled his lips down to yours and he kissed you fiercely, tongue sliding into your mouth with greedy caresses as he fucked you into the mess of blankets and towels below. With a hungry moan, your arms went around his shoulders, fingers pressing indentations into his back as if to draw him impossibly closer while your legs wrapped around his waist. 

George had to pull away to breathe after just a second, panting into your neck through handsome groans. Your fingers tangled in his hair and scraped across his back, breath coming out shallow and wispy to the ceiling, “Fuck, you’re so good.”

Your boyfriend pressed a hot kiss against your jawline. 

You turned your head to the side again to get another beautiful view of your friends beside you. Lily was propped up on her forearms and staring up at Alex above her with an indelible expression on her face that made you shiver. 

“Yeah, just like that,” she panted, “Please, please, please—”

Your eyes trailed her figure as she reached a hand down her body to start to rub at her clit, breasts bouncing with every purposeful thrust from her boyfriend kneeling over her. You weren’t quite sure where you wanted to look with so much happening. Not to mention, George was giving you every fucking inch of himself in mouth-watering succession and it was making it hard to think straight. 

Yet, the one thing at the forefront of your mind was repaying the favour to the generosity Lily showed you earlier on the couch. You weren’t quite sure where the sudden desire came from—this was completely uncharted territory for you, after all—but before you knew it, you were pressing a hand to George’s chest to get him to let up. 

When he sat back on his knees and pulled out of you, he gave your thigh a little caress and asked breathily, “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you muttered and shifted out from under him, letting your actions speak for you as you moved closer to your friends. 

George lingered only a beat before following, his gaze hungry, curious, as if he already knew exactly where this was going. 

You found your place beside the couple, taking in the scene before you as if in awe. Alex’s movements didn’t falter, even as you reached out to graze your fingertips over Lily’s collarbones and between her breasts and, finally, down to her pussy. Her hand fell away trustingly, letting you take over with your warm fingers, rubbing sure circles over her clit that pulled a beautiful gasp from her chest, her head falling back. There was something about it that shot a shiver of pride through you. 

“You’re so beautiful,” you breathed reverently. 

She was too into it to reply, simply gasping and moaning to the peaked ceiling of the chalet living room, illuminated prettily by the crackling fire and dimmed table lamps. You didn’t even flinch as George’s hand came to rest on the small of your back, his body close to yours, lips pressing languid kisses against your shoulder as his eyes watched you touch his best friend’s girlfriend enough to have her moaning. 

“So bloody sexy…” George exhaled against your shoulder. His fingers slipped down the curve of your ass and found their way between your cheeks, rubbing at your pussy from behind at the same time, letting you soak his fingers all too easily. 

The sight across the living room couch had Alex’s rhythm faltering for a moment as he took it all in, watching you and George close in around his girlfriend whom he was still inside of. His hand flexed against her thigh as if he wasn’t sure whether to keep going or to stop and give into the changing landscape. 

Lily solved it for him. She tilted her head back, eyes fluttering shut as she panted, and reached for his wrist to help her plea, “Wait—Alex, let them—” 

The request made Alex groan low in his throat, but he obeyed, easing his thrusts until he stilled inside her and then carefully pulled out, eyes focused on the way she trembled beneath him. 

“God, you’re spoiled,” he teased, but he settled back on his heels with ease, no real heat behind his words.

You and George took his place between Lily’s legs and, without thinking twice, you lowered yourself down between her pretty thighs. The only experience you had with such acts was being on the receiving end so you felt wildly unprepared but the carnal desire burning inside you had you uncaring anymore. You just wanted to taste her. Make her feel good. 

The first graze of your tongue over her messy pussy had her letting out a tight, breathless laugh to the ceiling, “Oh my God, okay.”

She tasted sweet and salacious against your tongue and you couldn’t help the low moan from your throat as you moved back in for more. George watched you intently, every graze of your tongue or press of your lips. 

“Yeah, good girl,” he encouraged lowly, draped out on his side beside you, both of your naked bodies framed by Lily’s soft legs. George had his hand lazily stroking his cock as he watched, plump bottom lip trapped between his teeth. From your other side, separated only by Lily’s leg, Alex was doing the same. 

It was strange, being watched. A bit performative, perhaps. Yet, you let your instinct drive you and it was pleasantly surprising how much success that provided you. So much so that Lily’s hand threaded itself through your hair just to keep you right there, mouth on her clit, licking and sucking and kissing and making a right mess of the both of you. 

After a moment, George took his hand off his dick to reach up and press two of his fingers against her leaking cunt, right where Alex had stretched her open. Her body accepted him with ease, her back arching at the slight invasion, her gorgeous face screwed up in ecstacy. You couldn’t help but moan hungrilly against her, feeling George’s hand ghost against your chin as he thrusted two fingers into her and you shared the honour. 

“Shit…” Alex hissed through his teeth, his voice sounding far away with how your pulse thudded in your ears, “What a sight…”

George’s cheek pressed right against yours as he leaned down to allow his tongue to join yours on Lily’s clit, the two of you clumsily going at it together, making her cry out. She writhed against the blankets and towels that scattered the floor, one hand in each of your hair, fisting hard, chasing more of the overwhelming sensations as her hips nudged up against your faces. The feeling of George’s tongue against yours was familiar but, in this way, entirely new. If your eyes weren’t closed in lust, they certainly would have been fucking rolling. 

The shuffle across the rug barely captured your attention—far too focused on Lily and her beautiful sounds beneath you—until the presence of Alex’s body loomed behind you. George flinched slightly beside you, groaning against your tongue and Lily’s clit, as Alex leaned in to kiss his neck. Your boyfriend tried to keep going but something had him stuttering and pulling his mouth away as his forehead rested against your shoulder for a moment.

“Fuck…Alex,” George rasped, voice thick and urgent, his fingers pulling out of Lily to instinctively grasp your arm to ground himself, smearing her wetness across your skin. 

You and Lily both turned your attention to them, just to see Alex’s fist wrapped snugly around George’s hard cock, his cheeks flushed with both exertion and cheeky mischief and his lips ghosting over George’s abs as he made his slow, teasing decent. Your boyfriend adjusted his position slightly, still draped on his side across the rug, but opening himself up more for the opportunity, wide blue eyes watching as his best friend stroked him off and then dropped his tongue out to swirl around the head of his cock. 

George audibly withered, long lashes fluttering, eyebrows quirked up in the middle, and his hand tightened around your arm. Alex swallowed him up almost too quickly, taking him into his mouth like it was nothing to bat an eye at. George’s head stuttered out a dumb little half-nod before his teeth sunk into his bottom lip. 

“Full of surprises,” Lily commented with a sly smile and when you turned your head to look back up her body to her flushed face, she, too, was watching the men have their moment. The two of you shared a knowing smirk and then you were dropping your face back down between her legs for another tepid lick. She hummed and threaded her fingers through your hair. 

“Shit…” George choked out breathily, almost a prayer, as Alex started to work his mouth around his sensitive cock, “Fuckin’ hell…”

You moaned up against Lily’s cunt at the breathless sounds of eroticism coming from your boyfriend right beside you. He wasn’t being overly helpful anymore but you gave him grace due to the fact he was dealing with the sudden reality that was his best friend’s mouth on his cock. So you took over for the both of you, tending to Lily in the ways that had her writhing beneath your tongue, her dainty hand tangling in your hair, pulling just so. 

Meanwhile, George was still squished in beside you between Lily’s spread legs but his attention was elsewhere, heavy-lidded eyes downcast to Alex. Not unlike you, Alex didn’t appear too knowledgeable about his current situation but he held the wine-stemmed confidence that made it believable that he had done all this before. That he had sucked a cock before. You knew George’s tells like the back of your hand anyway, and you didn’t even have to look at him to know that he was properly enjoying it. 

Lily’s thighs started to tremble, the tight little gasps slipping from her throat sounding more and more strained with each flick of your tongue. Something burned within you, an innate desire to make her come. Her hand clutched at your hair, tugging hard enough that you knew she was getting close, and so you pressed deeper, flattening your tongue and lapping her up until her back was arching off the rug with a hitched gasp.

For a moment, you didn’t even want to stop, continuing the ministrations of your tongue over her pussy even as she creamed against your mouth and smeared your lips in glistening pleasure. You felt almost drunk on it, fueled on searing pride, desperate to drink up every drop of the sweet taste of her.

“Ahh, fuck…” she giggled weakly, her hand in your hair moving from a snug first to a flat palm, pressing against the crown of your head to get you to let up. You let yourself pull back with a messy slurp and a shaky exhale, hooded eyes blinking up at her gorgeous pleasured expression, uncaring of the way your jaw ached just enough to be noticeable. Not that you’d dream of complaining. 

The two of you shared giddy smiles, but then, Lily’s gaze darted past you, and you couldn’t help but follow it—straight to Alex. His lips were red and shiny, jaw working as he took George down to the base.

Lily let out a shaky laugh, biting her lip as her hand twirled absentmindedly through your hair as you peered back at the men. Her voice was like velvet, her eyes locked on Alex’s swollen mouth, “He’s too pretty like that, isn’t he?”

You licked your lips, humming in agreement, drawn in by the sight of your boyfriend’s dick disappearing into his best friend’s mouth in steady strokes. Lily shifted away, drawing her legs back towards her, and then leaned in towards your ear, her breath warm as she dusted a kiss to your shoulder.

“Come on,” she said softly, eyes sparkling with the dangerous combination of lust and mischief, “Let’s make him feel just as good.”

The sea of towels and blankets guided you over towards them, closer and closer. George was barely aware of what was going on—you could see it all over his face, completely undone, and honestly, probably about to come if Alex didn’t let up soon—and he barely even looked up when you moved away from him. When Alex pulled off his dick at the presence of the two of you approaching him on hands and knees, George let out a whimpering gasp at the separation. 

Lily moved in first, pressing her lips to her boyfriend’s without hesitation, licking her way into his mouth like it was a practiced dance, and he met her halfway. You reached out a hand to stroke over her messy hair and then trace the lines of Alex’s bicep as his arm lifted to cradle his girlfriend’s cheek in his palm. The sounds of their lewd kisses filled the quiet living room, harmonized perfectly amongst your shared breaths and the faint crackle of the fireplace. You caught George’s eye from over their heads and he sent you a soft, dreamy smile.

Then Alex was laying back on the rug, cushioned by the blankets and towels, his head resting on a stray cushion that had fallen off the couch. He was all limbs when he spread out like that, toned and lanky and filled out nicely over the years, his cock aching hard and almost leaking against his v-line. His dark hair was falling over his forehead, almost in his eyes, but he still held this cheeky grin on his face that might have been a little off-putting if you didn’t know Alex all too well. 

Lily situated herself between his thighs and leaning down to take his cock in her mouth in one smooth motion, practiced efficiency, her hips lifted in the air just enough to put on a show. Alex let out a handsome groan, his hands tucking behind his head to keep himself watching, staring down his body at the way her mouth moved on him in a few purposeful suckles. No sooner did she start, however, did she pull off again with a dramatic pop. 

She only had to glance at you and you were moving in closer, leaning down over Alex’s lap as she held his cock in her dainty fist to keep it steady for you and your tongue lapped at the head before your lips wrapped around it. Alex’s abs clenched and he smothered his groan behind a bitten lip. Your heart was racing, blood pounding in your ears at the concept of sucking another man’s cock that wasn’t your boyfriend’s. 

Alex let out a shaky exhale, words spoke through his pleasured smile, “Fuck, George, your girl is a tease.”

George just laughed, low and warm like the firelight you were all bathed in, “Yeah, I know.”

You moved your hand to wrap around Lily’s, sharing the responsibility of stroking Alex’s cock together as you suckled teasingly on the head, your tongue nudging against the sensitive underside. Alex groaned, Lily hummed. 

She moved in closer, cheek to cheek with you, so you could work in tandem. Her lips grazed down the side of his dick in wet, sloppy kisses while you kept your tongue teasing the tip, and Alex made some strangled sound that came out halfway between a laugh and a moan.

“Jesus Christ,” he groaned, hips twitching despite his effort to stay still.

Fueled by a sudden bravery, you drew back just enough to breathe, your lips shiny as you glanced up at him with a teasing, “Too much for you, Alex?” 

Lily laughed around him, a sultry hum vibrating along his cock before she pulled off just enough to add, “Oh, he can handle it.” 

Her hand curled around the base, stroking him slow and deliberate while she angled him back toward your waiting mouth. An offering. 

You leaned back down to take him in your smiling mouth again and she followed suit. It was filthy as you worked together to suck him off, taking turns taking him in your mouth or stroking down the side of his cock. It was lewd and filthy, your tongues gliding together ungracefully, shamelessly, making a mess while George watched on with his dick in his hand and wonder in his eyes.

You were so caught up in the taste of Alex, the wet glide of Lily’s tongue against yours, that you hardly noticed when George moved from his spot. It wasn’t until his warm hands caressed your hips that you realized. You pulled away from Alex for just a moment, letting Lily take over, so you could lean back into your boyfriend’s touch like a content cat wanting a scratch, head tilting to the side as he leaned in to press a few slow kisses to your neck. 

His breath fanned over your ear as he murmured, “Couldn’t just sit and watch anymore.” 

You still had one hand around Alex’s cock, holding it steady for Lily’s practiced mouth, but your attention was more so focused on your boyfriend and his ghostly touches to your body that sent shivers down your spine. George shuffled up a little closer behind you, knees on either side of your legs, and you could feel the tip of his dick nudging insistently between your cheeks.

“I might go absolutely mad if I don’t come soon,” he warned with a tilt of amusement in his tone.

He sunk inside you all too easily, sheathing himself right down to the hilt in one smooth push. You withered dreamily, taking every inch he could give you, before you were leaning back down to join Lily once more. George groaned lowly from behind you, large hands kneading your hips as you bent over in front of him with all too much ease, and he started to thrust into you.

Having the pressure of him deep inside you again was glorious, satisfying, and as you took him gladly, you moaned around Alex’s cock. Lily pumped her hand a little faster around him as her mouth worked over his balls, both of you drawing him closer by the second. Alex had an arm thrown over his eyes and yet you could still make out the expression on his face of pure ecstasy beneath it, down to the way his bottom lip was pulled tight between his teeth. Groaning, panting, gasping. 

“O-kay…” George grunted softly from behind you, hands holding tighter to your hips as his thrusts grew a little sloppier, “Mmph…fuck, I’m so close.”

He instinctively started to pick up the pace, driving into you a little faster, a little harder, and it forced you to pull off Alex’s cock with a gasp, your hand dropping down against Alex’s thigh for something to hold onto. Then you glanced back over your shoulder to your boyfriend, his handsome face screwed up in pleasure, blotchy red flush smattered down his neck and chest with arousal. He looked completely spent, completely on the edge.

More than anything, he was your priority, and so despite Alex laying bare beneath you, you left him to be tended to by his girlfriend while you fucked yourself back onto George’s dick in steady time. His skin clapped louder against yours that way, the steady rhythm filling the living room behind the two men’s pleasured moans and your shared gasping breaths. 

Alex propped himself up onto his forearms, bare chest glistening and heaving, staring down at Lily swallowing him whole over and over. His eyebrows scrunched together in the middle, his mouth agape with pleasure as he watched her. Then, he croaked, “Yeah…fuck…just like that. God.”

George’s hands were gripping onto any part of you he could reach like he couldn’t decide. Finally, he settled on your shoulders, slender fingers just barely framing your throat from behind, using the leverage to tug you back onto his every thrust just a little harder. You glanced back at him just as his eyes screwed shut and his head tilted back, mouth falling open in a perfectly silent gape. 

You could feel him twitch inside you before he let it out with a shaky moan that had you throbbing around him, and then he was spilling into you deeply. His hands tightened on your shoulders, holding you in place as he ground his hips against your ass to milk the moment for all its worth. Your eyelashes fluttered at the feeling of him coming inside you in thick, warm spurts, and when his hand dropped down beneath you to press against your sensitive clit, you were following close behind. Your body shuddered through another orgasm, clenching around him as he caressed you through it behind sated groans of his own.

Beneath you, Alex wasn’t that far behind. Lily had exchanged her mouth for her hand by then, working him off in feverish pumps with her tongue out and waiting so patiently. His hand dropped down to grab the back of her hair in his fist, grounding himself, holding her there, letting himself fall into the friction of her hand until he was coming across her cheek. Alex curled in on himself just a little, body tensing through it, a lingering moan spilling prettily from his lips as Lily took him back in her mouth to take the rest against her tongue. 

For a moment, all the four of you could do was breathe as the natural conclusion of your eventual night settled around you. Exhausting, but nothing short of incredibly satisfying. George pulled out of you carefully and kissed up your spine as he reached for one of the towels to wipe you up, while Alex wiped the streak of come off Lily’s cheek before slipping it in his own mouth. She got up with a breathless chuckle and stepped over you to help herself to the bathroom and Alex reached for his discarded glass of wine on the distant coffee table. 

George nosed at your ear as your body moulded against his in the middle of the rug, naked and tacky with sweat and euphoria, his voice gentle, something just for you, “Alright?”

You hummed, fingers trailing over his forearm around your waist, and you turned your head to kiss his jawline, “Really good.”

“This was fuckin’ insane,” he chuckled, almost disbelievingly, against your cheek before pressing a kiss to the same spot, “I love you so much.”

By the time Lily reappeared from the bathroom and rejoined your group on the rug, Alex still had his nearly empty glass in hand and he housed a grin that screamed trouble, “So, same time tomorrow, yeah?”

Lily smacked his shoulder with a laugh as she settled into his arms and you and George chuckled along too. The sea of soiled towels and blankets that covered the living room rug housed a mess of bodies and limbs throughout your come-down. George’s heartbeat thudded strongly under your ear as you rested against his chest, heavy and boneless, his arm around you and his fingers drawing absentminded shapes over your arm and along the small of your back. Directly beside you were your friends, in a similar position, snuggled up together, naked and blissful, taking a moment to gather your wits. 

Somehow, tipsy on wine and drunk on lust, the four of you stayed the night on the living room floor together. By the time the first rays of dawn crept through the windows, the chalet had grown quiet again, the fire nothing more than embers glowing faintly in the hearth. The air was warm and still, filled with unspoken understanding amongst friends.

When you woke that morning to the silence, laying in the aftermath, your head was still resting on George’s chest while he slept soundly beneath you, soft, steady breaths falling against your temple. In that moment, you caught Lily’s eye from where she was curled up against sleeping Alex. She was awake too, although barely, brown eyes blinking sleepily at you from across the limited space. Her lips curved into a soft, knowing smile, and you couldn’t help but smile back.

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[midnightzonzz]

"Elastic Waistbands and Emotional Landmines"

Pairing: Conrad Hawkins x Pregnant!Resident!Reader

Setting: Chastain Memorial Hospital

Chastain was buzzing with its usual symphony of beeping monitors, hurried footsteps, and slightly terrified interns. For Y/N Hawkins, it was a pretty normal day: rounds with Conrad, managing an intern who seemed to think WebMD counted as a second opinion, and dealing with her ever-growing cravings for anything salty and crunchy. Oh—and carrying a very active, bladder-punishing six-month-old fetus that liked to kick every time she paused to breathe.

Everything was fine. That is, until VIP guests arrived. Specialists. Researchers. “Prestigious partnerships,” Bell had said with his politician smile.

What Bell didn’t mention? One of them was Y/N’s ex.

And not just any ex. The ex. The one who dumped her right before med school interviews. The one who once told her he needed someone "less ambitious." The one now swaggering into Chastain like he owned the place, shaking hands, and—of course—locking eyes with her like no time had passed.

Immediately, Y/N turned on her heel and walked in the other direction.

---

The rest of the day was... chaotic. She avoided every meeting he was in, ducked into stairwells, fake-paged herself. Interns began whispering. Bell raised an eyebrow. Pravesh side-eyed her choice to eat three different vending machine snacks before noon. And Conrad—oh, he noticed.

Especially since Y/N started stress eating on top of her pregnancy cravings.

“Sweetheart, are you eating... barbecue chips dipped in pickles?” Conrad asked at one point, glancing at her plate with caution.

“Don’t question the genius,” she snapped through a mouthful.

Nic was the first to corner her in the staff lounge.

“You’re spiraling,” Nic said softly, arms crossed, concern all over her face.

Y/N sighed, hand on her bump. “One of the VIP guests is my ex.”

Nic blinked. “That guy?”

“Yes. The one with the smug face and the voice like a nasal TED Talk. He keeps trying to talk to me. And Conrad is having some testosterone-fueled dominance-off with him.”

Nic smirked. “So that’s why you’re on your third bag of chips.”

“I had to put on pants with an elastic waistband, Nic. Elastic. My pregnant ass can’t take this kind of stress!”

Nic, hiding her laugh, nodded. “I’ll talk to the troops. You just... keep eating those chips.”

---

Within the hour, Nic had recruited Dr. Kitt Voss, and the two of them orchestrated a very pointed intervention in front of the group—including Bell, AJ, Devon, Leela, Billie, Cade, and yes, the smug ex himself.

Voss turned to the group. “Tension is not conducive to hospital productivity or to the sanity of our very pregnant residents.”

Conrad opened his mouth to retort something snarky—likely at Y/N’s ex—but Y/N raised a hand mid-chew.

“Don’t. Just—don’t. I’ve held it in all day.”

Everyone turned to her, surprised.

Y/N stood up, holding her half-empty chip bag like a microphone. “This day was going fine until he showed up,” she pointed at her ex, who blinked, surprised. “Then suddenly I’m doing emotional dodgeball across the hospital while you two,” she looked between the men, “try to out-alpha each other like it’s Grey’s Anatomy. I haven’t peed in two hours because the minute I go near the VIP lounge, he’s there! And now I’m eating so much I’m going to literally waddle by third trimester!”

She paused, breathing hard, chip bag still in hand. “These pants weren’t my first choice, but I can’t even button my usual ones, so now we’re here—with an elastic waistband and a fashion disaster. And if anyone comments on my snack hoard again, I will cry.”

Silence.

Even Bell looked stunned.

Y/N pointed at her ex. “And you—don’t smile. You’ve caused enough trauma for a lifetime.”

She took one more bite of chips, looked around, and added calmly: “Now if you’ll excuse me, I need the bathroom. Dr. Hawkins’ baby is killing my bladder.”

She walked out. No one dared say a word.

---

Conrad found her fifteen minutes later in a rarely-used hallway alcove, where residents sometimes hid to cry or nap or sneak vending machine meals. Y/N was seated on the floor, munching on her chips again.

He sat beside her and gently took the bag from her hands.

“Hey—give those back,” she pouted.

He smiled, soft and apologetic. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize how hard today would be. Your ex is... well, he’s a piece of work.”

Y/N sighed. “He really is. I just—I wanted one normal day, you know? One day where I could pretend I wasn’t waddling around with heartburn and cankles.”

Conrad leaned over and kissed her cheek. “You’re still the most beautiful woman in this hospital.”

She gave him a look. “Don’t flatter me. You’re just trying to distract me from my chip loss.”

He laughed. “Maybe. Were you joking about the elastic waistband?”

Y/N narrowed her eyes, then stood up and lifted her scrub top slightly to reveal her waistband.

“Does this look like a joke, Hawkins? I am one pickle-flavored Pringle away from exploding out of these pants.”

Conrad burst out laughing, pulled her back down beside him, and cupped her bump with one hand. “God, I love you.”

“I know,” she said, snuggling in. “Now give me back my chips.”

---

End.

[midnightzonzz]

The Party

You'd never seen Kimi this drunk.

Warnings: birthday smut, alcohol, public sex, choking, marking, biting

Drunk Kimi... meant horny Kimi.

On a regular night out drinking he'd make suggestive comments, wiggle his eyebrows and send you sultry winks from across the room. Alcohol just had that effect on him.

Tonight was a whole different ball game. It was his birthday, and he was smashed.

Lord knows what he'd been drinking, but you knew the pregame had started at 12, and after lunch several bottles of limoncello had been consumed.

Then wine and spritzes galore around the pool with his friends all afternoon.

Now it was 10 PM. The party had officially started at 7, and the heat of the day was making the alcohol hit faster, and harder.

So of course Kimi, who was usually a normal-ish level of horny for a man, was now actively trying to not jump your bones in front of everybody.

And... he was failing.

He was glued to your back, grinding against your ass as you moved to the beat of the music the DJ had put on. Dry-humping you was the only thing on his mind at that moment.

Every attempt to sober Kimi up had failed miserably, and you'd given up on trying to get him off you.

"Please" he growled into your ear. "Let's just go upstairs, we'll be quick"

You huffed, sweat dripping down your back with the extreme heat. Italy in the summer felt like a scorched nightmare.

"I know you better than that, Kimi" you turned around in his arms, hooking one of yours around his neck. "You're never quick"

He grinned, wide and dopey as his lips ghosted over yours. "Thank you"

You rolled your eyes, "Cocky little shit" you muttered, but couldn't help your amused smile.

"Careful" he hissed, "I could fuck you right here if I wanted to. I'm trying to control myself"

His words were barely understandable with how strong his accent got when he drank.

"Well there's still about two hours left of your birthday... we could always come back to the party afterwards"

His cock was hard against your hip, and you couldn't hide the fact that him being so desperate for you was getting you a little bit hot and bothered.

He groaned into your neck, hips twitching as his hands squeezed your waist.

He dragged you through a corridor, then another.

"Come with me"

The second terrace. On which there was a hot tub and a few deck chairs. The other terrace, which had the big swimming pool was currently full of drunk people lounging and dancing, this one however, was deserted.

The villa he'd rented out for his birthday celebrations was huge, and when you passed the staircase to the bedrooms you got confused, not knowing where he was taking you...

The lack of people didn't make you feel any less exposed though, because there was only a hedge between the two, so you could hear the others loud and clear... and that meant the others could hear you.

It was exciting, being so close to all the activity. Kimi knew you, and he knew how much you liked the risk of getting caught. He liked it just as much the kinky fucker.

He sat down on one of the chairs, and patted his lap with a grin.

"Time for my present?"

You rolled your eyes, and straddled him willingly.

His fingers wasted no time trailing up your inner thigh and pressing over your clothed cunt. The tiny little dress you were wearing had ridden up the moment you spread your legs. You sighed and kissed him, popping the button on his pants and slowly pulling the zipper down.

He pushed your panties to the side and felt your wetness, ready to push a finger inside you, but you shook your head.

"No time for that, need you now"

He gasped when his cock was finally freed, and you immediately rubbed the tip against your entrance, making him tense up.

You sank down, slower than usual because of the stretch, which served to drive Kimi slightly mad with desperation.

"Dio mio... you feel so good" he groaned, watching his cock dissappear into you.

When you finally bottomed out, you leaned in close and kissed along his jaw, his head was thrown back so you took the opportunity to mark him up. Your teeth sank into the meat of his neck and he let out a soft whine.

"Happy birthday, Kimi" you whispered.

You bounced on him, hard and fast, and he moaned loudly. Loud enough for you to suddenly remember the people only feet away from you and you slapped a hand over his mouth. The noise on the other side of the hedge didn't waver, so you kept up a steady rhythm, your ass slapping against his hips with a soft thud.

His eyes were rolling back in his head, and he was trying to hold on to his sanity while your cunt squeezed his cock perfectly. He had a death grip on your hips as you moved, and after a while he started pulling you down on him harder, which made you moan loudly.

And this time you picked up on a voice behind the hedge. "Did you hear it? I heard it again"

Kimi put a hand over your mouth, and you kept moving, both listening for more.

"I'll investigate" you heard, and your eyes widened at each other.

Kimi pulled you body closer, and planted his feet firmly on the deck chair to have leverage to control the movement. He needed to get you off before anyone got suspicious of his dissappearance.

He groaned into your neck. "We need to be quiet" but his hips sped up, and with the change of angle his cock was ramming straight into your sweet spot.

You tried your best to muffle your moans in his neck, but as you got closer to your climax they got louder, so Kimi wrapped a hand around your throat and squeezed.

You were no longer capable of any noise whatsoever, so you were free to get lost in the feeling of him splitting you open on his cock.

"Fuck" he grunted "You're getting so tight around me, baby. I'm not going to last much–"

"Oh my god! "

By the time you regained your sense of sight, the person was gone. Unfortunately, you'd recognise that voice anywhere...

You didn't have time to react to the intruder, your orgasm crashed over you, and Kimi about a second later, and the two of you just rutted into each other, desperately riding out the intense waves of pleasure rippling through your bodies. The slight pain of Kimi biting down on your shoulder made you shudder and an extra burst of pleasure licked up your spine.

"Shit, Ollie is gonna tell everyone about this" Kimi groaned as you slumped against him.

You moaned, weak and muffled, and seconds later you heard the telltale commotion of Ollie barging onto the other terrace, and very loudly announcing:

"KIMI IS HAVING BIRTHDAY SEX BEHIND THE HEDGE"

Followed by the sound of a dozen people cackling, then whistling and whooping.

Kimi snorted and you giggled into his neck as he wrapped his arms around you in a tight and reassuring hug.

You were going to kill Ollie Bearman.

[midnightzonzz]

this was requested but i lost the request sorry!

words

pairing: lando norris x reader warnings: smut, p in v, oral (f!receiving) words: 900

You and Lando have been best friends for as long as you remembered. But recently it felt like more. You hugged longer than before. You touched more whenever you can. In private or outside. 

But nothing has happened. Yet. Just hugs. The one or another sleepover. But the only thing that happened was actual sleep.

But tonight it was different. You were in Lando’s bed, facing him. His curls fell into his face and his eyes sparkled as he looked right back at you. 

In that moment you decided to take the risk. You slowly leaned forward. Very slowly, giving Lando the chance to move away. To escape. 

But he didn’t. You noticed the moment he realized as his eyes darkened and he moistured his lips with his tongue. Then your lips were on his. Almost ridiculously shy. Lando deepened the kiss, he leaned more and more into it. 

A moment later you felt his hand on your hip. Still over your clothes. He slowly wandered higher though, slipping under your shirt. 

He pulled back a little.

”That okay?”, he asked, his voice raspy. 

You nodded. 

“Words, Y/N”, he demanded, his voice suddenly firmer than usually. Still dark and raspy though.

”Yes”, you only managed to whisper before his hand was back on your skin, his mouth back on yours. 

You still moved shyly, tentatively placing your hand over his sweatpants on his hip. 

You cursed yourself for not thinking this through. For just kissing him.

A second later you felt something on your stomach. 

Oh. Oh. 

You shivered as you clearly felt Lando’s arousal. 

Your best friend’s hands gently, questioning, lifted the hem of your shirt and you nodded, allowing Lando to undress you. 

He gulped as he saw that you weren’t wearing anything under it. He lifted his hand and gently brushed over your nipples. 

Now you were the one helping him out of his shirt. You bit your lip as you saw Lando’s muscles underneath, his abs twitching under your gaze. 

Your friend’s hands lowered to the hem of your shorts, again looking at you with a silent question in his eyes. Again you nodded. 

That left you only in your slip which you thought wasn’t fair, so you helped Lando strip as well. He was only left in his boxers. 

Wow. That man really was ridiculously hot. 

Lando went lower to help you out of your slip as well. 

You pressed your legs together, suddenly feeling embarrassed.

”Nuh-uh. Let me see, pretty girl”, Lando said firmly, pushing your legs apart. 

You saw the glint in his eyes as he took the sight of you in. 

He slowly leaned down and you moaned. His lips were on you and it felt amazing. You’ve obviously been with other guys before but no one has ever been that talented with their mouth. 

Lando’s tongue suddenly pushed in you as your arched your back and gasped. 

You trembled as you clenched around his tongue, getting closer and closer to you climax. 

He pushed in a finger as his lips returned to your clit, sucking and licking while penetrating you. 

Lando felt as the orgasm rippled through you with a loud moan and your whole body tensed. He leaned to the side a bit.

”Wait a second, love. I just have to get a condom”, he said as he stood and went to a small drawer where he retrieved the small foil covered condom. 

Then he was right back on your side, rolling the condom over his already hard cock.

He wasn’t as big as you imagined, average you’d say, but pretty. Curved with the thick vein on the bottom. Glowing in the dim light of the bedside lamp. 

Lando was back over you, his cock lined up with you as he looked you in the eyes and slowly pushed into you, giving you time to adjust. 

He leaned down with a sweet smile. 

“Look how good you take me. Such a good girl. Been waiting for this for so long, huh?”

You only whimpered and nodded as you felt the delicious stretch of him as he pulled out a bit and pushed right back in, eliciting a sweet moan of you.

Suddenly the shyness disappeared as you started making noises, moving your hip in rhythm with Lando’s.

”More, please!”, you begged as Lando looked at you. 

“More? Think you can take even more?”

You nodded.

”Please. Feels so good. Harder.”

Lando’s thrusts became even harder, faster, brushing the one spot in you that made you tremble. You whole body tingled, as you moved higher up the bed with each thrust, hands gripping the sheets. 

Lando leaned down, pressing a kiss to you lips, muffling the scream coming out of your throat when you came hard. You whole body trembled. Lando continued thrusting in and out of you until he finally came. 

He pulled out, and you let out a whimper by the overstimulation.

Lando discarded the used condom in the bin and came back with a warm washcloth. He gently cleaned you up, before laying down next to you and hugging you close to his chest.

”This felt amazing”, you sighted into his flushed chest. 

“Yes. Yes, it did.”  

tags:

@strawberryy-kiwii / @a-distantdreamer / @requiemforthepoets / @martygraciesversion381 / @l-vroom4 / @comicqlivy / @sid-is-gr8 / @picklesbuddy93 / @sadiemack9 / @f1fantasys / @cloud-55 / @sunny44 / @widow-cevans / @gigicisneros / @mbioooo0000 / @sinfully-yoursss / @bravo-delta-eccho / @rue-t / @mayax2o07 / @alexanderachillesisgay / @maviesamour / @suhchenjun / @pippyth3hippy / @sweate-r-weathe-r / @joannaln4 / @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy / @aleatorio1234 / @anayaverse / @htpssgavi / @dessashippr / @f1allymgp / @nickie-amore / @f1norris04 / @frostqueen-dhriya / @isagrace22 / @louisthetommotomlinson 

a/n: i know it’s been a long time since my last fic but i have summer break and tried to just relax a little before i have to get back to studying every day. i didn’t forget you, dw.

[midnightzonzz]

🇳🇱 || Sesame Syrup || MV33 x FWB!Reader

Warnings: Unprotected sex, sub!Max, Reader's protraited as a bit of a whore, mention of BDSM, fwb, slight overstimulation

Wordcount: 1k

It wasn't something Max usually did, but after the first time they hooked up, he looked through her room while she was in the bathroom.

He found a small black notebook under her bed. He knew he shouldn't have looked, but part of him was glad that he did, even if he was disappointed in all the names there were.

It was a list of all her previous lovers and what she had done with them. Although he only had time to read the first page, he got the idea.

It ranged from casual vanilla sex to full-blown BDSM.

He shouldn't have looked, but there was something special about her that made him want to keep her. The notebook should've been a sign that he should've just kept it to that one hookup, but he was intrigued now, wanting to know what she was capable of.

He put the notebook back under the bed once he heard the toilet flush and acted as if nothing happened. He always managed to get back into her bed and look through the notebook again. It wasn't hard to do so. There must've been something about him as well.

During one of their hookups, he sat in her bed with the notebook in hand, his mind so focused on the words that he didn't hear her. The words on the paper did something to him.

It's not like he was into BDSM, but knowing that she was capable of that, made him way too hard for it to be called a 'casual boner'.

She sighed softly as she got back into the room from the bathroom and saw Max with the book in his hands.

She got onto the bed, mouthing along Max's jaw as she took the book from his hands, closing it and putting it on the nightstand.

"There's a lot of names," Max breathed heavily, arching his neck slightly as she kissed down his skin.

"None of them matter to me except for you," She hummed, moving them around so Max was lying down on his back and she was straddling his hips.

"My name's in there?" He asked with a slight stutter, feeling her lips trail down his neck.

"Of course. You can read it if you want- later though," She said, taking his hand away from the nightstand where he immediately tried to reach "Want to have fun with you again first," She chuckled.

"I'm still worn out from the first time," He mumbled as she pulled his shirt off his body.

"Maybe, but you're hard again," She smirked softly, working her way down his body to pull down his sweats as well and his boxers, throwing them to the floor yet again.

"Kind of your fault," He breathed heavily as she kissed up his thighs to his hip bone.

"You're complaining?" She chuckled, leaning back to pull off her shirt, throwing it into the pile again, her chest exposed as she only wore her panties.

He shook his head slightly, knowing he would be able to get proper words out even if he tried.

"Hm, thought so," She hummed, kicking off her panties as well before he straddled Max's thighs, spitting in her hand before stroking him slowly, getting him fully hard again.

Max whimpered and whined as she slowly moved her hand, her thumb ghosting over his slit once in a while.

"Please," He moaned softly, bucking his hips up into her hand, trying to get her to go faster.

"When you're asking so nicely," She smirked softly, lifting her hips before slowly guiding herself down on him, both moaning softly.

"Fuck- good," He panted, fingers twitching against her hips as she slowly started moving.

"Yeah? Feels good, baby?" She breathed heavily, her hands on Max's chest, her hips speeding up slightly.

"Mhm. So good," He managed to get out between his moans as she slowly started bouncing on him.

It didn't take long for Max to start twitching inside of her, pre-cum starting to flow out of him.

"Please. Close," He moaned, hips bucking up against hers as she leaned back, hands on his shins.

"Mh. I can feel that," She moaned, feeling her walls clench down around him, adding to his pleasure.

"Please," He whined, back arched sharply, eyes closed shut tightly while his moans were loud.

"I'm not stopping you, baby. You can come," She managed to chuckle out between her moans.

It didn't take long for Max to come as he held her hips down against his.

She leaned back forward, moving herself again, her fingers pressed against her clit, getting herself impossibly close to her orgasm.

Max whimpered as he felt her walls clench down around him, making him slightly overstimulated, both from him having come twice already, and the sensitivity from having just come.

"Just a little longer, love," She moaned, her eyes shut softly, hips suttering slightly as she was close.

She moaned his name in a lewd prayer, her body shaking as she came, walls squeezing hard around him, making a high-pitched whine from him.

—

They showered before they got back into the bed, Max cuddled up into her side as he reached for the notebook still placed on the nightstand.

He was tired, exhausted even, but he forced his eyes open as he searched for his name. It was all the way in the back, the last name she had written down. She hadn't slept with anyone else since the first time they had hooked up.

She had written all the good things about him, and things she wanted and succeeded to 'fix' about his experience.

"This is what you think of me?" He asked softly, suddenly wide awake as he read the words.

"Mhm," She hummed, turning the page for him, showing where she had written what she wanted to try. Nothing major that she knew he didn't like or didn't want to try, but something she thought he wanted to try.

"We can try all this at some point," He mumbled, placing the book back onto the nightstand, curling further into her side, head on her chest as he wrapped his arms around her waist.

[midnightzonzz]

Hiii! Please could you write either a Lando or Charles fic where the reader surprises her dad with paddock passes (he’s a huge F1 fan) but he doesn’t know she’s dating anyone so is very confused when all the drivers know who she is. Maybe her dad doesn’t support the team her boyfriend drives for

Silverstone Shock - CL16

Masterlist

Summary: You surprise your dad, a lifelong Formula 1 fan, with paddock passes. He’s ecstatic… until he notices a Ferrari driver knows you a little too well.

Warnings: wholesome chaos, protective dad energy, teasing Charles, awkward family tension, fluff with undertones of drama.

Your dad had been talking about Silverstone for months, the race, the weather, the new upgrades Mercedes were bringing. He lived and breathed the sport. His garage at home was plastered in black and teal, framed Hamilton prints on the wall, even a little die-cast W14 model sitting on his desk.

So when you handed him an envelope at breakfast, he didn’t know what to expect.

“What’s this then?” he asked, glasses sliding down his nose as he tore it open.

Two Silverstone paddock passes slipped into his lap. His jaw actually dropped. “No. No, no, no- you’re joking. These aren’t real. Tell me these aren’t real.”

“They’re real,” you grinned. “Surprise.”

For a man who prided himself on being stoic, he very nearly teared up. “Bloody hell. Paddock passes? You’ve outdone yourself, love.” He pulled you into a hug across the table. “How did you even- no, never mind, I don’t care. We’re going to Silverstone!”

He’s always been a Mercedes man through and through. Sunday nights at home were religious rituals: the sofa, the TV, his Lewis Hamilton cap tilted back on his head as he screamed encouragement at the screen. He still has posters of Mercedes championship years framed in his office. He knows every Toto Wolff radio outburst by heart. And now, here he is, about to walk through those gates like he belongs.

You slip your own pass around your neck, trying to keep your face calm even though your stomach is twisting with nerves. Because while your dad thinks this is just the best Father’s Day gift ever, you know what’s really waiting inside.

The first hint comes almost immediately. A flash of papaya orange streaks past as Lando Norris and Oscar Piastri walk side by side, heading for McLaren hospitality. Lando spots you instantly, his grin lighting up.

“Hey!” he shouts across the walkway, jogging over. “You made it!”

Your dad blinks, startled, looking from Lando to you. “He knows your name?”

“Yeah,” you mumble, shrugging, but Lando’s already clapping your shoulder and pulling you into a quick hug.

“Charles is looking for you,” Lando teases under his breath, eyes flicking to your dad with a cheeky grin. “Good luck with that one.”

You shove him away with a muttered shut up before turning back to your dad, who’s staring like he’s entered another dimension. “Since when do you know Lando Norris?”

“Long story,” you say quickly.

But there’s no time to explain, because the universe isn’t giving you a break today. Across the paddock, a blur of red catches your eye. Charles Leclerc. He’s in Ferrari kit, sunglasses perched in his hair, phone in one hand. He’s mid-conversation with a mechanic, but the second he sees you his whole face changes. Brightens. Softens.

Your dad doesn’t miss it.

Charles strides over, all casual confidence, but his hand finds the small of your back without hesitation. He leans down, kisses your cheek like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

“Chérie,” he says softly, smile just for you. “I was wondering where you were.”

Your dad chokes. Actually chokes. He looks at Charles Leclerc—Ferrari star, Ferrari heartthrob—then at you, then back again. “I—what—sorry, what’s happening right now?”

You wince. “Dad—this is… Charles. My boyfriend.”

Charles extends a hand with polite warmth. “It’s very nice to finally meet you.”

Your dad stares like you’ve just told him you’re marrying an alien. “Boyfriend? Boyfriend?” His voice is climbing. “You’re dating Charles bloody Leclerc? And you didn’t think to tell me?”

Charles gives you an amused look, squeezing your hand. “I told you he’d be surprised.”

Before you can reply, another voice joins the scene—smooth, low, achingly familiar.

“Everything alright here?”

You both turn, and your dad freezes on the spot. Lewis Hamilton. Except not in silver. In red. The Ferrari red polo fits snug across his shoulders, the prancing horse stitched over his chest. He carries himself with the same calm gravity as always, but to your dad it might as well be blasphemy.

“Lewis Hamilton?” your dad breathes, disbelief spilling from every syllable.

Lewis smiles warmly. “Hey. You must be the princess's dad.” He extends a hand, shakes firmly. “Pleasure.”

Your dad is starstruck, words stumbling. “But- you- why Ferrari? I didn't believe it at first, i'm not used to seeing Lewis Hamilton in red.”

Lewis chuckles. “Yeah, mate. After so many years, I figured it was time for a new challenge. Charles and I are teammates now.” He gestures between himself and Charles like it’s the most normal thing in the world. Your dad looks like his entire identity is crumbling in front of him.

Lewis glances at you knowingly before clapping your dad on the back. “Come on. Why don’t I take you over to Mercedes? Introduce you to Toto.”

Your dad nearly faints. “Toto Wolff? You’d… you’d introduce me to Toto?”

“Of course,” Lewis says, like it’s obvious. “I might not be racing for them anymore, but family’s family.”

Your dad looks at you, eyes wide, still processing the fact that his daughter is apparently dating Ferrari’s golden boy and being casually escorted by Lewis Hamilton himself. But slowly his face cracks into a grin.

“Alright then,” he mutters, almost to himself. “If Lewis can be with Ferrari, I suppose I can survive my daughter with one.”

Charles beams at you, slipping his hand into yours. Lewis just winks. And your dad, torn between loyalty and sheer awe, follows alon, because at the end of the day, it’s Silverstone, it’s family, and it’s Formula One.

[midnightzonzz]

twt/x links, be logged in <3

op81

osc bending you over and playing with you

osc being a needy boy and humping his bed

taking care of osc after a bad race

sleepy naughty time with osc

osc gently over stimming you

osc exploring your adorable body

osc losing control with you and railing you from under

sitting on osc’s face as he plays with your tits

ln4

rough play with lando

lando helping you feel good

sleepy naughty time with lando

lando making you a wet mess by teasing you with his cock

lando filming you

lando railing you in a bunny outfit

lando being a huge tease before filling you up

more?

[midnightzonzz]

Birthday surprise

Warnings: smut, threesome, blindfolds and restraints, multiple orgasms, everyone is a whore, not so subtle reference to another fic of mine oops.

Requested by the lovely @acutely-autistic (sorry again about it being so late 😭)

You were half joking when you suggested it. It was obvious Franco was struggling to find something good for your birthday, because he kept asking you what you wanted.

"I don't know, suprise me" you kept saying which just increased Franco's panic at the ever-approaching deadline of your birthday.

He was desperate. He was asking his fellow drivers, or at least the ones with girlfriends, who would have some sort of "good" idea. When he asked Yuki, all he got as an answer was that his ex made him take her on an expensive vacation for her birthday and then dumped him immediately after.

Anyway...

Franco came to you two days before your birthday.

"Please. Just tell me something. Anything. I will do it for you!"

He was trailing after you like a lost puppy as you did your grocery shopping. You laughed at his dispair.

"Baby, honestly I don't mind. You could get me literally anything and I'd be happy"

He whined in frustration.

"But I have no idea! I want to do something special for you. Something that nobody has given you before"

You giggled. "Well I've never had a threesome, is that good enough of a suggestion for you?"

You walked off, exasperated at Franco's lack of imagination. But you didn't see the way he'd stopped following you, and was standing next to the cereal boxes with a dropped jaw and wide eyes. That was it. Perfect.

"What the fuck did you just ask me?"

Franco was a similar shade as the Ferrari next to him as he avoided the other man's eyes.

Lewis was gawping at him. "Your girlfriend wants a threesome for her birthday and you decided to aske me? That is a terrible idea, man. Ask literally any other driver but me"

He sent Max a text.

With every "No" that Franco recieved, his ego took a hit. He was a big fan of Lewis, but perhaps asking your idol for a threesome was a little bit naïve.

Max didn't even dignify it with a response.

None of the rookies were single, and although he asked them all anyway, they thought he was joking.

Carlos wasn't available.

He even asked Fernando, who told him to ask someone who wasn't two whole decades older than his girlfriend. Fair enough.

Then, after the race on Sunday, came his salvation in the form of one Oscar Piastri.

Oscar wasn't down for a threesome, but he knew someone who probably was. He'd beaten Lando by several seconds throught no fault of the brit's, his car had sustained a bit of damage and was just slower.

Lando was still beating himself up over it though. So when Oscar caught wind of Franco's dilemma, he had the perfect solution. Lando could blow off some steam and get out of his head.

Lando was down for that, Franco was nervous, but also down. And he knew you liked Lando, so it was a done deal, all he needed to do was surprise you.

You could tell Franco had planned something big.

He woke you up with breakfast in bed, and kissed you sweetly. He whispered a "Happy Birthday, my love" against your lips and left you to your food.

Then... nothing. All day.

He didn't mention your birthday at all, and didn't give you any presents.

Which you knew meant he was nervous and was just trying to hide it. You were excited to know what he'd prepared.

As the day went on his behaviour got more and more suspicious. He kept tilting his phone discreetly so that you couldn't see the screen. He was talking to somebody. His phone kept pinging all day, which was weird in itself because Franco always had his phone on silent.

It got to around 8 PM and you'd just finished a light dinner consisting of your favourite take out order. Franco cleared up, and invited you to follow him up to the bedroom.

"Do you trust me?" He asked shyly as he pawed at your clothes to get you to take them off.

"Of course" you smiled and kissed him. "How do you want me?"

"Naked, and blindfolded on the bed"

You smirked at him. "That's not a problem"

You lay down on the soft sheets, smiling up at your boyfriend as he fished a piece of fabric out of the dresser, and then hesitated.

"Can I also tie your hands?"

"Of course" you giggled.

He did so, making sure the restraints weren't too tight, and checking that you couldn't see anything through the blindfold.

He gave you one last lingering kiss. "I will be back in a moment"

You nodded, fingers drumming on the headboard where you were attached in anticipation. Whatever this was you had a feeling it would be good.

Franco met Lando at the door and led him through the apartment with bated breath. Lando was just as, if not more nervous than the Argentine.

He wasn't sure what to expect. He'd been chatting with Franco all day about you, your preferences, what was on and off the table, but nothing could have prepared him for the sight of you, spread out and waiting on the bed.

Franco put a finger to his lips to signal that he didn't want to reveal the surprise just yet.

Lando watched as he leaned over and kiss you, his hands trailing over your curves, and it got more passionate as he saw your chest rise and fall faster when Franco slipped a hand between your legs.

You gasped and spread your thighs further to give him access, and at the same time gave Lando a better view. Of your cunt, wet and waiting as Franco circled your clit slowly.

He motioned Lando over, and silently communicated that he could touch you.

He ghosted his fingers against your ribs, and then went higher, thumb brushing the underside of your breast.

You sighed happily, loving the attention from your boyfriend. The hand on your chest got bolder, teasing your nipple and squeezing gently.

Then a hand hooked around your thigh, gently pulling you open further for the fingers now circing your entrance.

When they pushed inside you, you moaned, and the hand on your breast moved to the other one.

Then suddenly, your mind caught up and you froze.

One on your breast, one on your thigh, one inside you...

That was three hands. Most definitely one too many.

"Franco-" you gasped, but he shushed you with a kiss.

"Do you trust me?"

You shifted nervously. "Yes"

He smiled against your lips. "Then just lie back and enjoy your birthday present, baby"

But before you could figure it out, another hand landed on you. On your lower stomach, pressing down slightly, as Franco pressed his fingers upwards, and a moan was ripped from you as white hot pleasure licked up your spine.

You nodded, relaxing somewhat.

You got considerably wetter at the idea of more than one person ravaging you tonight. And this was very sweet of your boyfriend. You wondered which hand was the impostor's. The fingers slowly pumping back inside you felt too familiar for it not to be Franco.

You no longer cared who's hands were who's. You realised this was turning you on immensely, and you needed to come, badly.

Four hands worked your body, slowly, precisely, taking you apart expertly and it was all quite overwhelming, so much that when you suddenly felt the long lick of a tongue against your clit you cried out, and came with Franco's name on your lips.

You heard a chuckle next to you, it was Franco.

"It's not my name you should be saying, amor"

Franco pulled his fingers out, and they were immediately replaced with a tongue. It lapped at you eagerly, and the two mystery hands curled around your thighs to hold you down.

You whined at the overstimulation, but it was too good to ask them to stop.

"Fuck-"

Franco groaned from somewhere next to you, and you turned your head towards him.

"Franco- who is ahh... who is it?"

The man was pulling out all the stops to try and turn you non-verbal. Sucking and licking at your clit roughly.

"You get three guesses. Get it right I take the blindfold off, get it wrong and he fucks you without you knowing. Deal?"

You nodded, unable to say much else with how well treated you were being in that moment.

You tried your best to use your senses to identify the man, but it wasn't like you knew what his colleagues' heads felt like between your legs.

Although... you noted that his cheeks felt rather smooth against your inner thighs. No stubble then.

You stupidly yelled the first name you could think of who was always clean shaven.

"George!"

Both Franco and the man between your legs snorted.

"Ha! No..."

Okay... you tried to concentrate, the hands on your thighs tightened, and you felt something digging into your skin... a ring!

"Charles!"

Franco chuckled and kissed your cheek.

"No"

You were getting desperate, your orgasm was approaching, and you were having trouble concentrating on anything but the pressure building in your gut.

"Fuck! "

He gave you one last lick and you moaned weakly. Franco just kissed your cheek happily.

You couldn't stop it, the pleasure crested, then washed over you in waves as you drenched the face between your legs in your juices.

"Any other guesses?"

You shook your head, breaths ragged.

"Shame..."

You heard the click of a belt and clothes hitting the floor.

A presence loomed over you, and your thighs twitched closed reflexively.

"No, darling open up for him. I know you can take it...It's the least you can do after failing to guess his name"

You whined when you felt Franco spread your legs, holding you open for the man lining himself up with your sopping cunt.

He slid inside in one slow thrust. All the way to the base, quite easy with how wet you were.

You moaned loudly at the delicious stretch. Whoever he was, he was big.

Even Franco was slightly taken aback.

"That's... fuck that's it, baby. Taking it so well holy shit"

Your brain melted both at the praise and the cock inside you, and the first roll of his hips sent your eyes rolling back under the blindfold.

It was touching all the best spots inside you, overwhelmingly stimulating everything at once, and when fingers circled your clit lightly your back arched.

"M'gonna come-" you managed to gasp, and the two men stared at you in awe.

"Already?" Franco asked and you nodded. Your legs were shaking and your fingers were white-knuckling the headboard.

The weight above you shifted, and the mystery man leaned over you, face hovering barely an inch away.

He rolled his hips once, twice, then his hand came to wrap around your neck.

A sudden wave of arousal made you clench around him and he hissed, putting more of his weight on you, and you felt his lips ghost against your ear.

"Who knew you were such a cockslut, hmm?"

The voice hit you like a freight train. You tensed up and suddenly you were right on the edge.

Lando smirked into the side of your neck, and on the next harsh thrust of his hips you came with a scream of his name.

He was right there with you, the fact that you were so affected by him was more than he could handle and he only had to push into your hot cunt a couple more times before he was coming too.

Your blindfold was carefully removed, and you blinked to adjust to the light and Lando's face was there, grinning down at you like an idiot.

As you caught your breath Franco undid the restraints on your wrists, and Lando carefully pulled out.

His come dripped out of you and he groaned, having to squeeze a hand around himself with the pang of arousal he felt at the sight.

Franco was so hard it hurt and he had to push his pants down just for some relief.

Lando smirked at him.

He was indeed already half hard again, and he'd noticed Franco's staring.

"Give me minute and I'll fuck you too, if you want"

Franco scoffed.

You looked between the two of them, and how Franco was getting redder by the second.

Lando chuckled. "My come is dripping out of your girlfriend, don't get shy on me now, mate"

Franco squeaked and hid hus face. "Oh my god... that's not how I had planned this"

You laughed. "Well I think you made Lando come all the way here, you could at least get on your knees to thank him"

He wailed into his hands and you and Lando grinned at each other. You found something the two of you had in common, your love for torturing Franco.

"Ugh. Fine..." he whined, and stormed off to get some lube while you and Lando cackled in the background.

He was so easy.

And it wasn't like he didn't like begging you to peg him from time.

He came back and made you move over on the bed, leaving the two men room to manoeuvre.

Lando opened him up easily, the whole time cooing at how shy and squirmy he was as he took his fingers.

Little by little he relaxed and actually started moaning as Lando found his prostate, and given how on edge he already was, he immediately started blurting precome.

You kissed over his pecs, just to rile him up, and he whined out a sob when you wrapped your lips around his right nipple and sucked.

Lando was in awe. "Wow, I didn't know you were such a crybaby"

You snorted. "You should have seen him the first time I pegged him. Wept like a-"

Franco groaned and hid his face in embarrassment.

Lando let out a giggle and lined up his tip with Franco's hole.

You soothed your boyfriend as Lando pushed inside him, inch by inch until he was flush with him. Franco let out a shaky groan and ran his hands through his hair nervously.

"That... yes, okay. I get it now. Fuck-"

Lando moved, and the reaction was immediate, Franco's back arched and his hands gripped the sheets so hard his knuckles turned white.

With every languid thrust, Franco's noises increased in pitch, and it was not long at all before he came, neglected cock spurting come all the way up to his collarbones with how hard his orgasm hit him.

Lando decided to be kind and pull out, and jerked off over Franco, lip pulled between his teeth at how hot the younger man looked all fucked out and spent under him.

His come just added to the obscene painting on Franco's body, and you sure were going to have fun teasing Franco about all of this later.

Lando kissed you, passionately, hands squeezing your waist as he held you under the water of the shower while Franco watched, entranced while he scrubbed himsef clean. It was the hottest thing he'd ever seen.

You thought the hottest thing you'd ever seen is when Lando pulled Franco by the hair and made out with him right after, and they both melted into it.

Then and there you decided, Lando was going to be a regular visitor.

[midnightzonzz]

RIGHT TIME, WRONG GUY! • OP81

SUMMARY ✰ A close friend sets you up on a blind date with the “perfect guy.” When you arrive at his house for the second date, you’re introduced to his shy, introverted roommate who ends up throwing a wrench into your situationship.

WORD COUNT ✰ 8.2K

CONTAINS ✰ Playboy!Lando Norris, Shy/reserved!Oscar, love triangle, reader and Lando have a fling dynamic, talk of hookup culture, Lando is a douche, STORY ENDS WITH SMUT, P in V, AFAB reader, soft sex, switch!Osc sort of, mature themes overall, alcohol

FEATURING ✰ Oscar Piastri x Reader + Lando Norris x Reader

A/N ✰ THIS WAS A REQUEST BUT I DON’T FEEL LIKE PASTING IT OVER BECAUSE I FORGOT TO REPLY TO IT. For the one asking for shy roommate oscar, this is for you. IT WAS TOO CUTE AND FAR TOO ACCURATE. I did add… My own little spin on it, one might say.

“You’re gonna love him, I promise!”

For weeks now, your best friend has been desperately trying to convince you to go on this blind date. She’s really dedicated her heart and soul into talking this random guy up, insisting he’s the perfect one for you. Every pro seems to complement your personality, and every con has a reasonable explanation behind it. But that’s just the issue; it’s all too good to be true and you know better than to fall for that.

“I’m not really looking for anything serious.” That was your reply every single time, because it was all together true. You were too focused on school to think about a serious relationship. You wouldn’t mind messing around and just mindlessly flirting, but it was nearly impossible to commit right now.

“Yeah, of course! This guy, he’s here for a good time, not a long time. You know?” It was unclear why she was so desperate to set the two of you up anyway. It’s not like she had a boyfriend herself, so you couldn’t see a future rich with double dates or anything fun like that.

Internally you decided it was because it truly had to be a match made in heaven. You sigh heavily, shaking your head. “Alright, alright. Fine, I’ll meet the guy.”

“Not just meet him— You gotta have a first date, that way you’ll know if this is the type of person you want to be around at all!” You give her a rather pointed look, and she huffs. “Look, can you just please do this one thing for me! It’s one date. One date won’t kill you.”

You’re stubborn, but you’re also ready for her to leave you alone about this entire ordeal. She’s right, one date won’t hurt. Besides, if it ends up being a fail, maybe you can just tell her that and you both move on. “Fine. One date. I’m serious.”

“You won’t regret it!”

That one date led you to a dorm room across the campus, which didn’t seem all that terrible considering you walked it every day to get to your classes, but when you’re dressed in a cute outfit and you’re all dolled up for a date, the last thing you want is to be sweaty and gross. Thankfully, the sun seems to take mercy on you today and you’re able to walk through delightful, partly cloudy weather without any issues.

Your nerves tingle in the back of your mind, whispering insecurities that you quickly push aside as you knock on the door. The bracelets adorning your arm jingle with the movement, and you quickly lower your arm to adjust the noisy jewelry. It takes a minute— A hot minute, but eventually the door opens.

Standing before you is a fairly handsome man, which you’re pleased to see. Subtly toned figure, evident in the large biceps hidden beneath a not-so-baggy sweatshirt, fair skin, big brown eyes, and soft brown hair that really makes for a ‘I woke up like this’ look. The man’s wearing a lazy outfit you’d expect for a day in watching movies. Not the fancier date you were promised. Nonetheless, he’s cute, which is always a bonus.

“Hello,” you greet, trying to appear confident despite the flushed feeling in your face. “Are you… Lando?” You folded your arms behind your back as a nervous habit, trying to avoid eye contact although it was essentially impossible. His eyes were hard to look away from. Such a simple color, but full of so much emotion.

“No.” Ah, that’s kind of embarrassing. You tense up, slowly nodding your head. “I’m his roommate. Lando’s at the store.”

“I see…”

He stares at you, his expression a mixture of uncertainty and slight confusion. Even with a kind expression, you feel someone intimidated by his gaze which penetrates right through the awkward shell you’ve put up. “Did you need something?”

“Oh, uh… Sort of? We’re supposed to be going on a date. I was told to meet him here.” You scratch the back of your neck, looking sheepish about the whole situation. This mystery man, who you’re only slightly disappointed to have discovered wasn’t the man of the hour, seemed rather surprised by this revelation.

He was hard to read, that’s for sure. His expression displayed pure judgment, which of course made you start doubting the character of this Lando guy. Maybe the two weren’t on great terms. “Right. You can wait inside if you want, I’m sure he’ll be back soon.” He left you standing in the door, which was now wide open, inviting you to walk inside.

You hesitate before stepping forward, both your hands clinging to the straps of the purse you had hanging from your shoulder. You scan the environment in hopes that it will give away more insight for what this date might be like, but it was useless. The whole place just screamed ‘A MAN lives here’ which was already obvious.

“So uh,” you awkwardly stand by the door, unsure of what to do with yourself. Would it be rude to just invite yourself into his comfort zone and sit down? “What’s your name again?”

“Oscar.” Well, Oscar had plopped down on the couch, one arm thrown over the back cushions and the other used to hold his phone as he scrolled. You nodded, tongue poking your cheek.

“Cool…” Could this get any worse? “How did you guys meet?”

“He needed a place to stay and I needed a roommate.” Oscar hadn’t even looked up from his phone when he replied, he just spoke in a monotone voice and avoided eye contact. You couldn’t tell, because to you he just seemed entirely uninterested, be he was more or less nervous by your presence. That’s how he was with most people.

Thankfully, the door opens right then to save you from further embarrassment. It’s for the best, because you were so desperate for conversation that you were about to start asking him about his day, which seemed wrong because the guy looked like he had just woken up based on his unruly hair.

You stepped aside to avoid getting a door to the face, and Oscar looked up, greeting the other man with a small nod. Lando, taken aback by his curtness, surveyed the room. His expression lit up when he saw you standing there looking all too alert. “Hey- Y/N? Sorry I kept you waiting, had to grab a few things.”

Your eyes drifted down to the grocery bags he had, all filled with red solo cups and alcohol you couldn’t even name. It was all colored vibrantly, and looked like one sip would cause your much more classy taste buds to drop dead. It was easy to tell what kind of person Lando was just based off his shopping habits, but you also found this oddly comforting. You weren’t looking for serious, you were looking for fun.

“Oh, it’s okay. I was just…” You gesture to the roommate who was now entirely entranced by the contents of his phone. “Talking to Oscar.”

“Oh, Oscar! Cool, yeah.” Your eyes followed his figure as he walked into the kitchen, setting all the bags down. You take this moment to really register his appearance. A mullet of thick, curly hair, light facial hair along his chin and upper lip, baby blue eyes that contrasted to the doe-y look of his roommate’s. All too piercing, and all too handsome. It was nearly unbelievable. “Hey, actually,” He poked his head out into the living room, snapping his fingers to catch the other man’s attention. “Could you unload this? I gotta go.”

Oscar seems only somewhat annoyed as he sighs, leaning his head back. “Yeah, sure.”

“Thanks! I owe you one. Come on, I have a reservation and I don’t wanna be late,” Lando addresses you directly, gesturing for you to follow as he exits through the front door.

As you were leaving you heard Oscar grumble beneath his breath, “You owe me way more than one,” which makes you giggle. A sarcastic man is always an endearing one.

Thankfully, Lando makes you feel neither overdressed nor underdressed. Coincidentally, the two of you end up matching quite nicely in outfits that seem just right for the occasion. It’s not exactly a high-end restaurant. Lando’s clearly well off, but not to the extent where he can blow all of his money on lobster and pasta that’s way too expensive for how much you get. Nevertheless, the place is nice.

Your date is mostly a ‘get to know each other’ sort of affair. He tells you in an animated fashion, speaking with his hands, that you indeed find to be very attractive, all about his pursue of a radio broadcasting degree to eventually accomplish the dream of becoming a professional DJ. While it’s not the weirdest thing you’ve heard, you are a bit shocked to see someone with such a goal in University. You’d expect that sort of career to be freelance.

So, you voice your lighthearted concerns. “Do you actually need any sort of qualifications to become a DJ?”

He chuckles at your question as he sets the restaurant’s menu down, clearly deciding on what he wants after debating for so long. You had been ready a while ago. “Honestly, I kind of just enrolled for the experience. I like to party,” he smiles as he says it. It’s hard to believe someone with such an innocent, boyish smile is the one throwing the real ragers. You then remember the shopping bags he had hauled in earlier and suddenly you’re not so surprised. “What about you?”

“I’m studying creative writing for now, but I kind of expect it to change.” You press your cheek against your palm with a somewhat dreamy smile. “Last year I had entirely different dreams in mind, and the year before that I was hoping to pursue a third different degree.”

“Safe to say you don’t exactly have it all together,” He teased.

“Nope. That’s why I’m not too concerned with romance.” Which isn’t necessarily entirely true, because you’re not against you. You just believe you have to find the perfect guy, but you also 100% believe that perfect guy likely doesn’t exist. Even if he does, what are the chances he attends your university?

Conversation flows easily. Lando’s not hard to talk to, but he’s also hard to take seriously with his unbelievable stories and cheesy jokes. When the waiter approaches, you both end up going for the same thing, and then decide you’ll just split one instead, which ends in the both of you laughing about how ‘great minds think alike.’

You both eat in a comfortable silence, although Lando really seems to be chowing down like a starved man. You try not to laugh when he leans back, already satisfied with his fillings whilst you’re still taking your time to enjoy the delicious food. He hums, hands behind his head as he looks around the place, almost as if he’s scanning for a topic to discuss.

He eventually laughs under his breath, and then lets out a playful sigh. “I hope Oscar didn’t say anything too off putting about me.”

You wipe your face with your napkin, sitting up straight to give him a confused expression. Lando doesn’t meet your gaze, so your bewilderment gets by unnoticed for now. “He didn’t really say much at all.”

“Really?” You can’t tell why this is a surprise to him, because even when Lando was around it was clear the guy avoided conversation. It wasn’t that you had a distaste for him, but you were worried it was the other way around. Maybe your first impression was a lot worse than you thought. “Ah, yeah. I guess I can see that. He’s a nice guy, he’s just kinda introverted.” You nod, but Lando’s not done there. “When I first met him I thought the guy had like… No emotions, but he warmed up quickly.”

“Yeah,” you agree, albeit awkwardly as you’re not sure what else to say. It seems a bit odd that he’s going on a rant about his roommate whilst on a date.

At the end of the night Lando drops you off at your door like a proper gentleman, though he seems antsy about leaving. You figure he probably has other plans to attend to. Not like it’s your business, you’ve only just met the guy and you’ve both made it clear you’re not entitled to exclusivity. “Thank you for the fun night,” you address him politely.

“Yeah,” he has his hands in the pockets of his jeans. You’re almost jealous, because your pockets don’t sink nearly low enough to do that. “You got my number, right? Keep in touch, ‘kay?”

“For sure.” He shoots you a wink, and you just laugh it off, even though you find it to be a little unsettling. “See you around, Lando.”

For the following two weeks your nights are filled with endless kisses that end up with you tangled in the sheets of Lando’s bed, breathless and satisfied. You find yourself spending more time in his dorm room than your own, and your roommate has to wonder if she should be concerned about you ever returning. It’s hard to leave when Lando’s skilled in every aspect.

He can work his hands with ease; his touch is like magic. You could say the same for every inch of him, which strains to bring you to the peak of your pleasure. Some nights you’re left with contentment, but you’d also be lying if you said some nights you weren’t waiting for more. You couldn’t expect much more in a relationship that was simply a fling, but Lando seemed to prioritize his own pleasure first and foremost. You were grateful for what you had nonetheless.

Though something else simmered in the back of your mind. Something that waited for your acknowledgement and was desperate for an ounce of your attention— Oscar.

It was hard to ignore his rolling eyes and plaintive sarcasm along every step of the way. He’d walk through the door to the sight of you seated, innocently, mind you, on his roommate’s lap, and he’d only clench his jaw and not even bother to say hello. It felt like he was avoiding you like you had contracted the plague, and that if he held eye contact for more than a second the infection would spread.

Whenever you came over, he was quick to exit the room without a word, hiding away in his bedroom instead. You shouldn’t have been concerned about the guy. He was just the roommate of someone you were hooking up with; nothing more, nothing less. But every night as you rolled over onto your side, facing away from a freshly relieved Lando, your mind would wander to the other man likely sleeping just a few rooms away. What had you done wrong?

You tried to convince yourself that was just how Oscar rolled. Isolated and reserved from the outside world. But then you remembered the way Lando spoke about him the day you first met, and you also remembered seeing him interact with his peers in the few shared classes you both attended. He wouldn’t even breathe in your general direction, but he’d happily laugh it up with his friends; he’d do it in that cute, charming way too where his little giggles are hidden behind the palm of his hand to prevent himself from causing a ruckus.

You were internally determined that you’d crack the shell of the mysterious fellow, but at the same time you knew it wouldn’t make any sense. For what reason did you have to bond with Oscar Piastri? You weren’t entitled to him liking you, and it shouldn’t have been an issue to begin with; tons of people have disliked you in the past, but for some reason, Oscar Piastri’s evident distaste left a sour taste in your mouth.

You end up tossing and turning, eventually sitting up to peek at Lando, who was sound asleep beside you. Your sigh is filled with disappointment, but nonetheless you stand up with the intentions of calming your unsettled mind. You open the closet with slow, practiced movements as to not startle the man awake. Due to a desire to keep quiet, you just grab the first sweatshirt you see and slip it on over your bare skin. It’s extremely oversized, hanging past your thighs to give you a shred of decency as you tiptoe out of his bedroom.

You’ve learned to navigate his dorm in the dark with ease, eventually ending up in the kitchen. The dim light from the fridge causes you to flinch and cover your still-adjusting eyes. After a moment to recover from the initial sting of the bright light, you reach in to grab a large, half-empty bottle of orange juice. It sat alongside various other drink mixers, but tonight you ingest it plainly after pouring it into a clear plastic cup.

You sit at one of the stools at the kitchen island, your arms crossed over the marble as you stare into the cloudy liquid. It’s hard to ease your troubled mind when there’s so much occupying it— Too many dilemmas to count.

You’re so focused on your own issues that you don’t even notice a fresh set of footsteps that lead into the kitchen. It’s only when a large, pale hand reaches for the bottle that you take note of a new presence in the small room. Your eyes move up, and you can barely hide your surprise when you see Oscar towering over your sitting form.

Even in the darkness of the night, he looks dazzling. His appearance is dimly lit by the waning moon. He wears a simple outfit— A white t-shirt with pajama pants that hang low on his hips, so when he raises his arms to grab a cup from the cabinet, you can see his v-like peeking out from the waistband of his boxers. Oscar’s eyes briefly scan over you before he begins to pour his own cup, standing beside you. Dangerously close.

“Nice sweatshirt.” If you’re not mistaken, he’s wearing a slight smirk as he says it. You glance down at yourself. This is the first time you’ve actually taken a good look at the item of clothing you stole, and it’s rather… Plain. Just an oversized, navy blue hoodie.

Even for Lando it’s quite big— For a man that works out, his figure is shockingly slim. “Oh, I… borrowed it from Lando.” You make eye contact as he slowly sips his drink. His gaze makes you shift— You feel somewhat intimidated, and for what reason? His gaze was intensely attractive. That’s why.

“Hm?” Oh, you’re actually gonna die on the spot. His voice is tinged with grogginess, making it evident that he only just recently awoke from a comfortable slumber. “Well, when Lando was lending it to you did he just happen to forget that it’s actually mine?”

“Oh!” You whisper as a visceral reaction to his teasing. It’s hard to tell that he’s being playful, so your reaction is as if his anger was real. “Sorry, I didn’t-”

“It’s okay,” he replied genuinely. He was staring down into his cup, much like you had been doing only a few minutes ago. “He gets our laundry mixed up all the time.” Oscar turns away as he chugs the rest of his drink, rinses it out in the sink, and then begins to wander back to his room. Just when things were starting to get bearable, he leaves. “Goodnight,” you hear him whisper as he turns the corner, disappearing from sight.

“‘Night,” you reply foolishly, long after he’s already disappeared. Eventually you make you way back to Lando’s bed, putting the hoodie back where you found it before settling down. This time, you lay further away from him subconsciously.

You make the executive decision to distance yourself from the two of them for a few days— And by a few I mean two, because on the third you find yourself in a dire situation. You made up the excuse that you were running a fever and didn’t want to risk getting Lando sick, to which he naively believed without a second thought. But now, you’re calling his phone and he’s just not answering.

You stare at your lists of contacts as you undergo serious mental turmoil, your finger hovering over one name in particular. You got his number from Lando as a ‘in case of emergencies’ sort of thing, and that just happened to be right now. So, after another minute or two of internal debate, you call Oscar. He answers by the fourth ring.

“Hello?” His voice is deep, implying that he had once again just woken up. You freeze, the words stuck in your throat. “Hello…” He repeats again with a bit more urgency.

“Oscar- Hi,” you fumble over your words. “It’s Y/N, uhm…”

“Why are you calling so early?” He doesn’t exactly sound mad, but just confused. You pull the phone away, tapping the screen to check the time, and then hum as you bring it back to your ear.

“It’s eleven in the morning and you’re just waking up?”

“Well, it’s not exactly my fault I was up so late.”

“What?” You shake your head. “Okay, whatever, I was just calling to see if Lando’s home? He’s not answering my calls.”

The other line falls silent, but you can faintly hear Oscar’s breathing. You’re about to repeat the question, but he finally talks, “What are you talking about?”

“Uh, I… I just asked if Lando was home?”

“Yeah, but you—” He goes silent again mid sentence, and then sighs. “He’s asleep, what do you need?”

You’re still utterly confused, but you try not to linger on deciphering his strange behavior any longer than you have to. “My printer broke and I need to print my essay by tonight, otherwise I’m totally screwed. Like, my whole future might depend on this. I thought maybe he could help…”

“No,” Oscar replies in a flat tone. He’s hard to work with— You’re tempted to just hang up and pay for someone to come fix it. Of course the library had to be shut down today. “But I can.” His voice is softer now, almost like he’s shy as he admits it.

“Really?” Your tone is laced with excitement and you visibly light up. Though, Oscar can’t see you, so he wouldn’t know.

“Yeah, I’ll head over now.”

“Thank you so much, Oscar. Seriously, you don’t know how much this means to me.”

“Don’t mention it. See you soon.”

“Yes, thank you-!” He abruptly hangs up, but you don’t care. You’re just happy your problem will soon be resolved.

You spend the next few minutes tidying the place up, making it look at least somewhat presentable for a guest. It’s not spotless when he knocks on the door, but you feel less ashamed for the moment. You invite Oscar in, showing him the printer you’re currently struggling with. He surveys the exterior, hand on his chin like a true professional.

“Why’d you say no when I asked if Lando could help?” Once again, you’re striking up conversation that seems easiest. You can’t really help in this situation, so you’re just sitting on the desk, your legs swinging on the edge.

“Because Lando doesn’t know the first thing about this type of stuff.” Oscar starts to disassemble some of the pieces. You’ve still got no idea what’s happening, so you just sit back and watch.

“And you do?”

“Yeah, well I’m about to get my degree in engineering, so I would hope that I do.” You get a glimpse of his true colors when he smiles. It’s soft and tender, like a warm blanket on a cold winter day; it’s something you’d like to wrap yourself in. It’s unfamiliar, but you like it. A lot. Which isn’t an easy revelation to face.

“I see,” you nod, unsure of how to carry the conversation forward. You dig within the depths of your mind, but all that comes out is another, “thank you so much for your help,” which is starting to feel like a new vocal stim with how many times you’ve said it in such a short span of time.

“Yeah.” Oscar steps aside, gesturing to the inside of your printer, which is composed of a bunch of mechanical things you won’t even attempt to properly name. “See here, your roller is started to wear out.”

You peek over his shoulder to see what the big deal is about. It takes a moment, but when he points directly to the piece in question, you start to understand what exactly he means. “So how do I fix it?”

“You’ll have to get a new one.” He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “But seeing as you’re on a time crunch, I think if you just…” He reaches down to fiddle with the piece, wiggling it around, “adjust it a bit, it’ll get you a few more uses.” He works to close things back up, and then gives to an approving nod. “Try it out.”

You slide off the desk, pulling the keyboard and mouse forward as you navigate to the paper you need to print. Before when you had hit print, it would tell you it was doing just that, and then nothing would come out. This time the machine whirrs to life and spits out a perfectly printed essay. “Ahh, you did it!” You cheer, turning to him and raising your hand. Neither of you really think about it as you high five. “You’re an actual life saver, how can I repay you?”

He gives you a look that, once again, is hard to read. If you didn’t know better you’d mistake it for pity, but surely your situation couldn’t have been that bad. “It’s no big deal, really.”

“Are you sure? At least let me make you something to drink. I’d feel bad if not.” He opens his mouth to argue, but you don’t let him. “I’m serious, c’mon!” And before Oscar knows it, he’s following you into your kitchen like a lost puppy. You ask him questions about his preferences and it ultimately ends in a mocktail you wouldn’t dare try, but Oscar seems satisfied with the results, which is all that matters ultimately. “I just don’t see how that could ever taste good?”

“Are you wanting to try it?” He asks with a little laugh. It’s a rare sound, specifically when it’s targeted towards you, but it melts your heart in a way that makes you stand on edge now. You’re not supposed to feel smitten by anyone, but especially not your— What do you even call Lando? Your situationship? Especially not your situationship’s roommate. That was far too messy, even for you.

“Not in the slightest.”

“Your loss.” He shrugs and takes another sip. You were nearly certain he’s pretending just so you don’t feel bad, but based on his reactions he seems to be thoroughly enjoying himself.

All good things must come to an end, because after he finishes his delectable beverage, Oscar excuses himself and bids you a polite, genuine farewell. When the door shuts behind him, you feel a burden lift itself from your shoulders. You feel lighter knowing that this man doesn’t harbor any resentment.

The change that occurred after that day was instantaneous. By now you had seen the soft side to Oscar Piastri— The side that flushed and quickly averted his gaze when you unintentionally made eye contact. The side that lightly teased, and then got all embarrassed when his jokes didn’t land. Looking past the rolling eyes and sarcasm, he was a man you found rather beguiling.

You always greeted him when entering the threshold of his living space. Even if you weren’t there for him, it seemed like the polite thing to do. But Oscar never replied. Or at least, not in a way that made it seem like he cared. He just hummed and nodded, walking away from the setting as soon as he could. Today, like clockwork, you greet him upon being let inside the dorm room. “Hi Oscar!” It’s almost second nature to address him with a friendly smile and cheery voice.

You’re ready for the dismissive hum, but it doesn’t make an appearance. “Morning, Y/N.” You nearly choke on your surprise it’s so palpable. He looks at you with a smile— A real, genuine one, and you feel like the whole world is caving in on you for just a split second. He eventually looks away, the tips of his ears shaded a deep red in typical Oscar fashion.

You try not to act shocked for much longer as you follow Lando into the kitchen, but your mind continuously drifted back to his roommate and how you had finally managed to break through his shell. This was a step in the right direction! However, you do take note of the way Lando���s jaw clenches when he walks in to you laughing at something Oscar said; It’s like rewatching the same movie, but the roles have been reversed.

You help Lando set up things around the house for the party he had been telling you about for weeks now. It was one of the first parties you had been invited to, and you were eager to assist him in the preparations. But it seemed your ideas of parties were drastically different things, because in your head you imagined decorating and making it look fun. Lando just wanted you to set out drinks and buy some snacks, which seemed a bit lackluster to you, but you didn’t question it. He was the master, after all.

…

“Do you like parties, Oscar?” Right, did I forget to mention that a certain Australian chose to tag along the trip to the grocery store? He said that he had some things to grab himself, but he didn’t seem particularly urgent to look for those things now that the two of you were actually there.

“No.”

“Really?” Your shock is evident. “Doesn’t it frustrate you that he uses your dorm room, then? If I hated parties and my roommate did that, I’d probably be mad.” You threw some chips into the cart that he was pushing, piling on to all the other junk you were planning to buy. All this just for one night, too… When you look to Oscar he’s simpering, lips barely curled up.

“He pays for half of it, so it’s fine if that’s what he chooses to do with the space.”

You whistle, and he follows as you continue down the aisle. “You’re a lot more patient and forgiving than I am.”

You don’t expect his patience to later be tested. To you, the party had been overwhelming right from the start. It felt like you were suffocating in a sea of people that already reeked of alcohol upon showing up, and to make it all worse the blinding lights and horrifically loud music made you feel like all your senses were being attacked at once.

You tried to stick by Lando’s side to soothe your nerves. Yet with him being the host, it seemed that people naturally flocked to him, which then led you to fall silent at his side, soberly watching drunk idiots behave like fools, left out from the festivities of the night. When the crowd disperses, leaving you alone with your man for just a moment, you’re quick to take advantage of the privacy.

“Where’s Oscar?”

That didn’t please him. Lando’s brows furrowed, his fingers anxiously tapping against the surface of the kitchen counter. “Why do you care?” His voice was low. If he weren’t so close, you wouldn’t have been able to hear him over the music.

“Just curious.” He rolls his eyes at your response, and you take a step back out of shock. He’s not usually this sassy— At least not with you. Maybe he wasn’t always a perfect gentleman, but he at least tried to appear nice.

“He’s studying like a lame ass. Look, I’m right here. Quit worrying about him, just relax and have a drink.” Lando pushes his cup towards you. You look down at the liquid and the indistinguishable color with the dozens of flashing LED lights.

You carefully push his hand away, shaking your head. “I don’t drink. You know this.”

“C’mon, it’s just one drink, it won’t kill you. It’ll take your mind off things-”

A hand snakes out from behind you, grabbing the red solo cup to pour it out into the sink you were leaning your hip against. You glance behind you from over your shoulder, tense body melting into a state of relaxation when you recognize Oscar’s face. He’s wearing a blank, monotone expression that states his roommate down. “They said no. Leave it be.”

Lando nods, his jaw clenched with unmistakable anger. It’s like the calm before a storm, appearing casual on the outside, but you can see the rage bubbling up behind his eyes. “What the fuck is this, anyway?” He spits out, taking you by surprise. “Are you guys fucking now?”

“What?” You yelp, face twisted in pure disapproval. “What the hell is wrong with you, Lando? Why would you ever say something like that?”

“Don’t think I haven’t noticed how close the two of you are. If you’re not actually fucking then you’re basically undressing each other with your eyes. Maybe we’re not exclusive, Y/N, but I thought maybe you’d have an ounce of loyalty.”

“I’m not sleeping with anyone, Lando. Just you!”

“You’ve had enough to drink,” Oscar states firmly. “Maybe it’s time for the party to end.”

“Whatever. Run away like you always do, jackass.” Lando shakes his head as if he’s been horribly wronged before he storms off, grabbing yet another beer from the counter on his way out. You sigh, trying to keep your composure when you’re surrounded by so many people.

Oscar places a hand on your shoulder, anchoring you to reality. He’s strong and he’s capable, both mentally and physically. For a moment you want to just melt away in the safety of his big arms. To let him console you from the insults that have stabbed you in the back, but you don’t want Lando to be right. “I can walk you home,” he offers quietly. You don’t say no.

Fresh air has never felt better than it does when you leave the dorm room. The music is muffled when the door shuts behind you, but you can still hear the deep bass mixed in with excited voices. The further the two of you walk, the more your surroundings become enveloped by the sounds of nature instead.

“Thank you,” you mutter quietly. Oscar’s walking closely beside you, his hands in the pockets of his sweatpants with practiced nonchalance. He tilts his head at you, encouraging you to carry on. “For your help, I mean. I… I know he means well, he’s just drunk.” You feel as though you’re saying that for your own comfort. Not for Oscar’s.

“It doesn’t matter if he’s drunk or not, he shouldn’t treat you like that.” You want to agree, and to confirm that you won’t ever see him again… But the truth is, you’re in too deep. A little mishap like this isn’t yet enough to scare you away when it really, truly should have been. Your silence speaks volumes to Oscar, and he sighs. “Y/N, I need to tell you something-”

“Not tonight.” He looks at you with wide eyes. You’ve reached your room, and you stand before your door, avoiding his gaze. “I can’t handle much more for tonight.”

“Alright.” He’d always respect your boundaries, which makes it more difficult to turn him away at your door. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Oscar.” He stays for a moment longer, even after you close the door. Oscar internally curses himself out for not being the gentleman you deserved. For not telling you what you deserved to know.

When you awake in the morning your phone is flooded with recent missed calls and apology texts. You naively forgive the man, despite your internal voice trying to guide you elsewhere.

You really shouldn’t have put your trust in a man infamous for his party-boy personality, because you’re only guaranteed to end up heartbroken once again. Lando owes you nothing but sexual tension. Not love, not loyalty, and most certainly not his fidelity. But you find yourself broken over his inevitable lack therefore of, especially after he only recently reprimanded you for a fake scenario he made up in his head.

It was your second time making the mistake of attending a party thrown by Lando, but in your own defense he had promised you again and again that these things would never happen again. That he would be more responsible when drinking and that all of that anger just stemmed from the alcohol. In your mind, you only hoped the night would end just as all the other ones hand. With whispered false hopes between quiet, desperate moans as bedsheets filtered through your fingertips.

No. Instead you found yourself once again missing out on the joys of celebration by sitting in the corner of the living room, trying to drown out the impossible: annoyingly loud music with words you couldn’t make out over the bustling crowds, and lights so bright your headache started to form the moment they were turned on.

But you didn’t miss this. You couldn’t. Because his hands were on another girl. The hands that once caressed your own bare skin, covered in arousal, were now running over the thighs of some unknown drunk girl who was loudly singing along to the music as she moved her body against his in hypnotic motions.

You wanted to run, but your instincts told you that the man before you needed to be humbled. You could smell the alcohol on him immediately, and when you tapped his shoulder he turned to look at you with that familiar, sleazy grin of his. You weren’t having it. “What happened to an ounce of loyalty?!” You have to yell over the sounds of the party.

“It doesn’t count, right? Just balancing it out! Plus, we’re not exclusive, anyway.”

“You- You were the one getting mad at me! For something I didn’t even do, by the way. You’re so- God, you’re so fucking insufferable!” You felt ridiculous as you fled the scene, going entirely unnoticed by anyone but Lando. It was unfair that a man could work his way into your heart and then turn around to do the same to another girl as if you never mattered, but at the same time… A part of you expected this.

You sat on the stairwell of his dorm building for what felt like hours, your knees pulled to your chest. You didn’t cry, because you didn’t feel shocked enough to, but you did contemplate every decision that led you to this all at once. When footsteps rang throughout the empty well, bouncing off the walls, you were on high alert, sitting up straight and looking over your shoulder.

Oscar descended the steps, silently sitting beside you. He handed you a cup full of ice cold water. You accepted it, but you didn’t yet drink. Just stared. Your shoulders brushed, and neither of you said a word. Silence spoke louder than words ever could.

But eventually, someone had to speak up. Oscar decided to face that burden alone. “I need to be honest with you. When you called me to come fix your printer, I was confused because… Well,” he scratches the back of his head. “He had someone over, and I thought it was you. That’s what I was trying to tell you the other night. I would have told you sooner, but I thought you guys weren’t serious or anything.” He sighed, troubled by the situation. “You don’t deserve a fling, Y/N.”

You turn to him, and he finally locks eyes with you, offering a look of consolation that works wonders to soothe your healing heart. “Then what do I deserve?”

“You deserve someone who treats you with respect. Who takes you seriously. Who… Who sticks up for you.”

You smile, albeit weakly. “So I deserve you?”

“Well, I-… I didn’t say that-”

“You were thinking it.” He laughs with flushed cheeks, looking down at the stairs with a sheepish nod before momentarily falling silent. You eventually reach over and cup his face to turn his head towards you.

He doesn’t pull away, but he does stop you from leaning in. “Don’t kiss me just because Lando messed up,” Oscar warns with a whisper, and he’s right to do so. He doesn’t want to be your rebound, both for your sake and his.

“I’m not,” your voice cracks. “I’m doing it because I want to. I want you.”

It seems so sudden, but when your lips meet in a tender kiss, you know this is right. He smiles against your skin, hand resting on the back of your head to pull you in closer. It’s not rough and fast like it was with Lando, but it’s tender. It’s long-lasting and considerate.

“We can take things slow,” he says softly as you pull away, your sadness replaced by a soothing sensation of elation.

“Yes, please.”

Take things slow you do. You don’t announce yourselves as an official couple, not even to each other, but you also know that this isn’t just another fling. That beneath your flirty kisses and the longing glances from across the room there’s something serious, but the relationship doesn’t define itself until Oscar snaps.

Your roommate is out of town, which meant you could invite him over for a movie night without having to keep things quiet in your room. Really, your intentions were innocent, but one thing led to another and he was on top of you, kissing you like a mad man. His hands slid up your pajama shirt just to caress your waist, soft thumbs brushing against your skin.

Oscar pulled away, lips trailing down your jawline to your collarbone, nuzzling his face against you. “You smell good.” His voice is sexily husky, right in your ear. He’s lost in your presence, the movie long forgotten behind him. He nuzzles his face against your neck, taking deep breaths to control himself. “Please,” he whispers.

“Please what?”

“Please let me have you. I want to make you feel good.” His voice cracks, and he almost sounds like he’s whining when he says it.

“Please,” you repeat his former words, giving him permission to take what he wants.

“Thank you,” he murmurs into your neck as his hands delicately yank off your shorts, his fingers then finding your folds through your panties to caress with his teasing, feather-like touch. “Thank you, thank you,” he repeats like a prayer. Oscar shifts back, strong hands pushing your legs up as he helps you out of your underwear now. He shamelessly sniffs the crotch, desperately inhaling your scent before tossing them aside, spreading your legs to get a whiff of the real thing.

“Wait-” He immediately stops to look up at you, his eyes starved with lust. “What are you doing?” It’s more of a rhetorical question. Like a ‘why’ rather than a ‘what?’

He kisses your inner thigh impatiently, pressing his hips into your mattress. “Do you not want me to?”

“I don’t know,” you admit softly, shyly. It takes so much restraint for him to now devour you then and there, but Oscar’s a strong-willed man that’s already proved to prioritize your comfort over all else. “I’ve never done that before.”

“Seriously? Never?” He’s sincerely shocked. “I promise to take good care of you, sweetheart,” his kisses trail closer to your center, but don’t yet cross the line. “If you don’t feel good, you can let me know and I’ll stop.”

“Okay.” You carefully pry your legs back open. His hands help you push them wide, displaying your bare cunt to his eager eyes. He takes a deep breath before he dives in, tongue slowly sliding over your spread folds. You relax into the mattress in hopes of thoroughly enjoying yourself.

It’s not hard to do with a starved man feasting on your pussy like it’s his last meal. Oscar starts slow— He’s taking his time with you, just like you’d expect. But every moan from your lips and tug of the hair from your hands sends him closer and closer to spiraling. He laps at your inner walls so gently while his fingers massage your swelling clit, drawing out soft mewls of pleasure.

You’re not the only one benefiting either. He sends soft vibrations straight to your stomach where your impending orgasm forms as he humps his constrained, aching cock against the bed, getting off at the sound of your delight alone. You feel your legs begin to spasm as you get closer to your climax, but before they can instinctively clamp down around his head, Oscar pins them back down, pressing his mouth further against you as you squeal and squirm.

“Oscar, please-” You tilt your head back, eyes shut. “Feels too good. I’m gonna fucking come- I’m so close.” He doesn’t say a word, he just continues to eat your delectable pussy as he gets himself off simultaneously. His moans grow to be high pitched and desperate, his own hips jerking as he fucks into the plush mattress with growing fervor.

When your orgasm arrives, you can’t even speak. Your mouth just hangs open and your eyes nearly go cross as pleasure washes over your whole body. He continues to move his lips in a hypnotic manner, devouring every drop of arousal that you give him. When the initial pleasure fades, you finally let out a deep moan as your body melts back into a state of relaxation.

You’re gasping for air, chest heaving as you come down from the intense high. Oscar rises to his knees, wiping his mouth with his hand. His breathing matches yours: heavy. “Nearly came in my pants there,” he says, followed by a short laugh. You laugh from the exhilaration. “I told you I’d make you feel good.”

He scoops you into his arms, hovering over you as he kisses your lips, nibbling on the bottom one. “I didn’t realize it was possibly to feel that good.” You hum, basking in the attention he’s giving while he peppers your face in light pecks. “But what about you?”

“What about me?”

“I want you to feel good, too.”

Oscar laughs and kisses your forehead. “I do feel good.” Based on your slight frown, he can tell you’re not satisfied with that answer. “You’re sore, aren’t you? I don’t want to push it.”

“Please, Osc, I want you inside me.”

It’s hard to say no to that.

“Alright,” he says, leaning back on his knees to slide his boxers and sweatpants down. You shamelessly eye his freed cock, which is already flushed and leaking with excitement. He’s big, bigger than anything else you’ve taken, but with Oscar you don’t feel intimidated. “Let me know if anything hurts.”

He teases your folds, rubbing the tip along the wet surface before slowly pushing himself in. His breath hitches, eyes squeezing shut. He has to take a moment to breathe before he continues, sliding in all the way to the base of his cock.

“I’m trying so hard not to come just from this,” he speaks breathily, earning a short laugh from you. He laughs a second after, burying his face in your neck and wrapping his arms around your waist. “You’re so warm… So relaxed.” He knows he’s making you feel good, because he’s already learned to read your body perfectly. Plus, your soft moans give it away. He’d have that sound burnt into his memory if he could. Hell, he’d even get it tattooed.

“It feels good,” you murmur encouragingly. With your words in mind, Oscar slowly begins to thrust. Every shift of his hips sends a wave of pleasure right to your brain, activating every nerve in your body to tingle with excitement.

“I’m not gonna last long,” he warns. You just feel so good wrapped around him, your body trusting his. He gets off on nothing more than knowing you’re comfortable and that you feel good. It’s quite sweet.

“Me neither, it’s okay…”

After you come around his cock, writhing in delight, he pulls himself out, dripping in your arousal, and paints your stomach with his cum. Oscar whimpers, a sound that has every part of you fluttering, spurt after spurt of arousal shooting from his tip. When he’s done, he collapses on top of you, his arms wrapped around you as he rolls over onto his side, kissing your collarbone and neck generously.

“I love you so much, thank you,” he whines breathily. “I want you to be mine, forever.” He’s practically pleading.

“I am,” you reassure.

“I want you to say it.” It’s not a demand, but rather him begging with desperation.

“I’m yours, Osc. Forever.”

“Thank you.”

[midnightzonzz]

PAWN - DAEMON TARGARYEN X READER

About: Reader doesn’t care about her father’s endeavors to take over the iron throne with his own blood. He tried using her as a pawn in his game. Too bad she’d rather be a pawn in the Targaryen’s game, a double agent of sorts. And her reward? Being railed by the Rogue Prince himself.

Warnings: NSFW, MDNI, Hightower!Reader, oral (f), rough sex, spanking, praise, hair pulling, porn with little to no plot, nor proof read like at all so ignore any spelling errors lol

Word Count: 2.5k

A/N: Daemon Targaryen x Fem!Reader. This is my first time writing for the HOTD/GOT fandom so I hope you guys enjoy! Borders are made by @/cafekitsune. Don’t like, don’t read!

Your father had always expected you to be a pawn in his little game. You were his eldest daughter, in your mid-twenties, and unmarried. Being unmarried was merely by choice as you did not want to be shackled down by the weights of a man who would do nothing more than use you to pop out heirs to take on his lordship once he passed. While Otto Hightower had been adamant against it at first, as time grew in King’s Landing and tensions arose, he became alright with it. Because then, he could use you to help gain his flesh and blood onto the Iron Throne.

It had helped that he already whored his youngest daughter out to the King. Might as well use you to gain information amongst those in King’s Landing that may know about the true succession to the Throne upon the King’s death.

Little did your father know, however, that your loyalty to the House of Hightower diminished the day he manipulated Alicent to seducing the King. You felt strongly about that as your younger sister had been nothing more than a child, she didn’t deserve to be treated like an object. Since that fateful day, your loyalty has lied with House Targaryen. And you’d do anything to ensure Rhaenyra got her proper place on the Iron Throne whenever King Viserys’ passing is to come as she was and will forever be the rightful heir to the throne.

One day, after learning something of your father’s plans, you had taken it upon yourself to tell someone, anyone that could figure out what to do. And the first person you had bumped into had been the Rogue Prince himself, Daemon Targaryen. Daemon may be many things but he was always loyal to his family and to his house. So you had told him everything you knew in the privacy of his quarters to ensure no one had been listening.

To say he rewarded you would be an understatement. He basked you in pleasures that you hadn’t known could be possible for a woman. Fucking had always been something only men could gain from. And yet, when Daemon was on his knees, eating you out like a starved man deprived of the finest wines of Westeros, he showed you that women were deserving of pleasure as well.

A routine was formed after that fateful day, one that allowed you both to maintain your lives while maintaining each other.

There were no feelings involved, there hardly ever was in such situations anyways. But it was mutually beneficial and that was what you adored about it. You gave information, Daemon showed all of the ways to be pleasured. And so, a routine was formed. You’d spend your days being the perfect daughter to your father, doing anything and everything he said. And then, once a week, you’d go behind your father’s back and tell Daemon absolutely everything, ending your night with moans of his name as he does whatever he wants to your cunt all in the name of pleasure.

Very fair balance in your professional opinion.

This week in particular had been a long week. Your father tried his hardest to keep up his plans, to manipulate the King into doing his bidding. You would spend nights hearing about your father’s plans, awaiting for any tasks he needed you to do. And when he did, you did them as the amazing daughter you were. It got particularly rough when one of the tasks he had sent you on was to infiltrate one of the brothels that Daemon frequented to learn information about the blond prince’s plans. It had ultimately led to you being groped by men you didn’t particularly care for.

And so, when your night with Daemon arrived, you explained everything to him. It had been clear from the moment you walked in that you were quite stressed from the week’s events. And when you explained everything to him, he had a sympathetic pout on his lips.

“You must’ve suffered greatly,” he exclaimed, making his way over to you. You stood near the fireplace, watching the fire as you had explained the mishaps of the week. “Especially on Silk Street.”

You hummed in acknowledgment, turning to look at the blond that was now standing beside you. “It’s been quite an…eventful week, I suppose,” you replied.

“Then perhaps you deserve to be rewarded for your troubles, hm?” Daemon smirked as he placed his hands on your hips. “What does the fine lady wish for tonight?”

You smirked back, biting your bottom lip. You shrugged your shoulders. “Do you have anything in mind, my prince?” You asked, tilting your head at the man.

Daemon let out a low chuckle as he pulled you close to himself. His hands went from your hips to your ass, gently massaging the flesh through your dress. “I may have an idea or two,” he responded, his breath fanning your face.

The fact of the matter was that he always preferred to give you pleasure as that was the agreement after all. But he craved to fuck you, to feel your walls around him, to hear you screaming his name as he pounded into you. And so, that was his plan for tonight.

At first, he went about his normal business with you. Daemon, a man of many talents, loved to use his tongue on you. The feeling of your thighs clenching around his face while his tongue was covered in your juices, selfishly, did not fail to make him practically cum in his pants. He spent many nights jerking himself off after the endeavors with you because he couldn’t help but wish to die between your thighs. You tasted like the gods themselves blessed you so that he could devour you.

You laid on the bed, completely naked with your legs spread, as Daemon ravished you. His arms were wrapped around your thighs, his hands resting on your pelvis, as his tongue did its magic. He licked figure eights around your clit, lapping his tongue around your cunt. He took pleasure in hearing the whiny noises of pleasure you made as they sounded so much better than the whores he’s slept with. You were quiet, reserved, still careful to not ruin your innocent facade. He couldn’t wait to make you scream.

Daemon sucked on your clit, eliciting a loud moan from your lips as you tugged at his hair. “Oh my,” you gasped, throwing your head back in pleasure.

It didn’t take a genius to know you were close. With your chest heaving and whimpers getting louder, Daemon continued his ministrations on your pussy, ready for you to clench your thighs around him. If he wasn’t already married to his bitch of a wife, perhaps he’d be willing to take you as his with how much he adored making you cum. Even if neither of you loved one another, at least the sexual chemistry was more than good, perhaps he’d even be loyal to you with a cunt that fantastic.

And with a few more laps and a suck on your clit, you were moaning as you arched your back, clenching your thighs around Daemon’s head. He couldn’t help the low chuckle that escaped him, sending vibrations onto your cunt. After a few minutes, you relaxed back onto the mattress, eyes glazed with pleasure.

Daemon pulled away as he licked his lips and stood up, looking down at you with a heated gaze. You sat up, ready to get up and leave as you usually did after he made you cum. But Daemon simply shook his head. “We’re not done yet, darling,” he exclaimed, a smirk on his lips. “Tonight, I’m going to show you just how a man can fuck a woman and make it good for her.”

A whimper left your mouth at Daemon’s words. You bit your bottom lip as you looked up at him. He was already undressing himself, removing all garments. As his torso was revealed, you couldn’t help but stare. You couldn’t help but look, seeing the scars that painted his body in such a way that made him even more beautiful than he was. His battle scars, proof that he fought to protect King’s Landing. “Beautiful,” You whispered, unable to stop the word from leaving your mouth.

Daemon’s smug and confident demeanor softened just a fraction. He knew he was handsome, that came with the Targaryen genes. But to be told he was beautiful was something else. He quickly returned to the task at hand, not allowing himself to be seen as affected by something as pathetic as a simple word. He pulled down his breeches, revealing himself to you.

It was a bit surprising he wasn’t wearing underwear, especially as he was a dragonrider. But that thought was nothing more than a fleeting moment as you couldn’t help but look at his length. Daemon may act like he’s compensating for something with that attitude of his but in actuality, what is there to compensate for when he has a cock that big?

He stroked himself a few times, letting out a hiss of pleasure, while looking at you in the process. “Turn over,” he commanded. You obeyed without hesitation, turning onto your stomach. You held yourself up by your hands and knees, earning a hum of appreciation from Daemon. “Good girl,” he murmured before standing at the edge of the bed. He grabbed your ankles and pulled you closer to him.

His words sent a shiver down your spine, eliciting a small noise from your lips. You waited in anticipation for Daemon to line his cock up to your cunt. But instead, you felt his hand come down to your ass, slapping the skin. You hissed in pain, unable to help the moan from leaving your lips. You didn’t realize it would be pleasurable, being hit by a man on your behind. But it was and you couldn’t deny the way your pussy clenched around nothing.

“Liked that, didn’t you?” Daemon asked, massaging the flesh of your ass. “Naughty girl,” he said as he spanked you again. You once again clenched around nothing, a needy moan leaving your lips.

And without any further hesitation, Daemon gripped his cock and guided it to your cunt. The both of you made small noises of pleasure as his tip grazed your clit. “You’re so wet,” he breathed out, dragging his cock up and down your slit. He did it a few times, spreading your wetness along his length.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity but was really just a few seconds, the tip of Daemon’s cock teased your entrance before slowly easing himself inside of you. You gasped at the intrusion, allowing your eyes to flutter shut as you tried to adjust. Daemon let out a groan of satisfaction, grateful to finally be inside of your tight cunt. He allowed you time to adjust as he stayed still, not wanting to hurt you as this was about your pleasure after all.

It took a bit of getting used to. You’ve slept with others before. You thought of yourself as a rebel of sorts, not caring much for virtue or virginity. But the men you’ve slept with, which was really only two prior to Daemon, had not been as big as he was. After a few minutes, you relaxed, letting out a sigh of contentment. “You can move,” you said, your voice soft but shaky.

“With pleasure,” Daemon replied. He pulled his hips back and then thrusted them forward again, causing you to gasp as his cock moved inside of you. His movements were slow as he got you used to the feeling. “You’re no virgin,” he murmured as he gripped your hips. “My dirty girl,” he chuckled. The realization that you weren’t a virgin spurred Daemon on more as he began moving harder.

You gasped and let out a choked moan. The feeling of Daemon’s cock pounding into you felt so good. Each slight brush to your cervix, the way your walls wrapped around him so perfectly, it was as though the two of you were made to have sex with one another. “Oh,” You whimpered out, eyes closing as you basked in the pleasures.

“God, you feel so good,” Daemon grunted, moving his hips faster as he kept his harsh thrusts. “So tight, so wet.”

“Daemon,” You moaned as he put a hand on your lower back, pushing you down. You moved your arms out from under you, allowing your upper body to rest on the mattress. The slight change in position made Darmon hit that spot inside of you dead on, causing your moans to get louder.

Daemon was making his own noises of grunts and low chuckles as he fucked you. He kept one hand on your lower back while the other moved to your hair. He entwined his fingers with the strands as he pounded into you even harder, pulling your hair.

The sting from your hair being pulled added to the pleasure you felt. You let out a choked moan of “Oh fuck,” feeling that familiar heat building inside of you.

“You’re taking me so well,” Daemon exclaimed. He could feel himself getting close. His other hand moved around you, his fingers going straight to your clit. He began rubbing circles, causing you to moan even louder. “You make such beautiful noises, sweetheart,” he said, keeping up his rough pace. “You’re so close, I can feel how tight you’re clenching around me. Go ahead and cum for me, yeah?”

The feeling of Daemon’s harsh thrusts mixed with the pain and his fingers on your clit was more than enough to send you over the edge. And with a loud mewl of his name, you started cumming, thighs quivering as you buried your face in the mattress below you.

“Fuck,” Daemon moaned as he closed his eyes in pleasure, basking in the feeling of you cumming around his cock. It took only a few more thrusts before he was pulling out and cumming on your ass, groaning your name as he did so. When you both came down from your highs, you collapsed onto the mattress, still on your stomach. Daemon laid down next to you, breathing heavily.

There wasn’t any cuddling or sweet nothing whispered to one another. However, after a few minutes, Daemon had gotten up and grabbed a cloth, wiping his seed off of you. And while he did so, he pressed kisses along your back. It wasn’t much but it was something. And honestly, something that you hadn’t expected from the Rogue Prince.

The following week, you hadn’t even gotten a chance to tell Daemon anything because as soon as you walked into his room and closed the door, he had you sit on his lap and ride him until you’ve had your fill. You were his little pawn but in some way, he was yours too. Because Daemon, a man who preferred his whores, was so enraptured by you and your body.

[midnightzonzz]

Public enemy number 1

Hungary 2025

Warnings: smut, blowjobs, plot (crazy I know), voyeurism?, return of sub!lando, and mommy kink ;), references to bahrain, also obvious references to certain events that happened in hungary, not proofread

One of the boys masterlist

Lando kissing you in front of the cameras in the paddock was not on anyone's 2025 bingo card.

And yet, in a wave of intense euphoria, he ran up to you, grabbed your face and kissed you.

Everyone stared, and then as soon as it started, it was over. He pulled away and ran into Zak's arms.

Your face was burning, and you could feel the eyes on you, and the cameras, and knew any minute now you'd be swamped by press. So you slinked away into the crowd, as discreetly as you could.

Later, in your hotel room you were scrolling twitter, and the many headlines about you.

Some people were freaking out, deciding then and there that you were Lando's secret girlfriend.

Some were insulting you, calling you names and being all around jealous about your alleged relationship with him.

Others were annoyed at the disrespect of it being broadcasted in the middle of Oscar's interview.

A few were calling you a whore for being friends with all the drivers. (What the fuck?)

You sighed.

On your way out of the paddock you'd been intercepted by Ted Kravitz, who'd asked you about the kiss, and despite not having a PR team you decided to put out a statement.

"Lando and I are NOT dating. I guess it was a spur of the moment thing and he wasn't thinking. I'm not dating anyone on the grid for that matter. I'm friends with all the drivers and we often hang out, that is all. I'm just one of the boys..."

That may have been enough for Ted, but the tabloids were rife with speculation and rumours. As per usual, you thought.

Just when you were halfway through an article about your supposed past relationship with Max Verstappen (what the fuck?), you recieved a text from Lando.

I'm so fucking sorry

I wasn't thinking

Are you okay? It's bad over here... Zak is furious about it and I've had to write an official statement

You couldn't help but feel bad for him. It may have been a stupid thing to do but no one deserves the kind of shit he was probably up to his neck in.

Your statement to Ted did help though, got ahead of the curve so... thanks.

Are you pissed off?

You decided to call him.

"Hello? Are you okay?"

You sighed. "I'm fine, Lan. To be honest I'm finding it all hilarious. Did you see the article about me being some kind of FIA mandated nanny for you all?"

He laughed. "I have not, but I'm glad you're taking this so well. I'm so sorry."

"That's okay. But I am going to have to give you a stern talking to. You want to come over and apologise properly?"

You heard a soft gasp on the other end. Lando wasn't expecting you to want to see him.

"I have another meeting in a minute. Give me a couple of hours and I'll be there"

You smiled. Lando could always be counted on to show up if you offered sex, the insatiable idiot.

You decided to pamper yourself and had a shower followed by some expensive room service.

One plate of carbonara later, you were back scrolling through increasingly ludicrous theories about your constant presence in the paddock.

A knock sounded at the door though, and you frowned at the clock on the bedside table. Lando would be at least another hour.

You crept to the door, suddenly worried that some reporter, or god forbid a Lando fanatic, had found you.

You looked through the peephole and let out an incredulous laugh when you saw who was waiting outside.

"Good evening"

"Ollie, what the hell are you doing here?"

You let him in and he went to sit on the bed.

"My car died"

You laughed. "And what do you want from me, a funeral procession?"

He pouted, a soft whine escaping him as he flopped onto his back.

"Okay I'll tell you what."

He perked up.

"Either I give you a blowjob now, and you leave. Or you wait about an hour and you can watch me torture Lando."

His eyes widened and you could see he was seriously thinking about it. It wasn't every day he got to see a championship contender be made to submit.

He gulped. "I'll wait"

You grinned. "Good. In that case would you like anything to drink while we wait? He's going to be a while..."

Ollie's eyes lit up as he remembered the earlier drama. "Because of what happened in the paddock?"

You nodded. "Apparently the bosses are not happy with him"

He hummed, accepting a glass of water from you before giving you a naughty look.

"So what are you going to do to him?"

You smiled and settled down next to him.

"No idea. I need to make him beg for forgiveness, any ideas?"

Ollie was silent for a while as he thought about it.

"Maybe... you could tie him up and make him watch us?"

You laughed. "Nice try. But no, he hates that. I've got the scar to prove it"

You pointed to you thigh and Ollie's eyes bugged out of his head.

"That's what that is? Holy shit."

You ran your thumb along the bite mark, feeling the slight bumps of the scar.

"Yeah, in fact it happened right after I saw you at the palace in Bahrain"

He hummed, hand going to your thigh to inspect it more closely.

"And you weren't angry with him?"

You shook your head. "No. It was caused by an all around lack of communication. Boundaries were unknowingly crossed and that happens sometimes. Obviously I wish he hadn't bitten me to get a point across but hey, you live and you learn. And Lando knows not to do that again or I'll kill him"

Ollie let out a surprised laugh and lay back down on the bed.

The comfortable silence stretched on. Your mind wandered back to the man who was going to walk through that door in a while, and what you were going to do to him.

You eyes snapped to the boy next to you.

"Ollie?"

"Hmm?"

"How would you feel about getting a blowjob from Lando Norris?"

Ollie was hard before Lando even got there. You hadn't shared the extent of your plan, but a blowjob is a blowjob, and you'd assured him that Lando was no slouch at blowjobs.

Lando was confused when he walked in and spotted Ollie, sitting politely in the armchair next to the bed.

"Don't worry about him, he's not the one you need to apologise to"

Lando bit his lip when his eyes met yours. He looked like a kicked puppy.

"What do you want me to do?"

You cocked a brow at him.

"Dunno, how badly do you want forgiveness?"

He blinked once, then sank down to his knees in front of you. He shuffled forwards curling his hands around your thighs while looking up at you.

"Please"

You smirked, and looked at Ollie. His eyes were dark as he stared at the man on his knees.

"See Ollie? My boys get on their knees so easily when I threaten to take away their treats"

He held back a chuckle, and you noticed the telltale twitch of arousal in his thighs.

Lando whimpered and nuzzled against your thigh.

"Please. I didn't mean to, I won't do it again. I promise. I'm sorry."

You stroked his hair tenderly for a second, reveling in his patheticness, then went to sit on the edge of the bed.

"Come and show me how sorry you are, then"

He rushed forwards, almost tripping over in his haste, and helped you quickly get your pants and underwear off.

He whined at the sight of your naked form before spreading your legs. "Can I?" He asked, fingers inching toward your inner thighs.

You nodded and he let out the breath he was holding, and allowed himself a second before diving in, tongue first.

As expected, he was very enthusiastically trying to earn your forgiveness. His nose and cheeks very quickly covered in your wetness, and your pleasured moans just served to make him want to hear more.

You let him push you down onto the mattress and lift your legs over his shoulders to get a better angle.

Your hands tangled in his hair and you pulled him against you harder, which he didn't complain about, hips jumping and spreading wetness further.

One of his hands crept it's way to your dripping hole, collecting some moisture before pluging inside you.

Your legs twitched around his head and you felt his smile against you, and he added another finger.

He dragged them along your walls, all the while concentrating his oral efforts on your clit, alternating between long broad licks, and flicking it lazily.

You could feel your orgasm coming, body clenched tight as you rode the waves that only increased in intensity the longer he went on.

He gave your pussy one last suck before giving you some respite, and a minute to recompose yourself.

"Can I please fuck you?" He panted, looking wrecked and wet.

Your eyes caught sight of Ollie in the corner, jaw slack and hand squeezing himself through his jeans.

You looked at Lando, and gave him a wicked smile.

"No"

He stared at you, frown visible. "What?"

"You're going to earn the right to fuck me by sucking Ollie's cock for me"

His jaw dropped, and you heard a soft gasp from Ollie's side of the room.

Lando gulped. He wasn't expecting this tonight.

You pulled him up for a kiss. It was quite messy due to the come smeared on his skin, but his passion made up for it.

"Go on" you whispered. "Show Ollie what a good boy you can be..."

Ollie was on cloud nine within 30 seconds of Lando getting his lips around him. It would seem he was extra eager to please and was taking him down his throat expertly.

Ollie let out little cut-off moans on every downstroke and his fingers were buried in Lando's curls.

"Is he good?"

Ollie glanced at you, eyes slightly unfocused.

"Yeah, so fucking good"

"Then tell him, he thrives on praise"

He looked back down at the man on his knees and he almost lost his nerve when he saw those big watery eyes staring back.

"You're doing good, Lando. Taking me like a champ"

Lando hummed, and took him all the way down, rubbing his tongue along the underside.

"Fuck" Ollie groaned. "Good boy..."

Lando shivered and you raised an eyebrow. Ollie was a natural.

"I'm close, you gonna take it?" He panted, squirming in his seat a bit. "Gonna swallow it all like a good boy?"

Lando moaned around him and Ollie grunted, coming down his throat while Lando swallowed it all obediently.

He pulled off and heaved in a breath, coughing slightly at the taste.

"And what do we say?" You prompted.

"Thank you" Lando rasped.

You smiled at him. "Good boy, now come here and let me ride you"

He groaned, and made his way, wobbly as fuck, over to the bed and all but threw his clothes off before laying down.

You giggled at his burst of speed and straddled him.

His cock was understandably angry, tip leaking as you wrapped a hand around it. He whimpered at finally being touched and you spat on it to lube him up a little.

Just as you were hovering over him though, you were interrupted by Ollie's tiny voice.

"Do you want me to leave or...?"

You laughed. "You can do what you like Ollie. If I wanted you gone I would've said. But if you want to see Lando cry I'd recommend staying" you winked at him and he sat right back down hastily.

The look Lando gave you almost made you burst out laughing. He looked more distraught than you'd ever seen him.

"Don't worry baby, you'll get to come. But not before I've had my fill, okay?"

Lando nodded reluctantly.

You sank down on his cock in one heavy thrust, and he howled, hands flying to your hips reflexively.

"Fuck" he whined.

You smiled, and bounced on him at a rough pace. His stomach was already twitching and as soon as you noticed him losing his ability to speak you pulled off.

His cock throbbed, and he groaned in pain at the denial of his impending orgasm.

You waited barely a minute, then sank back down on him, carrying on like before.

"I told you Lando, I'm getting off first. Want to lend me a hand?"

He grabbed your hips and planted his feet on the mattress for leverage and started fucking up into you in earnest.

That wasn't what you'd meant but you appreciated the effort none the less. Indeed, with the change of angle he was pounding into your sweet spot dead-on and you couldn't help the moans that tumbled from your lips.

"Please tell me you're close" he whined, tears springing to his eyes with how desperate he was.

"Not close enough baby" you could feel him tensing up again, getting too close for your liking, and you slapped his hands away and pulled off.

He scrunched his eyes shut and tried to breathe through it, but he inevitably let out a sob as his body trembled.

You stroked his cheek, wiping the falling tears away, and sank back down on him, but without moving once you were settled.

You took one of his hands and pressed it to your lower stomach, and he finally got the hint.

His thumb rubbed messy circles over your clit, and the mix of distress and concentration on his face made you feel... powerful.

You rolled your hips gently, enough to stimulate you but not enough to get him off, and Lando was relieved when he felt you clenching around him uncosciously.

You came on his cock, thighs squeezing his hips, and soft moans making Lando's head spin.

Lando was shaking like a leaf beneath you, and once you regained the feeling in your legs you moved up and down his cock, extra wetness making it squelch.

"Can I come now?" His voice trembled, he'd somewhat calmed down.

You slipped two fingers in his mouth and ordered him to suck. He did.

His eyes were rolling back, you were going just slightly too slow. He was right on the edge, and his voice was raw (and muffled) when he spoke.

"Please. Please I'm so close."

"You want to come?"

"Yes" he squeaked when you purposefully clenched around him.

"Want me to go faster?"

"Yes" Tears of frustration welled in his eyes.

"Beg"

"Please, please, please. I need to come, please"

"Please what?"

"Please Mommy. Need to come so bad, fuck"

His words were still muffled by your fingers and it was so fucking pathetic you decided to finally let him. Your hips slammed down on him harder.

"Good boy. Come, now"

He wailed, body seizing up as he came deep inside you, and his hands once again found your hips to push you further onto his cock.

"Fuck, yes! Thank you" he groaned, and you could feel his muscles giving up little by little as he slumped beneath you, completely spent.

You leaned over him, peppering kisses all over his face.

"You okay?"

"Yes" he smiled softly.

"And will you pull a stunt like that again?"

He chuckled. "Fuck no. As much as I like being punished by you, the shitstorm at McLaren definitely isn't worth it..."

"Good answer" you giggled, and gave him one last kiss before getting off him.

You glanced at Ollie who was hard as a rock and looking very unsure or what to say or do.

You winked at him.

"Now then, last one in the bathroom is getting fucked"

Ollie jumped up and ran to the bathroom, which really wasn't necessary given that Lando was not quite yet capable of moving.

"Oh fuck you" he groaned.

"I'm just kidding, babe. Ollie is fucking me, and you are free to join at any time."

He gave you a thumbs up and you stepped into the ensuite, and cackled at the sight of the entirely naked man standing politely next to the shower.

"Milady..."

It was adorable, really. He was so earnest an eager to please, almost like Lando when you first met him all those years ago...

This one might not even need to be properly trained, you thought as you stepped under the water, the temperature juuuust right.

[midnightzonzz]

Pole-sitter

Hungary 2025

Warnings: smut, implied sub!charles, blowjobs and cowgirl (that could be the name of my autobiography)

One of the Boys masterlist

The sudden realisation dawned on Charles as soon as he spotted you lingering near his driver's room.

He was so bewildered by the fact that he'd managed to pull off pole position, he'd entirely forgotten about you.

That is, until you were in his lap, devouring him on his couch.

Your breaths mingled in the quiet of his room, his hands slowly making their way under your shirt.

"It has been a while..." he sighed.

His breath stuttered when you pulled his head back by his hair.

"It has indeed" you smirked, running your lips over the curve of his jaw. "You need to get more poles if you want to see me more often"

He groaned low in his throat, your hand had found its way into his jeans, popping the button to slip inside and feel him stiffen under your touch.

"What do you want me to do to you?"

The question hung in the air for a moment. You both knew what Charles really wanted, but that wasn't going to happen unless he got a win, so he had to think about it.

"I want you to get on your knees"

You grinned, slipping down onto the carpeted floor between his spread legs.

He pushed his pants and underwear down hastily, and you watched his hard cock twitch in anticipation.

The first touch of your lips against his tip made him shiver, and already you could taste the tang of precum on your tongue.

You licked up the underside, maintaining eye contact with Charles, and his gaze darkened as his jaw went slack.

Just as he was about to start begging, you finally you took him properly into your mouth and sucked long, and hard.

He whined and his hips shook with the effort of holding them still for you.

"Fuck..." he rasped. "I'd forgotten how good you are at that"

You winked and carried on, taking him further down little by little, using your hand on the part you couldn't reach.

It had been so long, and your mouth was so warm and wet, that Charles knew he wasn't going to last long at all.

Your other hand went to cup his balls, and then it was only seconds until you felt them tighten.

You pulled off however, and Charles let out a distressed moan at the loss of your mouth.

"What was that for?" He whined, and you lifted a brow.

"Are you complaining?"

His eyes widened and he quickly backtracked with a shake of his head.

"No- no of course not!"

"That's what I thought..."

You stood up and took your own pants off, then straddled him.

"I'm going to ride you, Charlie." You whispered into his ear, and he shivered. "And you don't come until I do, capisce?"

He nodded, and his hands went to hold your waist as you lined yourself up with him.

"Good boy" you smirked, and his eyes rolled back when you sank down on him in one go, and groaned at the stretch.

You swallowed his moans, grinding your hips and cupping his cheeks as you shared a passionate kiss.

With the first bounce on his cock, his hands tightened on your hips and he helped you keep a steady, deep pace as you rode him. It had been a while indeed, but he still knew exactly how you liked it, and you remembered exactly how he liked it. Long and hard.

The head of his cock pressed deep inside you, and his eyes darted to the slight bulge in your lower belly, before he started whimpering as he realised his orgasm was closer than he thought it was.

"You gonna be a good boy and help me, Charles?"

He nodded, sucking a thumb into his mouth to wet it before bringing it down to where you were joined to circle your clit gently.

The pressure was just right, and your thrusts turned into a desperate roll of your hips as you chased your high. His other hand weaved its way into your hair to drag you back towards him and crashed his lips to yours.

He swallowed your moans, bodies moving together in a wave of desperation, and soon he felt you shudder on top of him and your cunt tighten around him.

"Come, baby. Come inside me, good boy" You groaned into his neck, gasping for breath as you gave him permission, and the praise went straight to his head as he bucked his hips inside you a couple of times before his own mind-numbing orgasm washed over him, and you felt his come leak out of you as he fucked it in as deep as he could.

You caught your breaths like that, tangled in each other, soothing hands tracing patterns into each other’s skin as you kissed lazily.

"That was nice" he sighed quietly.

"You did good today, Charles" you smiled into it, teasingly nibbling on his bottom lip. "Really good. I'm so proud of you..."

He groaned. "Stop praising me or I'll get hard again..."

You just smirked at him.

"What makes you think I only came for one round?"

[midnightzonzz]

fast learner ⛐ 𝐎𝐏𝟖𝟏

oscar teaches you everything you need to know before your date with lando.

ꔮ starring: oscar piastri x best friend!reader. ꔮ word count: 8.5k. ꔮ includes: smut, romance. profanity. pwp, soft dom!oscar-ish, oral [f & m], fingering, dry humping. inexperienced!reader, oscar talks you through it, he is a teensy 🤏 bit manipulative, just pure smut :(, lando haunts the narrative. title only kind of from niki’s backburner (which could mean nothing,,). ꔮ commentary box: hi, oh my gosh, i don’t think i’ve ever written pwp this long in my life. i’m kind of mortified (especially with the fact this has some >2k more words i shaved off). anyway, this was commissioned, tysm!!! 📑 𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Oscar Piastri is a patient man.

He has to be. With the way you barrel into his life and make yourself at home—your duffle bag always one laundry cycle away from living in his flat full-time, your half-drunk coffees trailing behind you like breadcrumbs, your laugh breaking over his ribs every time you tease him about being the most boring twenty-something alive—patience is the only option.

He thinks of himself as quiet. You call him steady. Reliable. “You’re my favorite person to do nothing with,” you said once, tucked under the same throw blanket, both of you half-asleep while a movie played on loop. The confession buzzed in his ears for days.

So, yes. Oscar Piastri is a patient man. But we never said he was a good one. 

Not when you turn up on his doorstep tonight, eyes glinting with something soft and nervous curling behind your lashes. He knows that look. It’s the one that makes his stomach sink and his throat tighten because he’s seen it before, but never has it been directed at him.

You perch on the edge of his kitchen stool like the ground might shift under you. You twist the end of your sleeve in your hands. He hates that you’re fidgeting. He hates that you’re nervous. Mostly, he hates that it’s not because of him.

“Lando asked me out,” you breathe. 

Oscar resists the urge to frown. “Okay.”

You look up at him, a hesitant smile twitching at the corner of your mouth. “That’s all you’re gonna say?”

“Should I say more?” he asks, deadpan, leaning against the counter. His arms are crossed over his chest, mostly so he doesn’t do something stupid. Like reach for you.

“I don’t know. I thought maybe… you’d be surprised. Or weird about it.”

“I’m not weird about it,” he lies, “and I’m not surprised. Lando would be stupid not to want you.”

You smile again, soft, grateful. It kills him.

Then the smile drops, and you sigh—one of those long, full-body exhales. Your fingers tap against the countertop. Once. Twice. “I’m nervous,” you admit.

He studies you. I can see that, he nearly says, but he settles instead with, “Why? You’ve known Lando for years.”

“Yeah, but not like this.”

You won’t look at him. That tells him everything. Still, he waits. Patient, as ever. “I haven’t really done… a lot,” you murmur, eyes trained to the ceiling.

“Done?”

You glance at him then, briefly, face hot. “Sex. Stuff.”

He has to look away for a minute. Heat licks up the back of his neck, settles low in his gut. His arms tighten over his chest. The air shifts between you, dense and humming. You’re still talking, voice too delicate, too open.

“I just don’t want to disappoint him,” you babble. “Like, what if he expects me to know things? Or be a certain way? And I’m just me?”

Oscar turns his head, slowly, forcing himself to meet your gaze. You’re chewing your bottom lip raw, eyes downcast. There’s that part of you—unguarded, genuine, scared—that you never show anyone else. He knows it like he knows his own hands.

“You’re not just anything,” he says. It comes out harder than he meant it to; his throat feels like it’s lined with glass. “You’re…”

You finally look at him, just as he lamely finishes with, “... you. You’re you.”

He’d be more articulate, but his brain is kind of shutting down on itself.

Because now he’s picturing it. How Lando will touch you. If Lando will see the way your breath hitches when someone brushes your wrist. If he’ll know that you go quiet when you’re turned on. If he’ll think to ask before he undoes you.

Oscar shouldn’t want to know those things. He does, anyway. And now you’re here. Asking him—indirectly, innocently—for reassurance. As if he could talk you through this without wanting to burn the world down.

He swallows. “What if you didn’t have to worry about that?”

You tilt your head. “What do you mean?”

His heart punches against his ribs. Stupid. Reckless. Absolutely not the plan. “What if someone you trusted showed you?” he says, voice sounding not quite like himself. 

You stare at him for a beat, gauging what he’s offering, whether he’s kidding. When you laugh out his name, a breathless, playfully scandalized “Oscar,” he can hear the strain beneath the two syllables.

“You said you were nervous because you haven’t done much,” he says. Carefully. “What if you didn’t have to go into it blind? What if you could learn with someone who already knows you? Who cares about you?”

He waitswaitswaits. 

You blink. Your breath stutters. Your eyes flick to the serious set of his mouth, the immovable force of his arms. And then. 

You nod. 

It’s small—barely there—but it changes everything. The air feels heavier now, like the pressure before a storm. Oscar doesn’t move right away. He lets the weight of your decision settle, lets it braid itself between the quiet inches of space still left between your bodies.

You’re still watching him. Like you’re waiting for him to flinch, to take it back. Like you think he might regret offering.

He doesn’t.

He only steps closer.

“Okay,” he says, voice low. Gentle. “Then we’ll go slow. You tell me what you want to know. What you want to feel.”

You nod again, firmer this time. “Maybe… maybe we shouldn’t kiss,” you say shakily, brows drawn together adorably. “If we want to keep this from getting complicated.”

Oscar’s jaw tightens. He nods. “Got it.”

You’re close now—closer than you’ve ever been without an excuse. Oscar can feel your warmth, the subtle rise and fall of your chest as you breathe, the almost-touch of your body to his. The two of you shuffle over to the couch, silent and in sync, just to make things easier. 

You sit side by side, knees pressed against each other.  Oscar watches your fingers pause just above the waistband of his joggers. You’re not trembling, not exactly, but there’s a hitch in your breathing that makes him want to reach out. Press a hand over yours, ground you. Not to stop you. Just to let you know he’s here, that he’s not going anywhere.

“You don’t have to rush,” he says, voice roughened at the edges. “We’re not in a hurry.”

You glance up at him. He sees it again—that flicker of uncertainty, of unspoken questions. So he speaks first. “How far have you gone?”

Your voice is so, so small when you admit, “Not very. A little bit of making out here and there.”

There’s heat in your cheeks, in the way your eyes dart away like you’ve admitted to something shameful. Oscar hates that. He hates that you think your inexperience is something to hide.

“That’s good to know,” he says plainly. 

You fidget with the drawstring on his joggers, eyes still cast down. “Just so you don’t expect me to know what I’m doing.”

“I don’t expect anything from you,” he says. “This is just for you to learn. For you to feel safe. That’s all.”

You nod, your mouth twisting into a rueful smile. “Still no kissing, though.”

Oscar swallows the protest that almost rises to his lips. “Right,” he rasps. “No kissing.”

It’s the only thing keeping this from tipping over into something else. Into something it can’t come back from.

You reach for him again, fingers tentative as they trace the curve of his oblique, just above the V of his hips. Oscar sits still, arms loose at his sides, letting you explore him.

“That’s a good spot,” he murmurs when your fingertips pass over the sharp line of muscle there. “Most people don’t realize how sensitive that area can be. Especially when someone’s paying attention.”

You hum thoughtfully and trail your hand upward, brushing over his ribs. He shivers. “Ticklish?” you ask, a touch amused. 

“A little. But in a good way.”

Your fingers drift again, this time along his chest, pausing at his pecs. You press your palm flat against him, and he instinctively tightens the muscle under your hand. “You flexed,” you say.

Oscar smiles. “Didn’t mean to. You caught me off guard.”

You trace your thumb over his nipple. A light brush. He exhales through his nose, his jaw tight. “That’s another good spot,” he mumbles. “Sensitive. A little underrated, honestly.”

You glance up at him, and for a second, Oscar forgets the rules. Forgets the line he’s supposed to be toeing. But he doesn’t lean in. Doesn’t let his eyes drop to your mouth. He is patient, he is patient, he is patient. 

You explore lower now, hands skimming the trail of hair leading beneath his waistband, but you don’t go further. Not yet. Oscar feels his pulse in his throat, in his fingertips, in the way his cock is already hard and straining against the fabric.

Still, he waits.

“You okay?” he checks in.

You nod.

“Good,” he says, voice low. “Do you want to keep going?”

You hesitate for a fraction of a second before nodding again.

“Need you to use your words, gorgeous,” he says, light and teasing, drawing a bashful laugh from you. 

“Yes,” you concede. “Wanna keep going.”

Oscar nods. “Then let me show you more.”

He reaches for your hand again, gently guiding it to his bicep, then his forearm. “Different parts of the body respond to different kinds of touch,” he murmurs, watching your expression all the while. “Here’s strong. Solid. But if you drag your fingers lightly—like this—”

He demonstrates on your arm, the softest touch over your skin. Goosebumps prickle over where his fingers had been. 

He mirrors it on himself, guiding your hand to follow. “It’s not always about pressure. Sometimes it’s about presence,” he says. “Letting someone feel you. Letting them want more.”

Your pupils are blown now. He wonders if you even realize you’re leaning into him. He doesn’t say it. He just lets you keep touching, keep learning, and he pretends he’s not falling apart from it.

Oscar sees it happen in your eyes before you say anything—the worry creeping back in, like doubt tugging at the corners of your mouth, pulling you inward. You’re still touching him, still warm and close, but your gaze is far away.

“I just…” you start, voice unsteady. “I keep thinking about what Lando might expect.”

Oscar doesn’t flinch, but it cuts anyway. A dull slice just beneath the skin.

You keep going. “What if he wants someone confident? Someone who can—who knows how to, I don’t know, use their hands or say the right thing or—”

He stops you with a firm, “Hey.”

You look up at him, startled.

Oscar’s expression is calm. Too calm, maybe, because he’s holding back everything. Every petty surge of jealousy, every instinct that wants to pull you away from this hypothetical version of Lando and remind you that he’s right here. That it’s his body under your hands. His pulse you’ve got racing.

“You don’t have to be anything but yourself,” he says. “And if you want to learn absolutely anything, I’m here. That’s it. That’s all this is.”

You nod, slowly. Still, your fingers hover—undecided, unsure. He stays where he is until you’re finally out of your head enough to move. 

You hook your fingers into the waistband of his joggers and tug them down.

Oscar’s breath catches. He helps you, pulling them off, leaving him in nothing but black boxers. Tight enough to leave very little to the imagination. He’s already half-hard, the outline of him thick against the fabric. He sees your eyes go there, linger, and it takes everything in him not to react.

You reach out. Palm first, hesitant. You touch him over the cotton, soft pressure at the base, and Oscar’s stomach tenses instantly.

“Fuck,” he breathes, head tilting back against the couch cushion. He tries, valiantly, not to come undone from just this. 

Your hand immediately stills. “Too much?”

“No,” he says quickly. “Not at all. You’re doing fine.”

You start to move again, stroking him through the fabric. Oscar’s eyes flutter shut for a moment. He has to steady himself, fists clenched at his sides.

“Pressure’s good,” he grunts. “But don’t be afraid to explore. You can use your palm... or your fingers. Try different things. I’ll tell you what feels nice.”

You trace along the length of his cock, fingers curving lightly around the shape of him, then back down to the base. He’s thick and growing heavier in your hand. You’re watching closely, brows drawn in concentration, like you’re studying him.

“You’re really hard,” you say, almost to yourself.

He huffs out a dry laugh. “Yeah. That happens.”

Your gaze flicks up to him, quick. But he sees the shift in you. The awareness, the realization of the power you wield. Your hand moves more confidently now, a little more pressure. His hips jerk subtly out of instinct, reaction. 

Oscar breathes out through gritted teeth. “That’s good. Fuck, that’s—really good.”

You’re gnawing your bottom lip. “You like it?”

“I like you,” he says, before he can stop himself.

You laugh like it’s a fucking joke. You probably think he means it as your best friend, when the thoughts running through Oscar’s mind are far from friendly. 

You keep touching him. Slower now. More focused. Oscar—still pretending this is just for you, just a favor—lets it happen, lets you learn him one stroke at a time.

After what feels like forever of just you working him up, Oscar realizes he’s barely breathing.

Your hand is still wrapped around him through the thin fabric of his boxers, stroking him in slow, uneven movements. Unsure, but so eager. It takes every ounce of restraint not to buck into your touch. Not to groan louder than he should. Not to lose himself.

But then you pause.

Your fingers hover, nerves creeping back into your expression. And when you look up at him, your expression flayed open with such heartbreaking earnestness, his heart stutters in his chest.

“Can I—” you start, voice barely audible, “can I see it?”

Oscar exhales slowly, like it’ll keep him tethered.

“Yeah,” he manages. “‘Course.”

He hooks his thumbs into the waistband and slides the boxers down. It takes effort—his cock is hard now, thick and straining against the cotton—but eventually they fall, pooling at his ankles. He’s already leaking at the tip, unable to resist the way you do him over.

You go very, very still.

Oscar watches you take him in. How your eyes track the length of him, how your lips part like you’ve forgotten how to close them. He resists the urge to shift under your gaze, to adjust himself, to do anything that might break the moment.

“Jesus,” you whisper. “It’s… bigger than I thought.”

He tries not to smile. Tries not to let it get to his head. He can feel it, anyway. The way the pride simmers under his skin, low and satisfied.

You keep looking, eyes full of something like awe, something almost reverent. He stores it in his mind for future reference. 

“Bigger than in videos?” he teases.

Your face goes even redder, and Oscar bites down a groan. You’re killing him.

“Sorry,” you mutter. “I just... I didn’t expect—”

“It’s okay,” he says, scooting closer just a bit. “I like that you’re curious.”

You reach out, slowly. Your fingers brush against the base of him, tentative at first. The contact makes him suck in a sharp breath.

“Still okay?” you ask.

He nods. “Careful with your nails. Not too sharp.”

You pull back immediately. “Sorry.”

“No, no, you’re fine,” he assures, voice a little strained. “Just—try using more of your palm. Yeah, like that.”

You adjust, cupping him with both hands now, dragging one slowly up the shaft while the other stays low. You trace a vein with your thumb, and Oscar’s hips twitch before he can stop them.

“Fuck,” he mutters, jaw tight. “That’s good. Sensitive there. ‘Specially near the tip.”

You take him at his word. Your thumb circles the head, a little clumsy, a little too dry. He winces. “Okay—wait, hang on,” he says, voice catching. “That’s good, but you need to slow down. Think less pressure, more glide. Use your fingers gently here, like you’re… coaxing.”

“Coaxing?” you echo.

“Yeah,” he huffs. “Like you want it to give you something.”

You giggle under your breath. The sound goes straight to his spine.

Still, you follow instructions well. Your fingers soften, the rhythm more fluid now. You explore at your own pace, brushing over the head, down the length, to the base again. You cup him. He twitches, bites back a moan. 

Oscar looks down at you—your flushed face, your blown pupils, your bottom lip caught between your teeth.

He wants to say something, anything, but all that escapes is a ragged, “You’re learning so fucking fast.”

He means it. Every shaky breath of it. Because if this is how you touch someone when you’re nervous and new, he can’t even imagine what you’ll be like when you’re not holding back.

And here’s when we realize Oscar is not as good as he ought to be: 

Oscar shouldn’t be thinking about Lando. Not now.

Not when you’re right next to him, eyes wide and mouth slightly parted, hands wrapped around the base of his cock like you’re still trying to make sense of it. But the thought wedges itself into the back of Oscar’s skull, ugly and persistent. Lando, waiting in the wings. Lando, clueless and grinning. Lando, who might never know what it took for you to get here.

Oscar breathes through his nose, grounding himself in the present.

You’re looking up at him like you’re waiting for permission.

He doesn’t want to be bitter. Doesn’t want to ruin this. So he softens his voice, makes sure you’re still there with him. “Good?” 

“Good,” you say, fingers still curled around his throbbing cock. “I—do you think I should try my mouth?”

Oscar cups your cheek. His thumb strokes along your jaw, reassuring. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to,” he says simply. “But if you want to try, I’ll help. I’ll talk you through it. Just go slow. I’m not going anywhere.”

You nod, take a breath like you’re about to dive into deep water.

He watches as you lean in, lips brushing the tip of him. Just that alone sends heat curling through his belly. Your mouth is warm, soft. You press a kiss there, awkward and unsure, and Oscar exhales sharply.

“That’s good,” he murmurs. “You don’t have to take much. Start with your tongue. Lick, taste me a little. Get used to it."

You follow his instructions, tongue flicking out, tracing around the head of his cock. It’s messy—your spit catching against the ridge, your lips dragging slightly too dry at first—but you’re trying. Concentrating.

“Good,” Oscar grunts. “That’s really good. Try using your hand around what you can’t take in your mouth. Keep it around the base."

You wrap your fingers tighter, your other hand bracing on his thigh. Your mouth opens wider and you take him in, slowly, maybe an inch or two. Your lips stretch around him. Your brow furrows.

“Too much?” he asks, voice tight.

You shake your head, but you gag a little when you go further. You pull back quickly, a breathless, embarrassed laugh spilling out of you. “Sorry,” you say. “I didn’t—wasn’t expecting that."

Oscar laughs with you, quiet, breathy. He smooths his hand over your hair.

“Nothing to be sorry about. That’s normal,” he says through his teeth. “Just go at your pace. You don’t have to get it perfect."

You try again.

This time, you take him into your mouth slower, lips stretched, tongue pressed flat against the underside. Your hand keeps a steady rhythm where your mouth can’t reach. It’s clumsy—your jaw is working too hard, your cheeks hollowing with effort—but it’s erotic in a way Oscar’s never experienced.

Because it’s you.

You, trying for him.

You, so obviously inexperienced and so desperate to learn.

He can’t help the sound that escapes him. Half groan, half whimper. His hips twitch forward, but he forces himself still. His hand stays gentle on the back of your head, not guiding yet, only grounding. “Good. Just like that,” he groans. “Little slower. There you go.”

Your spit’s everywhere now—slick on your chin, trailing down his cock, wetting your fingers. You look up at him again, eyes glassy, lips swollen, and Oscar feels something dangerous stir in his chest.

Lando won’t get this version of you.

Not the way Oscar has you now. Mouth stretched, blush deep, fingers trembling slightly from how much you’re trying to impress. He cups your jaw again, thumb stroking over your cheekbone.

“You’re doing so well,” he whispers. “So, so well.”

You hum softly around him—accidental or deliberate, he doesn’t know—and Oscar nearly comes undone. He has to breathe. He has to last. But it’s getting harder with every second you stay on your knees, letting him fall apart in your mouth.

Oscar’s voice is tight when he speaks next, tighter than it’s been all night.

“Can I—” he starts, and then pauses, swallowing hard. He forces his voice careful, normal. “Can I use your mouth a little?”

Your brows pinch, lips still swollen and wet, and he continues, nervous now. “Not rough, just… guiding a bit. Like Lando might. So you know how it feels.”

He hates himself for saying it like that. 

Hates invoking Lando’s name when your lips are red from him, when your hands are still trembling from the weight of him. But it’s the only way he knows you’ll let him. The only way to justify the way his cock aches to fuck into the willing shape of your mouth.

You nod. You pull away from him for a moment, voice barely carrying as you say, “Okay.”

Oscar cups the back of your head gently, fingers threading into your hair, thumb brushing the hinge of your jaw. “I’ll go slow. You breathe through your nose, yeah?” he instructs. “If it’s too much, just tap me.”

You nod again, and he rocks his hips forward.

The first slide into your mouth is shallow, but Oscar feels it in his spine. The heat, the resistance, the obscene sound of spit and breath catching. His grip tightens slightly in your hair, steadying himself. You’re warm and wet and pliant, jaw relaxing more the deeper he gets.

“Fuck,” he breathes. “That’s it. Doing so fucking good, baby.”

He watches your hands scramble to his thighs, gripping him for balance. Watches your lashes flutter as he fucks forward again, deeper this time. The sound your throat makes as you try to take him fully is sinful. He doesn’t go all the way—won’t push you there, not yet—but he can’t help the slow, hungry rhythm he sets. A gentle grind of hips. A firm pull of your head toward him.

You gag slightly. He pauses. “You okay?”

You nod, watery-eyed, lips stretched, breath shaky through your nose.

“Good girl,” he whispers, brushing your hair back from your face. “That’s it. Use your tongue. Just a little more… hng, fuck. Right there.”

He starts again. Small thrusts. Controlled. Letting you adjust. Letting himself adjust. Your throat convulses around him once, and he sees stars. He’s saying things now, low and unraveling, almost incoherent.

“Mouth so fucking perfect.” 

“My pretty girl. My pretty, pretty girl.”

“Can’t believe I’m the first one—holy shit.”

The idea hits him again, harder this time. He’s the first. First one you’re letting in like this. First one whose cock you’ve taken into your mouth, messy and unsure and eager to learn. He’s the one who gets to show you what it’s like, what you’re capable of. What you deserve to be praised for.

His hips snap forward a little harder. You choke, just slightly. He slows again, hands gentling.

“Shhh. That’s it. You’re doing so good,” he rushes to praise you, hands stroking you soothingly. “My good girl, taking it so well. You’re making me feel so—fuck, I can’t even—”

Your hands squeeze tighter around his thighs, fingernails digging in, grounding yourself. Your eyes water more, and it makes you look somehow even more devoted. Even more his.

He groans, low and ragged, tipping his head back. “ I’m not gonna last much longer if you keep looking at me like that.”

And you—so innocent, so unknowing—you blink up at him through the tears and hum around his cock, sending a vibration so sharp it makes his knees weak.

He has to stop. Has to pull back. Has to catch his breath before this ends too soon. But he doesn’t. He can’t.

Not when you’re letting him fuck into your mouth like it’s the only thing you were made for.

Oscar’s voice is more gravel than words now.

“Open wider for me,” he whispers, breath ragged, thumb stroking the hinge of your jaw. “Exactly like that. Keep looking at me—fuck, yeah, don’t look away.”

He’s rocking into your mouth, riding the edge, and you’re so obedient it wrecks him. Jaw slack, tears shining in your lashes. There’s saliva at the corners of your lips, a glossy sheen along your chin. Your hands grip at his thighs like you’ll float away if you don’t anchor yourself to him.

“Touch yourself,” he says lowly. “You don’t have to finish. Just… want you to feel what you’re doing to me.”

You hesitate, shy even now. But you obey, hand sliding down to cup yourself over your shorts. And that’s what makes Oscar nearly come right then and there.

The idea of you squirming with your fingers buried between your thighs, while your mouth is so warm and wet around him? His stomach clenches, jaw tight. He feels his orgasm cresting fast, too fast, and he can’t hold it back anymore.

“Gonna come—fuck. Keep still for me, y-yeah? Please, baby?”

You do.

You hold perfectly still when he buries himself deep and comes with a broken sound. It’s not neat. It’s not silent. It’s breathless and shaky, his fingers curling hard in your hair as he pulses down your throat. You take all of it like a champ. Throat flexing. Moaning from somewhere deep down. 

When he finally pulls back, you’re panting, licking your lips without realizing it. He can’t help the groan that escapes him at the sight. “Shit,” he breathes, immediately crouching, hands cradling your face. “Did I hurt you?”

You shake your head, a little dazed. Voice hoarse. “No, no. That was just… intense.”

Oscar presses his forehead to yours, laughing softly, giddy and exhausted. “Yeah,” he says. “Yeah, no kidding.”

Your tongue pokes out again, tasting the corner of your mouth, and his eyes flick down.

“There’s still some—” He trails a thumb along the edge of your lips, catching the mess and rubbing it gently against your bottom lip. You shiver, lapping up what’s left of his cum.

“I thought it’d taste worse,” you say after a moment, honest and curious.

Oscar huffs out another laugh, leaning back on his heels. “What, were you expecting battery acid?”

You snort. “I dunno. It’s kinda… salty?”

Oscar tilts his head, grin lazy. “That’s what I get for not drinking pineapple juice.”

You slap his shoulder, but you’re smiling, and so is he. His thumb swipes again at your mouth, this time lingering. “Still messy,” he murmurs, and he means more than your lips. You’re flushed and blinking slowly, your hand still resting on his thigh like it belongs there.

He kisses your cheek gently. “Come on. Water, now. And then…” He lets the words hang, his voice suddenly quieter. “Then we can talk.”

Because even if your mouth is still sweet with the taste of him, even if his heart’s still sprinting, there’s something else beneath the surface.

Moments later, you’re curled up beside him on the bed, knees hugged to your chest, one of his hoodies drowning your frame. Oscar’s already brought you water, wiped your mouth clean, even insisted you lie down while he fetched you a snack you didn’t ask for. The air between you is light, made tender with the weight of what just happened.

You’re quiet, not awkward exactly, but distracted. Fidgety. Your fingers play with the cuffs of your sleeves like they’re something to disappear into. Oscar watches you closely.

“Hey,” he says, careful. “You okay?”

You nod a little too fast. “Yeah, just… yeah.”

Oscar waits. You always do this—start saying something only to retreat, like you’re testing the water first. He lets the silence stretch long enough before trying again. “You’re squirming.”

Your brows lift, startled. He keeps his voice soft. “You’re uncomfortable?”

You don’t answer right away, but you do shift again, thighs pressing together tightly. The tension in your body isn’t something he can ignore. Not after everything. Not with how hard you tried to do well for him.

“Hey,” he murmurs, sitting up and brushing the back of his hand against your arm. “Talk to me.”

You bite your lip. It takes a breath, maybe two, before you mumble, “I think I made myself sore.”

Oh.

It hits him all at once. How long you were down there, how hard you were trying to do everything right, how nervous you must have been. How wet the inside of your thighs must be now, how much slick had probably gathered with no relief, how the pressure must be lingering between your legs. He swallows, shame curling low in his gut.

“I—fuck. I didn’t think. I should’ve asked.”

“It’s not your fault,” you say, trying to wave it off, but you don’t meet his eyes.

He hesitates.

“I could… help,” he offers, and hates himself a little for how it comes out, too eager and too unsure. He forces himself to do better. “Only if you want. It might help, just—relieving some of that. So you’re not in pain.”

You blink at him. He sits back, pretending like he’s reasoning it out with you, when really it’s all he can think about.

“I mean—Lando’s not gonna be hands-off forever, right?” he says through gritted teeth. “If you’re still planning on saying yes to him. And this way, you’d know what it’s like before he tries anything. You won’t be surprised.”

It’s petty. The words taste like vinegar in his mouth. But it’s the best he can do to mask the heat coiling in his chest.

You contemplate it, glancing at him—quick, uncertain, like you’re scared to name what you want. “Okay,” you say after one too many seconds. “Yeah, that makes sense.”

And Oscar feels it down to the marrow.

Not triumph. Not desire.

Just the raw, aching privilege of being the one you trust to make this feel okay.

Oscar sits beside you, palm warm where it rests lightly against your knee. He’s still watching you too closely, still trying to balance every inch of his desire with the care you deserve. It burns in his chest, the knowledge that you trust him with this. That you’re letting him learn your body before anyone else.

“You know you can stop me at any point, right?” he reminds you, thumb tracing idle circles into your skin. “Doesn’t have to mean anything. Doesn’t have to go anywhere.”

You stare up at him, so trusting that it’s devasting. “And still no kissing.”

It stings. He smiles anyway. “No kissing,” he agrees. 

He lets you lie back on the bed, positioning yourself however’s most comfortable, and then follows your cues. He starts with your arm—his fingertips brushing the inside of your wrist, then the crook of your elbow, slow and methodical. His hands are always warm, always clean, always careful. And when you shiver, just slightly, he clocks it.

“That one?”

You let out a low sound of approval. “It’s weird,” you say. “No one’s ever touched me there before.”

Oscar hums, lips parting in thought. He bends to press his mouth to the same spot. Not a kiss, just a hot breath and a drag of his lower lip that makes your arm twitch.

He keeps going, skimming over your collarbones, mapping the line where your shirt starts underneath his hoodie. His hand slides under the hem—slow, deliberate. “Still okay?”

“Yeah,” you breathe.

He palms over your stomach first. Then higher. You’re not wearing a bra. And when his thumb brushes the underside of your breast, you gasp.

“Oh.”

Oscar pauses. His eyes flick to yours.

You look vaguely horrified. “I—I think I like that a lot.”

He fights back a grin. “That’s good.”

“No, like. A lot a lot.”

He huffs a breath through his nose—somewhere between a laugh and a moan—and cups you properly. Weighs the softness in his hand, just to hear your little intake of breath. “You’re sensitive here?” he asks, brushing his thumb lightly across your nipple.

Your hips shift. “Jesus,” you groan. “Yeah.”

He’s going to file that away forever. Instead of teasing you more, he pulls your hoodie and shirt up properly, lets it bunch above your chest. His hands return, this time more focused, both of them. He tests how you react to pressure, to circular motions, to the pad of his thumb versus the flat of his palm. He listens to every sound you make. Every hitch in your breath. Every flutter of your lashes.

“You weren’t kidding,” he says almost reverently.

You laugh, flustered. “Shut up.”

He leans in, face close enough to see the heat blooming across your cheeks. “I think they’re my favorite thing about you,” he says, matter-of-fact.

“You’re only saying that because you’re touching them.”

“I’m saying that because it’s true.”

You whimper, but you don’t stop him. You arch into his touch. And Oscar knows—this is only the beginning of how you’ll learn each other.

Oscar’s hands settle over your chest, the weight of his palms grounding you as your breath quickens beneath him. He takes his time, leans down just enough to latch his mouth over you. Rolling one nipple between his fingers while his lips drag across the swell of your other breast, tongue flicking just barely where he knows it’ll make you squirm.

The first sound you make is soft. Barely audible. The second is more of a whine, your hips shifting with increasing urgency. He grins against your skin. “Feels good?”

You nod, lips parted, eyes unfocused. “Mhm.”

Oscar’s mouth closes around your nipple, sucking lightly, then a little harder, just to test how far he can push. Your hands are in his hair before you even realize, fingers tugging when he sucks deep and slow. He lets his teeth graze, and you buck beneath him.

“Fuck,” you gasp.

He pulls back slightly. “Too much?”

“No, no,” you say, breathless. “No, it’s—I don’t know.”

He raises an eyebrow and brings his hand lower, resting it over your shorts. You’re panting, devastated in how you’ve unraveled, and Oscar can feel it before he even presses down.

Wet.

When he applies the slightest pressure, you jolt again, eyes wide and embarrassed. Your thighs squeeze together instinctively, and your mouth opens like you might explain yourself. “I didn’t mean to,” you whimper. “I didn’t think I was that close. I’m sorry—”

He cuts you off, voice low and impossibly warm. “Don’t apologize. That was hot.” Oscar leans in, brushing your temple with his nose. “You got off just from that?”

“I didn’t mean to,” you repeat, quieter.

He presses a soft kiss to your shoulder, affectionate, still tracing lazy circles over the damp fabric. “Can I move these?”

He feels you nod, feels the way your voice cracks when you say, “Yeah.”

Oscar is careful, fingers hooking under your waistband, dragging the shorts and your underwear down in one slow motion. The air hits you first, then his gaze, heavy and adoring.

He doesn’t say anything right away. He only settles beside you again, fingertips brushing the inside of your thigh, already planning how to show you there’s nothing wrong with wanting like this. He watches the way your stomach still flutters with the aftershocks of your orgasm, how your breath stumbles, how your eyes glass over as you try to refocus on him. Your hips twitch when his thumb accidentally grazes your clit.

Oscar shifts closer, his palm warm against your thigh as his fingers trace the soft skin, inching upward like he’s trying to memorize you. Your shorts are pushed down now, panties too, and he still hasn’t looked away from you—not really. He watches the way you squirm, your mouth parting, your gaze flitting from his eyes to his hand like you don’t know which part of this you should be more overwhelmed by.

“You good?” he checks in again.

You nod, then hesitantly add, “Yeah. Just… nervous.”

He smiles reassuringly, thumb brushing the inside of your thigh. “That’s okay.” A pause, then, gently, “Can I ask something? When you touch yourself… how do you do it?”

The question makes your whole face turn an incandescent shade of pink. You laugh, a little out of discomfort, covering your eyes with one hand. “Oscar.”

“I’m serious,” he says, still smiling, but there’s a real curiosity in his voice now. “I wanna know what you like.”

You mumble something about how you usually just rub circles, nothing fancy. Oscar hums, clearly thinking.

“Like this?” he asks, finally dragging his fingers over your folds, slow and feather-light. He finds your clit with an ease that makes your hips jerk, and he chuckles under his breath. “Jesus. Sensitive.”

You gasp, one hand clutching at the bedsheets. “It’s d-different when someone else does it!”

He’s already testing pressure, rhythm, the edge of your comfort. You try to help, stuttering out what feels good, what doesn’t, but the more he listens, the less coherent you become.

He spreads you open a little further, fingers slick with the mess you’ve already made. “You’re soaked,” he mutters, half in awe. “And this is just my fingers.”

You arch when he grazes your clit just right, thighs twitching as he keeps a steady pressure there. It doesn’t take much before your hips start moving with him, chasing each slow, teasing circle.

“You’re so quiet,” he whispers. “Trying not to make noise?”

You whine, breath catching. “It’s embarrassing.”

Oscar leans over, kisses your jaw. “Nothing to be embarrassed about. You don’t have to be quiet.”

Then he slides lower, one finger dragging down to tease your entrance, not pushing in, just circling. Your breath stutters again.

“Here?” he asks, thumb still gliding over your clit.

You nod frantically. “There, there, there—”

He doesn’t push in, not yet. Just keeps rubbing you, watching your thighs tense and your chest heave, and when he finally slips the tip of one finger inside, your whole body jolts.

It’s not long. It’s not even deliberate. Your legs tense, your mouth drops open, and you come a second time with a high, shocked sound, like you didn’t know you were close until it was already happening.

Oscar groans, biting down on his bottom lip, hips twitching with restraint. He’s hard in his joggers, achingly so, and he has to breathe through it, through the image of you coming around nothing but his hand.

“Can you handle more?” he asks, the pads of his fingers still slick with you. His voice is tight, like he’s barely holding himself back.

You look at him, dazed but trusting. “I think so.”

He smiles—relieved, reverent, wrecked. “Tell me if it’s too much, alright?”

Oscar starts slow. He pushes a finger in, shallow at first, just letting your body adjust to the stretch. Then he draws it back out, slick with arousal, and adds another. Your thighs tremble.

“You’re so tight,” he murmurs, like he’s talking more to himself than you. “So warm.”

His free hand steadies your hip as he starts to move his fingers—slow and steady, curling just slightly. Then he presses his thumb back against your clit, circling softly, like he’s trying to soothe and tease you at once. The combination makes you cry out, hips jerking, your hands fumbling for something—his wrist, his arm, the bedsheets.

“Oscar,” you pant, voice barely above a whisper.

“I know,” he says. “I know. It’s a lot.”

But you take it. You whimper and clench and rock against his hand, and he watches in disbelief. Watches the way you squirm beneath him, overwhelmed but hungry for it anyway.

“You’re doing so good,” he rasps, kissing your collarbone. “Taking me so well.”

Then, like it’s an afterthought—but it’s not, it never is—he glances up at you again. “Can I try one more thing?”

You hesitate, still breathless, but nod.

Oscar shifts, lowers himself until he’s between your legs, face hovering close to your core. He breathes you in, eyes fluttering shut for a moment. Then he ducks his head, mouth closing over your clit.

The instant moan that rips out of you is loud, uncontrolled. Your back arches. You grab at his hair, not pulling away, just trying to ground yourself.

He groans into you, the vibration sending a shiver up your spine. His fingers keep moving, scissoring slightly now, stretching you open as his tongue flicks and presses and licks.

You fall apart. There’s no other word for it. You come again, around his fingers. Crying out, shaking, the pleasure so intense it borders on unbearable.

He should stop.

Your legs are twitching on either side of his head, breath hiccupping in your chest like you’re trying to pull yourself back down to earth. But Oscar can’t. Not yet. Not when your thighs are caging him in. Not when the taste of you is still on his tongue. Salty-sweet, slick, utterly intoxicating.

He licks deliberately, slow and broad this time, from the base of your entrance all the way up to your clit. Then he does it again, fingers still buried inside you, curling with intent.

You let out something between a sob and a moan. “Osc,” you cry, barely a hiccup. 

He hums against your cunt. The vibrations make your hips buck.

“You’re sensitive,” he says, voice hoarse. “I know.”

You squirm, trying to close your legs, but his hands are firm, holding you open at the hips. He mouths at your clit with a little more gentleness, his fingers coaxing what else he knows you can give.

“C-can’t,” you whisper, eyes squeezing shut. 

“Yes, you can,” he breathes, kissing over the swollen bud. “You’re doing so well for me.”

Your fingers tangle into his hair. You’re not pulling him off, but there’s a bit of an edge to your tug. “W-wait, don’t eat me out,” you squeak. “It’s—you don’t know how that tastes—”

He lifts his head just long enough to look at you. His mouth glistens as he grins, just on the right side cocky. “You think I care?”

Your face burns.

“You’re perfect like this,” he says plainly. Then he ducks his head again, tongue working you open, pushing inside while his fingers slide back in, finding that spot again. That one spot that has you gasping.

The overstimulation hits hard. You writhe against the bed, thighs trembling violently as he holds you still. He alternates between licking your clit and sucking it, his fingers never slowing. You can’t form words anymore. All that’s left are fractured sounds, guttural and high-pitched, your hands fisting the sheets.

Oscar’s lost in it. In you. Your taste, your scent, the way you pulse and clench around his fingers, the way your body jerks when his mouth hits just right.

“You’re so good,” he groans into you, his voice vibrating against your cunt. “So sweet. Can’t believe you’ve never… holy shit.”

When your third orgasm crashes down, full-body and violent, only then does he lift his head. Chin glistening, eyes dark and glassy with want.

Oscar drags himself up your body slowly, carefully, kissing the warm stretch of your stomach and the slope of your ribs, nose brushing against the curve beneath your breast. He keeps his mouth from your lips—like you asked—but not without effort. It’s instinct, habit, the way he wants to kiss you when you’re like this: glowing, boneless, trembling beneath his weight.

Instead, he lets his mouth drag over the skin of your collarbone as he adjusts himself between your thighs. His joggers cling to his hips, but the strain in them is unmistakable. A thick, hard ridge pressed tight to the slick heat of your core. 

He rocks his hips forward—just a little—to feel it. To feel you.

Your cry breaks sharp in the air.

“Fuck,” he hisses, forehead falling to your shoulder, jaw clenched tight. “I—can I? Just—this. Let me have this. Please.”

You nod, too dazed to speak, too desperate to deny him. “Go,” you say, equal parts merciful and needing, “take what you need, Osc.”

Oscar’s thrusts stay controlled, but the friction is filthy. Raw cotton dragging along your clit in time with the heavy flex of him beneath the fabric. You’re soaked and sensitive, and every pass of his hips makes your body jerk, back arching as your cunt clenches around nothing.

His hand settles on your thigh, spreading you wider, keeping you steady as he ruts forward again with a helpless whine. “You’re so good,” he pants. “Being so good for me. Feels like you’re made for this, for me.”

Each grind is punctuated by low groans in your ear, Oscar’s voice dissolving into breathless praise and curses. He presses his forehead to your temple, eyes squeezed shut, fighting to hold on, to make it last. 

“That’s it,” he murmurs. “Take it, baby. Let me feel you. Just like this. Just—fuck, just like this.”

Your nails dig into his shoulders, and he thinks he could die like this, right here. Held between the ache in his chest and the heat of your cunt under his cock. Still not inside, but it’s enough. Yours to give, and his to ruin.

Oscar doesn’t know if it’s shame or worship that makes him move like this. He kisses down your sternum instead of your mouth, like he promised, but it doesn’t stop his desperation from bleeding into every motion, every panting breath fanned against your skin.

You’re too perfect, with your breath catching in little sobs each time he drags his hips forward. He almost doesn’t hear it over the slick sound of your bodies, but it’s there. You, whispering his name. Moaning it.

“Oscar,” you whimper, nails clawing down his back like you’re marking your territory—and it nearly pushes him over the edge. “Oh my God, O-Oscar.”

He chokes on a groan and hides his face against your shoulder, but the thoughts swarm him. Every disgusting, shameful fantasy he’s kept buried over the years spills into the forefront of his mind.

You, crawling into his lap asking for help like this. 

You, naked in his sheets, lips wet and eyes glassy as you beg him to show you how to please someone else. 

How many nights has he gotten off to the image of your hands down your shorts, whispering his name without realizing? How many times has he thought about bending you over his kitchen counter, your voice broken and pleading?

This is the closest he’ll ever get. This—this lesson. This half-sin under the guise of helping, of making sure you won’t be surprised when Lando touches you.

He’s not supposed to want it. He’s not supposed to want you.

But your cunt is dripping for him, and his cock is rock-hard beneath his joggers, and when he feels your hips stutter up against him like you’re meeting him halfway, like you might want it just as much as him—

Oscar bites down on the curve of your shoulder, just to keep himself tethered. You cry out, raking your nails down his back so hard it leaves trails of fire. And then he’s coming, rutting forward through the cotton, wet warmth soaking between you two as his body convulses with it.

He knows he shouldn’t. He knows this wasn’t supposed to happen. But God, he’d do it all over again. He’d do worse, if you let him.

And he still won’t kiss you.

Oscar goes through the motions of aftercare. He’s a lot of nefarious things, but he’s not evil. 

The bathroom is still warm with the steam of your shared shower, water droplets clinging to the corners of the mirror. Oscar’s fingers are soft where they glide along the towel he’s wrapping around your shoulders. He crouches a little to meet your eyes, his gaze searching. Not for anything dramatic, but for signs. Of your comfort. Your peace. Maybe even your joy.

You’re sitting on the closed toilet lid, legs tucked in close to your chest, hair damp and curling at the ends. He’s rubbing at your calves with another towel, not even bothering to hide the adoration on his face. He still hasn’t let go of your hand. Not since he washed you gently between the legs, murmuring quiet apologies you kept telling him weren’t needed.

Oscar sits on the edge of the tub eventually, elbows on his knees, letting out a breath like he’s been carrying the world. The silence stretches in a syrupy way. You’re the one who breaks it.

“You don’t have to keep looking at me like that,” you groan, cheeks flushed. “Like I’ll float away.”

He smiles, slow and devastating. “I’m not letting you float away.”

You try not to melt, fidgeting with the edge of the towel instead. You’re smiling now too, though, and it knocks him out. 

“Hey,” he says, gently. “Can I say something kind of cheesy?”

You glance at him, waiting.

“Don’t ever settle for someone who doesn’t treat you like this. Okay?” Oscar manages. “Like you’re precious. Like they know how lucky they are just to get to hold you.”

Your mouth trembles a little, and he catches it with his thumb before it can turn into something shaky. His touch stays steady, thumb against your cheekbone.

“That goes for Lando, or anyone else,” he goes on. “If they don’t take their time with you—if they don’t care to learn what you like, how to care for you—then they shouldn’t get to have you.”

You blink rapidly, eyes too bright. “You’re going to make me cry,” you complain, but the appreciation bleeds into the curve of your laugh. 

Oscar kisses your shoulder, still damp from the towel, and whispers, “You deserve only the best of things. Always.”

You lean into him then, and his arms wrap around you like they were always meant to. “Thank you,” you sigh into the crook of his neck. “You’re the best friend ever.” 

Does it sting to hear? Of course.

But, like we’ve established—Oscar is a patient man. 

He doesn’t say it. He doesn’t have to. The selfish, godforsaken truth pulses in his chest like a second heartbeat: 

Oscar hopes you’re ruined for anyone else. ⛐

box, box!!! ⸻ i am currently taking commissions for donations made to philippine typhoon relief efforts. read more on where to donate & how to request.

[midnightzonzz]

Pole-sitter

Hungary 2025

Warnings: smut, implied sub!charles, blowjobs and cowgirl (that could be the name of my autobiography)

One of the Boys masterlist

The sudden realisation dawned on Charles as soon as he spotted you lingering near his driver's room.

He was so bewildered by the fact that he'd managed to pull off pole position, he'd entirely forgotten about you.

That is, until you were in his lap, devouring him on his couch.

Your breaths mingled in the quiet of his room, his hands slowly making their way under your shirt.

"It has been a while..." he sighed.

His breath stuttered when you pulled his head back by his hair.

"It has indeed" you smirked, running your lips over the curve of his jaw. "You need to get more poles if you want to see me more often"

He groaned low in his throat, your hand had found its way into his jeans, popping the button to slip inside and feel him stiffen under your touch.

"What do you want me to do to you?"

The question hung in the air for a moment. You both knew what Charles really wanted, but that wasn't going to happen unless he got a win, so he had to think about it.

"I want you to get on your knees"

You grinned, slipping down onto the carpeted floor between his spread legs.

He pushed his pants and underwear down hastily, and you watched his hard cock twitch in anticipation.

The first touch of your lips against his tip made him shiver, and already you could taste the tang of precum on your tongue.

You licked up the underside, maintaining eye contact with Charles, and his gaze darkened as his jaw went slack.

Just as he was about to start begging, you finally you took him properly into your mouth and sucked long, and hard.

He whined and his hips shook with the effort of holding them still for you.

"Fuck..." he rasped. "I'd forgotten how good you are at that"

You winked and carried on, taking him further down little by little, using your hand on the part you couldn't reach.

It had been so long, and your mouth was so warm and wet, that Charles knew he wasn't going to last long at all.

Your other hand went to cup his balls, and then it was only seconds until you felt them tighten.

You pulled off however, and Charles let out a distressed moan at the loss of your mouth.

"What was that for?" He whined, and you lifted a brow.

"Are you complaining?"

His eyes widened and he quickly backtracked with a shake of his head.

"No- no of course not!"

"That's what I thought..."

You stood up and took your own pants off, then straddled him.

"I'm going to ride you, Charlie." You whispered into his ear, and he shivered. "And you don't come until I do, capisce?"

He nodded, and his hands went to hold your waist as you lined yourself up with him.

"Good boy" you smirked, and his eyes rolled back when you sank down on him in one go, and groaned at the stretch.

You swallowed his moans, grinding your hips and cupping his cheeks as you shared a passionate kiss.

With the first bounce on his cock, his hands tightened on your hips and he helped you keep a steady, deep pace as you rode him. It had been a while indeed, but he still knew exactly how you liked it, and you remembered exactly how he liked it. Long and hard.

The head of his cock pressed deep inside you, and his eyes darted to the slight bulge in your lower belly, before he started whimpering as he realised his orgasm was closer than he thought it was.

"You gonna be a good boy and help me, Charles?"

He nodded, sucking a thumb into his mouth to wet it before bringing it down to where you were joined to circle your clit gently.

The pressure was just right, and your thrusts turned into a desperate roll of your hips as you chased your high. His other hand weaved its way into your hair to drag you back towards him and crashed his lips to yours.

He swallowed your moans, bodies moving together in a wave of desperation, and soon he felt you shudder on top of him and your cunt tighten around him.

"Come, baby. Come inside me, good boy" You groaned into his neck, gasping for breath as you gave him permission, and the praise went straight to his head as he bucked his hips inside you a couple of times before his own mind-numbing orgasm washed over him, and you felt his come leak out of you as he fucked it in as deep as he could.

You caught your breaths like that, tangled in each other, soothing hands tracing patterns into each other’s skin as you kissed lazily.

"That was nice" he sighed quietly.

"You did good today, Charles" you smiled into it, teasingly nibbling on his bottom lip. "Really good. I'm so proud of you..."

He groaned. "Stop praising me or I'll get hard again..."

You just smirked at him.

"What makes you think I only came for one round?"

[midnightzonzz]

Private ride

Spa 2025

Warnings: smut, car sex, pretty vanilla, mention of... performance enhancing substances... if you catch my drift lmao. Tiny bit of backstory between Osc and reader.

One of the Boys Masterlist

Oscar was... uncharacteristically happy.

Like. Not only grinning and laughing and just being all around pleased with his victory.

No, he was bubbly. He was giggly and shy and currently cornering you against his car in the parking lot as he mouthed up your neck.

"I won, baby. I won at my favourite track, and now I get to have you"

You were breathless, focused more on his hands travelling up your skirt than his words.

He ushered you into the borrowed SUV, into the spacious backseat and climbed in after you.

"God, you really are needy today, Osc. What's gotten into you?"

He blushed and buried his face into your tits as he pawed at your body like a cat.

"I don't know" he mumbled. "Just happy I guess... want you so bad"

You chuckled at the eagerness with which he was trying to pull your clothes off.

His hair was dishevelled and his gaze lidded as he devoured you. Literally, his mouth was on your cunt before you could say much else, pulling sounds from you over and over again until you were shaking.

He didn't let you come, though. He pulled away just as your back was starting to arch, and you whined and tried in vain to drag him back by his hair.

He crawled over your body, getting his pants off along the way and rubbed his cock against you.

You looked into his eyes, he looked gone.

He crashed his lips to yours, all-encompassing and overwhelming as your hands cupped his cheeks to deepen the kiss. The moment was charged with a sense of intimacy you rarely let yourself enjoy much anymore, this was a nice change of pace.

He lined himself up and pushed inside you halfway, letting you briefly adjust.

His thrusts were shallow at first, and little by little he sank in further, down to the base, encouraged by your sweet moans.

He didn't know what it was, maybe the unusual setting, but this felt different than most times. It almost felt like the first time all over again.

He thought back to his first sprint win. Qatar 2023. He was so nervous he almost bailed out of a night with you. That was the first time you and Oscar were alone together, and by the end of the night you were very thankful that he hadn't stayed at Alpine.

Two years later you were still thankful, and so was he.

His forehead pressed against yours, he gazed into your eyes as he took you apart, hips rolling into you expertly. He knew you inside and out after all this time, exactly how to make you lose it, how to make your orgasm creep up on you so slowly you didn't see it coming until you were crying out, his name on your lips as you pulsed around him, dragging him through his own high.

He pumped his hips some more, ensuring you were properly full of him before he rolled you over, so you were on top.

You were panting, looking down at him questionningly.

"You want to go again?"

He nodded, equally out of breath.

"But what about the seats?" You could already feel him leaking out of you and down your thighs.

"Fuck the seats" his hands gripped your hips. "I need you, now."

Fair enough, you thought. You wouldn't be the one paying the cleaning fee.

You moved your hips, how he was still hard you didn't know, and started riding him, aided by his hands guiding you and setting the pace.

He split you on his cock over and over again in that car, making it rock for what felt like at least a couple of hours.

After orgasm number three he was still hard, and you stared at him when you realised it.

"Oscar. Are you on something?"

He looked at you through lidded eyes, smirk adorning his features.

"Maybe. I just thought it would make our celebration a bit more fun. Why? You tired?"

"You fucking wish, Piastri..."

You were on the verge of heatstroke, sweating buckets, and for the umpteenth time both your moans were once again filling the small space, and your hips slammed down on him as you chased another high.

You lost count of how many you were up to, but you were certain this was the last, if the way you were both starting to struggle was any indication.

His fingers danced along your thigh, up to where you were joined and he played with your clit lazily.

"You close?" He panted.

You nodded and he smirked, increasing the pressure of his thumb on your sensitive nerves.

Your knees trembled as you tried and failed to keep the pace up, so he let you lay against his chest, and took over, pounding into you with every last bit of strength he could muster.

The obscene squelch of his cock ramming into you with his cum leaking out of you only made you both more desperate to add to it, and without much further ado you came with a whine into his neck, and he shouted as he filled you up once more.

The seats were ruined, and the car smelled like sex. But at least for now, he was sated.

Well... at least until Hungary.

[midnightzonzz]

HOTD NSFW LINKS

be logged into twitter/x for them to work!

JACAERYS VELARYON　♡

he can’t help when his twin sister tastes so good　/　twin sister on top　/　taking her maidenhead　/　being his sister’s bitch　/　aegon’s sister is just too pretty　/　waiting until the wedding night

AEGON TARGARYEN　♡

letting his baby sister how to ride his face　/　he LOVES his sister’s ass　/　meeting jacaerys’ sister　/　keeping her quiet　/　spooning　/　in-front of aemond

LUCERYS VELARYON　♡

he loves his older sister’s body　/　locked away in his chambers　/　showing how much he loves her　/　loves his older sister on top　/　his sister takes good care of him　/　jacaerys taught him how to take care of their sister

AEMOND TARGARYEN　♡

his sister loves his fingers　/　he’s always so rough　/　he loves his bastard niece　/　putting babies in her womb　/　he loves how needy velaryon girls are　/　he gets subby too