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#also i didn’t proofread this lmao
bandsanitizer · 2 years
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5SOS5 Lyricism: Part 1
since the ending of bad omens makes me want to scream (/pos) and I’m pretty blown away with 5sos’ lyrics on this album, I have done a track-by-track of lyrics in 5SOS5 that make my english minor brain yell and some analysis. totally open to discussing their lyricism more and I am debating doing a more chaotic, less technical, overall track-by-track!
just a heads up that I refer to the “I” of the songs as the “speaker” and just refer to the subject as “you” (quotations included). this is all in good fun and not meant to claim knowledge of the band’s lives nor intents. additionally, the use of “you” (no quotations) is not referring to you, the reader, but some ambiguous being of hypothetical situation. it is used to avoid confusion with the pronouns I use for the speaker.
breaking this up into two parts and putting it under the break bc this got to be very long (imagine if I put this much work into my degree)
COMPLETE MESS
“this evanescence always fleeting like a flame / but I’m never one to change, am I?”
first off, the contrast of “evanescence” & “fleeting” with “always”. the conflicting ideas of impermanence that is guaranteed to occurred. coupled with the speakers questioned lack of change, is stresses the contrast between the “you” and the “I” of the song. the softer “-scence” and “fl-” sounds that dissipate like the lyrics described in contrast with the second line’s harsher “ne-” and “ch-”
the bridge & breakdown portion being repeated lyrics from earlier in the song
granted the band isn’t known for having the most contrasting bridges, the repetition of the first verse but excluding the question about never changing is a direct example of the lack of change. it’s the song addressing the way the “you” makes the speaker feel and yet we literally encounter a lack of change.
Easy for You to Say
“… it’s coming in waves / a sunrise in Sydney that’s burning for days”
once again! contrast! the first association of waves with water that conflicts with the fire of “burning” but then the association of heat in “sunrise” with heatwaves. the water notion then recurring with “drenched in my pain” later in the verse. which considering the song is about reflection towards the past, the contrast with the Sydney line emphasizes the separation of the past and the speaker.
“a piece of peace of mind”
alliteration and homophones! also the plosives disrupt the sounds present a contrast to the previous lines (even in the choice of singing, the p-sounds are given a bit of exaggeration) which reflect the fear of something peaceful/settled/soft.
“I feel it in moments … / between all the gasping, I finally breathe”
first! anaphora of the first lines of the verses—the change from sight to touch. that instead of just seeing the moments, the speaker is immersing themself in. which we could consider diving into them. that ties back to the first verse’s water allusions and the second line of the second verse relating to the experience of holding your breath in order to go under water. the concept then reflecting the song being of reflection—how it requires immersion in memories to process and learn and move forward from them.
Bad Omens
“can’t help the way I keep ignoring every omen”
in my experience, “omen” typically has negative connotations, despite the word itself being neutral in meaning. this idea applied to this line in the chorus emphasizes the idea of the last line of the chorus “it’s nothing I don’t already know”. that if we consider the speaker has been overlooking all the signs of the relationship falling apart but being aware of them, it’s similar to reading “omen” neutrally when one should be considered the bad thing coming.
“I should’ve known right then and there, you were a runaway / oh, just make it go away / can you help me rearrange it? / I’m still making sense of having nothing left to save”
the contrast of “then and there” alluding to the act of planting oneself with “runaway” being the opposite in action. also the second line’s “it” is likely referring to signs the earlier lines in the verse and song describe, yet “runaway” and implication of the “you” loving someone else creates the exact ending the speaker wishes for. this showcases that the omens and “you” cannot be separated, hence the asking to “rearrange”. that as the speaker comes to realize all the signs and what it means for the relationship, they don’t know what to do with the fact that it’s the relationship they need to let go off in order for both of them to be happy.
“we go around again, we jump back in bed / that’s what you do when you love somebody”
“around again” and “back” referring to the cycle experienced in the relationship also reflected in the repetition of the bridge. also the second line expressing that this repetition—the holding on—is what love is.
“that’s what you do when you love somebody // else (when you love somebody) / else (when you love somebody)”
eNJAMBMENT MY BELOVED! okay but seriously. it’s the plot twisting of the “when you love somebody” line not only referring to the speakers reluctance to let go, but also all the omens the “you” presents to the speaker. it’s the idea of love being the reason why the speaker is blind to the warning signs but also why the warning signs exist in the first place. additionally, the avoidance of ending on “else” reflects the speakers avoidance of the realty of the relationship as well as their avoidance of ending the relationship (enjambment requires the following line to finish the thought -> without ending on “else”, the speaker is trapped in the loop of loving the “you” rather than facing that the “you” loves “somebody / else”.
Me, Myself, & I
overall repetition of the same verse(s)
honestly, there’s not a whole lot going on lyrically in this song. I do believe it is one they wrote primarily with radio play in mind (short, sounds good feels good, lyrics are easy to learn). however! the idea of the song is that the speaker is lonely—perhaps even isolated. that following bad omens, they are essentially abandoned. the repetition, then, conveys something similar to a room full of mirrors—no matter which way you turn, you are left with yourself. no matter where the song goes sonically, the lyrics do not change. also, being trapped in a mindset of “I am alone” can occasionally be a narcissistic outlook (ie: “everyone else was the problem, not me” or “where is everyone?” after you pushed them away), which the idea of room of mirrors & repetition of “me, myself, & I” follows.
“la-la-lie”
this is very similar to the hook in lie to me. which is a song about the speaker wanting to not be told the truth, but what they want to hear. which following up bad omens, it’s almost as if the speaker is putting their comfort above the genuine feelings of the “you”. it’s narcissistic in refusing the “you” their truth and conveys a refusal to escape the cycle described in bad omens, as this song repeats and repeats.
“... me, myself, and—”
interestingly, this song ends with a missing “I” at the end, similar to how bad omens leaves the listener waiting for a final “else. comparing the two songs being focused on the “you” to being focused on the “I” (respectively), it creates a connection between the “somebody / else” loved by the “you” and the speaker that was left behind. the similarity also shows that in the speaker’s refusal to acknowledge the “else” at the end of bad omens, they are also refusing to fully recognize the singularity of themself at the end of this song, despite already being aware as the song itself implies.
Take My Hand (Joshua Tree Version)
“a painted heart on the sidewalk / a bleeding sun on a silver screen”
the similar words to the chorus of comedown from wfttwatf (“bursting sunrise” and “a change of heart and a silver lining down camellia street”) just makes me want to yell. that is all.
“a few more souls on the bus now”
the bus metaphor! also I know I’m avoiding making implications about the autobiographical nature of the songs, but the idea of “a few more souls” referring to luke finding the rest of the band & muke + their partners.
“young man, look in the mirror / take my hand and don’t you ever let go”
wfttwtaf was about facing the past and so in this lyric, the speaker is instructing their reflection (ie: the person they see themself as) to hold on. to accompany them into the present and the future. it is an acceptance of self. also, the idea of letting go vs. holding on is very prevalent in the album. so where the speaker is letting go/let go of in previous tracks, they are asking themself not to.
“shut my eyes at seventeen” vs “open eyes right at twenty-three”
a cool connection between the two pre-chorus which describes the growth and change that the choruses ask for.
second verse as a whole
imo most of the lyrics in this song stand out in the story-telling aspect/sounding poetic, rather than a technical/clever play of words, use of sound, figurative language. that said, the second verse’s lines all ending on softer/slipperier/drawn-out sounds, gives a lullaby-esque/mirage feel to the song that conveys some idea of comfort (kind of like how holding someone’s hand can be comforting/guiding) and something unsettling false (transitioning from eyes closed to open as if escaping a false sense of security in ignoring some aspect of time/memory/life).
“take my hand” repetition
is it a demand? a plead? I think the latter. which is an interesting idea to want to hold onto oneself, but also in reverse. the question then becomes is the present speaker asking their younger self to take their hand? or the other way around?
CAROUSEL
“I built it from the ground up just to watch me burn it down”
contrast in the song’s first line again! the opposing “up” and “down”. also the fire motif of “burn” returns. an interesting contrast of this song’s destructive burning and the idea of a “burning sunrise” in Sydney being connected to the band’s origins.
“I tried to keep my head above the ocean of my doubt”
more water lyrics! like the previous lyric discussed, this line ties back to some of the imagery in easy for you to say. I think it paints this song to be an expansion of efyts, a follow-up where the speaker begins to try looking forward instead of back. which on a carousel would essentially be the same direction... the idea of cycles/circular motion/repetition continues. (also “spinning”)
“looking for myself in the passenger’s side / driving to the edge til I get this right”
this band and their driving and their cars. calling back to the lie to me music video... a very interesting analysis of being passive in life/lacking direction can emerge but that’s for a different post.
“around” and “now” repetition
yes this is more of the same lines repeating in the song, but either way, it creates a circular motion in the lyrics—no matter what happens, the song returns to a point it has already hit. lyrics are going in circles just like a carousel. in fact many of the songs on the album and most songs in general, reveal a circular motion (whether it’s me, myself, & I or what a chorus is). also the way that “now”s ending sound drags creates this tugging sensation, similar to the way a carousel pushes you through the turn to continue the circle. the present is continuously tugging the speaker along—the one-way ride of life.
Older
“as forever comes closer / hope the world will spin slower”
when I first heard the first line I thought of “objects in mirror are closer than the appear” on car mirrors. this connected back to the driving lyrics in carousel. the second line also connects back to carousel despite being initially appearing to be about time passing -> days passing -> earth’s rotation. while the speaker, in the previous song, wants the ride to continue and almost enjoys the continuous pace, they recognize in this song that the passage of time inevitably ends in death. that there is forever implied with marriage, but this life does have an end (next lives/afterlife differing for different people). the speaker acknowledges that the ride eventually must stop, but wishes for it to go slower as if to extend their time/better experience each moment with “you”.
“the promises roll-off your breath / in your cocaine-colored wedding dress”
on it’s own, I think this is a very clever couplet. “cocaine” is playing off of the imagery of the previous life—it is a great lyric except for the part of it being in this song. I do think it would function better in the context of a song about divorce/strained relationship. the idea of love and drugs is a common trope/theme and in the context of how the high of being loved/loving someone can be blinding, the couplet opens an interesting exploration. that said, it seems the speaker is acknowledging the inevitable end when it comes to their partner, in parallel to the inevitable end of a high. to which I have opinions on the way western media treats drugs as cool, etc. that I can’t really appreciate this lyric fully/unbiasedly. regardless of the context of the song, though, it stands alone as a smart play with imagery.
“my dear devoted delicate”
alliteration! it’s listing terms of endearment as if saying “my love, my love, my love”, where affection simply cannot be contained in one word. also the contrasting harshness of the beginning of “dear” and the last syllable of “devoted” with the softer (more delicate) sound of “delicate”. in the same way this song ties the beauty of the speaker and their partner’s relationship with the inevitable ending, the line mixes harsher and softer sounds in terms of endearment. it’s recognizing both strength and softness, it’s a love that seeks to care for but also must be cared for.
“it’s not worth it if I lose my one-way ticket for two”
first the slsp parallel: “... showed up with a plane ticket / and a shiny diamond ring with your name on it”!!!! second, this is all about commitment! on one hand the loss of the ticket could be death, on the other hand, it’s the speaker accepting the the cost of marriage/said commitment, is that eventually things come to an end. that they’re here for the journey more than the destination.
“I don’t want to get older / without your head on my shoulder”
best years: “I want to hold your hand while we’re growing up” except instead of the speaker seeming to look for comfort as they age, the reverse exists: the speaker wants to be someone that the “you” can lean on as they grow. the rhyme is so good! and the connection of “shoulder” with “older” is cool, where one grows as the get older, thus their shoulder becomes a better place to rest on—they hope to become a better person to depend on as they grow.
“your wicked smile, it says it all / mixed with my sad and cynical / no tragedy at the end / no, nothing shakespearean”
first two lines present the “you” and the speaker as opposites. similar to how the song contemplates the conflict of promising forever and forever having an unknown expiration date, the speaker and their partner represent the love that knows no end and the reality of life that love exists in the context of. the “all” vs “cynical” line endings are also interesting contrasts where having it “all” can be an optimistic view opposed to cynical, and also in that “cynical” ends in “all” except minus an l (it does not have it all).
second two lines are a very specific metaphor which I absolutely love in songwriting, etc.. shakespeare is well-known for his tragedies, so the speaker is asking for the ending (despite being death) to not end sad or tragic, but to fully recognize the beauty of love that they did have.
first and last chorus
starting and ending on the chorus plays on the idea of spinning in the lyrics of this song and the carousel metaphor of life. that tied to how sierra is there on the last but not the first, also parallels the theme of the song, where in life the speaker starts out without their partner, but eventually is joined in life by them, and while eventually there comes an ending, for now they have their partner with them.
HAZE
“got me feeling alright when the feeling’s long gone / got me feeling uptight every moment you’re gone”
the contrasting l-sound of “aright” vs. p-sound and t-sounds of “uptight” create a reflection of the feelings described in the lyrics. the l-sounds of the first line are drawn, they’re lazing, they’re unworried and dissipating. the harder sounds of the second line are stressed, they’re attentive, they call awareness to themselves like the speaker is aware of the “you”s absence.
“ventura was a ghost town, the city broke my heart, heart”
I just love specific lyrics lol but also the idea of a “ghost town” and how the line begins to fade with the “heart” repetition like the line is mimicking the leaving of people from the town
Part 2
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ambrosiagoldfish · 4 months
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I've never sent a request before, but I'm fiending for more adam, like anything, anything at all
Benefit of the doubt
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Adam x 3rd Spouse! Reader
Viewer discretion is advised
Warnings: Angst(?), Not exactly fluff at the end but it gets better, typical Adam TW’s, reader low-key high-key has a complex about being loved, this is set way before the show, and Gn! Reader. (Also Y/n isn’t used, which also surprised me, the author, LMAO)
Part 2 Part 3 Part 4
Request Box: Open
Word count: 1760
A/N: Hi! Thanks for the request! I haven’t had a chance to write something that was originally my own idea in a while, so this was very refreshing! I’ve had this idea since I’ve watched the show so I hope you enjoy it!
I’m entirely up for making a small series from this oneshot, but I would need to know y’all’s opinion on it! (So don’t feel scared to let me know if you want some more of this idea in my Request box/the replies on this post!!)
Also Adam may be slightly OOC but please just chalk it up to him not yet getting his ego’s dick sucked 24/7
Anyways, I hope you all enjoy, let me know if you do!
Proofread but of course could have left mistakes!
You’ve existed for almost all of human existence, Almost.
You were the 4th being to be created during the time of Eden. But unlike the other 3, you weren’t human. In fact, you technically never lived before. An honestly hopeless existence, yet it was so beautiful in every way. But for what purpose? Well…
You were created shortly after Eve ate the apple, before she and eventually Adam committed the first act of sin that caused evil to latch onto humanity like a leech.
The reason for your existence was simple. To be Adam’s new spouse, except for when after he died. From the very moment Eve bit the fruit of temptation, it was already decided she would hold no place in heaven. Adam was given mercy due to him not possessing any knowledge of the fruit Eve had shared with him, he trusted her wholeheartedly. Which is exactly why heaven gave him mercy… no, pity would be a better choice of words.
Upon your creation you learned immediately of the happenings before your existence. About Lilith and Eve, and about Lucifer
And so, after Adam and Eve were casted away from the Garden, they continued to live their lives, fostering the existence of mankind for the rest of time. And when they eventually died, Adam was given pity while Eve was thrown to the wayside, the vast unknown.
You thought it was finally your time to experience existence with the one you loved, the one you were made for. Of course you never would know life as he did but surely your life never-after life could be just as meaningful as his.
How excited you were, how completely enamored by the thought of it. But there was a problem with that, Adam had grown into a new person, he was meant to of course, he was human. But he had grown selfish, abhorrent… insecure.
You understood why, to be betrayed by not one but two of his wives for the same person. You couldn’t possibly imagine what he could be feeling. Before you were to meet your future husband, Sera informed you that he had asked for a mask, and once on, he has refused to take it off.
That didn’t bother you, it’s irrelevant to your love for him. You've only heard descriptions of his features. Short Brown hair, gold eyes, bushy eyebrows, some scruff on his chin. All in all, he sounded perfectly fine, ordinary even. But even then it’s his choice to wear the mask, so you’ll respect it.
Finally, the time he arrived in heaven, and when Sera finally introduced you, his new spouse, the one to whom would be by his side for the rest of forever.
He rejected you outright.
“What?” Your breath hitched as you stuttered over the word, the sharp inhale of your lungs through your mouth flicked through the air.
Sera looked just as shocked as you but she quickly regained her composure “What is the meaning of this Adam?”
“If you think I’m going to let my life get fucked over by another one of your “gifts” well, you’ve got another thing coming!” He crossed his arms and shook his head defyingly. “I’ve already learned my lesson with those last 2 bitches.”
“Adam I’m sorry that happened to you but I would never-“ almost like lightning his finger shot to your mouth, shushing you.
“Save it, Sweetcheeks, I really don’t care what you have to say, so just stay there and look pretty, k?” His hand fell and grabbed the sides of your face, squishing your cheeks together, his LED mask flashing a sharp smile.
You saddeningly looked down at the clouds below you.
“Adam!” Sera’s voice sounded through the air, still soft but firm, she continued, placing a hand on your shoulder, “Divine judgment allowed you to be the first human soul in heaven, so I gave you the benefit of the doubt. I expect you to give your new spouse that same grace.”
Slowly your eyes looked up at Sera with a soft smile. Adam only groaned “Ugh, Fine but don’t be fuxking annoying, capiche?” You nod your head quickly.
“Very good, glad we have it settled.” Sera gives a quick smile, “now, I have some business to take care of so I’ll leave you two alone to get to know one another” With that, Sera flew away leaving the both of you alone.
The silence was thick in the air, the only sound being the occasional wind breeze blowing past. The sunlight creeps in through the clouds painting an orange sky above you both. In every sense of the word, it was perfect.
It was almost funny. You had waited so long to finally meet him, your true love, the one you were made for. All the things you dreamed about, the laughs you’d have together, the warm embrace of the person who you loved. But now… you didn’t know what to say…
“I’m… happy to finally meet you.” Your voice is quiet, almost non-audible. “I’ve been waiting for you since… well, forever…”
He doesn’t respond. He seems to be transfixed on something below you both. You train your eyes on whatever he’s watching only to see the dark cavernous abyss below you. Finally he breaks his silence.
“The fuck is that?” He asked pointing down, a sound of genuine intrigue hidden behind his abrasive voice
“That’s hell?” You stated confused “where would-be sinners will go to be punished, didnt you k-“ you suddenly realized that perhaps Adam really didn’t know what hell was. It was only created relatively recently, after Eve and Him ate the apple, of course he wouldn’t know. “it’s also where Lucifer-“
“Don’t fucking say his name.” Adam spoke, his voice rough in his speech. LED mask putting a harsh frown on his face. “Let’s get one thing straight M”Kay babe, if you’re my “new spouse” that’s something you should remember.” The “new spouse” was said with a tone clearly meant to mock you.
“Sorry…”
“Ugh, It’s fine, just don’t do it again.” He groaned before a wicked smile crept onto his mask “Sooo, that means he’s going to be stuck with all the wasteful beings of existence, HA fuxkin’ hilarious. Guess that makes them the losers and us the Winners!”
His laugh filled the air, the sound was like music to your ears, sure maybe it wasn’t really what you’d hoped he’d fine funny, but you loved it all the same but eventually his laugh died down
Silence again… in admits of all of it you suddenly was sparked with a thought “oh!” Adam looked confused at the random exclamation. “I had almost forgotten… I brought you something, as a welcome gift or was it a nice to meet you gift? Both? Eh, it doesn’t matter but the point is-“ you suddenly snap your fingers.
Golden light began shining, the light seemed like liquid hot magma as it moved and molded slowly into a shape. Light seemed to be overlapping and churning into itself, forming your desired outcome. With one final snap of your fingers, the gleaming gold liquid took hold, and quickly hardened to a solid.
The object that had formed quickly fell down, landing in your arms with a light thud.
“I’m still learning this creation stuff, so I’m sorry if it’s not perfect but-“ you hold out the object in your arms as an invitation to grab it “I learned from Sera that you liked to play guitar when you were alive, so I thought you might like to have one here…”
Adam looked at the instrument in your hands. The base color was gold, the neck was pearly white with gold strings. To be honest it looked more like a harp then anything, like if a guitar and a harp had a baby.
Silence again. Did he not like it? Did he hate it? You go to pull it back to you and apologize when suddenly it’s ripped out from your hands.
“Holyshit, this is sick as Fuck!” Adam immediately started playing some rifts on the new guitar. The sound wasn’t what you were expecting but you guess Sera was right about his talent with the instrument. The whole time his mask had a wide and sharp smile as he mimicked guitar sounds with his voice, the occasional laugh leaving his mouth.
“I’m really glad you like it” you say, a sigh of relief leaving your body.
Adam looked at you, one you missed. He saw how relieved you were, how nice you were being. No person who supposedly loved him ever gifted him something, well, one other did. Someone he trusted and loved more than everyone, anyone. But look how that ended, with them being removed from the garden, away from an eternity of happiness until he died. All from someone giving him what he thought was nothing but love, a gift.
But he could see that this was different, you were different. When Eve gave him the apple, she didn’t explain what it was or why she wanted him to eat it, even when he asked her she didn’t explain. But with you, you had not only given him something you knew he liked but also expressed the reason behind it. Yes, you were different, even Adam could see it.
“Anyways, thanks for the axe, I guess…” Adam for the first time was stunned, but quickly he continued “What was the thing that Sera chick said about me and “divine judgment” or whatever the fuck? That she gave me the “benefit of the doubt…”
You were a bit confused but continued listening, “I guess I should at least try to give you a chance, since you got me this sick ass guitar an’ shit.” Your face lit up, you about began to speak before you were, once again, shushed “B-B-But-” his finger tapped your lips with each repeated syllable ”-only a chance. If you betray me like those last 2 bitches then you’re done, got it?”
To say you were overjoyed would be an understatement, a smile quickly plastered across your face as you quickly nodded your head
“Alright good, so uh, what do ya say about showing me the best places to get a bite to eat around here, I could really go for some ribs right about now.”
“ I’d… love to, thank you Adam”
“Yeah don’t mention it Sweetcheeks” Adam quickly wrapped his arm around your shoulder and you two began walking.
Maybe you will get your eternity of happiness.you can only pray you do.
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shawtuzi · 8 months
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HIDE N’ SEEK FT. GOJO SATORU
summary- you and your boyfriend decide to play a little game of hide and seek at a halloween party
content warnings include- modern au, a little plot but mostly smut lmao, oral m!receiving, throat fucking, shoe humping, fingering, a little groping from gojo, sorta needy!gojo but he’s also pretty mean, unprotected sex, rough sex, tongue sucking bc i’m obsessed w it rn, squirting, creampie, geto is a perv, rushed ending, not proofread /// wc: 3.1k
a/n- hi!!! i’m back kinda from my hiatus so pls enjoy this bc idk when the next time i post will be lmao
⊹˚. ♡.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ⊹˚. ♡.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ⊹˚. ♡.𖥔 ݁ ˖
gojo <3: i see you.
your heart rate began to pick up as you read the ominous text from your boyfriend. your eyes looked in every direction hoping to see someone in a ghost face mask on their phone, but unfortunately no such luck.
“why did i agree to do this . . . so stupid,” you grumbled to yourself as you shoved your phone in the back pocket of your sexy nurse costume. to add a little context you and your darling boyfriend, gojo satoru, thought it would be fun to play a little game of hide and seek at the costume party/bonfire one of his friends was throwing. you hide he seeks. the only catch was neither of you could have your location on and you weren’t allowed to tell anyone about the game. all you had to do was make sure gojo didn’t “tag” you before midnight. simple right? not.
you had thought nothing of it when he said he was going to be ghostface come to find out more than half the people at the party were dressed as the masked killer. it was easy to spot you of course—with your skin tight red and white dress and red stockings but trying to decipher which one of these people were gojo was simply impossible.
gojo was standing a few feet away from you, a sinister smile on his lips. he could see how frustrated you were becoming and boy was it a cute sight to see. your brows were furrowed and your red, glossed up lips were pulled into an adorable pout. you had the slightest tinge of fear in your eyes—between that and your costume he was becoming more riled up as the minutes ticked by.
you glanced at your phone—
11:42 PM
only eighteen more minutes and you were golden! you glanced at the part of the woods where it was dark and unoccupied with any party goers, without a second thought began to walk over to finish up the rest of the time. little did you know gojo was trailing behind you, quietly giggling at how silly you were for making this so easy for him.
“s’freezing out here,” your hands rubbed up and down your arms that were now covered in goosebumps. the only sounds that could be heard was the bass of the music from the party and your feet crunching against the dead leaves and twigs on the ground along with—another pair of footsteps???
you whipped around and were met with nothing but the party goers in the distance. you knew it was just a fun little game but you couldn’t help the feeling of dread that overcame you. you had half a mind to text gojo and call off the game but with only ten minutes left you decided to stick it out.
after a minute your phone buzzed in your pocket.
gojo <3- found you :)
“wha-?” all a sudden your front was pushed into a tree, you felt someone’s weight press against you along with something plastic poking against your throat. “i found youuu,” gojo giggled, pressing the plastic knife more into your neck. you pushed your backside into his hard on making him groan right into your ear. “no fair ‘toru…couldn’t find you anywhere with all those people wearing the same costume,” you whined, slick beginning to stain your lacy white panties.
gojo hummed and without a second thought shoved his free glove covered hand into your panties, cupping your sensitive pussy. “c’mon baby you know i don’t like to play fair let’s not act dumb hm?” you couldn’t see his face but you knew just from the tone of his voice he was grinning from ear to ear. gojo used his middle finger to rub at your clit, giving you minor relief while he humped your ass. you both stayed like that for a moment before he began to grow bored.
“suck my dick,” was all he said, removing his hand from your panties much to your dismay. “but—but ‘toru—” you were cut off by gojo squishing your cheeks together roughly. he pushed you down by your shoulders, not caring that the twigs were scraping and poking against your soft skin. (don’t worry he’ll bandage you up later if need be <3)
“now if you recall from earlier..” be began to unbuckle his belt, “we agreed that whoever won got to do whatever they wanted with the loser right?” he waited for you to nod your head before continuing. he slowly unzipped his pants, pulling them and his briefs halfway down his toned thighs. “and who’s the winner?” he giggled, tracing his almost painfully hard dick against your lips. you darted your tongue out to get just a little taste of him, making satoru visibly shudder. “you, you’re the winner,” you mumbled, setting your hands in your lap.
gojo cradled your face his hands, fighting the overwhelming urge to rip off the ghostface mask and kiss you till you were breathless. “don’t look so sad babydoll, i’m about to fuck your throat and your little pussy so good let’s look alive yeah?” he gave your cheek a rough couple of pats. he brought his index and middle finger to your lips, “open your mouth.” you parted your lips and with little to no warning gojo shoved the digits down your throat, impressed that you had kept your gags to a minimum. he rubbed your saliva around the length of his dick and gave himself a few quick strokes before pushing the tip against your lips.
you wrapped your lips around his dick and gojo’s hand immediately found purchase on the back of your head. “yeah . . . jus’ like—fuck, l-like that,” although he was putting on a tough façade for the sake of the situation it was fading away quicker than he had anticipated. you were just so good with your mouth :(
you didn’t even care that you lost, now too enamored in the pretty sounds that were slipping past gojo’s lips. and you both certainly didn’t care that anyone could possibly catch you in the act. “i need to record this shit goddamn,” with shaky hands gojo held up his phone and started to record you, quietly apologizing for the sudden flash of light in your face. you played it out a little for the camera knowing gojo was definitely going to use this vid for times when he’s by himself. you wrapped both of your hands around his dick and worked quick pumps around the tip while your other hand moved slowly up and down the base.
satoru felt his knees buckle a little when you started sucking on his balls, nearly dropping his phone in the process. “you’re s-so fuckin’ hot, so hot n’ a-all mine yeah? please say it,” he didn’t give the slightest fuck how pathetic he sounded. all needed in this moment was for you to tell him his dick belonged to you and you only and vice versa. “yes toru all yours,” you hummed leaving kisses around the base of his dick. that was all he needed to hear before he tossed his phone to the side and began to brutally fuck your poor little throat.
each time your nose pressed against his pelvis from deep throating him it just gave him more incentive to put a fat rock on your finger and never let you go. your dress had ridden up and without even thinking gojo pressed the top of his shoe against your cunt making your hips jerk forward. “hump it, hump my fuckin’ shoe and cum from it,” his ‘demand’ was shaky and breathless but nonetheless you listened to your boyfriend and started humping his shoe.
between gojo still ruthlessly fucking your throat and the laces of his shoe rubbing deliciously against your clit you were overstimulated beyond belief—and it felt incredible. he loved when he could turn your brain into a pile of mush and you enjoyed it just as much. after holding your head firmly against his pelvic area for god knows how long gojo removed your mouth from his dick, finally letting you get some air. you didn’t know if it was alcohol, the blunt you took a few hits of, or just horniness in its purest form but you were feeling insatiable.
you wrapped your arms around his thick thigh and planted your knees firmly into the ground before moving your hips with quickness. gojo was surprised at your actions, his dick visibly twitching at you getting off on his fucking shoe of all things. “i’m—i’m close, can feel it toru i’m—o-oh my!” a sharp gasp left your lips when gojo began tapping his foot just the slightest. “jerk me off n’ let’s cum together,” you didn’t need to be told twice as you wrapped your hand around the base of his dick, suckling on the tip as well to bring him even closer to his peak (and to avoid getting cum in your face/hair heh).
you both came in unison a chorus of moans and groans leaving both of your mouths. “that—that was good, you’re so good y/n c’mere,” gojo was quick to pull you to your feet and pushed your back right against the tree that was shielding you both from any potential spectators. “i wanna kiss you so bad,” he spoke softly, cupping and massaging your breasts over your thin dress. “but i really wanna fuck you with this stupid mask on,” gojo gripped your plush thighs and lifted you up with ease, you weren’t even the littlest but surprised when his impatient ass practically ripped your panties in half trying to get them off.
“put it in for me,” gojo muttered, blindly shoving your tattered panties in his back pocket. you complied whispering out a little ‘anything for you toru’ before slowly swiping his sensitive tip between your pillowy soft folds. just as you were about to slide him in you heard voices and footsteps that sounded like they were getting closer and closer. “w-wait someone’s coming!” you whisper-shouted but that didn’t stop gojo from pushing his dick into you with one swift thrust. a broken moan emerged from your throat and you were quick your cover your mouth with both hands.
“put your fuckin’ hands down no one’s gonna see us,” gojo hissed, his toes curling from how tight and hot you felt. you hastily removed your hands making gojo smile behind the mask. “they might not s-see but they’ll—hah! hear us toruuu,” you whined burying your face in his neck.
gojo made sure your legs were securely wrapped around his waist before yanking the ghostface mask off, he pressed his lips against yours without missing a beat. “guess i’ll just have to keep kissin’ ya to make sure you don’t make to much noise yeah?”
“yeah . . . . you’re right.”
⊹˚. ♡.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ⊹˚. ♡.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ⊹˚. ♡.𖥔 ݁ ˖
“do—do you guys *hiccup* here that?” a drunk, poor unknowing geto slurred out, his brows furrowing at the sound of grunts coming from the darker part of the woods. of course no one responded, too invested in literally anything else besides geto’s drunk ramblings—plus his jason mask muffled anything he had to say.
geto pushed himself up from the log he was sitting on, nearly falling over in process. “guess i’ll go look myself…dickheads,” he muttered to himself, making his way over to the suspicious noises. he stopped dead in his tracks when he heard a particularly loud groan and that’s when it started to click. “holy shit . . . h-holy sh—”
“satoruuu!”
if geto was in his right state of mind he would’ve turned around with a quickness and forget this ever happened—but he’s not. his feet stayed planted, not daring move an inch closer. he hadn’t even realized be was starting to palm himself over his pants—already half hard. he could feel his heart in his throat as he took one step forward . . . and then another . . . anddd another.
he stopped once he could clearly hear the schlick schlick schlick noise of gojo pounding mercilessly into your poor pussy. he couldn’t see much but he could hear everything. he could hear your cute little pants and whines as you tried to poorly keep quiet, he could hear gojo muttering what must have been dirty promises into your ear, but in his opinion the best thing he heard was how sloppily you and gojo were kissing.
anytime your moans were becoming louder and more high pitched gojo would smash his lips into yours, shoving his tongue into your mouth without warning. gojo sucked your tongue into his mouth, a groan rumbling in his chest when he felt you tighten around him. “you taste like alcohol . . . you been drinking tonight love? is t-that why you’re being so—hah! fuckin’ loud? hm?” his ring and middle finger began toying with your clit and your lips started to tremble. hot, salty tears began to run down your cheeks making gojo giggle. “you’re s’cute when you cry, please cry more for me,” he cooed licking at the never ending stream of tears flowing from soon to be bloodshot eyes.
“you’re—you’re such a *sniffle* p-perv ‘toru,” you whined, tangling your fingers in his snow white locks. when you have a particularly harsh tug gojo’s knees buckled the tiniest bit, nearly making him lose his balance. “i see you’re feeling pretty mean huh? lets fix that . . . only thing i need you to feel is numb.” gojo removed his fingers from your clit and without warning shoved the digits between your lips. man oh man did you wish he would’ve taken those stupid gloves off, what you really needed in this moment was the feeling of gojo’s soft fingertips prodding at the back of your throat.
gojo slowed the pace of his thrusts, more focused on fucking your throat with his fingers. once he had his fix he removed his fingers from your mouth, smearing any excess saliva on your lips and chin. he slowly pulled his dick out, the moonlight mixed with the dim light from the bonfire making him glisten with your slick.
“n-no! no no don’t do that here someone will definitely hear me ‘toru,” you pouted, knowing good and well what gojo’s intentions were. gojo hummed as he rubbed his fingers between your soaked folds, pretending to to thinking about the consequences of his actions before giggling once more. “oh well!” he smiled, inserting his fingers into your pussy, immediately finding that spot that had your eyes rolling into the back of your head.
“god do you hear how wet you are? such a slutty fuckin’ pussy goddamn,” gojo growled, adding his thumb to the mix by rubbing your almost painfully sensitive clit. you didn’t know how the fuck he was holding you so steady with one arm but you couldn’t even bother to care, too focused on your upcoming orgasm. “p-please . . . please add ‘nother finger ‘toru i need it,” you gasped loudly, back arching against the tree when you felt gojo begin to suck at your breasts over the thin material of your dress. gojo added another finger, increasing his pace until he felt your legs begin to shake.
he brought his lips close to your ear, nibbling and sucking at the lobe. “you’re so lucky we have to walk in front of everyone once we’re done or i would’ve torn this dress to pieces,” his words had your toes curling, and your eyes rolling back for the umpteenth time as your pussy squeezed around his fingers.
while you were quickly chasing your peak geto was trying his absolute hardest not to reach his just yet. his pants were pulled down just enough to let his aching dick out and he wasted no time stroking himself to your pretty moans.
it was no secret to the three of you that geto had found you attractive—shit with the way gojo boasts about your guys’ sex life how could he not be curious??? yes curiosity. that’s all that this was. once he got off he would walk away and never think or speak of it ever. but he couldn’t help but think of the next time he sees you walking around with a limp and accidentally starts to wonder what positions gojo could’ve possible put you in . . . or wonder how brutally he had fucked your throat when he hears how hoarse your voice sounds.
his thoughts were interrupted by a high pitched moan that was quickly cut off by what he assumed was gojo’s lips on yours. he heard gojo say in a teasing tone ‘you tryin’ to baptize me over here?’ and he nearly cummed imagining your fucked out face and trembling legs.
a spurt of cum landed on your thigh and gojo tsked, shaking his head. “that won’t do, gotta be inside you now so i can finish inside,” he hummed, realigning his dick with your entrance. he pushed in with one swift thrust and that’s when your finally felt your brain turn into a muddled pile of nothing but lust and want. although it was dark gojo could still see the dazed look in your eyes and it brought a blissed out smile to his lips, which were now stained red from your lip gloss.
“c’mon baby talk to me, how do you feel?” gojo purred, pressing his forehead against yours. your words kept getting caught in your throat and all you could mutter out was a pathetic ‘feels s’gooood’. gojo could slowly feel himself begin to crumble, mumbling out incoherent sentences along with you. “i know baby i—shit, i know. feel so good ‘round me, so perfect you’re so perfect gimme a kiss,” he smushed his lips against yours with a clash of tongue and teeth—his fav kinda kisses.
“gotta big load for you baby, c’mon cum with me i know you can do it,” gojo’s words of encouragement finally brought you to your peak and this time you both just let it out. every pushed down moan and groan could be heard from anywhere if anyone paid close enough attention but neither of you could find it in you to care. gojo’s hips stilled as he emptied himself inside you, his tongue lolling out in the process. you were quick to bring your hands to his soft locks, gently scratching his scalp. “don’t do that, gonna make me too tired for the drive home,” he chuckled, giving your sweaty neck a sloppy kiss.
“speaking of, how am i supposed to walk with all this in me it’s a lot satoruuu,” you whined, feeling the urge to smack gojo on the back of the head for tearing your panties in two. gojo sighed, stroking your bare thigh gently with his thumb muttering something along the lines of ‘i’ll handle it’.
while you and gojo took a minute to regroup from your intense fuck session, geto was regrouping himself from possibly the most intense orgasm he’s ever had. of course he felt disgusted with himself for spying on his best friend fucking his girlfriend but he also wanted more???
this was definitely going to be a problem.
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leclerc-hs · 5 months
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don't wake the kids - cl16
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pairing: charles leclerc x nanny!reader (fem) summary: in which you got his daughter to finally fall asleep but risk waking her up not too long later warnings: 18+, slight smut, oral (f-receiving), bad french (please correct me i was tired while writing this lmao), not proofread!!!! word count: 1608 author’s note: i think i’ll write more for them bc i like the idea of single dad charles LMAO. this was fun xoxoxo
PART 2
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
THERE WAS SOMETHING about Mr. Leclerc that always made you stare at him in admiration. Maybe it was the fact that he always excelled at everything he did. For instance, raising a daughter on his own couldn’t have been easy. Hell, merely spending a single night watching over his kid has you feeling thoroughly drained. So, when Charles came home to you sprawled along his couch with the TV on a low volume, he wasn’t surprised. In fact, the sight brought a grin to his lips. You were the absolute cutest thing he had ever seen. Aside from his own daughter of course.
You weren’t even aware of the impact you left on him and his daughter. There wasn’t a day where you weren’t mentioned by his daughter. She adored you, and he did too.
“Comment était-elle?” How was she?  His voice was deep as he dropped his keys on the table of the entry way table. “Fatiguée?” Tired?
You barely moved as he approached the room, too comfortable to even sit all the way up for him. His hands rest in the pockets of his dress pants as he leaned up against the arch of the living room, suit jacket slung over his shoulder, eyes never straying from yours. 
You felt yourself swallowing harshly at the sight of him. He’s so fucking hot. “Elle était un ange!” She was an angel! There was a soft glow of moonlight that seeped through the curtains, casting a gentle radiance on the room as you whispered those words. You were whispering, careful to not wake her in the next room over. But also, in attempt to hide the desire in your voice. It would be a complete lie if you said you didn’t find him attractive. If you didn’t think about him that way.
With a subtle exhalation, Charles gracefully moved away from the archway, making his way towards the couch. He lowered himself onto the couch beside you, his head finding a comfortable perch on the back cushions, a gentle smile gracing his features. His legs extended languidly, and the contours of his thigh muscles subtly asserted themselves through the delicate fabric of his dress pants.
Turning his head to look at you, “Would you mind staying in the spare room tonight?” 
His eyes, an enchanting shade of green, held you captive in a mesmerizing trance. Lost in their depths, his question became a distant echo, momentarily forgotten in the captivating allure of those verdant depths.
It wasn’t an abnormal question. At least, not anymore it wasn’t. You’ve been watching his daughter for months now and have occasionally crashed at his when it was too late at night. When you didn’t answer right away, lost in thought, Charles felt the need to wearily add an “I’m too tired to take you home.”
It’s not that you didn’t have your license, but you didn’t have a car. And because it meant more money, you always said yes. At least you always told yourself it was for the money. But it really was for all the times you got to see a shirtless Charles in the morning. His hair all disheveled, eyes full of sleep. The rasp in his voice. And also, the breakfast.
His hand swiftly dropped to your exposed thigh, the tennis skirt adorning your body doing little to cover you. He patted the area right above your knee softly for your attention, “Je suppose que tu n’as pas de vêtements; je vais te trouver quelque chose.” I assume you don’t have clothes; I’ll grab you something. The touch was so miniscule, so quick, that you could barely grasp the concept that it happened before he was already standing.
Although staying over wasn’t new, borrowing his clothes was.
You found yourself unable to speak as he stood from the couch and made his way to his room. The air was charged with a delicate tension. You were convinced it was the suit that had you stumbling for words, or maybe the fact you haven’t had sex in months and Charles is just that fucking hot, and in front of you, looking at you, touching you.
“J’espère que cela est assez bon.” I hope these are good enough. Bathed in the gentle luminescence of the room, Charles gazes down at you with an intensity the captures the essence of the moment. In his hands, he holds a neatly folded pile of clothes, extending them toward you with a certain grace. A faint, sleepy smile graces your lips as you accept them. 
With a languid elegance, you begin to rise from the comfort of the couch, only to find Charles extending his hand toward you. His fingers confidently entwine with yours, pulling you up. Although, it seems Charles underestimated his strength because you are sent flying to your feet, awkwardly tripping in the process. But before you can make a total fool of yourself, Charles is slipping an arm around your waist, holding you to his chest.
You can feel your cheeks redden in embarrassment, “Je suis tellement désole.” I’m so sorry.
You feel Charles laugh reverberate in his chest, making you more alert of just how close you two were. “Ne sois pas désolée.” Don’t be sorry.
In that suspended moment, time seemed to stretch, creating a timeless place where you and Charles were encapsulated. Locked in a shared gaze, the world outside this intimate bubble ceased to exist. Uncertainty lingered in the air, an unspoken question hovering between you two. Charles’ firm hold persisted, grounding the moment in the tangible warmth of his touch. 
As the stillness enveloped you, his eyes were fixated on your flushed cheeks, a canvas painted in hues of warmth. The intensity of his gaze conveyed an admiration that transcended words. To Charles, the sight of your blushing complexion was nothing short of captivating – an endearing revelation of vulnerability that only heightened your allure.
“Tellement jolie,” So pretty. The words were so soft. Barely audible if it wasn’t for your proximity. It was as if he didn’t even know he said them out loud.
You felt frozen while trying to decide if this was a dream or not. But when the pads of Charles thumbs made way to your face, tracing your bottom lip slowly, you knew you were fucked.
“Est-ce que je peux?” Can I?
You wanted to scream. Yes! You felt your stomach churning with need. But externally, you were calm. You needed to be quiet.
You made the move to nod your head when his lips collided with yours. It was slow and tentative at first. Like he was trying to test the waters. He pulled away for a moment, eyes staring into yours once again, as if he needed to make sure you were okay with this.
But as soon as he saw your lips draw into a smile, he knew he was fucked.
The second time your lips met it was feverish and messy. All tongue and no air. The clothes that he handed you previously, now lay on the floor in a messy pile, your hands sliding around his neck. You both go tumbling down onto the couch.
He groaned quietly into your mouth – a sound as if the taste of you was something he craved his whole life. His hands dropped from your jaw, closing around your neck, as you felt him push your further into the couch cushion with the weight of his body.
“J’ai besoin de toi,” I need you.  You managed to slip the words out, your fingers trailing through his hair on the back of his head.
Before you had the chance to press your lips back together, he was pulling away, leaving you breathless and a little confused until his hands dropped to the waistband of your skirt. His fingers shoving their way in and pulling them down, your underwear being yanked off in the process. His gaze met yours once more, filled with anticipation and eagerness.
“Tu as l’air tellement putain de bien comme ça.” You look so fucking good like this.
Like this. Spread out and beneath him. Completely bare and whimpering for him. 
You could hear him curse to himself as he draped your leg over his shoulder, seeing how wet you already were. 
The first drag of his tongue on you was enough to make your back arch instantly. He groaned, his nose brushing against your clit as he dipped his tongue inside of you. Every dip of his tongue sent you bucking your hips harder against him. And he loved it. 
With every stoke of his tongue, your fingers fisted his hair tighter. You began to buck your hips, so close to reaching your orgasm, but he denied. His hands were quick to push your hips down onto the couch. He wanted to hear you beg. 
“Charles,” you sighed softly.
“Hm?” You didn’t even have to look at him to know he was smirking. His tongue was placing slow licks to your clit, light enough to keep you right on the edge.
“S’il te plaît.” Please.
Charles was back sucking on your clit in less than a second, his hands sliding up to your covered breasts, squeezing them. He moaned into your pussy, the sound enough to send you spiraling over the edge. You gripped onto anything that was near and placed it over your face, trying to cover the moans that were escaping your lips.
Your body shook as you pressed the pillow into your face. He licked you as you came down and didn’t stop until you were practically shoving him off.
His lips were glossy and puffy, coated with you. A smirk on his face as he stood up and looked down at you completely flushed on his couch, half bare. You looked at the bulge of his cock, pressing against the seams of his dress pants, and then back up at his eyes.
“Bedroom?”
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popamolly · 3 months
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‘PRETTY GIRL!’ LUCIFER MORNINGSTAR
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summary. lucifer gets jealous and wants to remind you that you belong to no one but him.
warning. smut, overstimulation, established relationship, you and lucifer are married, alastor gets flirty with you, lucifer is a soft dom, vibrator, squirting, semi-public sex??, please don’t fuck where people eat/make food lmao, 18+ minors dni, kinda proofread sorry
author’s note. this is a 500 followers special! thank you all so much for the constant love, enjoy sinners.
𖤐 MASTERLIST
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Lucifer and you had been frequenting the Hazbin Hotel ever since the tearful reunion between father and daughter. You didn’t mind, in fact, you encouraged it not just because you thrived off seeing your step-daughter Charlie and your husband happy but also because you would take any excuse to step out of that dreadful palace Lucifer and you called a home. It was just so boring and bland there where as the Hazbin Hotel was always lively and filled with some life threatening chaos that was exhilarating.
Now that you were back at the Hotel, you helped around whenever you could with enthusiasm. You were in charge of hanging up the banner that welcomed the new sinners but alas, the fixture was to high and your darling husband wasn’t anywhere in sight to help you.
As if sensing your distress, Alastor appeared from the shadow on the floor next to you with a wide grin, “Would you like some assistance, your majesty?”
“Yes, yes thank you.” You allowed Alastor lift you up onto his shoulder by your waist so you could tape up the banner. Once you found your balance, you began to quickly tape up one corner of the banner, trying to ignore the way Alastor’s fingers grazed along your thigh as he held you in place.
This was all a spectacle to be sure because you had no doubt that the radio demon could have manifested into something taller to help tape it up himself but you were sure this had something to do with his resentment toward your husband— though their feelings toward each other were mutual, “A little to the left Al…perfect, thank you.”
“Hoho, what is this?” The sound of your husband’s voice had you turning your head slightly to look at him just as Alastor set you back down on your feet with a knowing grin.
“Well, I—”
“I was only helping this darling damsel in distress as her husband was no where to be found,” Alastor’s grin widens as he turns to you with a respectful bow of his head, “If you need anything else, my dear. Anything at all. Do not hesitant to ask.” His staticky tone left a hint of suggestiveness that you picked up on and it left Lucifer practically seeing red. You cursed yourself being so caught up in helping Charlie that you didn’t mind accepting Alastor’s help for the simplest of tasks.
As you looked at Lucifer you realized that you should’ve maybe gotten a ladder before you even thought about letting the radio demon touch you because now you were going to pay the price for it.
And pay you did.
“W-Wait, Lucifer..!” Your eyes rolled into the back of your head in pure bliss as Lucifer rocked his hips into you even though you already came You both still had a whole task of things to do before the new sinners arrived at the hotel but Lucifer couldn’t wait. The moment you stepped into the nearest room, which was the kitchen, he pounced on you. He laid you on the marble island counter, fumbling with his pants belt.
“What were you going to tell me? Not to worry about that freaky bastard?” Lucifer loomed over your figure with that playful grin, his tongue sticking out as he spread your legs wider for him, "What's wrong? hm? I bet he wishes he could fuck you like this.”
"I—fuck— was going to say that he was only helping me!" You part your lips, "P-Please, right there—!"
“Was he now?” Feeling that you were about to cum, Lucifer picked up the pace, his hand around your throat as he ruts into you ruthlessly. He was so pissed, so jealous— how dare that radio demon flirt with you? Touch you? Who did he think he was?
"You hear that?" Lucifer brought his hips back only to snap them forward again, the squelch sound that came from how wet you were had your whole body heating up, "Listen to how wet you are and that’s all because of me."
You felt that coil within you about to snap with an orgasm. Your legs trembling and toes curling as you felt it approaching fast. Lucifer was not holding back tonight and the overstimulation you felt had your mind going into a haze, "please, please, please!"
"c'mon gorgeous," Lucifer let out a low groan, tossing his head back, "fuckkk, cum for me again."
At his words you came, a small scream leaving your throat as you felt your orgasm wash over you. Still coming down from your high, Lucifer gives you a couple of seconds to recover before moving his hips again. He materializes a vibrator in his hand before placing it directly onto your clit.
You shuddered, hand moving down to grip his wrist as tears escaped your eyes from the overwhelming pleasure, "Lulu, p-please—!"
"I know your limits," Lucifer says with that prideful smile, his voice dominating, "Move your hand."
Your move your hands to grip your thighs, the built trust between you was enough for you to see this mind blowing pleasure through, "W-Wait, I'm going to— ah~!"
Lucifer lets a glob of spit leave his mouth, you felt it hit directly onto your naked cunt, watching as his saliva coats your already soaked clit and slides down the sides of his length before pressing the vibrator into you harder, "You're going to cum for me again."
You shake your head, pathetic sobs escaping past your lips, "I don't think I c-can Lu—!"
"Yes you can sweetheart, and you will," His words cause a shiver to go down your spine. "Look at this sloppy pussy taking my cock so well."
You look up at Lucifer with pleading eyes, your hand resting on his chest as if to push him away, your nails pressing tiny crescents into his skin, "I'm g-going to c-cum—! Don't stop, r-right there—! Fuck!"
The sight of you crying and succumbing to the pleasure was exhilarating in Lucifer’s eyes. His beautiful wife was a sobbing, drooling, trembling mess before him. You were dick drunk and high off pleasure, your words coming out in broken fragments.
Just as he was getting flustered at the way you were presented before him, he couldn't help but think about Alastor in so close proximity to you. Had he thought about you in this way before? That question alone made Lucifer’s mind come up with endless possibilities, making the jealousy rise within him as his blood boiled.
He thrusted into you harder, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing throughout the room as he made sure to angle his thrust, repeatedly hitting you in all the right places. He pressed the vibrator impossibly deeper into you, making you arch your back with a sudden scream,
"L-Lucifer!"
With one final thrust, Lucifer had sent you spiraling over the edge as you squirted around his length, making his thighs and the counter wet with your essence.
Lucifer pulled out of you quickly to slap his cock against your clit, rubbing it against your folds harshly to relish in the lewd sound before thrusting back into you slowly to cockwarm you, "There you go love, good girl.”
You trembled, a string of hiccups leaving your mouth as Lucifer laced his fingers with yours, leaning down to kiss you sweetly as if he didn't just fuck you dumb,
"You did so well for me, darling."
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Meanwhile on the other side of the wall sat the bar Husk was currently stationed at with Angel, who’s jaw was nearly on the floor at the sounds that just came from the kitchen, “Did we just hear the big boss man and his lady gettin’ it on in there?”
“Nope,” Husk denied it. After all, ignorance was bliss, “I didn’t hear a thing.”
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© POPAMOLLY 2024 all fanfics belong to me, do not copy, translate, or repost on any other social media.
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httpiastri · 5 months
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this christmas – op81
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ski slopes, mistletoes, and the guy you've been crushing on for years – what could be better?
genre: fluff, mutual pining, friends to lovers!au, smut (just one scene in the end, you can skip it if you want)
pairing: female leclerc!reader x oscar piastri
other characters: lando norris, charles leclerc, george russell & mundt, alex albon & lily muni he, pierre gasly & kika cerqueira gomes
warnings: mentions of alcohol, smut, not much more i think
word count: 13.8k (LMAO)
requested?: yes!!
author’s note: hello hello!! a lot to say about this one. first of all, thank you to @be-your-coffee-pot for this request, and i apologize for not getting to it earlier than now. for everyone’s knowledge, the request was sent in to me in august, so… yeah. i know it’s not exactly what you asked for, but i hope you like it anyway <3
second of all, i feel pretty happy about some of these scenes, but some… not so much. some of the fillers have parts that i really despite, but i don’t really have time to rewrite since christmas is like 2 days away lol. also, my description of the reader’s relationship to charles is not my best work, idk why he barely even appears, and i’m also not sure why logan isn’t in this...
third of all, my red divider things make my posts disappear from the tags, so i didn’t put any in this time. it looks bad, i know, but idk how to fix it. if anyone does, please let me know. :)
and lastly: i only proofread this whole thing once yesterday, but tumblr was being a bitch and i got so frustrated that i do not have the energy to proofread it again. so please, if you happen to find any spelling or grammar mistakes, i would be very thankful if you let me know. <3
hope you all enjoy !!
december 12th, 2:11pm
oscar has always loved winter.
it started in his childhood; the holiday films he'd seen as a child, the way it always seemed to magically snow right on christmas eve really started something in him. it hadn't been common for him to get snow back home in australia when he was younger but once he moved to the england, he got to experience it quite a lot. playing, fighting and just existing in the snow was like an unfilled childhood need that stayed with him until his older years.
he loved spending christmas at home with his family, but ever since he got to experience real christmases with snow, trees and cozy darkness, he craved it more than he craved lying on the beach in his swimming trunks.
so when he was asked to come along to the swiss alps for a vacation during the winter break, he packed his bags right away. he and lando just happened to book the same flight, and they both arrived at the airport around noon, getting into a cab to take them to the accommodation together.
when they arrive outside the cottage, oscar is in shock; it is enormous. he had imagined just a tiny, cute little house – not that he was sure how seven drivers and a couple of girlfriends would fit in a "tiny" house – but he was far from right.
him and lando are the second pair to arrive, just about an hour after alex and lily, who are the self-proclaimed 'hosts' as they took care of all of the booking and planning.
"we thought that one would be lando's room," alex starts, pointing down the hallway. "since it's far away from everyone else, and i'm sure we all would prefer to actually get some sleep during the night time."
"oh, shut it..." lando mumbles, shoving his friend on his shoulder.
"this one can be yours, oscar," lily says, moving in the opposite direction and gesturing to another room. then, she points at the one right next to it. "and this one has two beds, so it's for charles and his sister."
oscar's ears perk up. "y/n is going to be here?" he speaks almost took quickly, making the other three turn to look at him.
"oh, i thought you knew..." lily has an apologetic look on her face.
"i must've forgotten," oscar answers, though he's completely sure no one told him about it. there's no way he would forget you. "don't worry, it's cool."
the hosts continue to move down the hallway, and the mclaren boys are just about to follow along when lando elbows oscar's side playfully. "it's cool?"
oscar raises an eyebrow, trying to keep calm. "what?"
"the youngest leclerc coming along?" a grin takes up lando's entire face. "it's just cool? is she cool, or-"
"goodbye, lando." oscar shakes his head, darting towards alex and lily again. he takes a few deep breaths, hoping the blush he can feel spreading across his cheeks isn't too obvious.
unfortunately, lando didn't need to see the blush to know. he has caught his teammate staring at you too many times over the season, and he is fully aware of the way oscar always is suddenly interested in the conversation whenever you're the topic of discussion.
lando knows everything. and this christmas, he's going to be the best wingman the world has ever seen.
‎‎ ‎‎
december 13th, 12:53am
it's past midnight when you and charles arrive. your flight had been delayed, and then the gps had stopped working all of a sudden. and then, charles just refused to drive any faster than 30 km/h, saying it was too dangerous. as if he didn't drive cars in ten times that speed without even flinching.
you assume the whole house is sleeping already, so you and charles both sneak in as quietly as you can. someone – lily, assumably – has left you a note on the front door, guiding you to your shared room. it all goes smoothly – until charles trips over the doorframe, dropping his bag onto the floor as he tries not to fall down. the sound rattles through the hallway and you flinch, stopping in your tracks as you hope no one's woken up. but just a second later, the door opposite yours opens and a head sticks out.
oscar.
your heart softens and your shoulders relax when your gaze meets his. your soft smile is mirrored on his face, the sleepiness evident in his droopy eyes and the way strands of his bedhead point in every direction.
he looks like he's just about to say something when charles speaks up. "sorry, man! were you asleep?"
he walks up to the australian, giving him a firm handshake and a pat on the back. oscar shakes his head. "i was up reading," his huskey accent is like music to your ears. "i thought i heard some rustling out here, and then..." he nods his head toward the suitcase on the floor.
your brother laughs as he steps back, walking into the room with the "leclerc" sign. "well, i'll let you get back to that then," he says, picking up the bag from the floor and looking back one last time. "good night."
and then, you were just two.
you and oscar stand still for a moment, just watching each other. then, he opens up his arms, welcoming you into his embrace. you step forward and drape your arms around his shoulders as his wrap around your waist, and you let out a content sigh. he's warm, comfortable, and the way he squeezes your body has your mind spinning.
"it's been a while," he says when you part from the hug, a soft grin playing on his lips.
"like a month," you chuckle, crossing your arms over your chest.
"a month has never felt this long before."
you're not sure when your crush on him started forming.
as someone who's always been interested in racing, even in the series your brother isn't in, you've kept up with most results and championships – including oscar's seasons in f2 and f3. after seeing oscar, the unstoppable rookie who completely crushed his season in f3, you made sure to keep an eye at him in f2 the following year. and it's easy to say that you liked what you saw. especially in jeddah.
you'd meet him occasionally around the paddock the following year, just giving him a sweet smile and a quick greeting as if it was no big deal. but you always found yourself squealing on the inside and taking deep breaths to stay calm whenever you made eye contact with him.
then came 2023 and his debut in f1. yet again, he exceeded everyone's expectations, performing better than most drivers who'd been on the grid for years. with his permanent role on the grid, he was around more – and so were you. it wasn't uncommon for the two of you to bump into each other, around the paddock or during media days or in afterparties, and now you tried not to shy away.
talking to oscar was always simple. he was easygoing, it all seemed effortless, and you felt more relaxed. before you knew it, you could chat about racing strategies and tyre management for twenty minutes before a member of the mclaren staff interrupted you, rushing oscar away somewhere. you got to know each other slowly throughout the season, though never really going further than some friendly conversations, but you felt happy knowing that you'd taken the first step towards getting closer to him.
"so..." he starts. "you've been good?"
you nod. "yeah, a lot of studying but it's been alright. you?"
"yeah."
and there it is again, that slightly awkward silence. it's natural, you haven't seen each other since that night in abu dhabi and you're both a little unsure of where you stand after it. the tension is so thick that you could cut through it with a knife, and you kind of want to escape the whole situation. but then he speaks up.
"hey, i just wanted to-"
he's interrupted by the call of your name, and when you turn around, charles is leaning against the doorframe, eyes hazy. "are you going to sleep tonight or what?" he asks, dragging a hand through his already messy hair.
you feel a weight lift off your shoulders – and at the same time, your stomach tightens in disappointment. you nod at your brother, looking back at oscar to give him a wave and a "sleep well", before joining charles in your shared room.
oscar stands still in the corridor for a moment, before sighing and slapping himself in his mind for being so awkward and messing up this opportunity. but on the other side of the door, you stand still too as you watch your brother jump onto his bed, taking a deep breath to clear your mind.
you're just thankful the room is so dark that he can't see your ever-reddening cheeks.
‎‎ ‎‎
december 13th, 10:24am
despite the never-ending pitter-patter of your heart as you went to bed last night, you could fall asleep quite quickly, seeing as you were utterly exhausted from traveling. breakfast this morning feels like you and charles have just been reunited with your childhood friends after being kidnapped for years; not like you had just gone a few weeks without seeing each other. everyone runs around hugging, chatting about how much they've missed each other and how great this trip will be.
"did you get new highlights?" kika asks you, sliding into the seat next to you by the long table as you stuff a piece of bread into your mouth. the room is a combination of a kitchen and a dining hall, with a big cooking area and a glass wall giving the dining area a beautiful view of the mountains outside. in the middle stands a long table with enough seats for all of you, filled with fresh pastries and other breakfast goods to celebrate the first day of the trip. "or is it just the light?"
"just the light," you answer, shooting her a smile as you pick up your cup of coffee.
"oh my god, i almost forgot to ask you," lily starts and places her elbows on the table, her face resting in her hands. "what happened to that guy from raya you were talking to? did you end up going out?"
oscar is sitting a few seats down the table, pretending to be immersed in a conversation with some of the other drivers about the last few races of the season, while actually just doing his best to listen in on the conversation you're having. when he hears alex's girlfriend mention raya, his ears perk up and his breath gets caught in his throat. a million thoughts instantly crash into his mind.
she's seeing someone? how could i not know this? she's on raya? is she actively looking for a partner? who is this guy they're talking about?
he coughs and tries to act normal, shaking off the uncomfortable feeling passing through his body. he soon hears the sweet sound of your wholehearted laughter, and he almost smiles instinctively at it, before he can remind himself that lando's story about las vegas isn't exactly a smiley matter. "you're not going to believe this, i have the best story," you say in-between fits of giggles. "i met up with him for some drinks, and guess what he said? that he has a foot fetish and has dreamed about me caressing his face with my feet." all of the girls squeal and explode with laughter, making some of the boys flinch and look over to see what all the commotion is about. "so, safe to say, we never met up again. and i haven't wanted to go out with anyone else from there, either. i have a feeling they're all just creeps."
"hey, don't lose hope!" kika says while elbowing your side, but her actions are too soft, forcing you to fold over as an uncomfortable feeling spreads through your body. however, a burst of laughter spills past your lips. kika immediately holds her arm back, laughing along. "crap, i'm sorry! i totally forgot how ticklish you are."
you shake your head, your hand landing on her shoulder. "no worries," you tell her. "but, i haven't lost hope. i just don't think my soulmate is lurking around on raya with the foot fetishists."
oscar feels his shoulders relax again, feeling alright with focusing back on the boys' conversation now that he knows you in fact aren't seeing anyone.
maybe he has a shot, after all. as long as he doesn't talk too much about your feet.
‎‎ ‎‎
december 14th, 3:09pm
lando thinks he's so smart.
when he tells oscar to go ask if you'd like to have some of the gingerbread cookies he's bought, it's the third time today he has forced some kind of interaction between the two of you. he is sure that the more time that the two of you spend with each other, the more likely you will be to stop pining and just confess already.
but this time, oscar glares at the brit. "why don't you ask her yourself?"
"because you know what room she's in," lando hums back, reaching into the cupboard with some groceries. "i keep getting lost, the house is too big. plus, i'm busy." he motions to the half-empty grocery bag on the counter.
oscar lets out a sigh, but nods. "how can you memorize all tracks on the calendar, but you get lost in a cabin?" he asks rhetorically, whilst turning around and making his way down the hallway towards your room.
it's not that oscar doesn't enjoy 'accidentally' being forced into talking to you; it's the extreme lack of discretion lando is showing that makes him annoyed. it makes oscar seem like he's the one coming up with silly excuses to talk to you, and he doesn't like how it makes him look. he'd rather be seen as chill, laidback, someone who doesn't force things. he doesn't want you to catch on too early and reject him.
your voice echoes a 'come in' when he knocks on the door to your bedroom, and he pushes the door open just a little to reveal you sitting on the bed, a thick blanket wrapped over your shoulders. a grin spreads across your lips when you make eye contact with him. "hi," you say, placing the book you were reading on the bedside table.
"hey," he answers, stepping inside the room. "i... lando bought some gingerbread cookies, and we were going to make some hot chocolate, and..." his voice trails off as his eyes wander down your body, taking in the christmas sweater you're wearing and the fuzzy socks covering your feet. he smiles absentmindedly at the sight, loving how cozy you seem, and wishing he was sitting right there with you, sharing the blanket.
you nod, understanding him despite his lack of words. "i'll be right there."
oscar gives you a thumbs up – one he then facepalms himself for when he's left your room – before moving towards the kitchen again. but when he walks into it, he sees something hanging from a lamp. he stops in his tracks. "no way..."
festive cookies aren't the only thing lando bought when he went to the local supermarket. he also got the ultimate tool for securing his master plan – a mistletoe.
he doesn't know how, but he's planning to make sure you and oscar meet underneath it at least once before the holidays are over. there's no way you'll both be able to avoid it all week.
of course, lando isn't the only one rooting for the two of you. most of the other drivers know too – how can they not notice the glances you share and the way you light up when someone mentions the other in a conversation? – and most of them are in on his plans. charles is probably the only one in the house who's still oblivious to your and oscar's pining, and lando thinks that he might interfere with the matchmaking if he figures something out, so the brit keeps quiet.
oscar wants to pull the mistletoe down, rip it apart and throw it in the trash, but he refrains. something inside him tells him this might actually work out in his favor – and he decides to trust his gut this time.
‎‎ ‎‎
december 15th, 2:01am
sleeping can be tricky, especially when your brother is snoring loudly in a bed just a few meters away from you.
who even decided to put him and you in the same room?
when you've been tossing and turning to no avail for about an hour, you decide it's time to do something, anything, to hopefully get a little tired again. a glass of warm milk never hurt anyone, did it?
you make your way to the kitchen, pour yourself a glass of milk and put it in the microwave, before turning to look through the windows.
the view of the mountains is breathtaking. there is an untouched, thick layer of snow covering the area, with new flakes still falling. the sun set long ago, but the snow makes it all seem light. the lake below you is just barely visible by now, almost completely coated in snow.
it's completely serene, and you find yourself getting lost in the scenery. however, you're shaken out of your trance when you hear steps behind you. when you turn around, your eyes find someone standing just a few meters away, barely visible in the dark.
you jump in your place and clutch your chest in shock, not expecting anyone else to be up at this hour. when the person steps into the light of the little kitchen lap you had turned on, you relax instantly. "holy shit, oscar," you breathe. "you nearly scared me to death."
"i'm sorry," the australian chuckles. "i didn't know how to approach you without scaring you..."
"what even are you doing up?" you question, crossing your arms over your chest as you lean back against the counter.
"i was just reading in my bed when i heard your door opening, and then footsteps, so..." he trails off when his eyes wander out towards the living room, seemingly just as taken by the sight as you were just moments ago. "i wanted to make sure everything was okay."
"well, everything is okay, so..."
there's some kind of awkwardness hanging in the air. it's not only because of the obvious uncertainty of what to say or do in this situation; it has more to do with the fact that this isn't the first time that the two of you have found yourselves this close with this much tension, all alone at night. sure, it's a lot like the night of your arrival here, but another memory springs to your mind, too.
just under a month ago, following the after-party in abu dhabi, oscar had accompanied you back to the hotel when you started getting too tipsy to keep yourself up on the dance floor. your brother had been nowhere in sight, so oscar took it upon himself to help you out, draping an arm across your waist before walking you all the way to your hotel room. and when you'd arrived in the dimly lit corridor, you'd turned up towards him to thank him, accidentally brushing your nose against his as you did. both of you had broken out in giggles, neither especially sober, but you stayed close – and when the laughter settled, you just watched each other. when his gaze had flickered between your eyes and lips, your breath hitched in your throat, the anticipation growing stronger. you had leaned in even closer, your eyes fluttering closed-
but just as your lips were about to brush his, you had been interrupted. a door a few meters away had opened and the two of you jumped apart, watching as your brother stepped out and exclaimed that he had been wondering where you ended up. oscar had wished you both a good night before hurrying off, the embarrassment of almost getting caught by his friend being too much for him to handle.
you just hoped oscar had been too drunk to remember it, because otherwise, things were bound to get quite awkward. you didn't want him to act differently around you just because you have feelings for him.
thankfully, he hasn't said or done anything to make you think he does remember it.
as you're thinking back to that night in abu dhabi, you nearly get your second heart attack when the microwave goes off with a loud beep. you scramble to turn it off and take out your milk, almost burning yourself on the hot glass in the meantime.
oscar watches you with an amused grin before he forces his gaze off you, eyes wandering over to the windows again. "quite the view, huh?"
you look over your shoulder at the blanketed mountains. "yeah, it's breathtaking," you reply, before growing quiet.
he pauses for a moment, too. "there's something magical about this place. makes everything seem simpler, quieter..."
you nod. "yeah, it does."
something about the moment makes you realize that maybe, just maybe, the awkwardness between you and oscar isn't as insurmountable as you once thought it would be. the shared quietude is comfortable, and you feel at ease. he hasn't brought up abu dhabi – he probably won't, you feel – and maybe you could both just put it behind you and focus on enjoying your trip.
when you eventually get back in your bed, it's with the same kind of pitter-patter of your heart as when you and charles arrived in the cabin a few days ago. needless to say, the glass of warm milk probably isn't going to help.
‎‎ ‎‎
december 16th, 9:02pm
the mistletoe has moved.
when you first noticed it the other day, it was hanging from a kitchen lamp. and now, it's in the doorframe leading into the living room.
you're planning on avoiding it at all costs, not wanting to slip up and accidentally get under it with the wrong person. or the right one, for that matter. the awkwardness of kissing your crush in front of friends and family would be too much to handle.
some others seem to have the exact opposite attitude towards the decoration, though. kika and pierre can be found by it about ten times per day, and alex and lily have no issues sharing a few kisses whenever they "accidentally" pass it.
no matter what, lando has a mischievous grin whenever anyone mentions it, or even walks near it.
his grin stays on when he decides to let himself be in charge of the outing you all have to the christmas tree farm nearby. the farm is too big and would take too long if everyone was going to look at every tree, so lando divides everyone into groups of two based on who they're standing next to as you walk past the gates.
what a coincidence that you're standing right next to oscar when he says this.
lando ushers the two of you off to the rows with quite tall, pre-decorated trees. "so," oscar starts as you both stop in front of a tree with white lights and ornaments hung all over it. "what do you think about this one?"
"well, it's lovely," you say, scanning it thoroughly. "but isn't the true test how well it fits into the living room?"
he nods, despite his confusion, and he shoots a curious glance your way. "and how do we determine that?"
with a playful grin, you hold up an imaginary measuring tape, pretending to size up the tree with a critical eye. "i'm trying to figure out if it fits this corner best, or..."
he follows your gaze, realizing the tease in your words. "i think maybe it's better in the other corner," he hums and points to the side as you turn a little.
"exactly."
lando never inserted himself into a group; he's too focused on watching the two of you share a lighthearted laugh at the situation. though his mistletoe back in the cabin might still have a trick or two up its metaphorical sleeve, he is already proud of his matchmaking antics.
and, he is sure you'll both crack. it is just a matter of time.
‎‎ ‎‎
december 17th, 1:43pm
"i never thought skiing would be this hard," you groan as you step into a cottage, the warmth enveloping you and beginning to defrost you instantly.
oscar laughs at the exasperated tone in your voice. "this was just the kids' slope, you do remember that, right?" you stick your tongue out at him, slumping down on a bench by a table. "you just wait before you do some real skiing..."
you had never skied before today. oscar had, but he said it was too long ago and that he needed an easy start. plus, he couldn't just leave you all alone in the children's slope without an instructor.
you'd fallen over at least five times, despite the fact that the slope was practically flat. thankfully, oscar promised to buy you some hot chocolate in a cottage café to cheer you up.
when he comes back from the cashier carrying two big, steaming cups of chocolate, you've regained most of the feeling in your fingers again. the hot piece of ceramic almost burns your skin, but you think it's worth it; you need the sugar and you need it now.
"you know what the worst thing is?" you ask, bringing the cup up to your face with both hands. you start sipping on the drink and oscar glances at you with a questioning look as he slips down next to you on the bench. "carrying those goddamn skis with me. not only does it suck to actually ski, but dragging them all the way from the rental shop…"
"if it's that much of a bother, i can carry them for you."
"and carry your own too?" you scoff, watching him flinch as he burns his tongue on the drink. "you're not that strong."
he lets out a groan. "you're not even strong enough to carry your own, so you shouldn't say anything."
"i can carry them!" you protest, shooting him a glare. "i just don't want to. two very different things."
you both go silent momentarily, too busy focusing on how good it feels to no longer be frozen to the marrow. the cabin is filled with people; kids running in circles around the tables, soon to be tired again after the initial sugar shock from their afternoon snack; a group of older ladies gossiping and enjoying getting some rest just like you; and some young adults in the far corner are already busy dancing on the tables with their after-ski drinks in their hands.
"you know what? i changed my mind," you tell him, scooting away from him a little and placing your skiing boot on the bench. "these things. they're the worst."
you start to unclasp the boot, sighing in relief as you finally tug the shoe off your foot, throwing it onto the floor. you've only worn it for about an hour, but you can already feel the bruises beginning to form. you're just about to reach down to undo the other boot, too, when oscar reaches towards your foot.
your eyebrows shoot up as he takes it in his hands, pulling the foot into his lap. and then, his fingers begin to wander up and down your foot and ankle, giving you soft squeezes and pressing down on the spaces where he thinks the boot has squeezed you the most. you hold back a pleasured sound, seeing as it would sound way too inappropriate right now, but oscar subconsciously takes note of how you're getting flushed because he soon looks up at your face.
"is this okay?"
you swallow down the lump in your throat, nodding quickly. "y-yeah… just don't tickle me..."
when did things get so intimate? mere minutes ago, you couldn't think about anything other than how you were so cold your nose was going to fall off. but now, you can't stop your eyes from following his long, sleek fingers, thinking about how good they feel and imagining how good they would feel somewhere else-
"give me your other foot."
you're thankful that he interrupts your train of thought before your mind wanders too far.
compose yourself, woman.
"don't tell me you have a foot fetish, too," you tease, turning around so that you can place your other foot on the bench too. he lets out a hearty laugh, swiftly undoing your other boot before letting it drop to the ground.
"oh, shut it. do you want a massage or not?"
you shoot him pout, giving his shoulder a thankful pat before taking your cup in your hands again. you focus on the drink, watching how the steam rises and the marshmallows melt. you can't look over at him anymore, scared of your cheeks growing too red and your face giving away your feelings.
the bell by the door rings behind you, and you look towards it out of habit. and in comes alex, george, lily and carmen, laughing and chatting loudly about the black slope they just went down. oscar doesn't seem to notice, but you hastily pull your feet from his lap, sitting down properly – unfortunately making eye contact with alex as you do. he leans forward to lily, whispering something in her ear, and you watch as her eyes dart to you and a smirk grows on her lips.
shit.
the clicking of her boots against the stone floor meets your ears and oscar turns his head at the sound, suddenly realizing why you withdrew from him. "hey there," lily cheers, each of her hands landing your and oscar's shoulders. "what have you been up to?"
your eyes meet his briefly, before looking back up at lily. "just... drinking some chocolate..."
"oh, no skiing?"
"she crashed too much, i couldn't keep her out there and let her continue to embarrass me all day," oscar tells her and you shove his shoulder.
"do you mind if we join you guys?" george asks, coming around the table and not even giving you a second to think about it before he sets two cups of chocolate down on the table. the grin he's wearing only tells you one thing: alex told him already. carmen's lips show off a matching set.
"not at all..."
‎‎ ‎‎
december 18th, 10:32am
you huff as you slump down on the living room couch, your mood not even getting brought up by watching the newly installed christmas tree in front of you. you hadn't even been out skiing that much yesterday, yet every single inch of your body aches. not only do you have big, blue bruises on both of your hips due to the many times you've fallen onto the hardly packed snow, but every muscle screams with pain as you drape a blanket over your body. needless to say, you decided to stay at home today instead of heading out with the others for another round.
"are you sure you don't wanna come along?" kika asks as she enters the room, her pretty pink sunglasses perched at the top of her nose. the pout on her lips almost makes you doubt staying in, but when you move to sit up more straight again, you know you've made the right decision.
you nod, giving her a weak smile. "yeah, sorry."
"but oscar promised to come along?"
you freeze, your cheeks growing red as you hear her words.
did she know? about your feelings for him? did the others already tell her about the incident in the cottage yesterday? did they really interpret the situation that way?
"w-what?"
"oh," she chuckles at your reaction. "i just meant that he was so bad yesterday, so i thought that seeing him fall over a couple of times would be worth the pain."
"we're gonna trick him into going down a black slope with us," says pierre who walks into the room, arms lacing around his girlfriend from behind. "we'll send some clips."
you let out a breath of relief as they leave the room. maybe they don't know. maybe your secret will stay secret for a little longer.
the group leaves in pairs or trios and you tell them all goodbye from your place underneath the many blankets. everyone has left by now except for oscar, which confounds you since the others seemed to have so many plans for him. your confusion only grows when he steps into the living room without any skiing gear on, just wearing an oversized, cozy hoodie and a pair of sweats.
"why aren't you out with the others?" you question, your eyebrows raised at him.
"well," he sighs, flopping down next to you on the couch. "i can't find my helmet." when you shoot him a doubting look, he raises his hands defensively. "what?"
"i don't believe it."
"you don't have to, but it's the truth."
"how do you even lose a helmet? it's so big?" you scoff, crossing your arms over your chest. "i assumed you were used to keeping track of where your helmet is since if you don't have your helmet with you for races, then you can't race."
"i swear i put it on the drawer by the front door like half an hour ago. i don't understand what could've happened."
you have to give it to him; he is really doing his best to cover this up. you find it pretty obvious that he just doesn't want to ski because of what the others were planning to do to him. but maybe if kika and pierre hadn't spilled their plans already, you would've believed him.
"but hey," he says, bringing you out of your thoughts. "don't feel obligated to include me in whatever you were going to do here now that you finally have the house to yourself." he pushes himself off the couch, standing up and shooting you one last smile before turning to walk away. "i'll let you have some peace."
he takes a couple of steps towards the bedrooms, but then you get the idea. "oscar." he stops in his tracks, throwing a glance back at you. "i was planning on doing some baking, and…" you shuffle slightly in your seat. "it wouldn't hurt to have an extra helping hand."
"i'm a horrible baker, though."
"and i'm the best baker ever, so i guess we cancel each other out." you stand up from your seat, keeping the blanket wrapped around your shoulders as you make your way toward the kitchen. "let's go make some mediocre cookies!"
oscar shakes his head, grinning to himself as he follows behind you. this was definitely not what he had planned, but he sure is liking the way it's going.
‎‎ ‎‎
december 18th, 8:14pm
oscar had not been kidding when he said he sucked at baking.
he put in twice the needed amount of flour, and only half of the sugar. and as if that wasn't enough, of course the mistletoe had moved to the kitchen, making the whole situation quite uncomfortable as you both had to take strange routes while navigating through the kitchen to avoid it. not even your baking skills could save the cookies.
as an apology, oscar promised to buy some fancy gingerbread cookies tonight at the christmas market you'd all planned to go to in a nearby city. he was strongly set on going through with his promise, despite how many times you told him that it was alright and that they wouldn't taste as good as homemade ones anyway.
you've all been at the market for almost two hours now, but it feels like you've only gone about ten meters. your friends, mainly lando, george and alex, are stopping at every single shop and stand, making sure to check out all products and buying at least one thing in every store, no matter how long the line to the cash register is.
"lando-" you groan at the sight of the brit running into yet another store; this time, a shop filled with christmassy outfits for dogs. "he doesn't even have a pet…"
kika is grinning next to you, shaking her head. "he told me earlier today that he wanted to buy a present for roscoe if he got the chance," she says as most of the group joins lando. "makes more sense than when he bought that screwdriver thirty minutes ago just because it was green."
"the power of 'christmas colors', apparently," you hear oscar's voice from behind you, and you turn back to meet his eyes.
"well, i'm not surprised. just disappointed. and cold, and tired of standing still."
oscar points his head to the side, up the street. "i think i saw a stand a little further up that sells cookies, maybe they have some gingerbread ones."
you nod, a small smile entering your lips. "let's go check it out, then. kika, do you wanna come-"
you're cut off by the sound of pierre calling for his girlfriend, holding up a reindeer costume and blabbering on about how it would be perfect for her cousin's dog. "sorry guys," kika says before strutting off to her boyfriend.
you both shrug before walking down the street towards the stand oscar had spotted. the sugary scent of cookies meets your nose from far away, and your mouth waters at the mere thought of the sweets. when you arrive, a sweet old lady sitting behind the stand greets you and tells you all about the different cookies she's baked. gingerbread, sugar cookies with little candy canes, snowball cookies, and various traditional swiss cookies.
"would you like to have a taste, dears?" the lady asks, pointing her hand to a plate with samples. you and oscar take a gingerbread cookie each, popping it into your mouths.
"oh yeah, this is lovely," he says, looking like he's savoring every crumb.
"much better than ours," you answer, nudging his shoulder with yours. he gasps and places a hand on his chest, feigning offense.
you turn your attention back to the lady and telling her you'd love to buy a little box of cookies from her. oscar pays for them and she wraps the box in some pretty gift paper, handing it to you before you continue making your way down the street. the house walls and all trees are wrapped in christmas lights, some blinking in random colors and some with a soft glow of an elegant white. the streets are filled with people wearing santa hats, ugly christmas sweaters, and scarves so big half of their faces are covered. there's not a single frown in sight, the happiness and love so obvious you can almost see little hearts flowing above everyone's heads.
you glance into a couple of different stores as you stroll, stopping occasionally to check something out. when you reach a stand with different kinds of jewelry, something catches your eye: a golden necklace with a heart-shaped charm hanging from it. you carefully pick it up, your heart fluttering in your chest as you inspect it.
and when you look up at oscar from the necklace in your hands, he feels like the air is stolen from his lungs. your eyes are twinkling with happiness, outshining all lights in the entire christmas market. the excited smile on your lips is contagious, and suddenly, it's like the world around you has stopped and everyone else has disappeared. you're both just grinning at each other like two lovestruck fools, nothing in either of your minds other than the person in front of you. the sight of your rosy cheeks from the cold makes the butterflies in his stomach multiply by the second.
wow, he really is totally and fully whipped.
"really pretty," he finally gets out, unsure if he's talking about the necklace or the woman standing before him.
"pretty? it's gorgeous," you answer, eyes flickering back to the jewelry in your hand. "i adore it. how much is it?"
just as the guy in the booth is about to answer, you feel someone grab your free hand. "come on guys, they're closing down soon and we still have a bunch of shops to visit!" kika is pulling you along so fast you barely have time to put the necklace down.
lily notices the disappointment on your face and pats your shoulder. "we'll come back here sometime before christmas, don't worry."
lando shows you the christmas tree costume he bought as you wander down the market again, but oscar suddenly stops. "guys, i forgot my phone back at the cookie stand. keep walking, i'll catch up with you," he says, pointing behind him with his thumb and disappearing before anyone can say anything.
it's a good excuse, but you clearly see the outline of his phone in his back pocket as he hurries down the street.
‎‎ ‎‎
december 19th, 9:22pm
the days roll on with a gentle rhythm of shared glances and fleeting touches between you and oscar. unbeknownst to both of you, lando, ever the persistent wingman, continues his behind-the-scenes matchmaking efforts.
in some magical way, lando manages to get you and oscar paired up for pretty much anything. board game night? you and oscar just happen to get the exact role cards that make you teammates. time for some ornament decorating? you and oscar are the only ones who don't get a seat on the couch, having to sit on the floor together and share all your materials.
funnily enough, it never gets awkward between the two of you. even when you are left all alone, there is always something to talk about, some dumb thing lando has done that you can tease him about behind his back, or something you are curious about when it comes to his racing career so far. somehow, being with oscar started feeling comfortable, natural, unforced.
one specific night, alex comes up with the idea of playing card games, to which only a few of you are actually interested. some plan on going to bed early so they can hit the slopes first thing in the morning, while others just aren't in the mood. oscar said he would just finish wrapping some christmas presents and join you all later, and you catch yourself feeling disappointed that he's not on the couch next to you, helping you win (or taunting you to make you lose). it surprises you how much you're drawn to him, how it feels like something is missing when he isn't around, when you didn't feel this way just a few days ago.
you try to shake the feeling off, but it's still lingering even as you start playing with your friends. eventually, you excuse yourself to get a glass of water from the kitchen to take your mind off things. but-
just as you round the corner going into the kitchen, your head crashes into something hard. you shriek as you stumble, hands coming up to grab the person in front of you as you lose your balance, but a pair of hands wrap around your back, holding you up. when you look up, you're met with oscar's big brown eyes blinking down at you. "you okay there?"
you let out a relieved breath, nodding at him. "yeah, thanks to you. what were you doing coming around the corner that fast, though?"
he chuckles. "what were you doing not looking where you're going?"
"touché."
your hands are still holding on to the front of his hoodie, and you're about to let go of him and walk away when you notice something in the upper periphery of your vision. something is hanging above you. but, it can't be-
of course it is.
the mistletoe.
oscar looks up just as you do, jaw dropping slightly. "oh..."
"indeed..."
you both keep your vision pointed up, as if the mistletoe would disappear if you just keep on staring at it. oscar's hands slowly begin to slide off your back, and he's hoping you'll both just pretend like none of this ever happened. it would be the least awkward thing to do.
"maybe-" his breath hitches in his throat when you speak up. his gaze is on you again, but you're still looking at the plant. "maybe we should do it. just... for the christmas spirit, you know. i love christmas."
you don't even know what you're blabbering on about. you're trying to improvise a reason to kiss your brother's colleague that makes at least a little sense, but you're completely lost. you realize how dumb you sound, and you expect to see him staring at you like you actually are insane when you look back at him.
but what you don't know is that he thinks it's the best idea ever. he is just as into it as you are, if not more. he doesn't look at you like you're crazy; he's just dumbfounded, blinking at you as he tries to understand what's happening. did the girl he likes really just say they should kiss? because she loves christmas?
oscar gulps, but something in him gives him the courage to nod. "i mean," he starts, voice weak. "what's the harm? it's just... tradition."
"right. yeah, that's exactly what i was thinking."
the tension is higher than ever as your faces are already just inches apart. you aren't sure who should take the initiative and lean in, but before you can overthink it, you're both doing it subconsciously. your noses brush against each other briefly and a little giggle escapes past your lips, and this whole situation feels very familiar. this time, oscar can't hold back anymore, so he closes the gap and presses his mouth to yours.
the kiss is quick, not much longer than a peck, but something changes inside you. when you didn't know what it felt like to kiss oscar, you didn't think too much about it. but now that you have felt his lips on yours, you crave it.
he seems to feel the same way, because when you kiss him again, he's pressing against you instantly. your hands move from his chest to his shoulders as your lips move in sync, tilting your head to get a better angle. oscar's touch travels up and down your sides, fingers grazing the bare skin of your stomach when your sweater lifts.
oscar takes your bottom lip in between his teeth and you let out a hum, making him grin into the kiss. his tongue swipes between your lips before slipping into your mouth, exploring it for the first, but hopefully not last, time. you wrap your arms around his neck to pull him closer, already growing hot as his hands move down to your butt.
kissing oscar is so easy, so comfortable. it's like you've done it so many times before, like it's what you were made to do.
you're so relaxed and so focused on the kiss that you don't even hear lando's footsteps right next to you, nor his snicker from a few meters away as he picks up his phone to snap a couple of pictures. you don't even hear him strutting away to the living room, nor his loud proclamation to the group: mission complete.
‎‎ ‎‎
december 23rd, 8:35am
the rest of the days leading up to christmas consist of a lot of sneaking around.
the days are filled with secretive kisses when you're sure no one is watching, fleeting pecks or longer liplocks, hurriedly parting and acting like nothing happened when you hear approaching footsteps. they're filled with soft brushes as you pass each other in hallways, little squeezes of your waist or his arm when someone is around, conveying more than anyone could guess. and they're filled with giant, knowing smiles matching on your lips, with longing gazes and sly winks across the dinner table.
now, his hand is warm in yours despite the freezing temperatures of the air. when you said you forgot your mittens in the cabin, oscar had just smiled, taking off one of his own to give it to you. and to heat your other hand, he intertwined his fingers with yours, his thumb stroking the back of your hand as you walked.
you'd slipped out of the house before anyone else had woken up, wishing for a peaceful moment for yourselves. the two of you haven't really had time to properly talk ever since your moment under the mistletoe, and even though it wasn't outspoken, you both knew there were things to be discussed.
you're halfway around the lake when he finally touches on the subject. "so..." he starts, nudging your shoulder with his. "you like me, huh?"
you snicker. "i have for quite some time now, actually."
his hand squeezes yours. "tell me about it."
and when he asks, you tell.
you tell him about seeing him all those years ago, thinking that he was just a pretty face, a good driver, and not much else. you tell him about getting to know him more and more in the last two years and realizing that shit, he's so much more than that. you tell him about the butterflies, about the sneaky glances, about falling for him.
and then, he tells you his side.
he tells you about knowing of you from your first appearances in the f1 paddock, the curiosity in him growing for every picture of you and charles he saw. he tells you about wanting to approach you but not knowing how, not wanting to come off too strong or clingy. he tells you about how nothing has ever been more disappointing to him than charles's timing back in abu dhabi. then, he tells you about how his fingers had secretly been crossed all trip, hoping that lando's attempts to pair the two of you up wouldn't fall through.
you share giggles and smiles as you tell your stories, and it all feels so natural even though it's so new. and you think to yourself that maybe, this won't be so hard to get used to.
‎‎ ‎‎
december 23rd, 5:46pm
"how are things going with oscar?"
lily's voice makes your heart skip a beat. you had just walked into the kitchen to grab a gingerbread cookie, not expecting her to be doing the dishes this late in the evening – and especially not expecting her to ask you something like that. "what do you mean?" you ask back, trying to stay composed as you strut over to the cupboard, reaching into it for the box of cookies.
"are you going to be like... boyfriend and girlfriend now?"
the box slips out of your hands and crashes to the floor before you can catch it again. did you hear her correctly? your eyebrows shoot up and your mouth hangs open as you look at her again. she scoffs.
"oh please, the two of you aren't exactly sneaky," she says, looking back into the sink. "you know, lando took pictures of you under the mistletoe. and we all saw you coming back from your little trip to the lake earlier today."
"oh my god." you cover your face with your hands, letting out a groan. "oh my god. no way."
lily laughs, washing the last few plates under the tap before placing them on the side to drain. "don't worry, we were all in on it."
"and what does that mean?!"
"lando had a plan." of course he did. "we all agreed to help him out. except charles, he's still oblivious."
"what kind of plan?"
"well, just small things here and there, really." she wipes her hands on a towel before turning around and leaning against the counter. "hiding oscar's helmet so he'd have to stay here with you instead of skiing with us. walking really slowly in the market so you'd both get so tired of us that you'd stroll off alone. and the mistletoe, but that's obvious..."
as lily spills the details of lando's plan, you feel a mix of embarrassment and surprise, along with a hint of amusement. you're suddenly very aware of the collaboration that has taken place behind the scenes, and you take a deep breath as you slowly lower your hands from your face.
"so... lando really orchestrated all of this?" you exclaim, still trying to process the fact that your friends have been actively working to bring you and oscar closer together.
lily chuckles, nodding. "yes, and he's been loving every moment of it. we all figured you two needed a little push."
you shake your head in disbelief, a smile playing on your lips despite the initial shock. "what's the endgame here? is lando secretly a matchmaker or something?"
"he wishes," she says with a smirk. "i think he just enjoys playing cupid when he can." she shrugs, crossing her arms over her chest. "but hey, it worked out well, didn't it? you and oscar seem pretty cozy."
"yeah, i guess..." the mention of oscar brings a blush to your cheeks. "i just didn't expect to have a whole team of co-conspirators."
lily laughs, stepping forward to pat your shoulder. "it's all in good fun. besides, it's about time something happened between you two." you nod in agreement, smiling at her. "now, spill. how are you feeling about all of this? is he boyfriend material?"
you hesitate for a moment, contemplating your newfound dynamic with oscar. a smile tugs at the corners of your lips. "yeah, maybe. we're figuring it out, i guess. it's all been... surprisingly nice."
she grins, satisfied with your response. "well, then, i'd say lando's plan was a success." she backs away, walking towards the kitchen exit. "just enjoy it, okay? and don't be too mad at us. we just wanted to see you both happy."
you nod and watch as she leaves, still processing the directed events that have led up to this moment. as you're left alone, you can't help but smile to yourself at the thought of everything that's happened – and everything that's yet to come.
suddenly, for the first time in your life, you feel thankful for something lando has done. you'll have to remember to thank him later.
‎‎ ‎‎
december 24th, 10:23pm
just a few hours ago, charles was challenged to a snowball fight with the rest of the twitch quartet. and how could he ever say no to them?
for you to fall asleep before he got back would just be stupid, because there's no way he will be able to keep quiet when he eventually he crashes into the room post-fight. so instead, you sit against the headboard of your bed, a thick blanket draped over your body and a good book in your hands as you enjoy the tranquility of the last few moments of christmas eve.
there's a soft knock on the door, one so low you could've just as well missed it. "come in," you call out, looking up from your book as the door creaks open. surprise paints your face as oscar enters the room, his eyes sparkling with the thrill of carrying out a secret mission.
in his hands, oscar holds a beautifully wrapped box, adorned with a crimson bow. "merry christmas."
"oscar, what are you up to?" you ask, laughter dancing in your eyes.
"giving you your present." he sits at your feet, holding out the present to you.
you place your book beside you on the bed, accepting the gift with a curious smile. you unwrap the present, and as you remove the lid of the box and your eyes are met with a necklace, your breath hitches in your throat.
the heart-shaped pendant is familiar – it's the exact necklace you'd eyed in the christmas market. you look up at oscar, a myriad of emotions playing on your face. "i didn't forget my phone," he admits, a hint of vulnerability in his gaze. "i just really wanted to get it for you."
speechless, you delicately trace the edges of the pendant with your fingers. "oscar, i..."
"it's a christmas gift, but you can wear it whenever you want."
you hold the necklace up to him. "like now?"
he nods and takes it from you as you turn around, brushing away your hair so that he can secure the chain around your neck. when you turn back, you catch the glint of admiration in his eyes. "you look beautiful."
you hold the pendant between your thumb and pointer finger, a silent acknowledgment of the connection formed by the gift. "it's perfect, oscar. thank you." you tilt your head, smiling at him. "you're not getting your gift until tomorrow, though."
"just seeing you with this necklace is enough of a present for me. i don't need anything else."
‎‎ ‎‎‎
december 25th, 6:04pm
christmas day morning is for gift exchanges. you all sit around the tree in the living room, giving out presents and sharing the background stories behind the silly little things you've bought each other. you receive a ton of random objects that people had bought that day in the christmas market; objects they bought just to irritate you and oscar. now that you know, you find it quite funny – and seeing charles's confused face as you unwrapped a green screwdriver from lando is definitely one of your highlights of the day.
your present to oscar is, obviously, better planned than most other gifts. beneath the wrapper is a box titled "skiing survival kit" written in big, red letters. in it lies a pair of thick socks (with a note reading "to protect your feet from those horrible boots"), a bag of hot chocolate mix ("for moments when skiing feels too challenging; a little warmth to make everything better"), a bottle of peppermint-scented massaging oil ("you never know when you find yourself in need of a massage..."), and a handwritten letter about how you enjoyed your stay in the cottage much more than the actual skiing and a promise to stay in and warm his chair for him next time he's out "skiing".
then, midday rolls around. the chefs of the group, also known as the few people who don't burn everything they attempt to cook, take their time to make a good dinner. in the meantime, the rest of you prepare some games and competitions, including a trivia, a snow fort building competition, and a gingerbread house-decorating contest that ended in lando letting his competitiveness get the best of him. safe to say that no other gingerbread houses were still standing, other than lando's, meaning the brit won by default. his price: getting thrown in the snow in just his pyjamas.
and the evening? it's dedicated to a movie marathon, as per russell family traditions.
it has all been planned into the finest detail; the couch in the living room is decorated with blankets and pillows, nearly every bowl in the house is filled to the brim with snacks, and mattresses and pillows on the floor for those who don't fit on the couch. everyone was included of the vote of what movie you were going to see, though you had a feeling george had cheated when you were told the 'home alone' series won. especially since it's the one series he hasn't been able to stop talking about wanting to watch all trip.
you're settled on the edge of the couch, a blanket wrapped over your shoulders and your knees pulled up to your chest. you're laughing along with something kika has said from right next to you when you hear a beep from the kitchen, indicating that the last bag of popcorn was ready. you assumed lando would be getting up to fetch it, seeing as he was the one who insisted you needed one more bag, but when your eyes find him, he sits very contently and comfortably a few seats away. he looks back at you, eyebrows rising as you make eye contact.
"hey, you're the closest to the kitchen," he says, nodding his head in your direction. "go get them."
he isn't wrong, but he still makes no sense. "no way, norris."
he pouts. "please, be quick so we can start the movie already."
"you suck."
he sticks out his tongue at you but you've already walked off. when you return, a new bowl filled with popcorn in your arms, you aren't exactly surprised to see lando in the seat that used to be yours. you shoot him a glare, to which he answers, "i could barely see the tv from where i was sitting!"
"oh, but you think i'll be able to?" you scoff at the way he shrugs his shoulders, seemingly to say that it's now none of his business. and when you look at his old seat, you are even less surprised to see who's sitting right next to it.
oscar is looking up at you, confusion mixing into his features. he's been scrolling on his phone for the last few minutes and didn't notice when his teammate left him alone.
neither of you complain when you slip into lando's old spot, though. oscar immediately grabs the blanket in his lap and drapes it over you too. you shuffle closer to him as the movie turns on, the soft fabric of his pyjama pants brushing against yours. the bowl of popcorn is propped up on your lap, and when you reach into it to grab a handful, it touches something warm. you rip your eyes from the tv to see your hand brushing against oscar's. of course.
considering the other touches and kisses you've shared these last few days, it's not even a very intimate action. and yet, something about it leaves both of you giggling.
"so many clichés this trip, huh?" he says, eyes flickering between your hands and your face.
instead of answering, you grab his hand in yours. your fingers slip in between his easily, as they've done so many times these last few days, but you pull your hands underneath the blanket to keep them out of sight from everyone else.
it's a good movie, but it's easy for you to zone out when you feel oscar's hand squeeze yours. neither of you can really stay away from the other, inching closer as the movie progresses and stealing little cheek kisses when everyone is focused on the most exciting scenes. and when you start to grow a little tired, your head instinctively lands on his shoulder as you let out a little yawn. oscar desperately has to hold himself back from cooing at you, feeling so soft and prideful that you're leaning on him, and he settles for leaning his own head on you.
you both think you're being subtle, but everyone in the room understands what's going on. even charles, who has now been let in on what's happened between you and oscar after he walked in on lando telling alex about how cute the new couple in the house looked walking around the lake, can't take his eyes off the two of you. as your older brother, he feels like he should be doing something or saying something to protect you. he wonders what his role should be here – aren't brothers supposed to scare their sisters' boyfriends away?
but charles realizes that oscar isn't an enemy. in this moment, you look so peaceful, so content; like you've found the the long-lost puzzle piece to make you complete. how could he possibly interrupt that?
‎‎ ‎‎
december 25th, 11:28pm
charles is still fast asleep on the couch when you slip into oscar's room after the movie has ended, fingers intertwined and your laughter mixing as he pulls you along to his bed. his hands find your hips as he sits down on the edge of the bed, urging you to lower yourself onto his lap, and you happily oblige.
"look up," he says, and when you do, you're not surprised by what's hanging in the roof.
the mistletoe.
"oh," you start, looking back at him. last time you found yourself underneath the mistletoe with oscar, you had been more nervous than ever before. but this time, it isn't as scary. this time, you're able to shrug, a teasing grin forming on your lips. "i guess we should kiss, then. just for the christmas spirit, you know."
his lips are curved into a big smile. "oh, i do know." one of his hands comes up to tuck some hair behind your ear, cupping your cheek in his palm. "it's because you love christmas."
you can't hold back from giggling, and neither can he, both of you leaning in to seal your lips. your first encounter underneath the mistletoe was hesitant, but it feels like that was ages ago, in another lifetime. now, with his lips pressing against yours, it feels like it's all you've known.
he's so gentle with it, his kisses delicate and tender, and your heart flutters at the feeling. his hands land on your waist as your arms wrap around his neck, scooting in even closer. when your crotch brushes against him, he involuntarily lets out a moan into your mouth, and you stop for a moment to pull away. both your eyes and his are wide as you look at each other, and oscar doesn't know what to say. his mind is racing, not sure if you thought that was awkward or too soon or-
"that's so fucking hot," you say, and he finally exhales. you kiss him again, speaking against his lips. "wanna hear more."
he has no problems letting out more sounds when you keep up your actions, your hips rolling down on him rhythmically. his hands find the hem of your sweater and slip inside, instantly roaming your sides. his cold touch tickles, and when his fingers move along your waist, you can't help but giggle against his lips. he laughs along with you, but he only does it to match you. he's dumbfounded when you part from him and you grab his wrists to make him halt.
"you're too cold," you start, a bit breathless already. "it's-"
"are you really that ticklish?" he chuckles, fingers running up and down your sides again to test you, and his heart melts when you throw your head back, laughing. "oh come on, how am i supposed to do this if i can't touch you?"
"warm your fingers next time and we should be fine."
"next time, huh?" a combination of a smirk and a grin plays on his lips. "planning ahead?"
"well, it depends on how well you perform tonight." he sticks out his tongue at your taunting tone. "just take it off already, will you?"
oscar happily obliges, pulling the material off you before reaching for his own sweater, throwing them both onto the floor. his eyes stick to your chest, to the soft, red bed bra holding up your breasts, and he feels himself growing harder instantly, because this is so much better than he'd imagined. you can't exactly complain about what your eyes are met with, either; oscar's toned chest and his broad shoulders are basically calling out for you to come and press your lips to them. or sink your teeth in them. probably both.
he gives you a few quick kisses before his hands land on your hips and he flips you both around, laying you onto the covers. his lips meet the skin below your ear, and then travel down the side of your neck. he hears your breath hitch in your throat when he finds a spot you enjoy particularly much, making sure to memorize it for the future. and when his kisses trail even further down, they meet something hard and metallic. when he leans back, he realizes that you're wearing the necklace.
he didn't notice it until now, since he was too busy being mesmerized by your breasts earlier; but now, he can't take his eyes off it. the little heart charm rests just above your actual heart, and something about seeing it makes his heart flutter. the necklace he bought for you, the one that makes you think of him and only him. it's like you're already tagged as his.
"cute," he whispers to himself, placing a long kiss right on top of the heart. he can feel your real heart beating underneath his lips, fast but not really enough, and he can't wait to make you feel like it's pounding out of your chest.
he starts placing open-mouthed kisses down your stomach, his hands finding the waistband of your sweatpants.
"you okay with me taking these off?" he asks, parting from your skin to watch you nod your head. he pulls the material down your body, smiling when your underwear comes into sight. they're not a pair of lacy lingerie or victoria's secret-lookalikes, but just a regular pair of panties in a deep green color with little candy canes. his eyes flicker between your bra and your panties. "green and red, huh?"
"well, what can i say?" you smile. "i love christmas." he giggles, and so do you, as he leaves your pants somewhere on the floor before moving further down your body. when his hands near the fuzzy socks with little cartoon santas dressing your feet, you're quick to speak. "those stay on, though."
"oh, is that so?"
"gotta make sure you're not just doing this for that foot fetish you might or might not have." a laughter erupts from his chest. "i've had too much of that recently."
"well, i don't have one, so i don't mind you keeping them on." he moves up on the bed again, fingers reaching the hem of your underwear. "but i can take these off, right?"
"things would get kinda tricky otherwise, i'd say,” you tease, but oscar merely blinks up at you with raised eyebrows.
"tricky, yes. but not impossible."
you shake your head, a grin making its way onto your lips. "next time, oscar."
and there it is again. next time. the way you say it so casually, like there's no doubt in your mind that there will be another time, that you'll do all of this again.
yet again, instant boner.
your panties are off in a second, and he doesn't waste any time before pressing his lips to the inside of your thigh. his hand takes care of your other thigh, thumb brushing up and down your skin, as your lips travel closer and closer to where you want him the most.
you suck in a breath when you feel his warm breath against your core. his tongue meets your clit and your eyes flutter closed, one of your hands reaching down to entangle in his hair. as his tongue draws circles around your bud, one of his hands leaves your thigh, a finger swiping along your wet folds before pushing slowly into you. you don't know which sensation to focus on, both growing stronger and pushing you closer to your limit every passing second. when he's pumped you a couple of times, he adds another finger and then another, pushing deep into you. his fingers curling inside of you makes you pull on his hair even harder, your mind growing hazy and your breaths shorter.
"o-oscar," you let out, subconsciously buckling your hips towards him in hopes of creating more friction. "i'm so clos-"
you're cut off by the combination of a moan and a whine that leaves your lips when his tongue flicking your clit speeds up. "come for me, sweetheart," he tells you, his voice sending vibrations against your core.
your legs shake around him as you completely let go, feeling the climax wash over you just moments after his order. your free arm drapes over your face, covering your eyes in your arm as you try to catch your breath. oscar continues lapping you up, helping you ride it out, also licking his fingers clean before letting his hands caress your sides soothingly. he's unsure whether his fingers are warm enough now to not tickle you, or if you're just too busy coming down from your high to even realize you should feel ticklish, but he smiles at the thought nonetheless.
"everything alright up here?" oscar asks as he moves up to your face again, one of his hands prying the arm off your face. you slowly open your eyes, your hazy gaze meeting his loving one and you can't help but to cup his face in your hands. you pull him down to your lips, lazily lacing them together. he pulls away just enough for his lips to still brush yours when he speaks. "i'll take that as a yes."
you're quick to nod, but even quicker to connect his lips with yours again, not wanting to be apart for even a second.
your hands slide down his neck and the front of his body, loving the feeling of his strong muscles under your touch. your fingers reach down to the edge of his pajama pants, and you let out a chuckle when you notice the ever-growing tent in them. "don't laugh at me," he starts, biting down on your bottom lip as a warning. "you're so hot, how could i not get this hard?"
"oh, shut it," you say, feeling a blush creep onto your cheeks. "just take them off, will you?"
"as you wish."
as he shuffles off the bed and pulls off his own pants, plus his boxers along with them, you take the time to reach behind you and unclasp your bra, letting it slide down your arms and off the bed. when he reaches into the bedside table and pulls out a condom, you raise your eyebrows. "oh, so you were planning this?"
he shakes his head as he climbs on top of you again. "i was hoping, not expecting. those are two very different things." he removes the wrapper and throws it onto the table, rolling the condom onto himself. "do you need anything? or-"
"just you."
oscar presses his smile to yours, kissing you like he has no rush in the world, like he just wants to savor this moment with you. "well then," he says against your lips, nudging his dick against your entrance. "i have to give the lady what she wants, don't i?"
you can't control the whine that slips into his mouth when he pushes into you. you thought you were ready for him, but he's so big and he stretches you out so perfectly. he pauses once he's slipped entirely into you, his lips finding a spot below your ear as he allows you to get used to him. your pussy is throbbing already, still sensitive from just minutes ago, and the little involuntary clenches around him make oscar grow more and more eager.
when he finally starts moving, you drape your arms around his shoulders for stability. his thrusts are slow but deep, and yet you desperately want more of him. you hook a leg over his hip, the other following soon after, and you gasp at the way he bottoms you out completely. one of his hands comes up to squeeze your breast, thumb flicking over the nipple as his pace speeds up. the sounds you make and the way your legs squeeze him close makes him feel like he could cum anytime, but he tries to hold back because he needs to see you fall apart beneath him for the second time tonight.
"oscar..." you cry out when his free hand slides down your body, a finger coming in contact with your clit again.
"just a little more, love." his thrusts have grown sloppy and his figures on your bud aren't exactly perfect, but it's good enough for your orgasm to hit.
your back arches off the bed, your chest pressing into his as you nuzzle your face into the side of his neck to hide your moans. when your walls tighten around him, he reaches his high too, his body shaking as he rides it out. your heart is about ready to jump out of your chest when he collapses onto you, both of you trying to catch your breaths. "holy fuck," oscar starts, his breath warm on your skin. "that was amazing. you feel amazing." you try to gather energy to speak, fingers getting lost in his curls. "you taste amazing, too. better than any christmas dinner."
you give him a weak slap to his shoulder. "shush."
"it's true!" he pushes himself back a bit, mouth hanging in mock offense. "this was the best present i could've ever wished for."
"the necklace is higher on my list, though."
oscar pauses for a moment. "i'm not sure if i should feel proud or offended."
you snicker. "i was hoping for the latter," you tease, but regret it the moment oscar's hands find your waist, fingers dancing along it and tickling you yet again. the squeal you let out does nothing to halt his actions, and he doesn't even budge when you try to push him away by his shoulders. "i was kidding!"
"apologize. now."
his fingers still working their way on your skin make it almost impossible for you to speak again, but you do your best to take a deep breath. "i'm- i'm sorry! oscar- stop it!"
he finally stops, and you finally get to breathe. "i'll go get a wet towel," oscar says, pulling away from you and giving you one last glance. he almost doesn't leave the bed when he looks at you, though – he finds the sight almost too good to be true. your rosy cheeks, the dreamy smile on your lips, your hair spread out on the pillows. he's scared that if he leaves you, maybe the spell will be broken and he'll realize all of this has just been a dream. because that's just how this all feels: surreal.
but it is real, and he can't wait to have you like this in his bed again.
‎‎ ‎‎
december 26th, 12:56pm
packing up after a good trip is always a bittersweet affair. realizing that you have the real world waiting for you, your actual lives with responsibilities and obligations, and that you can't just stay in this fairytale forever – this moment was definitely not something you looked forward to.
you and charles need to get back to monaco to celebrate christmas with your other brothers and your mother, before he needs to go away for pre-season work again. you're meticulously folding up your clothes, zipping up bags and exchanging smiles as you reminisce on memories of the week.
but, things are different this time. you know that the magic of this trip isn't going to stay here – in one way or another, you'll bring some of it with you back to your real life.
oscar.
you've already made plans to meet up after new years, and even when he's busy with work, you know that you'll at least see him during every race weekend. neither of you are ever more than a flight, or a call, away, and you just can't wait to see where this all takes you.
"so... oscar, huh?" charles's voice breaks the silence, his eyes glancing in the direction of your open door that lets in the sound of oscar's voice from the living room.
"hm? what about him?" you reply, trying to hold back the smile threatening to adorn your lips when you hear his name.
charles cocks an eyebrow at you. "you and him... kind of obvious." he gazes towards your bed. "besides, your bed is made. you didn't sleep here last night."
"well, i-" you start, but charles interrupts with a knowing chuckle.
"relax, i'm not going to be a police. just..." he shows off a sweet smile. "enjoy it."
with a nod and a shared understanding, you both continue packing, an unspoken acknowledgment hanging in the air. the group gathers to bid you farewell by the front door, and gratitude fills your heart as you exchange goodbyes with your friends. you grow especially soft when lando pulls you into a hug, a cheeky grin on his lips. "thank you," you whisper, giving his cheek a quick peck to really convey how much you appreciate everything he's done this holiday. he just squeezes you back, telling you not to worry about it.
finally, as you turn to say your farewell to oscar, the atmosphere shifts and the group watches with amused anticipation. "until next time," you say, your eyes holding a promise that transcends the physical distance.
"until next time," he repeats, smiling as you engulf him in a tight hug.
you pull away just enough for your ear to brush against his ear, your voice low. "charles knows, by the way."
"w-what?" his eyes widen for a moment, flickering between you and your brother – but then realization dawns. "well, in that case..."
before you can react, oscar pulls you closer again. he presses a goodbye-kiss on your lips, right there in front of everyone, and the group erupts into cheers.
and the loudest of them all? lando, of course. "if i'm not the best man at your wedding, i'll never forgive you guys."
1K notes · View notes
wonwoonlight · 7 months
Text
just one day / yoon jeonghan
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⇢ Jeonghan x fem!Reader
⇢ word count: 4.5k
⇢ fluff // angst // nonidol!au // brother's best friend // fake dating!au // they're idiots lmao // not edited nor proofread so pls bear w me lol // cursing and. two? kissing scenes.
⇢ A/N: this has been sitting unfinished in my google drive since... either last year or the beginning of this year lmao. i have always wanted to write brother's best friend and i had this sudden urge to finish it earlier so i did. been some time since i posted a proper fic so, enjoy~
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He must be dreaming.
He must be.
“What?” Jeonghan says just for the sake of saying it.
“I like you.”
“No, you don’t.”
You blink at his firm voice, wondering what kind of situation this is. Sure, you shouldn’t be confessing to your brother’s best friend, but you feel like you’ve been obvious enough and you don’t see why you shouldn’t confess when it’s been eating you inside out.
And, yeah, you didn’t expect him to do anything about your confession (or even say that he likes you back), but you didn’t expect this either.
“What do you mean I don’t?” you frown, looking at him accusingly. “I like you.”
“You don’t, kid.” He sighs, already feeling a headache coming. He’s not stupid, alright, he has enough sense to gather that his best friend’s little sister probably has something on him–a crush, perhaps, but he’s never thought it was real enough for you to feel the need to confess.
It doesn’t help that he is attracted to you, has always been since you’ve gone back from Sydney after finishing university a year ago. He admits he’s always thought you’re attractive, and if he’s being honest, he would’ve asked you out first if not for the fact that you’re literally Joshua Hong’s little sister.
As if it’s not enough that not dating his best friend’s little sister has always been a code he follows, Shua has always been a little too protective as a brother. He’s seen firsthand how the guy scared off some who had the guts to flirt with you, seen how for two decades only two guys had ever been declared good enough to date you (he couldn’t do anything about the flings you had when you were abroad, but at least you’ve always been appreciative of his protectiveness and you never missed to inform him of some guys who were actually trying to get it on with you).
Long story short, Jeonghan does not wish to be on the receiving end of Shua’s scrutinizing eyes regardless of how much he’s actually into you.
“Look, you know me,” he starts when he realizes you’re not backing down. He looks away, pretending to be frustrated, though it’s really just because he thinks he’ll relent if he looks into your eyes a second longer. “I’m not gonna make a good boyfriend and I’m literally your brother’s best friend.”
You don’t seem to care about the first part of his sentence, irked by the fact that him being best friend with Shua would be an obstacle in your way. Shouldn’t it be easier for him to get a seal of approval if he’s already close with your brother? But, then again, Shua probably knows Jeonghan inside out and knowing too much is never a good thing.
“So what?” you say anyway, because if there’s any word that would describe you perfectly, it’s ‘stubborn’. “Why does it matter that you’re his best friend?”
Jeonghan sends you a look, and you pout because you actually get what he means. You know Shua, after all, and as much as you want to condition yourself to believe that Jeonghan would be the person Shua approves of with all his heart, you also know that even if your brother actually approves, he would put him through hell just for the fun of it.
Anyway, this doesn’t tell you at all where Jeonghan actually stands about you.
“So, you don’t like me?” you shoot straight to it, as if Jeonghan wouldn’t be able to hear your heart beating like there’s no tomorrow if he takes even one step closer–as if your ears aren’t hot from saying it out loud. Jeonghan does not need to know how flustered you actually are.
And it works, because he seems to be taken aback by your boldness and you try your best to hide a victory grin at that. You should probably be more grateful that he can’t stand to look at you for more than three seconds; if he had, he would’ve seen the tip of your ears turning red and the speck of blush on your face, which means he could’ve easily taken control of the situation and turned it against you.
His silence encourages you, because if he really doesn’t like you then he would tell you so. As much as Jeonghan is a master of tricks and he’s great at acting, he’s never been good at hiding his feelings.
Jeonghan bites his lip, trying to get a way out of this. Why can’t he just say no and be done with it? Sure, he’s not in love with you or anything (yet?), but it’s a straight out lie to say he’s never seen you that way.
After all, there’s a reason why he’s been avoiding you the past few months. 
You just have to be more daring these days, and as much as he wills himself to behave, there are times when he’s already flirting with you before he knows it. He’s just lucky Shua has never caught you two.
Plus, you’ve taken a liking to wearing a crop top and it’s the absolute death of him.
“Tell you what,” you say before he does. “Date me.”
Jeonghan chokes on nothing, violently coughs that his shoulders are shaking and you actually need to pat his back so he’ll calm down.
“Are you okay?” You ask worriedly, and he’s terribly conscious of your hand on his shoulder and the other on his arm, of the way your brows furrow in concern, of the way your lips are a little ajar and if he moves forward just a little–
“Yeah.” He shakes his head despite the word, then clears his throat and squares his shoulders before he looks the other way around. He doesn’t step away though, and it’s so fucking stupid that he frowns when you do. “Sorry. You were saying?”
“Date me.” You repeat anyway, though you know this is Jeonghan’s way of  giving you an out in case you want to pretend like you didn’t just say that earlier. He opens his mouth, and you can hear what he’s going to say even if he hasn’t said anything so you cut him yet again. “Just for one day.”
“Kid–”
“Stop,” you say firmly, something akin to determination flashes through your eyes that he’s actually taken aback. “Stop calling me that.”
He sighs out your name, but you’re not hearing it because if you back down now you know you won’t have it in you to say this out loud again. You’re fueled by nothing but impulse and you’re not going to let Yoon Jeonghan himself slow you down.
“Han, I see the way you look at me–you’ve gone past seeing me as a kid since I came back from Sydney and it’s been a year since then. I’m not stupid.”
It’s hard to describe the way he looks at you, and he’s not blaming you because he is confused. The mixed feelings bursting in his chest is much too complicated for him to explain. Let alone through words, even his consciousness does not know how to register what he’s feeling.
Your face falls at his silence, and whatever courage that drives you up to this point is starting to ebb little by little. You’re so goddamn stupid–did you really think confessing to him would lift the weight off your shoulders? What made you think Jeonghan would be able to treat you as usual after you confessed?
Didn’t you confess only because it’s heaving you down? Because you thought you’d regret it if you stayed silent?
Then what is this weight on your chest? 
What is this disappointment looming all over your body?
Why the fuck are your eyes pricking with tears?
Still, you stand your ground and square yourself up in front of him. You’ve gone this far. If you’re going to be embarrassing, might as well do it for a reason. 
“Okay,” he breaks his silence, his tone defeated for whatever reason. It’s not discouraging though, more like unsure and maybe a little hopeful, and when you look up, he’s biting his lip in contemplation. “Just one day, right?”
“But you have to actually treat me like I’m your girlfriend.” You push, heart beating both in excitement and fear. Because what if he backs out of nowhere? He’s not that kind of person, but this situation is nothing sort of normal and his consciousness just might get to him if you don’t push him already.
Jeonghan bites his lip, looking at you like you’re a bad idea that he’s caving into. And he’s starting to think that it’s true. But if he’s being honest, he’s not against this at all. He also wants to know how it’d feel like to hold your hands and just listen to you talk without thinking about Shua and whatever that will follow if he ever finds out.
Frankly, one day wouldn’t be enough, but that’s better than nothing, right? And he would never have the guts to propose it himself, he admits, so this is a chance that he knows he wouldn’t get his hands on ever again.
He sighs, praying to every god up there that this won’t backfire on him.
“Okay,” he whispers, more to himself than to you, and then repeats it once again, this time firmer, looking at you straight in the eyes. “Shua’s going on a business trip next week, right?”
You nod.
“I’ll see you next Saturday?”
You bite down your lip so hard that you taste blood to stop yourself from smiling like an idiot.
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Tuesday, 26 July
[14:32] Yoon Jeonghan😠: beach or amusement park
[14:50] ?????
[14:50] its not a surprise?
[14:54] Yoon Jeonghan😠: just pick one, kid
[14:55] 🙄 beach ig
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Thursday, 28 July
[01:11] Yoon Jeonghan😠: festival or night market
[01:12] ?????? sir?? go to sleep??
[01:12] didnt you choose a place alrd???
[01:12] but night market
[01:13] Yoon Jeonghan😠: you go to sleep
Yoon Jeonghan😠 is typing…
Yoon Jeonghan😠 is typing…
[01:17] Yoon Jeonghan😠: good night, kid
[01:18] nightttttt
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Friday, 29 July
[22:20] Yoon Jeonghan😠: wear something light tomorrow, but bring a jacket just in case it gets cold at night
Saturday, 30 July
[00:03] k, boyfriend 😌
[00:03] sorry, i was on the phone with chaeyoung earlier
[00:07] Yoon Jeonghan😠: i really cant with you
[00:07] Yoon Jeonghan😠: and chaeyoung as in vernon’s cousin? your friend from high school?
[00:07] Yoon Jeonghan😠: you still talk to her?
[00:08] yes!! surprised that u rmb her :0
[00:08] and i actually just met her by accident earlier today and we decided to catch up thru the phone bc i had to go somewhere
[00:09] apparently, she’s dating choi seungcheol or smth 👀
Incoming call from Yoon Jeonghan😠 - 00:11
Call ended - 02:27
[02:27] Yoon Jeonghan😠: you fell asleep. night, babe 🤪 see you
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You bite your lip in giddiness as you keep on rereading Jeonghan’s text, like you’re not giddy enough already at the prospect of today.
You fell asleep last night while on the phone with Jeonghan, but whatever curse you were about to dump into yourself for falling asleep during what might be your only chance to be on the phone with Jeonghan during ungodly hours was immediately wiped out when you saw his text.
Yes, you’d flirt with each other from time to time–but never through texts, and the prospect of having a message from him that you can read over and over again some time in the future is both delightful and… sad.
The sudden tug on your heart and consciousness is a little heavy, a reminder that he’s doing that because you asked him to. That whatever’s happening in the span of today is an illusion, one that Jeonghan agrees on creating.
Why, you don’t want to dwell on it too much.
That should be your motto for the day: fuck it.
So what if it was an illusion? Jeonghan agreed and you’re going to make the best out of it. If you’re never going to be Jeonghan’s girlfriend, might as well be shameless and live your teenage (and adult, if you’re being honest) dream and be his girlfriend for the day now so you can stamp it in your memory. You only have today and you’re not going to spend any second thinking about the technicality of it.
As far as you know, Jeonghan is your boyfriend and he’s taking you out for the day.
You jump when your phone pings, the notification on your lockscreen rids you of whatever negativity that was in your mind literally seconds ago as you grin and make your way out of your apartment.
[09:17] Yoon Jeonghan😠: am in the lobby. get ur pretty self here, angel.
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For all you know, the world is plenty unfair. But seeing Jeonghan looking like that with a simple white tee and a faded pair of jeans reminds you just how unfair the world actually is. Like it’s not unfair enough already because he’s not your actual boyfriend.
“Come on, let me take a picture of you,” he says as he softly takes your hand, pulling you up from the mat. “The wind isn’t too strong and you’re looking particularly pretty today.”
You scrunch your nose as you mock annoyance, a failed attempt to mask your blush. Hopefully, Jeonghan would think you’re simply flushed because of the sun and not because of him.
“I don’t like taking pictures.”
“How dare you lie to me.” Jeonghan says without missing a beat. “I know you make Shua take a ton shit pictures of you when you’re out somewhere.”
You pout at this, and as much as you know Jeonghan doesn’t mean anything by it, the mention of your brother isn’t exactly welcome today because his name just reminds you that this isn’t real and he’s a big part of the reason why.
“Can you not talk about my brother?” You say softly, which Jeonghan easily catches even if he’s not sure you mean for him to hear or not. The sadness in your voice is genuine though, and he makes a mental note to stop mentioning Joshua for the rest of the day. He’s starting to question once again if this is the right thing to do even for a day–after all, Joshua is his best friend, and this particular conversation is the exact reason why he’s not supposed to do this.
But he’s promised you he’ll treat you like his girlfriend–perhaps another personal agenda of his because he does want to experience being able to be your boyfriend even for a day. He should’ve thought more before okay-ing your proposal instead of thinking about it right now when you’re in front of him, in a simple white shirt and a black skirt that stops just below the middle of your thigh but somehow still the prettiest he’s ever seen. 
He wonders if this is how you usually dress up for your dates, and something bitter makes it to the tip of his tongue as he thinks about someone else taking you on a date. 
“Sorry. Come on, let’s take a picture together.” His fingers wrap around your wrist to pull you closer before eventually linking them with yours. “You’re very pretty today, have I told you?”
“You have.” You scrunch your nose and pretend to roll your eyes at the sudden sweetness he basks you in even though you’re liking every second of it. “Literally one minute ago.”
“Well, you really do look very beautiful and I want you to know.” He lowers his voice an octave and stares right into your eyes before he eventually bursts out laughing.
“Stop!” You giggle, knowing that he’s doing this on purpose to annoy you. “That’s too fucking cheesy and you know it.”
He laughs along with you, then tightens his fingers in yours like they’re not interlocked already.
“I mean it though.” He whispers one last time, not looking at you this time around because his heart might fucking burst to say it to your face without the faux of messing with you. “You do look beautiful.”
At least you share the sentiment, as you quietly duck your head to hide your smile, whispering a thanks that’s only meant for the two of you.
Jeonghan keeps his end of the bargain, you’re happy to know, as you don’t even think about your brother and the pretense that is your relationship for the rest of the day. You freely flirt with each other, cheeky smile and winks being thrown here and there. His hands never seem to leave you, and you gladly cling on to him even if you don’t need to.
You get ice cream, insist that you want the plain strawberry one only to eventually switch with Jeonghan’s cookies and creams because his looks better. He plays hard to get before giving in to you, but not before swiping ice cream from the side of your lips and licks his thumb like that shit isn’t going to give you a heart attack.
It’s around seven when you both get to the night market not too far from the beach, and you’re both even gigglier than earlier which you didn’t think was possible. Your cheeks hurt from smiling, but you’re the furthest thing from complaining as you continue at whatever dumb jokes Jeonghan throws your way.
The night market isn’t as crowded as you think it would be, but it still is crowded and Jeonghan makes a show of throwing his arm around your shoulder because he ‘doesn’t want to lose you’ and you seem a little cold (which you kinda are).
You elbow him at this, shake your head and pretend like you’re not internally dying from the closeness between the two of you.
“That’s so lame.” You snicker. “Just say you want me close and go.”
“I do want you close.” He whispers unexpectedly, catching you entirely off guard that you trip on your own foot you almost fall on your face. He doesn’t seem to realize you tripped because you’re flustered, which works good for you, and he flicks your forehead as he scolds you to be more careful and goes back to holding your hand.
“Seriously. How are you still so clumsy?”
You don’t like being reprimanded by Jeonghan, because it awfully reminds you that you’re younger than him–that you’re his best friend’s little sister. And as much as you know Jeonghan definitely does not see you as a sister, the implication that he has to see you as one because of the association is very disheartening. 
“Why are you frowning?” He copies the gesture, and you shake your head, telling him it’s nothing. The night is ending, and you don’t want to waste more time thinking about stuff that you can think of tomorrow when you’re not in a time limited relationship with Yoon Jeonghan. “No, tell me–”
“Jeonghan?”
The both of you turn at the call of his name, and your frown deepens as you see Jisoo in front of you, Jeonghan’s ex that he amicably broke up with. The one ex that has always made you feel like shit because she’s everything you’re not and they were such a picture perfect couple that you’re sure they’d go back together someday.
It does not feel good to see her today of all days.
“Oh, hi!” She kindly greets you, her smile way too genuine for you to think she’s just being polite and secretly hates you inside. Gosh. You need to stop watching too many TV dramas. “Joshua’s sister… right?”
There it is again. The reminder that you’re his sister–something you really don’t need to hear today.
“Hi.” You smile awkwardly, and only then remember your hand is still pretty much joined with Jeonghan’s. You don't know how to feel about the fact that his reflex is not to let go of your hand in front of his ex who obviously knows your brother. You try to let go of his hand, but Jeonghan holds on tighter, as if telling you it’s okay and there’s no need to worry about Jisoo.
They share a small chat for a bit before eventually parting, and Jisoo wishes you both a good night, which makes you hate yourself so much for being jealous of the girl when she doesn’t even have an ounce of bad energy towards you.
You try to enjoy the rest of the night, but Jisoo’s appearance just reminds you that this whole thing is pretty much fake. That someone out there is going to be in your place for real–able to hold his hand and just be with him all the time without having to wait for your brother to go on a business trip to even hang out with each other. Without some stupid request and guilt eating them inside out because they’re not supposed to do this.
Trying to be subtle, you put on an act of wanting to visit every stall in the festival and pretend to be tired after about thirty minutes or so. You’re surprised Jeonghan isn’t already tired to begin with, this guy has the battery of a five-years-old phone, you didn’t expect him to actually bring you around until night if you’re being completely honest.
Jeonghan complies when you tell him you’re ready to go home, and you don’t even realize he’s also being weirdly quiet because you’re too deep in your thoughts. And it’s once his car is parked on the parking lot of your apartment building that you finally open your mouth trying to say something–anything.
You want to thank him for today. To thank him for making a memory that you’ll dearly hold on to, for giving you a standard of what a boyfriend is supposed to be even for a day. For fulfilling your dumb request when he doesn’t even have to.
But what comes out of your mouth is something entirely different and you almost want to bash your head against the door of his car right after.
“Whoever’s going to be your girlfriend is very lucky.”
You can hear Jeonghan takes a sharp breath, and you bite your lip to stop yourself from crying because you’re just so fucking stupid like that.
You try to remind yourself that you asked for this. That Jeonghan is doing you a favour and owes you nothing. That you should be thankful you’ve even gotten the chance to play girlfriend with him when he could’ve just embarrassed you and walked away after your proposal.
The deafening silence inside the car is very loud, and you feel like you’re suffocated by things unseen that you just want to get out of the car and take a very deep breath. So you do just that: reach for the door of his car because you can’t take being so close to him anymore.
It’s your fault. You shouldn’t have asked for this. Shouldn’t have asked for a taste of heaven because surely you would want more and you’ll die of thirst right after. Now you’re just going to be awkward with him until god knows when and you’re regretting it already. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
You should’ve been satisfied with your close friendship with him, with loving him from afar. Now you’ve ruined things between you and him and who knows when things will get back to normal? He’ll fucking think of you as pathetic and it’s just going to be pity in his eyes everytime he looks at you now.
“Hey!” Jeonghan jumps in alert the moment you step out of his car, quickly follows through and catches you before you take another step away from him. “What–why are you in such a hurry?”
You look down to your shoes, because you can’t stomach looking at him right now just in case you’ll see what you fear will be reflected in his eyes.
“Hey… Look at me?” He tries once again, tone getting a little helpless. But you shake your head, because you’re sure you’ll start crying if you do and you want to preserve the little dignity you still have in front of him. But Jeonghan doesn’t stop there, he whispers a ‘please?’ and lifts your chin gently so you’ll look at him, his heart breaking when he sees how close you are to tears and his throat closing at how he’s the reason behind all this.
“Thank you.” You brave yourself. It’s the least you can do, because as much as you’re going to grovel for the next few months, you know that this particular memory with Jeonghan will always be dear to your heart and you’ll treasure it forever. “I’m sorry for taking your time and–”
“Ah, fuck it.” You hear him say before he dives into your lips, not minding the way you’re frozen in place out of shock. He hums against your lips, and it’s then that you finally kiss him back, your hands settle over his shoulders and your whole body relaxed under his touch.
When the both of you pull away, you’re a little out of breath and your thoughts all over the place. But there’s a small smile in Jeonghan’s face that gets you mirroring the gesture. He closes his eyes as he places his forehead on yours, and you follow suit, feeling the warmth of his breath on your face.
“It’s… okay for me to do that, right?” He asks, albeit a little too late. You still don’t know what the whole things mean, but you find yourself chuckling, because you honestly would let him do anything to you. But he doesn’t need to know the kind of power he has over you, so you simply nod and let him have his peace.
“Han?” You say after a while. “What does this mean for us?”
Jeonghan stares into your eyes, deep in his own thoughts as if he’s trying to rearrange his words so they don’t stumble out of his mouth like a trainwreck.
“Let’s see where this takes us?”
“But Shua…?”
He presses his lips together and wraps his arms around you, pushing you into his neck as he breathes in your scent.
“Whatever happens, happens.” He decides, already resigning that he can’t possibly let you go now that he knows how it feels like to have you like this. He’ll make your brother understand somehow, but right now, he wants to be with you and savors the little time he has with you before your brother comes back, not even minding the way his phone has been vibrating in his pocket.
[Joshua sent a picture.]
Joshua: heard from Jisoo you’re on a date w my sister??????????????????
Joshua: did you finally get out of your ass and stop being in denial lmaoooooooooooooo
Joshua: just pls be safe
Joshua: she’s still my sister
Joshua: !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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lipglossanon · 1 year
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They Were Roommates
୭̥⋆*。୭̥⋆*。୭̥⋆*。୭̥⋆*。୭̥⋆*。୭̥⋆*。୭̥⋆*。୭̥⋆*。୭̥⋆*。୭̥⋆*。୭̥⋆
Roommate!Leon S. Kennedy x fem!reader
For the anon who asked for roommate Leon! 💜 I hope I did it justice 😬 🫣 this is pretty much just smut not much lead up 🫣
Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, masturbation, voyeurism, dirty talk, unprotected sex, slight oral, cum swallowing, uhh I think that’s all lol
Not proofread (you know me 💁‍♀️ lmao)
Title pulled from a vine! It’s one of my faves lmao 🤣 ୭̥⋆*。୭̥⋆*。୭̥⋆*。୭̥⋆*。୭̥⋆*。୭̥⋆*。୭̥⋆*。୭̥⋆*。୭̥⋆*。୭̥⋆*。୭̥⋆
“What do you mean you didn’t put in the ad?”
You know your voice is pitching higher, but this couldn’t get any worse. The guy at least has the good grace to look apologetic. 
He rubs the back of his head, “Yeah, I guess my old roommate put that out but he ended up moving instead of me. He never told me he even made an ad, so I’m really sorry about that.”
Frustrated tears prick your eyes but you ignore them.
“So there’s no room to rent? This is literally my last resort before sleeping out in my car.”
He looks at your earnest face and the bags at your feet. You watch as his blue eyes dart back into the apartment and he frowns. 
“Well, do you have any references?” He finally sighs, “if you’ll give me their numbers, I’ll call them and if everything’s kosher I’ll let you rent the room.”
“Really?” Your smile lights up your whole face, “yes, I have some printed out. You’d really be doing me a favor.”
He blushes as you hand him the reference paper in question, looking down at it then back up at you, “I just don’t feel comfortable letting you go without somewhere to stay.”
“Thanks, that’s really nice of you,” you nod your head at the paper, “I’ll chill out here until you’re finished with that.”
“No,” he shakes his head, opening the door wider, “you can at least sit in the living room. I’ll make these calls and we can go from there.”
And that’s how your first meeting with Leon S. Kennedy, your current roommate, went.  So after months of living together, getting used to each other’s schedules and eating habits, you fall into a really nice and comfortable pattern. Leon is tidy and polite, but also kinda dorky and sweet. 
You find yourself excited to come home after a long, grueling day at the office. Leon works in law enforcement so sometimes he’s working opposite hours from yourself; this week, however, your schedules are synced and it’s Friday night which means movies and pizza. Even better is you got to leave work early, a rare occurrence that you won’t take for granted!
Opening the front door, you drop your keys back in your bag and sing out, “Honey, I’m home!”
You hear a muffled thud from the living room, making you pause in the entryway—door half shut behind you. 
“Leon?” you call out hesitantly. 
Hearing no answer, you quietly set your bag down and slowly inch your way further in the apartment. You peek around the wall into the living room and hold in a gasp. 
Leon is practically naked, the only thing covering his modesty is the flimsy boxers he has on—doing nothing to disguise the fact his dick’s hard. 
You notice a box of tissues tipped over in the floor along with lube which must be what caused the noise. Covering your mouth with your hand, you can’t pull your eyes away from the scene in front of you. 
Leon has his phone in hand, headphones connected, as he splays out lazily on the couch. His thighs are spread wide, taking up as much space as possible. You can see his other hand slide underneath the band of his underwear and jerk himself off in his boxers. 
“Fuck,” he whispers, eyes glued to his phone, hand picking up speed. 
He rests his head on the back of the couch for a moment then pulls his cock completely out of his boxers. You have to swallow down a whine as you see how big and thick Leon’s cock is, throbbing in his hand as he pulls the foreskin down to show off the fat, oozing tip. You rub your thighs together to ease the ache in your clit.
Leon groans low in his throat and slowly strokes his cock, teasing his fingertips across the head.  He fingers the slit, precum oozing out and coating his fingers making them sticky. He sets his phone on the couch so he can keep watching but use both hands on himself. 
He pants and keeps slowly teasing himself with slow, light touches using one hand on his cock as the other gently rolls and tugs his balls. Your mouth waters at the thought of walking the rest of the way into the room and getting on your knees in front of him. As you watch Leon, slick drips from your pussy and fills your panties, making them wet and clingy. 
Leon tosses his head back with a low moan. He humps up into his hand as he fucks his fist in short steady strokes. Pausing, he reaches down for the lube and coats his hand in the clear, shiny liquid. He brings his coated palm back to his dick and moans as he jerks himself off more easily. 
“So wet,” he whispers to himself, “being so good for me, huh.”
You feel shameful arousal curling in your belly as you watch Leon in a private, intimate, moment; but you can’t help ask why he’d do this in the living room? You know you’re home early, but—
Wait, your eyes widen as your brain whirs with thoughts— is this even the first time? You bite your lip to stop yourself from whining. God, how many times has Leon jerked off in the living room while you weren’t here? Or even when you were??
“So good,” Leon’s voice rumbles, “suck that cock, baby, fuck.”
His hips slowly thrust up as his hand tightens around the thick shaft, “You’ve got such a pretty fucking mouth, sweetheart.”
Those words make you dizzy with arousal, a hot surge flooding your body so quickly it feels like you’re going to pass out. You rub your thighs together and can feel yourself starting to leak through your panties. 
Leon starts to fist his cock more roughly, precum and lube oozing over his knuckles. 
He groans, voice gravelly, “Can barely fit me in your mouth, baby.”
He bucks his hips up hard, “God, can even see how far you get cause of that ring of lipstick around my cock.”
You bite into the meat of your palm to curb any sounds, not wanting to get caught. You swallow thickly at the thought of getting caught while watching Leon get off. Maybe he’d want to see how far your mouth would fit around him. Leave your own sheen of strawberry lipgloss around his fat length. You rub your thighs together again, feeling more turned on than ever before in your life.  
Leon groans, pulling your attention back to him away from your own thoughts. One of his hands is still tugging his heavy looking balls while the other keeps a tight tunnel formed around his cock. 
You really want to touch yourself, but it’s hotter to just watch Leon. You can always get off later, remembering this moment.
Your wide eyes continue to watch as the leaky tip of Leon’s dick peeks out of his fist on every stroke—teasing you with the promise of hot cum on your tongue if you only dared enough to go in there for a taste. 
He quickly jerks himself harder, sounds of shlick shlick shlick filling the air. Leon starts humping up into his slick fist, growling in satisfaction as he rolls his hips just right.
“Fuck, you take it so well, baby. A tight little throat just for me.”
Your nipples tighten under your bra, clit throbbing with need. You’re so wet, you can feel it leaking down your thighs now. Torn between wanting to leave to touch yourself or watch Leon finish, you ultimately want to see him come undone. 
“Gonna cum all over that cute face, sweetheart,” Leon moans out, thrusting his hips harder as his hand strokes faster. 
Leon’s head lolls back on the couch, eyes closed as he strokes himself faster to completion.
“Yes, fuck,” he groans, low and deep, as ropes of cum spurt across his abs and chest, coating himself in white sticky strands. 
Your pussy flutters, aching and throbbing— needing something in your wet hole. Eyes darting up to his blissed out expression, his own eyes thankfully closed, you quietly tiptoe backwards to the front door. 
You pick your bag up off of the floor and pull the half open door completely open and walk out. You softly shut the door and lean back against it, blowing out a harsh breath.
You really don’t know how you’re going to react when you look Leon in the face, but I guess that’s just something you’ll wing when you get to it. 
Giving yourself several minutes to calm down, you finally re enter the apartment acting like it’s the first time. 
“Heey I’m home!” You yell, a little louder than usual, but you really hope Leon hears you this time. 
“Oh uh, hey,” you hear Leon call back, voice nervous, “you’re home early.”
“Yep!” you take more time than usual to close and lock the door behind you, dropping your bag in the floor near the coatrack. 
“Cool, I haven’t ordered the pizza if you wanna go ahead. I’m actually gonna grab a quick shower,” you can hear his voice get further away as he walks deeper into the apartment. 
You listen for the bathroom door to shut and once your hear it, you let out a relieved sigh. Opening up your phone, you just order the usual Friday night spiel and walk to your bedroom. 
Once inside, you close and lock the door. You shed your clothes like they’re on fire and quickly climb into your bed. This isn’t your usual way of doing things, but your brain is a little too fried to think outside of the image of Leon’s thick cock. 
You grab a pillow you only use as decoration and swing a leg over it as you kneel on top of it. Rocking your hips down, your clit grinds against the fabric and makes you whimper. Slick is steadily dripping from your needy hole as you hump your pillow, imagining Leon in its place. 
Using one hand to keep the pillow steady, your other hand comes up to tease and pinch at your nipples, shooting bolts of pleasure straight to your clit making you cry out softly. 
“Leon,” you whimper, rolling your nipples between your fingers. 
You rock against the pillow faster, already so close just from watching Leon earlier, dragging your wet sensitive clit over and over the coarse pillowcase. 
“God, ‘m gonna cum,” you whine out loud, eyelashes kissing your cheeks as your hips stutter and grind down, cumming so quickly it makes your thighs spasm. 
Slick covers your pillow as you shakily let your hips drop down to sit. Your clit pulses with aftershocks while you pant to catch your breath. 
“Fuck,” you whisper to yourself, flopping down onto your bed and pushing your used pillow into the floor. 
Your phone dings and you lazily grab it from your nightstand and look at the notification, reading that the pizza delivery is on its way. 
Pushing yourself up, you get out of bed and go to throw on some ratty pajamas when you pause. 
You pull out a sleeker, prettier matching pj set—a thin teasing top with matching  shorts. Deciding to try your luck, you put them on and give yourself a once over in the mirror. You fluff your hair and apply a quick layer of gloss on your lips, puckering them at the mirror before grinning at yourself. 
Spinning around, you make your way out of your room and into the shared living space hoping to, subtly, grab Leon’s attention as you hang out for the night. 
It works or at least maybe it does—it could be you’re looking too much into things; frowning to yourself, you shake your head and go back to relaxing on the couch. The pizza’s long since gone and now you’ve been chilling in the living room, watching b-rate horror flicks and chatting. You at least think Leon has been looking at you when you weren’t paying attention, but it’s hard to say when you’re not paying attention.  
You sigh out loud and cross your legs. 
“Something the matter?”
You start and turn to Leon with a sheepish smile, “Yeah just thinking.”
He squints his eyes at you, “Mmhmm.”
You laugh this time and kick out your foot to push his knee with your toes, “Fuck off, it’s nothing important.”
He grabs your foot and presses his thumb in the arch making you suck in a sharp breath. 
“You’ve been on your feet all day, haven’t you?” he asks, eyes looking down to his hands now rubbing your foot. 
You feel like melting into the couch cushions, a hot coil of want slowly unraveling in your belly. 
“Yeah,” you say quietly, “was a long day.”
His brow pinches as he looks back up to you, “Did you talk to your boss about—“
You groan and flop back into the couch arm, kicking your other foot up into Leon’s lap, “Yes, mom. I talked to him and he said until we can hire a replacement, that we’re all just gonna have to ‘do our best for the team’.”
You roll your eyes and grumble, “Like he even does anything more than clock in.”
Leon grabs your other foot and traces along the arch, “I can go talk to’em if you need me to.”
Your smile spreads across your face, “You really would, wouldn’t you? You’re so sweet, Leon.”
His blue eyes drag up from your legs and skimpy sleep shorts, across your body with the nearly sheer top, to look up into your face, “You need someone to take care of you from the sounds of it.”
You gasp out loud at that and Leon wraps his hands around your calves, yanking you down the couch til your ass lands in his lap. 
“Hoping I would notice your slutty little getup, honey?” his smoky voice murmurs in your ear, snapping the band of your shorts, “trying to show me what I’m missing out on, huh?”
Your head spins from the complete 180 Leon is pulling, but you feel a thrill run down your spine.
“Just wanted to feel pretty,” you say, feeling hot all over, hands plucking at the hem of his shirt. 
“So pretty, baby,” he affirms, hands running up your calves to your splayed thighs, thumbs softy grazing your skin. 
His hands slide from your thighs, up your hips to pet at your sides. 
“Heard you get off earlier too, honey,” he whispers hotly in your ear, “walls are thinner than you think.”
You lean back to look him in the eye, “B-but how? I thought you were in the shower.”
He grins at you, “I forgot something so I stepped out to grab it. Not like it’s the first time hearing you anyway.”
Embarrassment makes you squirm on his lap, ducking your head down, “I didn’t know.”
“Sure, baby,” he kisses your jaw, fingers dipping below the band of your shorts and panties, fingers finding your leaking hole and slowly sinking into your pussy. 
“Leon!” You cry out, spine arching until your chest is pressed against him. 
“How d’you think I don’t hear you?” He rumbles, making your nipples stiffen in your shirt, “stuffing your fingers in that needy fucking cunt night after night.”
You gasp, hips rocking down into his fingers, pussy clenching around the digits. 
“M sorry,” you hiccup, eyes watering, “I’ll do better.”
“Yeah you will,” he rubs his thumb across your swollen clit, “cause I’m gonna start giving this little pussy what she needs, whenever and wherever I want. Sound good?”
“Leon,” you whimper, hands grabbing at his forearms, tendons flexing as he keeps finger fucking you on the couch. 
“Seems like every night, I’m in my room stripping my cock raw from those hot breathy moans you make,” he murmurs in your ear, low and smoky, “wore my fleshlight out the first month you moved in, baby.”
Your eyes rolls back as slick leaks from your pussy all over his hand. 
“Like that huh,” he laughs, tongue dipping in your ear before he places a wet kiss on the shell, “s’true, never made such a mess til you moved in, always fucking into that fake pussy thinking of yours.”
You moan high in your throat, “Leon, please, want you so much.”
“Yeah? Y’sure? Don’t want me using my toy, want me in this needy cunt?”
“Yes, yes,” you grind your hips down harder, his fingers stretching your hole open, “want it so bad.”
You whine and tug at his wrist til he finally slides his fingers out of your drenched pussy.
“Gonna give it to you sweetheart,” he promises you, eyes heated and dark, “gonna fuck you open right here, and then I’m gonna bend you over that kitchen counter and eat your pretty pussy til you cry for me.”
“Leon!” You gasp wantonly, “in me please. Wanna feel you.”
He pulls out his hard cock, smacking the head against your clit, making your hips jump. 
“Sit on me, want you to ride me baby,” he grins, guiding his dick into your drippy hole but not pressing in any further. 
You whimper and rock your hips, easing down his thick cock inch by inch until you’re sitting flush against him. He’s so deep in your pussy, it feels like he’s in your throat. You moan as he grinds up into you, fingers pinching and tugging at your hard nipples. 
“Mmm just like that baby, feel so much better than that plastic pussy,” he groans, twisting your nipples until you’re whining, “god, love the sounds you make.”
Pulling his hands away, he slaps across your breasts making your back arch your chest towards him. 
“Leon,” you mewl, tears slipping from your eyes because of the sting.
“I know,” he soothes, slapping across your tits again, “feels good doesn’t it, baby?”
You dig your nails into his big biceps, bouncing down in his lap to stuff his cock repeatedly into your hole. 
He slaps across each hard nipple until they’re puffy and swollen. You moan and hump down on him harder, the pain bleeding into pleasure and making you even wetter. One hand dips between your bodies to softly rub across your clit; he drags his fingers lower to stroke your pussy lips, getting his fingertips wet and dragging them back up to circle around your swollen bud. 
“Greedy little thing aren’t ya, honey?” he laughs deep in his chest, “c’mon ride me a little harder, baby.”
He moves both of his hands down to grab the fat of your ass and fuck up harder into your clenching pussy. 
“Leon,” you moan, fingers digging into the tense muscles on his shoulders, “gonna cum.”
“Already?” he scoffs, “pretty easy cunt ya got here then, sweetheart.”
You cry out, the sound of skin slapping and your pussy squelching from his rapid thrusts are so loud in the small living room, making your walls flutter and clamp down on his pistoning cock. 
“Wanna cum,” you sloppily kiss down Leon’s jaw to his neck, sucking a bruise into his skin, “want you to cum with me.”
Leon groans, sounding pained, “Sure, honey. Where do you want it?”
“My mouth,” you pant out quickly, “cum in my mouth, please.”
“Fuck,” he laughs choppily, “okay then sweetheart. I’ll cream your little throat.”
You whine and rock your hips down faster, “Yes, yes, Leon, so good.”
One hand moves to your hip to help you keep up a quick rhythm and the other goes back to rubbing and flicking your sensitive clit. 
“C’mon, honey, cum on my cock so I can fill that pretty mouth,” he smirks and shakes the hair out of his face, “you can do it, be a good girl and cum for me.”
Leon bottoms out in your pussy and just grinds against your g-spot as he teases and pinches your clit; your thighs lock up as your orgasm washes over you, pussy clamping down and milking his cock, clit throbbing under his thumb as he keeps up the slow steady circles on the sensitive nerves. 
“Good girl, good girl just for me,” he noses your hairline, feeling your body shake as he overstims your clit, “get in the floor, honey, ‘m ready for you to swallow this load.”
You moan and arch up, begrudgingly pulling yourself off of his dick so you can kneel between his thighs on the floor. 
“Want it, Leon,” your glazed eyes peer up at him, watching as he fists his cock in front of your mouth. 
“Oh you’re gonna get it, baby,” he grunts, “open that fucking mouth.”
You part you lips and loll your tongue out, whining when you feel hot spurts of jizz land on your tongue and lips. 
“Fuck that’s it,” he groans, watching you with sea dark eyes, hand slowly stroking his dick, feeding each spurt of cum into your open, eager mouth. 
You moan, the sound garbled from the cum pooling on your tongue and sliding down your throat. 
With one last groan, he lets go of his twitching cock. You watch as it droops, a drop of cum beading on the fat tip making you duck froward to lap at the head. 
“Baby,” he hisses, “a little early for me to go again,” he laughs and rubs his thumb across your bottom lip. 
Your tongue darts out to lap at his thumb, “S’good though?”
“The best, sweetheart,” he leans down to pull you up in his lap, “can’t wait to taste you later.”
You sigh, eyes drooping in pleasure. Guess that pajama set really did work out in your favor. 
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Text
Good Morning, Mr Reid... - Spencer Reid
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Pairing - Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader
Rating - 18+, Minors DNI - Smut - NSFW!!!
Summary / Prompt - When you wake up sweet Spencer with your wet dream, he can’t help but need to make your dreams a reality.
Warnings / Content - smutty smut smut lmao, being woken up by sexy times but that’s about it I think? (Nope also piv unprotected and nutting inside, I'm shit at proofreading the first time >_<)
Word Count - 900-ish
Author’s Note(s) - Bit shorter than my usual but this idea popped into my head and I wanted to try writing from Spence’s pov so here this is! Hopefully my fellow Horny-For-Reid girlies enjoy~
Additional Tags - Spencer is needy for you, smart boy is dumb for the meow-meow, consent is STILL IMPORTANT BABES
Spencer Reid was no stranger to being woken up by a myriad of things - his job was usually the top culprit. But this morning, it was you that pulled his focus into being. At first, he thought something might be wrong from the noises you were making. But after a moment of watching you, clearing his sleep-bleary eyes, he realized that was hardly the case.
“Spence…” It was a breathy sigh, almost tricking him into thinking you were awake. Were you? No, he decided; Apart from the fact that your breathing was more suited for someone in the throes of unconsciousness, your eyes were shut and you didn’t respond when he softly murmured your name. Dreaming, then.
About him, from the continued speaking of his name. It was a crime, really, to look that pretty when you weren’t even aware of it. Spencer was just enthralled with watching the way your face scrunched, he almost missed the way your hands were moving down to- oh. It was that kind of dream, then.
His eyes widened, already feeling the familiar tension of his cock straining against his boxers as you touched yourself, so unaware and still so pretty. Your voice a whine, begging him, please Spence please - he could think of nothing he wanted more than to give you whatever you wanted. You’d talked before about this sort of thing - it had never come about, until now. Waking you up with his touch, his cock to fill you up as the first thing you felt during the day.
He’d been cautious, as consent was a serious subject - but you’d assured him that, if ever there were a time that it called to him, he was more than welcome to do so. He was grateful for his eidetic memory, the echoing of those words in his mind now to settle where this was going.
But he wanted to watch a little longer, whether that was selfish or not, he didn’t know- and didn’t really care. Seeing your chest rise and fall while you messed with your bundle of nerves, still quietly begging him for something, anything, was enough to spur him into reaching for himself. The slow pumping of his fist and the sight before him pulled a low groan from Spencer; he tried to keep quiet, but it was a challenge. With you in front of him, doing that…really, could you blame him?
“Baby…” He sighed, eyes darting between your face and your hands, to the thin fabrics that kept you from him, for now. “Wanna be inside you. Can I be inside you?”
Your eyes fluttered a bit, but nothing more in response. Spencer was almost desperate, he needed to feel you wrap around him, so tight and warm-
“Baby,” He tried again, more of a whine than anything else. His free hand pulled you closer, nuzzling his face into the soft skin of your neck. “I need you, need you so bad-“
“Mmm…Spence…”
He rutted up against you; the brushing of your wetness against him, coupled with the way your arms instinctively moved to wrap around him, just made him need it even more. His hands slid your panties to the side, far too dire of a need to even bother with removing them completely. He took a moment to line himself up and pushed into you, letting out a deep moan that lilted into your name at the end.
“Fuck, so tight, baby,” He groaned, kissing your neck. He felt you rustle beneath him, a little groan escaping you.
“Morning to you, too,” You murmured back, a small laugh caught up in the way he felt pressing against your walls. “Thought I was dreaming there for second.”
“For a second, you were.” He amended, pulling back to give you a kiss. “I thought this could be a perfect time to test out that idea you had.”
“I’m certainly not complaining,” You gripped his shoulders as he thrusted deeper, earning noises from the both of you. “Couldn’t even wait long enough to get me naked, huh?”
Your teasing made him flush. “I- well, I just-“
“IQ of 187, and it all folds and disappears for me.” You smirked, and were quickly distracted again once he pushed further inside of you. “Fuck, Spence-“
“Not just me, huh?” He huffed, lifting your leg up to hit further back. “Not my fault you’re so pretty, I just wanna fill you up.”
“Please, do.”
“Say it for me.”
“Please, Spence, fill me up,” You cried out as he hit the spongy spot in tandem with rubbing against your clit, just how he knew you liked. “Fuck, I want you to cum in me, please-“
“Wanna see you cum first,” He groaned, rolling you over so he could lift both your legs to his shoulders. His own orgasm was impending, threatening to spill over, but he needed it to be you first.
“Don’t stop, Spence-“ Your nails dug crescents into his back before falling to the sheets, white knuckled as you told him, “Just a few more- I’m so close, I’m so-oh!”
Your release triggered Spencer’s own, no more willpower to hold back from it once he felt you shake and tighten around him. “Fuck,” he whimpered, “Me too, baby, me too,” and with your gentle praises he spilled over into you with a deeply pleasured moan.
You laid there together for a bit, not bothering to detach from one another until Spencer mentioned the need for cleaning you up.
“Well, are we going to shower, or are we going to fuck in the shower?” You smirked.
He was already getting hard again at the thought.
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mvybanks · 1 month
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BUT DADDY I LOVE HIM
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a/n: i finally did it🥳🥳 but daddy i love him by taylor swift was written for him and only him and you can’t change my mind! not my favorite fic of mine but i hope you enjoy!
warnings: not proofread yet!!! all of the lyrics of the song are basically in this fic lmao, lots of hate towards the pogues but nothing major other than that
word count: 3.2k
pairings: jj maybank x kook!reader
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Kooks and Pogues.
Always one against the other.
That’s how it’s always been in the Outer Banks. If you’re a Kook, you cannot like a Pogue, and it goes both ways.
It is a rule as old as the island, one that never changed and never will. It would be a scandal if it did, right?
You were never one to have cared about something as stupid and superficial as that. Although considered Kook princess — that was the nickname that everyone had gifted you since birth — you also appreciated the company and friendship of those who should’ve been your greatest enemies.
It didn’t help the fact that you were in love with one of them, either.
JJ Maybank was as local as they came. Never had anything to his name, unless we count the remaining five dollars in his old wallet, and always on the run — from what? Perhaps it is better that we don’t ask him that.
We could put it this way: if you were Kook princess, he could’ve easily been Pogue prince.
It should’ve been unusual for the two of you to have ever even had a conversation, let alone one long enough to have made the both of you fall in love. The thing was that you had no problem in talking with him, and he had no reason, nor enough self control, to not have flirted with you any time he’d had the chance.
All of the time you had been spending with JJ and his friends, getting acquainted with them and sharing those whispered secrets that only those whom you trust the most know about, it had all led you to that moment — lying in your lover’s arms.
Your back rested against his bare chest as your bodies were being soaked by the warm rays of sun and lulled by the gentle movement of the waves that were dancing underneath you. JJ’s arms circled your waist with greed and affection, for he could have never gone a day without feeling your skin beneath his loving touch, and his head was hidden in the crook of your neck — the place where he belonged.
“Wanna stay like this forever,” he mumbled in your skin, tickling it in the process, “Feels like heaven.”
You hummed in content, “Me, too.”
The pair of you had been stuck in your place all morning, just letting the waves and JJ’s surfboard take you wherever they wanted to and hoping it was as far away as possible. You hated that your relationship had to be kept as a dirty secret that no one was supposed to know about, but what were you expected to do but ignore your elders, and most of your peers, and let your heart beat for the only man that owned it. It is impossible to control one’s heart’s reason to beat, and one as big as yours was even more untamed than others.
Sneaking away was fun for sure, but you wished to scream it from the rooftops. JJ was no different from you, and he would’ve made you officially his if it hadn’t been for the judgmental creeps and the fear of your parents taking you away from him.
And so, with the uneasy knowledge of being unaware of the next time that your heart would beat against his, he walked you home that early morning. The sound of the birds chirping was peaceful and rendered the journey more bearable — although it was your smile that had made everything so much more than only bearable to JJ.
You couldn’t have known that someone was watching you as your boyfriend led you to the rich side of the island, that was Figure Eight, waiting, almost wishing, for you to make a mistake.
“I’ll see you tonight, princess?” He whispered on your lips as your bodies were being hidden by the large oak tree just a few blocks before your house.
You grinned up at him and nodded, brushing your mouth against his as you did so. “See you tonight, baby.”
You didn’t like lying to your parents. Having to make up excuses whenever you wanted to go out wasn’t fun, but a dutiful daughter, the Kook princess, couldn’t have been seen hanging out with people that belonged to a lower class than her. What your parents didn’t know couldn’t have hurt them.
Therefore, you began getting ready to see your Pogue prince that evening, knowing that your parents believed that you were going to a friend’s house. Just as you were finish buttoning your dress, JJ’s favorite, you heard your father come back home, slamming the front door of your house with anger and impatience. It was unusual, which was why your brows automatically furrowed at the loud sound, that it was then followed by his voice, yelling your name.
You all but ran down the stairs, attempting at understanding the commotion, but it seemed that your mother had already gotten the news that your dad hadn’t told you yet. He looked at you as if you had been his greatest disappointment.
“What’s going on?” You asked, scared of even letting out those words.
Your father stated at you for a second before he finally confessed the reason of his obvious fury. “How could you have done this to me? How could you have done this to your family?” He raised his voice, and you had never felt smaller than you had in that moment.
“I - I don’t understand.”
“Do you have any idea how embarrassing it was for me, huh? Everyone pitied me! And then, it was Ward Cameron that had to tell me that my daughter was hanging out with some…Pogues.”
Shit.
Shit.
Shit.
He knew. They knew everything.
“We raised you better than this!” Your father all but yelled as his forefinger pointed at you, and you were sure he was wishing to have had a knife at the end of it.
Tears began running down your face as you attempted at walking closer to him. “But dad, I love him!”
He scoffed — mocking you and your choice of words. “I don’t care if you think he’s the love of your life, he’s not! He cannot provide for you and he’s not the man that I want my daughter to be seen with.”
You turned to your mother, hoping and praying to find consolation and understanding in her. “Mom, say something, please!”
Shaking her head, she only laid her eyes on you to show you the dissatisfied look in them. “I can’t, honey. Your father is right. That boy is only trouble and you deserve better…more.” Although seeming sad, she rejoiced and a glad appearance casted on her as she continued, “That’s why we’re going out to dinner with the Thornton’s tonight. Their son is a fine man, you’d be a very lucky girl.”
To say the world was crumbling all around you was an understatement.
More.
What was ‘more’? You deserved more than someone who loved you and cared for you as if you hung every star in the universe? You needed more than a man who would’ve laid down his life for you?
At that point, you were unable to control the never ending tears. “You’re serious?! I’m not going out with anyone, you can’t force me!” You raised your voice as well, as you couldn’t believe that they thought it would’ve been possible for your heart to beat for someone else.
Without ever taking another glance at you, “My house, my rules,” your father exclaimed, his words tasting like venom when he announced his last words on the matter, “You’re not to see him ever again. That is final.”
Devastation was all you knew. How could they have taken him away from you? The only good thing in your life, the only person that made you feel like you were real, alive, like you could be whoever you wanted to be, and now, he had been brutally stolen from your fingertips, slipping through them without control.
That was your life after all — a continuous scroll of events that you had no say in nor any control, always under the rules of society and your parents. They had simply made the ultimate decision of stealing your last crumble of freedom.
As much as you wanted to hear JJ’s voice, you couldn’t call him. It would’ve been cruel to the both of you to admit those last words out loud. Instead, you texted him to warn him that your parents knew about the two of you and that you couldn’t go out with him that evening — cowardly avoiding him.
And so, you wore the dress that was supposed to be for him and the natural-looking makeup that you knew he was obsessed with, and let your parents manipulate your life once again.
“This is a darling restaurant. Thank you for inviting us tonight.” Mr. Thornton formally announced as you, your parents and the Thornton’s sat down at your reserved table.
Perhaps you were being too dramatic, but you felt like you were sitting down for your last supper — you were being sent to the gallows and your parents had been the culprits.
Topper Thornton relaxed in his seat right next to yours, a smug smile on his face while he listened to the two married couples talk about arguments that were as interesting as the weather. In the meantime, your silence was loud. You were screaming at the bars of the cage you that they had trapped you in, praying for someone to come rescue you and help you escape.
Then, you heard Mr Thornton call your name, which caused you to look at him.
“We’ve heard the stories about those Pogues, you know.” And you didn’t miss the judging stare in his eyes as you attempted at stopping yours from rolling in the back in your head in annoyance. “It’s good that you’ve come to your senses, young lady. We all want what’s best for you.”
It was hard to keep your laughter in almost as much as it was to not show your disapproval. “Right,” you whispered under your breath as you looked over the menu in your hands as if it had been the most beautiful thing in the world, “What’s best for me.”
Your mother hissed your name in order for you to have been the only person to hear her, “Play nice.”
“I’m just saying,” he continued, “It would be a shame to disgrace your good name, and for someone like those low-lifers.” He chuckled at his last words as you wondered how many stabs it would’ve taken your knife to make him shut his mouth.
You landed on three.
And just as you were about to respond with another quick remark, you heard his voice. You swore your eyes were about to pop out of your head and your smile had been impossible to stop when he had said, “Good evening. I’ll be your waiter tonight. Are you ready to order yet?”
The JJ Maybank cocky grin stared at you and you couldn’t help but feel a warmth inside you that only the calming ocean in his eyes was able to provide.
You weren’t sure if anyone at the table knew that he was the one that you had been seen with, but from the way no one batted an eye, you realized that they had no idea — after all, Pogues all looked the same to them, so how could they have known it was that particular one that had stolen your heart? (other than multiple of other things, but that’s another story.)
Once everyone had ordered, JJ left, although he never took his eyes off of you — or maybe what he couldn’t stop staring at was the closeness between you and Topper.
“I will admit that they’re not all bad.” Mrs. Thornton admitted, which gained everyone’s curiosity, “These Pogues, I mean. Some of them try to work their way up. Nonetheless, I don’t think it’s right for them to ruin the reputation of someone who comes from such a good family.”
You couldn’t believe that they were still talking about it — as if it wasn’t a Pogue who was handling their food in that very moment. The twitching of your eye was hopefully undetectable as the conversation went on and on, getting worse by the second.
“They’re known thieves, for sure.”
“Most of them have never attended school, either.”
“They ruin this island’s credibility.”
All of the alcohol that you had ingested that evening hadn’t been enough for you to stop yourself from abruptly getting up from your seat and earning a few looks from the tables around you as the loud sound of your chair on the expensive pavement of the restaurant filled the air.
“What are you doing? Sit down!” Your father whispered sternly, an embarrassed expression on his features while he looked around.
“I - I have to go to the restroom.” Finally you shakily exclaimed before all but running to the nearest bathroom, just dreaming about some fresh air. It felt like torture to stand there and listen to them talk about your friends — your boyfriend, for god’s sake — as if they had been the worst people on the planet.
As you quickly walked to what you hoped to have been a restroom, you felt a hand wrapping around your arm and dragging you through another door, which immediately led you to the back of the restaurant. A tiny scream escaped from your lips in surprise, but it was stopped by the weight of a hand.
“I’m sorry, princess, it’s just me.” JJ chuckled as he closed the door behind you and let you rest your back on it.
“Jay,” you breathed, and it felt like the first time you had been able to do that that evening, “what are you doing?”
Letting his hands dance down your torso until his arms circled your waist, he bent his head down to meet yours. “It’s killing me to see you with him, you know that?” He lowered his voice, which sounded deeper and richer than usual, and it caused butterflies to come alive in your stomach.
You placed your hand on his cheek, rubbing the rough skin with your thumb and pulling him impossibly closer. “My parents are forcing me,” you sighed, “They just keep going on and on about Pogues and I can’t listen to them anymore.” And as you noticed the strange look in his eyes, the obvious hesitation in them, you added, “You know I don’t care about him, right?”
He smiled and gently brushed the tip of his nose against yours as he breathed you in. “I hate this, baby. I wish I could be there with you instead of him.”
“Me, too.”
“And he better keep those hands to himself.”
You chuckled lightly at his words, “I’ll make sure of it.”
“Good.”
JJ noticed the tears that started to prick at your eyes immediately and his hands flew to your face, holding the soft skin and forcing you to stare into his honest eyes. “Hey, hey. This doesn’t mean we have to break up, alright? We’ll figure it out, princess, we always do, okay?” You only got to nod once at his words before his lips touched yours, slowly and passionately while his arms held you closely to his body. “I love you.” He mumbled on your mouth.
“I love you, too, Jay.”
“What took you so long?” Your mother asked as you came back to the table, your hair now out of place — not that you cared about it anymore.
“Just needed to get some air.” You wore your best fake smile and drank your glass of wine in one sip before pouring yourself another one. “Have we finally changed the subject?”
Your dad reprimanded you by saying your name, a threatening tone hiding behind it.
You shrugged, “What? You can all speak poorly of Pogues as if I weren’t here but I can’t say anything about it? Thought this was a free country.”
Mr. Thornton looked like he was having a stroke and his wife was none the better. “You should be more grateful about what you have, young lady.”
You snorted, more loudly than you wanted to, but you had seemed to have lost all inhibitions. “You know what, Mr. Thornton? I’ve always been grateful. I’ve always been the perfect, dutiful daughter, and my parents still don’t trust me, so what’s the point, right?” You could feel everyone’s eyes on you, and sure that you were causing a scene, you decided to finish off the show. “So what if my boyfriend’s a Pogue? Why should everyone care about that?”
Just like all of the waiters, JJ was watching the scene, and although he loved how you were defending him, he decided it was the right time to rescue you. He all but ran to you, clapping his hands a couple of times to get everyone’s attention.
“Alright, folks. Show’s over.” He announced as he approached your table.
“You have to calm down and sit back down.” Your mom told you while placing a hand in front of her face in order to hide her embarrassment.
“And you want to know what’s funny? You’ve been shit talking about my boyfriend all night and he was our waiter all along.” You drunkly laughed while JJ tried to keep you upright.
“Way to keep it a secret, babe.” He whispered, although a mischievous smile adorned his lips.
This time it was your father who got up from his seat, pointing a finger at the man whose arm was the only reason why you were still standing. “You…You’re the Pogue who brainwashed my daughter!”
“He did what?!” You let out another laugh, but the look on your face said everything anyway.
“With all due respect, sir —“
“Stay away from my daughter! And don’t talk to me.” He interrupted JJ, catching him off guard.
“You’re so scared of what this relationship might lead to, but you know what? I’m already having his baby.” You didn’t miss the way everyone stared at you shockingly, and even though you wanted to keep it up, you couldn’t help but retract it immediately, “No, I’m not, but you should see your faces!”
“Now we really should leave.” JJ admitted, grinning at you. He grabbed your glass and took a sip of it, at which you laughed loudly once again.
“Thank you for the lovely evening, Mr. and Mrs. Thornton. You two are unbearable.”
“Yep, lovely evening and everything.” He yelled as you two ran towards the exit.
“Come back here right now!”
Your heart beat rapidly as JJ hopped on his bike and waited for you to do the same, the sound of the vehicle revving making you all the more excited. Your arms held on tighter to him and you swore you could hear his heart beating faster as well.
“You ready, baby?”
“Floor it, Jay.”
And you would’ve paid all of the Kook money in the world to have seen their faces as the Kook princess drove off with the Pogue prince.
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forcemeanakin · 9 months
Text
Make you feel better.
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•WARNINGS: SMUT.  Vaginal sex (female top), unprotected sex, blowjob, handjob, degradation kink, spanking, dirty talk. Explicit mentions of injuries.
Pairing: TCW!Anakin Skywalker x female reader.
Summary: You are a nurse in the 501st squad and General Skywalker needs some assistance. Only you could help him feel better.
Word count: 4.8K. This started as a blurb, but I’m incapable of shutting up. I haven’t stood up from my chair since 10am, so enjoy.
A/N: I’m so so so so in love with this man, it’s sickening. Scenario inspired by Ahsoka ep.5!. NOT PROOFREAD!!, english is my second language, so please be gentle. If there are any mistakes, pls let me know in private so I can correct them, thanks :) Also I have a serious issue between differentiating “in” and “on” situations, so bare with me lmao
Also first one shot since like forever????
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As a war nurse, you are used to treating the nastiest of wounds, the bloodiest of cuts, the vilest of injuries. 
You have chosen your profession out of love and vocation. As cliche as it might be, the true desire of your heart was to help people feel better: The plan was to specialize as a pediatric nurse, even becoming a doctor one day. Working at a hospital, maybe have a private practice with that medic husband of yours you often dreamed about. 
All of that was erased the moment war erupted. 
Fresh out of nursing school, every single one of your classmates, including yourself, were drafted to report to duty as nurses on the frontlines. The assignment of troops was random, but as if fate had decided, you were put at the service of the 501st. Little did you know, the job was harder than you had ever imagined it would be; and the constant bombing and deceased people you had to observe had nothing to do with it.
It was the general of the squad that made your job more complicated than it had to be.
General Skywalker. 
Well, it wasn’t exactly him, but the persistent crush you had on him. 
Needless to say, it was extremely unprofessional to be daydreaming of the person who was technically your boss. Even more unethical to be full-on fantasizing about his dick size when you were supposed to be suturing injured clones. But dammit, was it hard. So hard to be so close to his pulling presence and yet so far from achieving anything real with the man. Not that you had tried. Public rejection would be even more embarrassing than crushing on him. 
Anakin Skywalker hardly recognized your existence. Between his duty as leader on the field, his responsibilities as Jedi off-hours and the reduced sleep time he could squeeze in between battles, he didn’t have time to remember the name of one of the nurses of his legion. Especially when he never went to the tents himself; the god of a man was indestructible. 
Fuck, was he hot.
Just watching him scream: “Forward!” every day, as he ran directly to conflict with bravery was enough to have you dripping. His whole General image was your own personal definition of lust; his armor, the tone in which he would deliver orders, the frown he would wear until he had defeated each and every single one of his enemies. The smile he would flash whenever they won over a battle. Luckily, it was often.
But you had this idea that, out all of the medical staff, you were his least favorite. Maybe it had something to do with how social you were: always distracting his soldiers with jokes as you cleaned their cuts so they wouldn’t think of the sting. Or maybe it had something to do with how emotional you could get during your shifts: always fighting with your colleagues so they would treat the troopers as people, not numbers. Even if he had created a culture of trust among his peers, you weren’t sure if he appreciated that you caused so much trouble within the medical wing. 
You had endured a year of stolen glances, salivating at the sight of him from afar and lonely nights with just your hand. Cheeks would blush so fast whenever he would catch you checking him out, and maybe you were drunk on the smell of medical alcohol, but you swore that you caught him checking you out too once.
But that was long forgotten the next day, when he came back to being his same old cold persona. You forgave that aspect of him: the atrocities he had committed in the name of the Republic weighed heavy on his shoulders, slouching his proud figure whenever he had to face the reality of his situation. 
The same you had to face everyday.
“Who’s available?!” Yelling was the official way of communicating over here. You were finishing up a bandage on a trooper that had lost his left leg, meaning that you had to answer the call of duty.
The Ryloth takeover was more hectic than the squad had ever anticipated. Soldiers falling left and right, some didn’t even make it to the medical bay, just straight to the pseudo-morgue that was built to then give them a final resting place. 
“I’m almost ready to take the next one!” You screamed over the noise from the ships flying over.
“Ms. Dana.” Someone called you by your last name from outside the medical tent. “General Skywalker’s tent in 5.”
That made you drop the jar of gauze.
No one has ever been there, you thought. 
Outside of his skippy padawan and uptight master, Anakin’s tent had always been off limits to the public. His sacred place to unwind in peace. The ways he must unwind after a long day of battle…
“Ms. Dana!” That woke you up from a very explicit image of Anakin jerking off the stress away. 
“C-coming!” You choked. Grabbing your personal kit, you ran to the destination that had your clit throbbing with anticipation. 
You would see the sheets he slept on, the place where he storaged all of his robes, the shower that saw him naked every day. Jealousy of an inanimate object took over you as quickly as it left, making you feel stupid for getting angry at a room.
You almost didn’t notice that the battle was over, the only remnants of it were the people being moved in gurneys, the clouds of dust and the beaten up ships. Your outfit was probably not the best to endure the hardness of the Ryloth landscape: a tight, white buttoned up dress with a stupid little hat on top of your head. You hated the son of a bitch, it was ridiculous as fuck, but necessary for recognition among all of the personnel working in camps.
Anakin will think it’s stupid too. 
He will think you are stupid. 
The self-degradation stopped once you reached the entrance of his tent. Gulping exaggeratedly, you were unsure if to knock, announce yourself or wait until he was annoyed enough to come out and see you standing there like an idiot. 
“Come in.” It was his voice who cruelly cut the silence, growling. 
With shaking legs, the green fabric that formed his personal chamber was removed from your eyesight and you were hit by the delicious smell of him. So manly, so musty. It smelled like his cologne all over and you wished you bottle that up to spray it on your own sheets. 
It was less rewarding to see him sitting on the edge of his bed with an exasperated stare, analyzing your figure with obnoxiousness. You even cut short your eye-fucking tour of his body when you met his tired eyes.  Have you taken too long to get here?
“So they sent you.” He sighed, deviating his gaze. The evident disgust at your presence made you slouch timidly. You were a good nurse. The best one in the camp, if you dare to say. “I told Rex I’m fine. I don’t need assistance, it’s just a bruise.” His tone was harder than his words, surprisingly. 
“Well, now that I’m here, might as well take a look at that, huh?” Fighting through the devastating embarrassment, you proceeded to walk over his bed to place your kit. Biting your lip, you feared to ask the next question. “Shall we get started?”
He was one step away from rolling his eyes. “Fine. Just do it quickly.”
“Got it, sir.” Weird. There was no chilly breeze, however, Anakin had just flinched. “Care to show me where the bruise is?” 
He hesitated for a bit, closing his eyes with frustration. You were about to ask again when he exhaled with annoyance. “It’s not that big of a deal.”
“I would like to confirm that. Please, sir, the faster we do this, the faster I’m on my merry way.” You hated that he was desperate to kick you out, but apparently your compelling argument helped to accelerate the process. 
After seeing that he still felt fuzzy about checking the bruise, you decided to start somewhere else. “Let me get started with this cut over here. Looks pretty nasty.” 
You doubted if to take a seat, scared that it would be too close to him, but you needed the space to maneuver. Giving up to your internal fight, you sat down next to him and began by cleaning up the wound that escaped the fabric of his burgundy robe. 
“That’s nothing.” He mumbled under his breath, still not looking at you. 
Ignoring his attempt to diminish your work, you decided to also ignore your basic instinct to start a conversation to ease up the process. The internal alarms of survival were yelling at you not too. However, there was a moment where the alarms shut down, basically because every part of your brain shut down simultaneously and it was when you had to grip his bicep to make it stand still. Your fingers dug into the hard muscle, feeling how every little bit flexed under your fingertips, proving first-hand just how strong he was. 
“Done. Now I’m gonna clean the ones in your face.” You poured some alcohol into another cotton ball and turned to face him. 
Being face to face with Anakin Skywalker had been the most intimidating experience of your life and that hot as hell scar and mean frown didn’t make it easier. In fact, it had you clenching around nothing. You cleared your throat before slowly reaching out for his chin, pulling him to give you a better look of his dirty and exhausted aspect. 
He gasped the second the puffy ball made contact with a cut on his left cheekbone. You took that opportunity to bring him some comfort, despite your irregular breathing and overall tenseness. Rubbing your thumb along his jaw, you saw his pain decreased until the sting was gone. You moved to another cut on his forehead, repeating the process until you had treated most of them gone. When you swapped your current cotton ball with a new one so caught him looking down on your body. 
It’s this stupid uniform.
He sensed your eyes on him and quickly deviated them to focus on your irises. You gulped before continuing your beeline around his face, this time close to the scar you often fantasize about in bed.
“That one 's old. No need to worry about it.” He joked.
He joked.
Unable to form a coherent comeback, you limited yourself to give him a nasal laugh, demonstarting that you got it. 
“Thought you wouldn't be this silent. You’re more chatty with the clones.” He said, slightly tilting his head.
“I didn’t know you wanted me to talk.” You replied, this time with a little smile as a peace offering.
“What did you think I wanted?” He frowned, interrupting your cleaning.
“I thought you wanted me out as quickly as possible.” You stopped momentarily to accommodate his face once more into a position you could work with.
He let out a dry laugh. “It’s nothing personal. I just want to come back to work.” 
“You just came back from battle and want to keep working? Do you ever stop?” You joked back, feeling how the atmosphere inside the tent had changed. Feeling more comfortable, you switched your body a little, now your chests were aligned, just inches apart. 
“Hardly.” He clicked his tongue, gaze slightly dropping to give a quick sweep of your lips. 
“Well, you should rest. Relax. That’s an important part of recovery.” You advised him, finishing up the last cut. You took a cloth of your kit and used it to clean some of the dry blood and dirt off him. 
“Can’t stay still.” He shook his head.
“There are other ways to relax.” You shrugged your shoulders, taking that little pause to admire his beautiful demeanor. Those blue eyes could spell you into saying yes to basically anything. 
“Like?” He pushed, licking his lips as his intense gaze focused on making you feel smaller and smaller.
“Like…” You dirty minded bitch, think about something other than sex! 
Almost like he could hear your inner dialogue, he chuckled. 
“Like taking a walk or reading a book.” You finally came up with a pg-13 alternative to relaxing. 
“Could be.” He snickered. After his beautiful giggle dialed down, you felt the tension switching. Thicker. More intense. “More of a physical guy myself.”
Feeling the pull to his plump lips, you rushed to get out of the trouble zone. “Ready for me to see this world-famous bruise?” 
Your brain short circuited when he snapped his shoulder armor in one swift move and threw it on the floor. The next thing had you mentally panting and physically in shock: Anakin was removing his robes to expose his naked and bruised torso. The skin of his middle part would dip perfectly into breathtaking abs, not to mention the flexing of his arms became more evident to you without the stupid robe in your way. 
The reddened-purplish spot expanded all the way from the right side of his lower abdomen, all the way down the waistband of his pants. The silent gawking didn’t go unnoticed by him, a little smirk coming to greet your widened eyes. That woke you up enough to get moving.
“H-how-“ You took a moment to regain some composure. “How did this happen?”
“A droideka fell on me.” He muttered shortly, almost as if the portion of information brought shame to him.
“Alright, I’m gonna need to palpate the area to know if there’s any further damage.” You announced with more nerves than a medical professional should speak to their patients.
Because he was now standing up, sitting down didn’t give you the best height to disinfect some of the minor cuts that tainted his perfect tanned skin. 
“Sir, I’m going to need you to lay down for me, please.” Formalities came back as soon as you felt threatened by his overpowering presence again. 
“No.” He spat, furrowing his eyebrows. “I’d prefer to stand, if it’s possible. Please.”
“Sure.” After all, it was your job to make the process easier for him. On the other hand, that meant having to kneel in front of him. That caught him off guard and almost backed down when you reached out to feel the tampered skin. “Please tell me where it hurts.”
Your little fingers began to poke around the wounded area, massaging the zones where you knew a more serious injury could present itself. It didn’t go under your radar the way he would have goosebumps whenever you looked up to him or groped him more firmly. Repeating over and over: “How does it feel here?” you made your way all over the part of the bruise that was visible to the eye. 
“Good. It seems like no internal organs have been compromised.” You announced with a little smile. Now the part you dreaded -and kind of expected- was next. “Uhm, I’m going to need to check the rest of the bruise to make sure you didn’t break your hip, sir.”
“Anakin.” He spat.
“Pardon?” You blinked rapidly.
“Call me Anakin. It makes this… easier.” He cleared his throat.
“Okay, Anakin.” You nodded. How you said the next thing so calmly was still a mystery to you. “So, I know this part may be uncomfortable, but I’ll need to remove your pants out of the way. Probably your underwear as well, if I need to take a better look. Don’t worry, I’ve seen enough male anatomy for this to be routinary for me-”
In the middle of your speech, as you dropped your gaze to prepare yourself for dipping your fingers under his pants, something snapped your attention. 
The gigantic bulge right in front of your eye line.
How you had missed such a tent while you palpated his abdomen was another mystery to you. 
“Uhm- I-” You choked, unwilling to look up. “I-”
Anakin made no effort to try and hide his wood. But what was the point? It was already there. You had already noticed it. 
Mumbling, you decided to continue being professional. It was a normal response after all. “I’ll go ahead and lower your pants, sir- Anakin, sorry.” You corrected yourself, but it was too late.
You had already seen the reason why he made you call him Anakin: his dick twitched the second you said “sir”. Now that was interesting. 
Your hand pulled down the brown pants, lowering his black underwear at the same time, only revealing his right hip, leaving the bulge quietly covered. Anakin’s chest rose uncontrollably, flinching every now and then when your hand would get too close to his boner, or when your warm breath would fan his exposed hip. When you finally dared to meet his gaze, to let him know you were almost through with the exam, you were pleased with the view above you. 
Rose pink cheeks, bottom lip trapped in between his teeth, darkened gaze fixed on your cleavage. It was the equivalent of liquid courage in human form. 
“Does this hurt?” You felt up another portion, this time closer to his groin. When he murmured a weak “no”, you inched even closer. “And here?” Same response. 
When you got to a point where your pinky grazed the bulge and he gasped, you knew this was the point of no return. 
“And does this hurt?” You asked, slowly palming the thick shaft that was threatening to rupture his pants at any given second. 
Swallowing harshly, Anakin refused to speak up a word. Instead, he let you carry on with your devilious plan. 
“And this? Does it hurt, sir?” You wrapped your hand around the still clothed member, rubbing faster and harder. 
He limited himself to closing his eyes, moaning on the low as your hand gripped his swell cock with more pressure and more confidence. Your ego was so high up in the sky that you had the impulse to rub your lips against the fabric already stained with pre-cum. 
“Sir, can I finish up the exam?” Your wide doe eyes were quite the contrary of your filthy intentions. 
Once he nodded with hooded eyes, you fished his veiny cock from out of the confinements of his underwear and tugged it out for you to admire all of its glory. It sprung free, the tip pointing directly at you, like it knew. Involuntarily, your mouth opened in admiration to such a big and thick frame. Anakin’s sly smirk made another surprise appearance at your gawking.
You were acquainted with male genitalia. But not like this. Never like this. 
So huge. So intimidating. So mouth-watering. 
“It’s almost like you have never seen one. Not as huge as this one, right?” You shook your head, biting your lip as you took in the whole image. You needed a minute to wrap around the idea that he was carrying this weapon everywhere he went.
Your hands -yes, plural, because you needed both to handle such beast- pumped fast to grant him the deliberation he so desperately craved. Yanking his thick shaft in between your palms had you pooling all over your white panties, like a goddamn slut. His hips were thrusting at the rhythm you had set, fucking your fist like he pleased. Feeling how he tensed his abdomen, the climax was closed.
Taking a last leap of fate, you stopped the jerking off momentarily and clutched the fabric of his pants down with both hands, revealing his whole lower part to your delight. His thighs, oh, his muscular thighs always did unholy things to you and to have them right there for you to grip was making you rub your own thighs together. Foreseeing what was to come, you let your hair down, losing the stupid hat.  
Digging your nails on the hardness of his leg, you licked the tip of his shaft, testing the water. The little drop of pre-cum you managed to catch was salty and warm, so deliciously milky. Moaning, you opened your mouth to lazily envelop his tip, rubbing it without interest, just softly teasing him.
“Look at you. Who would say that you would be so unprofessional, sucking your commanding general’s cock? Huh?” Anakin mocked you from his proud stand. “Miss little giggling nurse turned out to be a filthy cockslut. Salivating at the sight of my dick.”
You moaned, still pampering the reddened head of his cock.
“I could.” He chuckled, his thumb coming to caress your jaw just like you did to him earlier. “You think I haven’t noticed the way you stare when I walk by the medical tent? How you practically undress me with your eyes? Such a desperate slut. Begging to be fuck just right. Acting like you're not thinking about hopping on this dick while working.”
After giving a last open mouthed kiss on the sensitive tip, you opened your mouth and presented your pink tongue to him, for which he rewarded you with a smiling expression. 
“You offer yourself to make me feel better?” He cocked an arrogant brow.
Nodding, you let out a small, high pitched whimper to hurry him up. 
“Hope you know what you’re doing, baby.”
 And with that, he grabbed a handful of your locks with his gloved limb and the other one he used to tug your chin further down, making room for the rest of his cock. In the blink of an eye, he was fucking your throat raw, having no mercy for you or the tears that spilled from our eyes when he would especially far down. He emphasized repeatedly how he had to train you to take all of him in, that you were not properly ready to take someone as big as him. He even said it with pity, making fun that you hadn’t been fucking with real men. 
But he was here now. And he was going to take care of you. 
Even if you lack the ability to relax your throat enough for you to take the whole 9 inch monstrosity that was violating your breathing canal, he was appreciative of the way you gagged around him and the noises you made whenever the tip would hit a wall. He even praised the movements of your tongue on his underside, rewarding you with a little slap on your cheek. Anakin laughed when he heard your horny moan at the harsh action. 
Suddenly, Anakin stopped bobbing your head up and down his length, causing the mess of saliva that was covering both you and him to dissolve into a mesly string connecting you two.
“Let me see how well your other hole makes me feel, baby. Up.” As your legs made an effort to stand without shaking, Anakin returned to his previous seating position, this time manspreading to let his cock breathe in all of its glory. Patting his lap, he called you in like a dog. “Here.”
Dying of shame at the wetness that dripped from your inner thighs, you spread yourself until both your knees were at each side of his hips. Anakin glanced at the leaking juices and fucking grinned the brightest smile. 
“So wet just for sucking dick.” His index and middle finger retrieved some of the spill, playing with your sensitive nub on their way. He tasted the juices himself, licking his fingers clean. He hummed in approval, ripping your panties apart to have more access and drink up more of your arousal. “Pretty little pussy. Do you think it’ll fit?” He asked you with a narcissistic loop side smile, as he sucked some more off his fingers. 
“I don’t know.” You answered honestly, shaking at the ministrations of his hands around your ass.
“It will.” He reassured you, pulling your skirt up and entangling it just above your hips. “You’ll make it fit.” He put his hands behind his back, on the bed, yielding control to you. “Now show me how bad you’ve been wanting this. Ride my dick.”
Using his strong shoulders for leverage, soon your slick pussy was sucking up his length. The first contact had you digging your nails on his shoulders, fighting through the pain of the stretch, this position only enlarging the already swollenness of his member. Gasping with an open mouth, you fought to push yourself even further down. Skin to skin, you were feeling all of him in: every curve, every wrinkle, every twitch. Even after remembering the condom, you opted for not mentioning it. There was no way you could say goodbye to feeling him bare.
Anakin pulled you in by the neck, drinking in the scream you let out when you bottomed out. His lips tasted better than anything you had ever tried, so sweet by nature and salty because of the sweat. You just wanted more and more; anything he was willing to give you.
“Faster.” Anakin demanded; clasping to your hips to bounce you harder on him, to remind you that this was about him, not you. 
Obeying like the sub you were, you humped him faster, adjusting yourself to surround his shoulders with your arms so you could pull his hair. You knew he liked it by the way he purred on your ear, embracing your waist tighter to manhandle you better. The hug you were both entrapped in ended with his big hands holding both your ass cheeks, groping them in such a disrespectful manner: splitting them open, squeezing them until it hurt, slapping without any sort of consideration. 
“Mhm, just like that, baby.” He praised blissed out, his hand cruelly smacking your already red and abused rear. “You do know how to ride dick. So good, taking me so well with this slutty pussy of yours.” 
Chasing your own pleasure, you gripped him harder and grinded on his wood, rubbing your clit with his pubic bone. You whimpered when you felt the delicious shock on your clit, which only incentivized you to rock your hips even faster. You were close, so close to coming undone, clenching him like a vice. 
“C’mon, you offer yourself to me, to use you as I seem fit.” Anakin pushed you back so you could see him clearly. “I want you to bounce, baby. Bounce those tight tits for me.” 
Anakin removed three buttons of your dress, enough for him to get drunk on the sight of your boobs pressed together and bouncing, but not all the way exposed. Like instructed, you bounced on his dick like it was your job to do so, enamored by the view of him hypnotized by your jumping breasts. Your nipples would shyly come to greet out of your white top, albeit Anakin wouldn’t have the full show because of the fabric that still caged them. 
Tired of the partial view, Anakin’s hands left your ass and traveled to their next destination: your full tits. Without removing another button, he took in the weight of your boobs inside of his palms and played with your meaty buds like he had never seen a pair before. The rough movements of his hands around the fat caused your dress to open a bit more, basically leaving you naked for him. 
“They’re more gorgeous than I ever anticipated.” He muttered, before enveloping a peak inside his mouth and lapping at it repeatedly. “Seeing you with this lame excuse of a uniform it’s harder than going to war, baby. Craving a taste of you and not being able to do anything about it, it’s torture. Pure torture.” He moaned in a ragged voice, sucking in the same nipple with closed eyes, savoring it. 
“You- you wanted me?” You cried, sliding in more frantically.
You were so close and he had it in his hands to make you come in that same instant. 
“Baby, I’ve been dreaming about filling this pussy to the brim the second you were drafted.” He exhaled with a smile. “I hate seeing you with the clones: gifting them smiles that should belong to me, parading this cleavage around when it should be for my eyes only, showing off this ass when only I should know the feeling of it inside my palms.”
“Anakin! I’m coming! I’m coming!” You announced, simultaneously feeling how his dick twitched inside of you. 
“Let me feel it, baby. Come all over my cock. Indulge me.” This time it was you who took the initiative to kiss him, thinking this would be your last chance to savour him before this was all over. 
You convulsed around his dick, just like he asked, tumbling over his shoulder to regain your breath. Anakin followed short after you, shuddering as he spilled over, biting your shoulder to muffle his groan. 
After the aftershocks dissipated and you regained consciousness, the shame of what had transpired hit you like a train. Fixing your dress to cover more of you, you wondered how long you should wait before saying something. Luckily, Anakin broke the ice first.
“Next time you should keep the hat. I like it.” He chuckled, making you giggle as well. 
Needless to say, you were now expected to be in his tent every night after he came back from battle, split open for him, ready to take in all of the frustration of the day and make him feel better.
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leclerc-hs · 5 months
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pairing: charles leclerc x nanny!reader summary: in which charles is an idiot and you decide to make him suffer for a little bit warnings: smut, angst!, exhibitionism (kinda?), breeding kink!, language, 18+!, bad french!!! (please correct me and i'll edit), barely proofread (sorry if there’s mistakes my eyeballs hurt) word count: 5.9k (LENGTHYYYYY) author's note: had to give us some angst obvi....but also smut bc single dad charles is so hot. let me know what you think! I can't believe it ended up being this long but it felt like it was impossible to end. xoxo. please blow this up bc the effort I put into writing this took 100% of my brain power away lmao. also I got an anon request to write about nanny getting a internship with a fashion company which is included in this! french edits made by the lovely @dannyramirezwife (idk what I would do without you)
part 1 part 2
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
yourusername
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liked by landonorris, charles_leclerc, and 52,789 others yourusername welcome to miami 🐚🧡 view all 1,321 comments yourbsf but how do you kill it every time??? landonorris mmmm papaya looks good on you🍊 charles_leclerc how do I dislike a comment? liked by yourusername and 7,829 others yourusername 😂 user guys omg. user charles is NOT having it charles_leclerc beautiful. but please stick to red ❤️ user CRYING user lando is def on his shit list user lando wants her so bad lmaoooo
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liked by scuderiaferrari, charles_leclerc, carlossainz55, and 78,992 others yourusername luigi follows only the ferraris 🏎️🏁 view all 4,391 comments scuderiaferrari as you should! ❤️ user OMG SHES IN MIAMI!!!! user does this mean his daughter is there!!!! user i would hope. unless she's not doing her job lol user we need baby leclerc content!!! charles_leclerc damn right ❤️ yourbsf miami looks gooood on u. wanna move? yourusername 😏 charles_leclerc absolutely not user charles gtfooooo user what does charles just stalk her comments?
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liked by scuderiaferrari, yourusername, arthur_leclerc, and 1,582,817 others charles_leclerc special guests this weekend ❤️ we’ll keep pushing as always. view all 5,717 comments scuderiaferrari the most precious guests EVER user literally. user guys he’s using plurals again!!! user it has to be about @/yourusername too user crying they’re so cute carlossainz55 can’t wait for her to design my next helmet 🌶️ charles_leclerc OUR* yourusername sweet baby girllllll 🩷🧸🎀
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liked by charles_leclerc, carlossainz55, and 274,892 others lando.jpg mrs. 305 tagged yourusername view all 3,672 comments user omg. user are her and lando dating? user i hope not user they would be so cute carlossainz55 damnnnnn 🌶️🥵 lando.jpg don't poke the bear @/charles_leclerc charles_leclerc 😒 yourusername don’t ever let me take another tequila shot again lando.jpg should i cancel the ones i just ordered to your room? yourusername you BETTER be joking charles_leclerc is that why i opened the door to shots? charles_leclerc mon dieu user no like she's so pretty user they're sharing a room!??? landonorris tagged yourusername in a story!
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seen by charles_leclerc, yourbsf, carlossainz55, and 900,281 others yourusername
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liked by landonorris, carlossainz55, maxfewtrell, and 65,428 others yourusername who let lando behind the dj booth last night???? tagged landonorris view all 2,318 comments maxfewtrell he’s such a 🐍 user omg her and lando?? user lando has been in love with her for so long user can we just take in that charles didn’t like this post? user charles has a habit of not liking any of her posts with other men 👀 user ariana what are u doing here user where is charles?? user prob with his daughter bc she clearly isn't lol user it's HIS daughter landonorris i'm so lucky user WHAT!!!!!!! user GUYS HELP user IS HE CONFIRMING?!!!? yourusername you need to stop trolling the internet lando user DJ LANDOOOOO HAS RETURNED
YOU BEGIN TO wonder whether the universe harbors some inexplicable grudge against you. Because really, you always make sure to check in on your friends often. You always make sure to pay your bills on time, if not earlier. Heck, you even make sure to donate to a different charity every month. Yet, as the jet encounters heavily turbulent skies on the way to Miami, the persistent question echoes in your mind ‘why me?’.
Luckily, a bundle of joy rests on your lap, cupping your face in her hands, and playfully squeezing your cheeks. A sweet distraction from the terror you feel inside. It’s adorable how earnestly she tries to impact calmness in you, even though her eyes are half shut with sleep. 
“Ne sois pas effrayé,” Don’t be scared. Her voice maintains its gentleness as she swiftly loses interest in your cheeks, redirecting her tiny hands to play with the ends of your hair. “Je suis là avec papa.” Me and papa are here.
“Chérie,” Charles coos at his daughter, picking her up from your lap and resting her down on the bed. “Repose-toi bien," Get some rest. He tucks her into the bed, a space far too vast for her tiny body, nestling her favorite fluffy bunny stuffed animal by her side. You observe in admiration as he plants a gentle kiss to her forehead, then tenderly strokes her hair in a soothing manner.
“J’ai besoin qu’elle me borde, papa,” I need her to tuck me in. Her tiny fingers point to you and your heart instantly tightens. With a slight shake in your steps, you make your way to the bed, sitting on the side of it. “Bonne nuit, ma petite.” Goodnight, little one.
“Bonne nuit, maman,” Goodnight, mom. The words were mumbled with sleep, but it was the name that couldn’t be ignored.
For a brief period, both you and Charles experienced a suspended moment, a pause in time. Never had she referred to you in such a way, and you certainly didn’t want Charles to assume you influenced her perception in any manner.
“I don’t know why she said that.”
Caught like a deer in headlights, you pivot your head to face him. Panic courses through you, eyes widened, heart pounding. Yet, as you turn to Charles, he appears nonchalant, offering only a casual shrug of his shoulders.
“C’est bien.” It’s okay.
In a hushed pause, the both of you remain motionless aside from turning your head back to the sleeping toddler, entranced by how peaceful she looks. However, Charles finds it hard to divert his gaze from you. His eyes focus on the serene scene of his daughter’s fingers delicately entwined with yours, even in the depths of sleep, acknowledging the profound connection between you two. In these tranquil moments, where your presence is indispensable for tucking her in, Charles not only appreciates the nurturing care you offer but also recognizes the profound love and solace you impact. He can’t help but feel incredibly fortunate to have you in his life.
Only when Charles’s gentle hands tenderly squeezed the back of your neck, providing a subtle massage to your tense muscles, did you become acutely aware of the extent of your own exhaustion.
“Allez, dormons un peu, d’accord?” Let’s get some sleep, yeah? His lips delicately brushed against the shell of your ear, followed by a tender kiss on your temple, guiding you toward the other bed on the jet. Wrapping his arms snugly around your body, he let the both of you fall onto the mattress. While pulling the covers over both of you, your face pressed against his chest clad in a soft t-shirt. As you planted a gentle kiss above the neckline, you could feel the rapid rhythm of his heartbeat.  
Despite the passing of a few months since that initial kiss, your connection with Charles retained a serene simplicity. In the quietude of your shared moments, you found solace. Deliberately, you resisted the temptation to let your mind drift into the what if’s, choosing instead to remain in the present moments. 
However, within his mind, thoughts raced at a million miles a minute. Regardless of the casualness of your relationship you both claim to have, he couldn’t stop picturing you with swollen breasts and a swollen belly. The moment his daughter called you ‘maman’, an almost feral instinct surged within him. It was a wild and untamable force. He couldn’t stop imagining you pregnant. Full of his kid. Full of him. The need to fill you up with all of him was all but surging through his veins. All the blood was rushing to his cock, and he knew he needed to get these thoughts out of his head. 
“Bonne nuit,” Goodnight. His voice sounded so rough as his arms tightened around you and you easily fell into a quick slumber, feeling so safe in his arms from the turbulent skies.
-
The abrupt touchdown of the jet resonated through the cabin, rousing you from slumber. A ballet of movement ensued before your eyes met the scene: Charles had migrated to one of the plush seats, his daughter perched upon his knee. The ambient hum of the aircraft formed a backdrop to the unfolding familial vignette, a delicate interplay of affection. As Charles tenderly pinched his daughter’s cheeks, childlike laughter following their hushed whispers.
Charles shifted his gaze towards you, now upright on the bed. Your tousled hair framed a face adorned with the lingering softness of sleep, and your eyes, slightly puffy with remnant of slumber, held a captivating allure. Despite your disheveled state, he couldn’t help but find that you remained the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.
“Bien dormi?” Sleep well?
A gentle smile played on your lips as you rose from the bed, indulging in a languorous stretch that showcased the contours of your body. The fabric of the t-shirt clung momentarily, revealing the subtle canvas of freckles adorning your stomach to Charles. His gaze involuntarily flicked away, a reflex triggered by the flooding memories, thoughts of you pregnant resurfacing in vivid detail. The mere glimpse of your stomach had him internally spiraling. 
“Uncle Lorenzo and Auntie Char want to see you bébé,” baby. A ripple of excitement danced in his daughter’s eyes as she clapped her hands joyfully at the mere mention of her uncle. Lorenzo and Charlotte had made their way to Miami a few days prior, cleverly disguising their visit as an opportunity to vacation while supporting Charles in the impending race. This strategic maneuver afforded you and Charles the luxury of solitude in the days leading up to the event, a rare and treasured gift compared to the last few months.
-
“Merde,” Shit. He grunted as his head fell back against the headboard of the shared bed. His green eyes watching you with flushed cheeks as you worked yourself over his cock. “This is where you belong, yeah?” 
The morning sun peeked through the curtains of the hotel room. Eliciting a warm glow in the hotel room as you sunk down onto him deeper than before. Your pussy fluttering around his length, appeasing the ache that he created before you even opened your eyes. 
You nodded your head repeatedly. “Mon dieu, yes.” 
His hands cup your ass, fingers pressing firmly into the delicate layers of your skin, leaving an imprint as if searching for a connection beneath the surface. Controlling your movements, he urges you to move more frantically. The feeling of your hot, wet, pussy squeezing him was almost too much for him to handle.
With each passing second, the pressure of his fingers increased, creating a sensation of both command and invitation at the back of your neck. His touch was a deliberate grasp, not just holding but asserting dominance. Your lips met in a symphony of desire.  His tongue slipping into your mouth instantly, brushing against yours as he held you against him. Your nipples flushed against the toned muscles of his chest as you leaned in, and the pound of his hips fucking upwards into you, had you all but mewling into his mouth. 
“C’mon mon ange, don’t make me wait.” My angel.
You’re not sure if it was the pet name or the fact that you loved to please him. Or maybe the brush of his body against your clit. But your orgasm came quickly after while the tears spilled slowly from your eyes. He swallowed every moan you gave him like it was his own source of oxygen before flipping both of you over and pushing you face first into the mattress.
Every moan you gave him was like fuel to the pound of his hips. He was completely lost in the feeling of you. “Take it all,” he grunted as he pushed your body into the mattress deeper than before, his eyes not moving from the sight of his cock coated with you and slipping into you. 
You were begging and pleading him to give you more, more, more. You don’t know what more he could give you; you just knew you needed it.
“So pretty like this,” he muttered, “like you were made just to take my fucking cock whenever I need.” His thrusts began to slow, but the speed didn’t alter just how good they felt. No, he pushed himself even further, hitting all the spots just right. It was as if he was trying to become one with you. Like he wanted merge you two into a singular existence. 
“Cha,” You moaned out his name and you couldn’t see but his eyes widened. His heart clenched at the nickname. He pulled out quickly, provoking a complaint from your lips as he began scooping one of his arms under your stomach and flipping you onto your back. He took a second to just look at you, a shine forming in his eyes as he observed you. You look absolutely fucked. Cheeks flushed, hair all over the place, eyes glossed with satiation, and red marks all over your neck from his fingertips.
“Needed to see your face,” he answered before you could ask, slipping his cock back into your needy hole. The confession making your heart clench and the stretch of his cock had your stomach doing flips. “Besoin de voir tes yeux.” Needed to see your eyes.
His gaze was unwavering and fixed upon you. It was as if sought to etch the intricate details of your face into the canvas of his memory. He wanted to capture every nuance, every curve, and every expression that you made. 
“Merde, let me cum in you.” His eyes trailed down your face, to your neck, to your breasts. The bounce of your breasts from the force of his hips had him in a trance, thoughts of you with swollen breasts came back to mind. When he felt your pussy clench around him at the phrase, a smirk formed. “Yeah? Want me to fill you up sweet girl?
“S’il ti plaît,” please. You were pleading. You wanted nothing more. “J’en ai besoin.” I need it.
Charles’s eyes almost rolled to the back of his head at your confession. His groaning and grunting increasing in volume as he pounds into you harder, every inch of his cock pressing against your velvet walls as he releases into you, making you feel all warm inside. 
“Tu es parfaite.” You’re perfect. He collapses beside you; his voice was so low that you almost didn’t hear him mumble the words as he pressed his lips to your collarbone before resting his head on the pillows. You felt your cheeks redden almost instantly, brushing off the compliment with a smile and small laugh. 
“Je dois prendre une douche.” I need to shower. The mixture of his and yours cum was oozing down your leg. You could still feel the warmth of it. Charles mumbled a soft “mmmm”, already drifting off into a slumber. 
-
You weren’t sure what changed in the few minutes you were in the bathroom, but you could feel the unease build in your stomach as you emerged with a towel wrapped around your frame and skin flushed red from the heat of the water to Charles pacing around the room, a knuckle in between his teeth.
He was agitated to say the least. He felt betrayed by you.
A subtle smile played on Charles’s lips as the sound of the shower resonated in the room, accompanied by your soft hum of a song he couldn’t name. The ambiance of the hotel room cocooned him in a profound sense of peace, and in that moment, he wished he could stay here eternally with you. Kissing you, touching you, inside of you.
When he heard the buzzing of a phone on the table beside the bed, he instinctively reached for it without glancing at the screen, presuming it to be his own. Given the context of it being a race weekend, early morning phone calls were expected. 
“Bonjour?” Hello? He let out a cough, clearing his throat from the sound of sleep and satiated desire. The subtle rasp carried with it the traces of his happiness.
“Ah bonjour, hello, this is Camille with Christian Dior.” The woman’s voice echoes into Charles’ ear. He sits up immediately, back against the headboard. His first thought was ‘why is Christian Dior calling me?’ but it wasn’t that abnormal either. Companies reached out to him all the time for collaborations. “I am calling regarding the application we received for the internship and wanted to schedule and in-person meeting.”
Charles felt his stomach twist in knots as he listened to Camille chatter into the phone. Application? Internship? Moving the phone from his ear, he looked at the phone realizing that it was in fact yours and not his. This call was for you, not him. Camille’s voice was muffled as it was pulled away from his ear. 
A wave of nausea coursed through Charles, the unexpected revelation at the possibility of you leaving hitting him hard. How could you just apply for another job like that? He felt himself growing antsy and restless as thoughts swirled in his head. Camille, who was confused by the silence, mumbled something about calling back later due to the lack of response from Charles.
He dropped the phone onto the duvet of the bed, standing up and pacing the room while he felt himself begin to question everything. Questioning why you would leave. Does he not give you enough? Was it too much to handle? As his thoughts droned on, taking a turn for the worse, he began to feel angry. Angry that you considered leaving this job. He began to see red.
“Qu’est-ce qui ne va pas?” What’s wrong? You were cautious, not standing too close to him to give him some space. His head whipped in your direction almost too quickly. 
Your attention was drawn to the wrinkle lines etched on Charles’s forehead, marking the aftermath of his furrowed eyebrows. The subtle creases and wrinkles, usually absent in is carefree demeanor, painted you a picture of his current inner turmoil. When you shifted your gaze to meet with his narrowed eyes, the cautious padding of your bare feet seemed to echo.
It was an unfamiliar sight to witness Charles engulfed in such a storm of emotions. The stark contrast to his usual carefree and joyful demeanor.  He was blinded by his rage as he muttered the next words.
“Es-tu idiote?” Are you stupid? His jaw was clenched. A soft gasp left your lips as you clutched tighter onto the top of your towel, feeling rather exposed now. “Demande à Christian Dior.” Ask Christian Dior. His spat out the name Christian Dior with such disdain. As if it were dirt on the bottom of his shoe.
Your eyes widened, everything clicking. You weren’t sure how he knew, but he was answering your internal thoughts before words could form on your tongue.
“Ils t’ont appelé. J’ai répondu par erreur.” They called you. I answered by mistake. He let out a loud sigh as he leaned against the dresser across from the end of the bed, his forearms flexing as he gripped onto it tightly. You noticed the definition of his muscles and veins forming on his arms. He was squeezing the dresser, trying to gain some relief from such anger swirling within him.
At first, you wanted to argue him for answering your phone. But you knew him. You knew he wasn’t snooping. He said it was a mistake, so you took his word for it.
“Qu’ont-ils dit?” What did they say? You weren’t sure how to approach this conversation with him. You especially were not expecting it to go this way, with you wrapped in only a cotton towel.
His eyes narrowed to an almost imperceptible slit, the vibrant green drained from any warmth of presence. “Are you serious?” The exasperation in his voice reverberated through the room. Your question seemed to strike a nerve, leaving him incredulous. Was that all you had to say? The absence of an explanation hung in the air, adding more tension to the charged atmosphere between you two.
“Ne me crie pas dessus.” Don’t yell at me. You felt your own anger building at his attitude. Who did he think he was? You padded back to your suitcase, grabbing whatever outfit you could without paying attention. You weren’t sure what you even grabbed or if it even matched, but you didn’t care. You were too busy listening to Charles raise his voice.
“Don’t walk away from me.” He pushed off the dresser, trailing behind you. “What is this internship you applied for?”
You didn’t answer right away, instilling more anger within Charles. “Answer me. You’re just going to leave like always?” His tone struck you with disbelief, the harshness leaving an unexpected sting. The air was too intense. You needed to get some air.
Like always?
You turned and faced him. “Are you asking me as my boss or my fuck buddy?” You knew it was a low blow, but it was so unfair for him to be this mean to you. It wasn’t even necessarily his words but his tone that bothered you most. He spoke to you as if you were a child who needed punishing.
You had a shirt half-way over your head and black leggings on. “It’s just a summer internship. I didn’t even do the interview yet, but you seem to know that already.” You waved him off, rushing around the room to get your stuff. You needed to get out of here. You weren’t going to sit here and let him berate you.
“You can’t just leave.” He followed you to the door, gripping your wrist to pull you back towards him. You yanked your arm out of his grip.
“You’re just like everyone else.” His words tumbled out incoherently, much like uncontrollable word vomit. He could feel the panic rising in him as you made your way towards the door. “Right. Use me and then leave. It’s all I’m good for.”
His words twisted your stomach, and you chose to overlook the burning ache in your heart.
“Fine. Just go fuck your ex-boyfriend or something. Or Lando. I know he wants you.” He stood there, chest heaving up and down with his heavy breaths. You pulled the door open, standing in the frame, you took one last glance at him.
“Va te faire foutre.” Go fuck yourself. And with that you were out the door.
-
“Je n’arrive pas à le croire!” I can’t believe him! “C’est vraiment un connard.” He’s really such an asshole.
“Babes, you’re g’na need to speak in English for me to understand,” he laughed before taking a sip of his beer, “you muppet.”
You playfully rolled your eyes at Lando, seated across from you in the elegant ambiance of the hotel restaurant. Adorned in a snug black dress, every curve of your figure accentuated, the crystal jewels meticulously tracing the contours of your breasts. The garment displayed a subtle dip between your cleavage, adding an enthralling touch. It was safe to say you looked fucking good. Or as Lando said, “holy fucking shit, you took the air out of my lungs.” Which in response, you couldn’t resist a playful shove to his shoulder.
In the aftermath of the argument with Charles, you found yourself in the company of Lando, driven partly by Charles’s mention of him. Despite the strained circumstances, your connection with Lando remained strictly platonic. However, Lando’s penchant for flirting was a constant, adding a playful dynamic that colored your friendship. Thankfully for Lando, he was the reason you were able to even get a change of clothes seeing as you left the hotel room earlier in complete disarray. It was still your day off, one that was originally supposed to be spent with Charles. Lorenzo and Charlotte were still taking care of Charles’s daughter, leaving your night wide open.
“Martin’s driver is picking us up soon,” Lando declared, drowning the remainder of his beer and emphatically slamming the bottle onto the table. There was still two more days before the race weekend began, meaning Lando wanted to go out to which you agreed easily. Meanwhile, you maintained a composed sip from your glass of wine. With a playful glint in his eye, Lando added, “Get your dance moves ready muppet.” The prospect of the evening ahead seemed to carry a promise of lively escapades.
Your laughter echoed, creating a buoyant atmosphere as you seamlessly fell into a comfortable conversation with Lando. His easy-going nature and banter helped soothe the lingering nerves from the earlier argument with Charles. In that moment, you felt nothing but gratitude for Lando’s presence.
-
The vibrant lights of the club painted the atmosphere in a kaleidoscope of colors, while the unmistakable scent of alcohol lingered in the air. The club pulsated with energy of the intoxicated crowd, bodies swaying to the vibrations of music surrounding them. It wasn’t until you reached the DJ booth that you felt a wave of reassurance wash over you. 
The night unfolded with a multitude of shots, some in which you had to pretend to take, just to save yourself from vomiting on the floor. The music provided a lively group, thus creating a joyous atmosphere. You surrendered to the rhythm, dancing through the hours, deliberately steering clear of thoughts about the brunette Monegasque who typically occupied your mind.
As you slid out of the booth, making your way to the bathroom, you finally pulled your phone out of your purse. The screen was littered with missed calls and multiple messages, most from nonetheless Charles.
from Charles (dilf)    Where are you?                                              18:45 You’re such a brat.                                          19:19 Really? You’re with Lando?                             22:47 Could your dress be any fucking shorter?    22:51 Tu essaies de me tuer                                  01:27 You’re really testing my patience                01:46
You didn’t answer. Feeling triumphant as you snickered to yourself at his messages, him clearly struggling with the concept of you being out with Lando. Slipping the phone back into your purse, you continued your night, leaving all worries behind. Because if you didn’t, the mere reality of the argument with Charles would have you vomiting on the floor.
-
It was honestly insane how the sun was just beginning to rise. Yet, you and Lando were just stepping foot into the hotel not even a few minutes ago, drunken laughter between you both as you exited the elevator to Lando's floor. No doubt, pictures of you and Lando surfacing all over the internet tonight. But you weren’t worried about that. What you were worried about was the angry brunette standing outside of Lando’s hotel room door, his arms crossed, and eyes tired as if he didn’t sleep the entire night.
You and Lando both sobered up quickly from the sight of him, brooding in front of the hotel door. Charles opened his mouth, utilizing both of your native tongue to exclude Lando from the conversation.
“Tu es putain de sérieuse?” Are you fucking serious? The harsh tone he used drew you back to the argument that had occurred earlier in the day. Or should you say yesterday?
“Que fais-tu ici?” What are you doing here?
He rolled his eyes, teeth gritting as he looked over to Lando smiling beside you with his hotel room key in hand. “Muppet, are you sleeping over, or no? I’m tired.”
Charles didn’t afford you a moment to respond before swiftly shutting him down. The gaze he directed at Lando carried a lethal intensity, a silent warning that spoke volumes. “Absolutely fucking not.” Charles’s grip tightened on your arm, an assertive pull guiding you down the hallway toward the elevator. Surprisingly, you didn’t resist, allowing the momentum to carry you forward. You looked back at Lando who had a smirk on his face and winked at you. What a fucker.
The elevator enveloped you both in an oppressive silence, interrupted only by rhythmic beeping accompanying each floor you ascended. Charles maintained a deliberate gap between you, yet his hand remained firmly clasped around your wrist. In the mirrored surface of the doors, your eyes locked onto each other, breaths syncing. As the doors finally opened, Charles propelled you out with a gentle push, his body behind yours. 
It wasn’t until you both stepped into the hotel room that Charles unleashed a torrent of emotions upon you. His voice, thick with a mixture of anger, jealousy, hurt, and worry, carried the weight of the pent-up emotions he had been harboring. He had seen the stories, the posts, and even the photos of you at dinner, images captured by fans.
The way you smiled at Lando in the pictures had him throwing his phone. And don’t even get him started on the dress. The fucking dress.
“Do you like Lando?” He sneered, jealousy bubbling inside of his chest.
And because you felt like stirring the pot even more, you smirked. “Yes.” And although it was the truth, it wasn’t what Charles thought. You felt bad as you saw his face fall, but he deserved it just for a little bit at the very least.
You could feel all the thoughts racing through Charles head before he pulled you both towards the balcony, staring at the city skyline instead of at you. He pinched the bridge of his nose, his voice thickening with emotion, “What about me? What about us?”
“As a friend.” You finally announced, turning your body to fully face Charles. “I like Lando as a friend, Cha.” You confirmed, a groan leaving your lips. “Do we have to do this right now? I’m so tired and my feet hurt.”
“Oui.” Allowing no room for further complaints, Charles pulled you into an embrace, his arms enveloping you and effectively trapping you between the warmth of his body and the balcony railing. He nestled his head in the crook of your neck, finding a moment of relief in the reassurance that you were back, and in his arms. The tight hold on you spoke of relief.
“You’re mine,” He states. “Label or no label.” He's possessive in the way he speaks and touches you. Like he needs to get his point across. You feel him laugh as his fingers trail around your front side, trailing down until he can slip them up the front of your dress, pressing his fingers to your lace covered core. It was almost too easy. The dress was so short.
The desperate ache in the pit of your tummy grows with each swipe of his thumb along your covered clit. You began to forget why you were even fighting in the first place, his hands on you felt too good. You lulled your head back against him, making more room for his lips to attack on your neck.
Your ability to articulate words faltered, your legs turning to jell-o under his embrace. With one arm securely wrapped around your waist, he became your anchor, ensuring that you remained standing. 
“You want my fingers?” His lips are hot on your ear. He slips his fingers beneath your underwear, feeling just how wet you really are. It was almost too easy. “So fucking wet and warm, mmm.” He groans as he slips one finger inside of you, moving it so slowly that you began to get frustrated with the pace. Your hips rut, trying to speed up his fingers, but he holds you in place removing your ability to move.
Your body begins to tremble as he increases the pace of his finger, inserting another one and curling it, hitting the spot you ached most. You want to cum so badly; you want to soak his fingers and tremble around them. “So greedy.” He takes your ear lobe in between his teeth, nibbling gently on it before trailing his tongue down the rest of your neck. “Taking my fingers so well.”
You groaned, his words pushing you towards your climax quicker than anticipated. He could tell you close with the way you were squeezing his fingers so tightly, and the way your words were almost incoherent. As soon as your arm reached back, your fingers brushing through his hair, he pulled his fingers out of you.
“No!” You half-shrieked at the loss of contact, pulling his hair in the process. Your face blushed and eyebrows furrowed from the loss of his fingers.
“Tell me you’re mine.” He flips your body around, your back flush against the balcony railing now. The breeze continues to blow your hair around, no doubt making a mess of it.
“You tell me you’re mine.” You bite back, refusing to say it first. Charles began laughing, it reverberated in his chest. 
“Oh, mon ange.” He ignores what you say, trailing his eyes down your body. “This fucking dress.” His words are sharp as he begins gripping the ends of your dress and shoving it upwards, exposing you completely to him now. He placed a quick slap of his finger tips to your clit, the shock and sting of the slap turning you on more than you could imagine.
He pulls you forward, hands squeezing your neck, the area right under your jaw line to be more specific, lips immediately pressing against yours. There was nothing gentle about this kiss. It was hot, messy, and wet. A clashing of teeth and tongue as he sucked on your tongue. Leaving you almost no room to breathe in the process. But you didn’t mind, his kisses were intoxicating.
The firm presence of Charles’s hand on your neck persisted, the subtle pressure from the pads of his fingers inducing a dizzying effect. It was a tactile reminder of his control, a touch that left your head spinning, and wanting more. “I’ve always been yours.” He doesn’t let you respond before he’s pulling your lips back to his. This time, his fingers slip back into your heated core, assaulting and curling them just how you needed them. You breathed hotly into his mouth as your orgasm crashed over you. It was quick and hot. Charles could’ve sworn he was going to cum right in his pants at the feeling of you squeezing his fingers, coating them in you. He’s never been more jealous of his fingers in his life.
He flips you around again, fumbling with the button of his pants as he shoves them down, them falling to a pile around his ankles. He wasn’t slow, rubbing the tip of his cock through your slick folds, he teased you both for a little bit.
When he finally slipped into you, you swore you were going to cum again. You had to squeeze the railing harder to prevent yourself from doing so. You wanted to cum with him. 
“Squeezing me so well.” He moaned, the wind picking up and the only glimmer of light was from the sun barely peeping over the horizon. You couldn’t believe you were doing this, out in the open of a hotel balcony, but the thrill of it made it that much more exciting.
“Tu aimes ça, hm?” You like that? He pushes you forward so that your chest was pressed to the railing, your head dangling over the edge as you looked down from the height of the building. Everything looked so small from this height. “Want the whole world to know you’re mine.” He continues.
“Want to fill you up.” You clench hard around him, soft moans escaping your lips into the air in response. Charles couldn’t help but feel his heart pound as he muttered the next words. “Want to fill you up with my cum, want to fuck a baby into you.” 
At first, he was nervous muttering the words aloud. But the clench of your pussy around his cock only eased his nerves. Your moans increasing in volume told him just how much you liked that too.
“Merde,” Shit. You were mewling into the open air, the increase in pace of his hips had you seeing stars. 
“Are you gonna let me?”
“Yes!” You were yelling it repeatedly. His fingers crawled their way around your body, slipping into the dip in the front of your dress and pinching your nipples. He rolled your nipple between his thumb and forefinger.
“C’mon donne-le moi.” Give it to me. And boy did you. You both came with a loud cry, the sound of his hips slapping into your backside a faint noise compared to the moans. The warmth of his cum seeping into you for the second time in less than 24 hours. Although, you were on the pill, you still liked to play along with the idea of being pregnant. The idea of Charles filling you up turned you on like no other.
You both took a few seconds to recoup, trying to catch your breath. He pulled out slowly, but brought his fingers down, pushing the mixture of both of your cum back inside you. He didn’t want a single drop of it to go to waste. 
He turned you around, bringing your lips to a sweet kiss.
“Je suis désolée.” I’m sorry.  His eyes hold your own. “I should’ve said it sooner. I didn’t mean any of it, I swear. The idea of you leaving had me freaked out, you didn’t deserve any of it. You..”
A small smile graces your lips as you see how genuine he is and you lean up on your tippy toes, bringing your lips back to his. Essentially shutting him up, his hands wrap back around you, lifting you off the ground as he carries you back into the hotel room, both of you collapsing into the bed.
“Even if I got a new job, I’m still yours.” You started. “But actually, there’s this great nanny job I heard about.” Charles feels panic forming in his chest again. But you continue on, “It involves the cutest little girl ever. I also heard that the dad is so hot and cool. Did I mention he’s single?” You joke, laughter erupting between the both of you as he cradles you into his body.
“I don’t think he’s single.”
“Yeah. He definitely isn’t.”
And that was all he needed to hear.
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httpdwaekki · 4 months
Text
migraine | b.c.
summary: you were known to have pretty intense migraines but chan is there to help you feel better.
wc: 1.9k
warnings: no warnings, just pure fluff, tad bit of hurt/ comfort, sweet channie as always, and in true ashton fashion far too many petnames lmao. very lightly proofread (p.s. i am in my wolfchan lover arc, need him immediately.)
a/n: omg ashton got lost in the sauce again? * gasp* shocker! yeah this took me way too long to write but whatever. i actually don't hate this which is crazy but this is self indulgent because i get some pretty intense, nasty migraines that can last a couple days and it sucks. but if you suffer from the same thing i hope this can bring you some comfort and also i recommend a gel cap that you put in the freezer. an actual game changer, trust. anyway, i hope you enjoy! remember to eat, drink water and take your meds, ily <3
*lowercase intended*
my library
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(pictures are not mine! credit to owners!)
you had some pretty nasty migraines, no secret to you or chan. they last anywhere from a few hours to a few days and while there were things to help lessen the pain and pressure, sometimes you just had to ride it out.
this was unfortunately one of those times. now usually you would call chan as soon as you felt the first telltale sign of a migraine . this time however, you didn’t, you knew he was busy with work and didn’t want to interfere with that. but you were selfishly starting to regret that decision as everything you were doing did nothing to help.
it seemed like everything did nothing but increase the pressure in your head, spreading to your face. in a last ditch effort to get some sleep you put on some migraine music, pressed a cold compress to your eyes and pulled wolfchan to your chest.
the soft plushie smelled faintly of chan’s cologne, the only thing actually helping you relax. but it also made you miss the aussie man, wishing he was by your side, rubbing your temples, softly lulling you to sleep.
you didn’t even realize you were crying until you felt a warm tear drip down to your neck. you knew you had to calm down or you risk making everything worse but you couldn’t. you were overwhelmed by the pressure in your head and frustrated with nothing helping to release it.
you felt selfish and guilty but you knew you needed chan, you felt like you were going insane without him. hesitantly you moved the compress from your eyes, grabbing your phone.
despite the brightness being on the lowest possible setting, you felt a sharp pain behind your eye as the screen turned on. you unlocked your phone, clicking chan’s contact, you quickly typed out a message.
to channie <3 :
hi, i’m so sorry to ask but i really don’t know what else to do, i have a migraine and nothing's helping. i know you're working but is there anyway when you finish up at the studio you could come over? even for a little bit, if not i totally get it, just thought i’d ask, love you bug.
you hit send, locking your phone, placing it on the soft sheets, placing the compress back over your eyes. a few minutes passed before you felt your phone buzz beside you. you move the cold compress once more, bracing yourself for the light from your phone.
from channie <3:
can you call me jagi? i don’t want you to keep looking at your phone screen, love you too sweet girl.
you click his contact once more, hitting the little phone icon next to his name causing the calming music to stop, a loud ringing replacing it. this caused you to wince and quickly lower the volume before putting it on speaker so you could place the cooling pack back over your eyes.
it didn’t take long before he picked up. “hi my baby, what’s going on?” he asked softly.
“my head hurts,” you started, words slightly slurred. “it’s really bad channie.” you take a deep breath, trying to calm yourself down. “i’ve tried everything and nothing’s working, i don’t know what to do.” you softly cried, tears making their way down your cheeks once more.
“okay angel okay, take a deep breath, i need you to relax for me okay? i know it hurts but it’s gonna hurt worse if you’re upset.” you hear rustling in the background.
“i’m just finishing up a few things here and then i’m gonna head over, okay sweetheart?” you respond with a soft whimper, followed by a quiet, “okay.” you press the pack further into your eyes, chasing the coolness that is quickly leaving the gel filled pack.
“do you want me to stay on the phone with you till i get there?” he asks softly, packing his bag.
“yes, please.” you mumbled. “okay baby, just keep breathing and focus on me, okay? i’m gonna pick up some food on the way too, okay?” you hummed in response, rolling over, pushing the soft plushie to your cheek, breathing in the familiar scent.
“everything okay?” you hear changbin ask in the background. “yeah, y/n has a migraine, so i’m going to help her.” chan responds.
“oh no, i hope she feels better, let us know if you guys need anything.” you hear han chime in, your heart swelling at the boys concern.
“will do, thank you, i’ll see you guys later.” you hear him open the studio door making his way into the hallway.
“you still with me, jagi?” he asks softly. “yeah, i’m here.” face squished into the soft fabric. “alright sweetheart, i’m gonna mute for a bit just until i get to my car, okay?” he asks, the elevator dings in the background, signaling its arrival.
“okay.” you say sleepily. “i love you baby, i’ll be right back.” you hear him press a button in the elevator. “love you too bub.” your words slurring slightly.
after chan muted, you felt yourself slowly succumb to the exhaustion, phone positioned next to you on the sheets, wolfchan tucked safely against your cheek, you, curled up in a soft blanket .
that is exactly how chan found you about 25 minutes later as he walked in your room, the space dimly lit by the oil diffuser sitting on your bedside table. he left the take-out bags sitting on your kitchen counter, fresh compress and cold water in hand. he gently places the water on your desk, making his way over to you.
he grabs your phone, ending the call before turning off the relaxing music. he sits next to your sleeping form, gently taking the warm pack off your face. he places a kiss on your forehead before placing the fresh compress on your eyes.
you tense for a moment, before relaxing as the cold begins to relieve the tension once more. you stir awake from the sudden change in temperature. “channie?” you asked, sleep laced in your voice.
he places a hand on your hips, his thumb rubbing soothing circles to the area. “hi, my baby,” he whispers. “how are you feeling hm?” he asks, continuing the soothing motion. you move the cool pack, grabbing his free hand, in this lap, threading your fingers together before placing a kiss on the back of his.
“better now that you’re here.” you murmured, giving him a small smile. he smiled back before leaning down and placing a kiss on your forehead.
“i got you some ramen, i’m gonna go grab it for you okay?” you nodded, him standing, still keeping your hand in his. he leans down to press a soft kiss to your forehead before placing the compress back over your eyes, grabbing the warm one to put back in the freezer .
he gives your hand a light squeeze before walking away. you relax into the soft mattress below you while chan goes to grab the hot soup and some medicine just in case.
he walks in with the tray, setting it on your desk next to the cold water collecting condensation on the wood below it. he makes his way over to you, sitting next to you once again, gently lifting the pack off your eyes. “there she is,” he placed a hand on your cheek, setting the compress next to you.
“hi baby.” he smiled, softly stroking your cheek. you give him a small smile back before turning your head slightly to place a kiss to his palm. “can you sit up for me please?” you nod softly before slowly moving to lean against the wall behind you.
“careful jagi.” he whispered, quickly placing a hand behind your head. “thank you, bug.” you mumble, adjusting the pillows behind you, placing wolfchan in your lap . chan stands up once more, placing the water on the tray before bringing it over to you.
“thank you, chan, you really didn’t have to do all this.” you say, guilt creeping up on you once again. he shakes his head. “nope, none of that. i’m your boyfriend, this is my job.” he places the tray on your lap, taking his place next to you once again.
“plus, i love taking care of you. if you need me, i’m there. any time, any place, simple as that.” your heart swells, you feel a lump form in the back of your throat. “you can’t say stuff like that when i’m like this, i’ll cry.” you play with the plushie’s ears before feeling a finger lift your chin.
“i love you, and i’ll always be here for you, no matter where either of us are, okay?” he said, looking into your eyes, with nothing but love and sincerity. you nod, “i love you too.” he smilled, carefully leaning over to place a kiss on your forehead.
“now, you need to eat, i got your favorite.” he says, picking up the hot soup, opening the lid, before separating the chopsticks. he dips the wooden sticks in the soup, giving it a stir before grabbing some of the noodles.
he gently blows on the steaming noodles before offering it to you, container under it to catch any dripping soup. you giggle, “you know i can feed myself right?” he frowns, pushing the noodles and container closer to you. “eat.”
you smile before opening your mouth, accepting the food he so generously offered you. a smile made it’s way onto his face, feeding you a few more bites. he placed the container back down, chopsticks resting in the soup, before grabbing the medicine and water.
“take these.” he placed them in your hand, opening the water as you dropped the pills in your mouth. he hands you the water, watching as you greedly gulp down the cool beverage. “ how are you feeling, angel?” he asks gently.
“it still hurts but i think eating and drinking definitely helped.” you smiled, handing him the bottle. “ good, i’m glad. eat a few more bites then we’ll lay down, okay?” he says, picking up the soup once more.
you end up finishing the ramen before he grabs the tray and the now warm compress. “do you want a cold one?” he asks holding up the pack.
“yes please.” you nod slightly. “okay, get comfy, i’ll be right back jagi.” you smile laying back down as he leaves the room.
he comes back, shortly after, with a fresh compress and another bottle of water. he places the water next to your diffuser, placing the compress over your eyes. he circles the bed, climbing under the covers.
he lays down, pulling you into him, placing your head on his chest. you place your arm around his wait, hand slipping under his shirt, rubbing your thumb across his soft skin.
he brings his hand up, rubbing soft circles on your temples, placing kiss on the top of your head. “sleep jagi, we can shower when you wake up okay?’ you nod slightly against him.
“thank you, channie. i love you, more than you know.” you mumble, tightening your arms around him. “i love you too baby, i’ll always take care of you, okay?” placing one last kiss to your hair.
that’s how you stayed for the rest of the night, wrapped up in each other’s arms. the pressure in your head, slowly releasing, finally able to relax.
reblogs/feedback are appreciated! i hope you guys enjoyed!
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hxsbeens · 4 months
Text
comfort.
pairing(s): Angel Dust x gn!reader
fic contents/warnings: probably ooc Angel, reverse comfort, i rushed the ending because i didn’t know where to go from there oops, mentions of abuse and a brief mention or two about sex, Angel’s hurt
authors note: woo first work on here :D it’s alright i guess, i haven’t properly written since like september lmao. also not proofread, although my mother did read the first few paragraphs and saw a few errors so thank you mom 🫶🏽
♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡
your head was just about to hit the pillow when the door creaked open, making your head snap towards it amidst the darkness of the room. the clacking of heels signaled one’s entrance. they were careful, attempting to stay quiet as they navigated their way through the darkness.
of course, you knew who they belonged to—especially when you heard the quiet hiss followed by a hushed curse.
“Angel?”
the sound of your voice caused a suspension in those very same footsteps. you heard another silent “fuck” as the owner of the voice slowly turned to you.
“i-i’m sorry, sugar,” ANGEL DUST apologetically stammered, tightening the pink, fluffed out robe around his slender form. “i didn’t wake ya, did i? what’re you doin’ up so late?”
you slowly sat up, squinting your eyes in an attempt to see him through the dark room. “no…no, i was just about to head to sleep, actually.” you reach over towards the nightstand and turned on the web-patterned lamp, now able to get a better look at your better half. the very moment the room was lit to that extent, the spider instantly tensed and clutched his robe tighter to his fluff, blinking narrowed eyes to adjust them to the sudden lighting. from where he stood, you could easily see the parts of him he tried to conceal, for your sake.
one of his eyes were starting to bruise—though, from where you sat, it was difficult to tell whether or not it was already there. there’s a dark blue circle on his neck, one that connects to the curve of his shoulder. you couldn’t tell if it was a bruise or hickey. there were probably more, but the silk wrapped around his body covered what you couldn’t see.
your eyes didn’t linger long—you made sure they didn’t. you knew he’d hate it if you stared at him while he looked so - was so vulnerable.
instead, you lightly tossed the covers off you, throwing your legs off the side of the mattress. you and Angel looked at each other, and, silently, you extended your arms expectantly. he gave you a skeptical look. “what’re ya gettin’ at?” he inquired, and you could hear the hoarseness in his voice. it must’ve been a rough night for him…obviously.
“is it so bad that i just want to hug you right now?” you watched as he took in a breath — almost like he wanted to say something smart in return, something filled with his usual sass and wit. but he didn’t.
his fingers tightened around the fluff of his robe, and, with small, reluctant steps, Angel Dust dragged himself over to you, suddenly feeling a lot heavier than he did when he first got back.
once he stood between your arms and legs, he looked down at you, his forehead creasing with the furrow of his eyebrows. you could see the tears gathering at his bottom eyelids, even if he did try to blink them away before they became noticeable.
you were taken slightly aback when he dropped to his knees, having to spread them on the floor a bit so he was able to shove the crown of his head into your stomach. it didn’t take long for you to cradle his head, soothingly running your fingers through his fur. in kin, his upper arms wrapped around you, the ones lower reaching up to grasp your wrists. his touch desperate.
“we don’t have to talk about it, sweetie,” you whispered, feeling his upper shoulders shake slightly as he took in a sharp, trembling intake of breath. “we can just…sit here. until you’re ready for bed.”
he sobbed quietly in your arms. “im tired, [nickname].”
“i know, baby.”
“why’s it always have to be me he plays with? why can’t i ever get a break? it’s- it’s like he knows to only call me in when i’m finally fine!”
“i know.”
“why does-“
you silence him by cupping his face, lifting his head to look at you. his fur was getting wet with his tears, and his makeup ran with the streaks. he hiccuped, tensing for a moment. he was still so, so unused to the gentle treatment, especially after such a night.
you don’t say anything. you just stroke his cheeks, your thumbs running over the pink freckles over his white cheeks as you looked at each other. you smile as he slowly leaned into your touch, closing his eyes as he tried to savor the feeling of comfort once more. your hands were so warm, so familiar. they almost instantly brought him back from his head.
you pull him back in, and he holds you tighter, desperate — but in a different font of it.
“An-..” you pause, looking down at him carefully. this wasn’t Angel Dust with you, not right now, and you knew that. “Anthony?”
he’s silent. but his hoarse voice sounds from where his head is, his voice slightly muffled.
“..yeah?”
“i love you.”
“i… i love you, too, [name].”
you both sat like that for a moment; you holding and comforting him, and him embracing the affection without any comments. he wasn’t tense anymore, relaxing fully in your entrusted hold on both him, and his beaten heart. you knew he trusted you. and he knew it all the same. it was hard for him to believe, and even grasp the reality of at first, but he…sort of came to terms with it.
“i just don’t understand how someone like you could love someone as broken as me.” he once told you. and you had no doubt that he was thinking it again, right in this very moment.
you didn’t say anything about it. you wouldn’t want to bring him down again after getting him calm.
instead, you proposed, “how about we go shower? you smell like sex, and i just got these sheets washed. i don’t want our bed smelling like an asshole.”
Angel let out a little laugh at your words, finding your own distaste (or, hatred, more specifically) for his “boss” amusing. “only if you join me,” he replied, looking up at you with a smile. you smiled back. “of course. i’d be stupid not to.”
“damn right, you would.”
you laughed, and he looked at you with a love-stricken gaze. one of which you returned.
he would be alright - he knew it.
and he had you to thank for it.
♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡
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callme-darling · 4 months
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work tensions
or; you’re a prosecutor working a trial vincent is defending and your colleagues get the feeling there’s some underlying tension between the way you’re at each others throats
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word count: 3.3k
warnings: smut, like genuinely filthy shit, fem reader, hate sex (kinda), sex in the workplace (so like semi-public ig), vincent and y/n are rivals/enemies, this actually somewhat has a plot lmao, hellllaaaaa tension, so much teasing, degradation (he say slut once), cocky vincent, begging if you squint, throat holding/light choking, fingering, no protection, p-in-v, not proofread, friendly ending (bc i’m a big softie)
a/n: HAPPY VALENTINES DAY LADIES!!!! hope you enjoy🤍🤍
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you were amongst the youngest of the attorneys in the city courthouse. you were fortunate in the opportunities afforded to you, but you also worked your ass off to get where you were today. which is why you, for the life of yourself, can’t understand what the hell you did to earn the contempt of vincent renzi.
from the first time you both stood in the same courtroom, it seemed like his eyes were always set in a hard glare when they saw you. so whose to blame you for reciprocating the hostility? your colleagues usually give you well-intentioned advice to at least talk to him, something you haven’t even done outside of casework. who knows, they’d shrug, maybe it’s just ill-concealed intrigue.
you were young, but you weren’t naive enough to think the esteemed defense attorney didn’t absolutely hate your guts.
some of your colleagues, however, seemed hellbent on taking matters into their own hands after a minor scuffle that left the judge’s office suspended in a tense battle of wills. the case wasn’t even that serious—just a petty case of ‘he-said, she-said’ neighbor dispute. but the simple judge’s meeting quickly fell apart to a dispute that devolved to obviously personal jabs.
when the judge finally had enough, she dismissed both you and vincent from the room with the stern instruction to “talk out whatever issues you two obviously have, and get your shit together”.
you’re on vincent’s heels as he speeds out of the room. as soon as you hear the door click shut behind you, you’re glancing up and down the hallway. vincent runs a hand through his hair, annoyance etched across his features.
“what the hell is your problem?”
you gawk at him, “MY problem?!” you chuckle at his audacity. “you’re the one who started all this-“ you wave your hands in the space between you two like some enigmatic boundary separated you.
his tongue prodded the inside of his cheek, and a roll of his eyes had you seeing red. before you had a chance to properly rip his throat out, an older man poked his head out from another room, face stern as he recommended you find somewhere else to continue whatever dispute you deigned important enough to have a tempermental yelling match in the middle of the office.
with a noise that could only be chalked up at pure irritation, vincent began strutting down the hall. you were quick behind him, wordlessly keeping in step with his long strides. you weren’t done with your conversation, and you’ll be damned if you let him walk away now.
you were in an unfamiliar, and rather desolate, wing of the building when he spun around to face you, his face inches from yours as he ducked down slightly to glare into your eyes. “quit following me like a damn dog!”
your eyes widened before a hard scowl settled on your face. “not until you tell me what your problem with me is.” you fume, “ever since i got here, you have had some personal vendetta against me. you’re going to tell me why.”
his jaw clenched as his eyes scanned your face. “your feelings are hurt because i don’t like you, is that what this is?”
you roll your eyes. “that’s bullshit and we both know it. the truth. now.”
“i need a reason to dislike you?”
“you can make one up for all i care, but i’m tired of your attitude fucking with my job.”
he chuckles dryly, “oh, i see. that’s what this is about.”
your brows scrunch together. at your look of confusion, he takes a step closer, breath fanning your face as he whispers through tight lips, “it’s my attitude fucking with your job, hm? that’s what drives me so fucking crazy- you’re so blind.” he rubs a hand over his mouth, taking a breath before his eyes are hard set on you again. “don’t think i don’t see it—the way you’ve charmed our colleagues, how you bat your pretty little eyes at the judges to get your way-“
you cut him off, disbelief dripping from your words. “excuse me?”
he scoffs, “oh don’t be coy.”
“you know what, vincent,” you clench your fists, nails biting into your palms as they shook, “you can fuck right off.”
you go to turn and walk away, but a thought of venom penetrates your mind and you whip right back around, nearly nose-to-nose as you whisper low, “just say you’re threatened by me next time.”
you watch as something akin to rage flash across vincent’s face. he doesn’t say anything for a long moment, but his eyes bore into yours with a silent threat that chills your spine. his tone is low, dangerous. the rasp makes the hair along your arms stand on end. “i suggest you choose your next words wisely, y/n.”
maybe it was your stubbornness, or a fleeting air of confidence, but you hold his stare, your own voice quieter but just as menacing. “vincent renzi is threatened by the fresh-faced competition and can’t stand the thought that i may be the better attorney.” were you being childish in taunting him? yes, probably. but the months of tension were reaching critical mass, and whatever thoughts crossed your mind were being said.
what had just slipped through your lips, though, was definitely the wrong thing to have said.
a hand harshly grips your bicep as he drags you to the nearest room. he flicks on one set of lights and slams the door shut. he’s fuming, you note. however, you don’t fully register just how angry he is.
he’s silent for a pregnant moment, the air suffocating as he watches you with an analytical glare, his body seemed almost animalistic in how he stalked towards with with silent strides. you feel a new form of anxiety quicken your breathing.
he’s close now, so close you can smell his day-old cologne like it were freshly applied. his voice is quiet, but it makes you jolt under his intense gaze. “you want to know why i hate you so much?”
you feel as though you’re trapped in a stupor, your mind dizzy with this newfound suspense. you give him a small nod, not trusting your voice to remain firm in this intensity.
you swear you feel his lips just barely ghost over your cheek as he speaks, nearly growling in your ear. “i hate you because you’re so infuriating.” he pauses. “the way you walk around the courtroom like it’s yours to own, how you always make the most nit-picky points. and what pisses me off the most, is how i’m so attracted to you because of it.”
you were holding your breath. you felt your mind reeling as silence settled over the room. only the sound of your own breathing and the blood rushing through your veins reached your ears as you held vincent’s gaze.
his ferocity seemed to have diminished a fraction, but his jaw remained clenched. words escaped your brain as you tried to wrack together some coherent response, anything to quell the heat burning you from the inside out.
when no such words came, you decided ‘to hell with it’.
your eyes flicked to vincent’s lips, rubbed a pretty red from his hands and teeth. then you looked back into his eyes. an exchange that required no voice.
‘do it then,’ you silently dared. do it.
and so, he did.
his palm was warm on your cheek, fingers wrapping around the back of your head as he crashed his lips to yours. the force of the kiss had you stumbling back before vincent’s other hand caught your hip.
impatient. that was the best word to describe the way vincent kissed you. you tasted his lips on yours, body humming as you become acutely aware just who you’re kissing. and the mere thought has your thighs clenching together.
there was no room to speak with the way his mouth trailed down your chin, dipping into the curve of your neck. a shudder rushes through your muscles when you feel his teeth nip at the skin of your throat, eliciting a soft gasp to fall from your kiss-swollen lips.
you can feel the faint press of a grin to your collarbone. he coaxed your legs to walk back a few steps, securing your body between the table and his own.
his breath was warm as he spoke against your shoulder, “tell me to stop.” the featherlight touch of his fingers sent jolts of electricity through you as they skimmed down your arms and over your waist. “tell me you don’t want this, and i’ll let you walk out that door.”
your lungs burned when you finally released your breath. you could feel the heat pooling in your stomach, and the deep octave of his voice was doing little to soothe it. you were surprised by your own voice’s clarity, “shut up and kiss me again.”
you felt his body melt deeper into yours as your palms pulled him in by the side of his neck. you allowed yourself to be more eager, greedier, as your tongue teased his bottom lip.
he pressed his hips firmly against yours, his rasping moan nearly making you whimper in response. he was breathless when he pulled away. the pad of his thumb stroked your bottom lip, his own shining with a mixture of yours and his spit.
“i’m going to ruin you..” he murmured, leaning down again, his lips brushing over yours as his thumb holds your chin in place.
you prop your hand on the table behind you, not trusting your legs to hold you for much longer. your voice is meeker this time as you whisper against his touch, “you can try.”
vincent kisses you with an assured hunger. his touch dominating as he grips your hips, the fabric of your skirt gradually bunching in his hold. you can sense the apprehension in him, his internal battle of morals. your hand cradles the back of his head, nails stroking his scalp as you use your other to guide his hand under your blouse. blue eyes meet yours as you chide, “you don’t have to play nice with me, vincent.” the lull of his name from your lips paired with the way you brought his palm to grope at your chest, he needed no more convincing.
“such a little fuckin’ minx.” he muttered under his breath. your skirt was bunched up to your waist, your panties shoved down your legs. he had your back flat on the tabletop, hips slotted between your thighs as his eyes raked over you.
you could feel yourself slowly dripping onto the table below you, cheeks flushed with both lust and embarrassment.
vincent smirked. seeing you laid out like this, on display for him has his dick twitching in his pants. he appraised your needy pussy, a tentative two fingers teasing your folds as your thighs trembled. he watched how you grew shy, hand hovering over your mouth as you whine at the fleeting touch.
finally, you feel the pair of fingers slide into your soaking cunt. a whimper escapes you when he’s knuckle-deep in your clenching heat, the palm of his hand grazing your clit.
his gaze is attentive as he makes note of every little reaction you have to each stroke of his fingers. he bites his lip as he witnesses your eyes softly roll back when his fingers find the spot that has your chest heaving and hips shuddering. he leans down so his ear is next to your mouth, intent on hearing every single needy little whine he lures from you. he presses his lips to yours when he feels you creep up to your climax. “are you going to come on my hand?” his eyes find yours, half-lidded and glassy, and the sight alone makes him groan as his cock aches.
“is this all it takes to have you all pretty and compliant?” the teasing lilt in his voice only makes your cunt flutter around his fingers. “not so smart now when i have two fingers in this little pussy of yours, hm?”
you swear you felt like you were going to pass out. the combination of his fingers and palm against your pussy, his degrading mocking, and taunting eyes has you keening under him in a newfound desperation as you teetered precariously on the edge. so, so close to being rendered incoherent with only two fingers.
his touch leaves you.
you whine loudly, pouting as you attempt to catch your stolen breath. you move to sit up, but a large firm hand across your collarbones keeps you sprawled on the table. you squirm under his hold. “vincent.. why?” under any other circumstances, the needy pitch of your voice would’ve made you cringe, but your depravity gave you little to care about aside from satisfying your incessant lust right now.
his voice was sickeningly taunting as he cooed down at you, his other hand brushing the hair from your face. “come on, you have to work for it.”
you could feel that familiar animosity sit on your tongue, but you hold it. though, based on the sly smile looking down at you, you got the sense he could feel it too.
“how ‘bout this..” he sighs instead. his eyes trailed over your face, blue irises harboring a certain warmth that had anticipation swirling in your stomach. “if you say a simple, little sentence, i’ll give you what you want.”
you chew on your bottom lip, mulling over what was no doubt a trap. “what would you have me say?”
the way his smile widened had your pussy clenching around nothing, the cold air making you shiver. “i want you to say: ‘only vincent renzi can make my pussy this wet’.
“oh fuck y-“
his hand catches your jaw before you could finish your crude remark. his fingers lightly dig into your cheeks as he comes nose-to-nose with you. his voice is dangerously low but a softness keeps to the edges. “would you rather me leave you here, like this? your pussy is practically weeping.” as if to reinforce his words, a hand lightly slaps against your folds. the wet sound had your face turning a new shade of red, lips pouting as his other hand still holds your face close to his.
you don’t say anything, internally battling with yourself. the tip of vincent’s tongue pokes out to wet his lips, your eyes following the minute movement with bated breaths. then his soft voice buzzes in your ear. “c’mon.. just say how i make you drip like a needy slut. let me hear that pretty voice of yours, the one you like to use so much.”
you felt a whine croak in your throat as the hand between your thighs gave your clit another tap. “i’ll give you three seconds.” his low tone warned.
“three..”
you felt your breath stutter, eyes searching his. there’s no way he’s serious.
“two..”
he wouldn’t actually leave you like this, would he?”
“on-“
“okay.” you cut him off, words rushed as you grip the wrist of the hand holding your face.
he peers down at you expectantly. the corner of his lips upturned slightly, and you hated how attractive it was.
“only vincent can make me this wet..” he’s never seen you so timid and meek than in that moment, something that only added to the building heat of the room.
“now, was that so hard?” he quirked a brow, fingers playing with your aching cunt as he notes the way your slick soaks his palm. “you’ve done your part, so be a good girl and take what i give you, yeah?”
you nod dumbly as his hand drops from your jaw. your body felt like it was buzzing, heart hammering in your chest as you watched him fumble with his pants, pulling his leather belt off with one hand.
he plants a searing kiss to your lips, a trained dominance permeating his movements. you moan against him, hips twitching as his pants brush against your bare core. a hand slides between your bodies to free his leaking cock from his slacks. you swallow any sounds he makes as his hand strokes his dick a few times. “you got to stay quiet. think you can handle that?”
you ignore the obvious taunt, hand on the back of his neck as you pull at the ends of his hair. “just fuck me already, vince.”
he chuckles dryly, but you sense the anticipation crawling under his skin. next time, you’ll be the one making him beg.
a drawn out gasp fills the room as you feel him slowly begin to sink into your tight heat. fuck, you felt dizzy as your cunt pulsed, sucking him in deeper.
you both moan in with quiet sighs when he bottoms out. he starts slow, but eventually finds a rhythm that has you whining with each thrust, your whimpers gradually growing in volume as his thumb toyed with your sore clit. he curses under his breath, a large hand gripping the sides of your throat.
his voice was labored but firm, “you want the entire firm to hear how you sound with my dick in you? be quiet.” he warns again.
you try, you really do. your hand is over your mouth, eyes watering with unshed tears as his pace quickens. your other hand flies to his shoulder, nails biting into his shirt in a silent plea. his voice floats back to you. “but staying quiet was never your strong suit, was it?”
“fuck, oh shit-“ you whimper, eyes screwing shut when you feel the start of your orgasm wrack through you. “vincent, please, oh-“ your eyes fluttered as his grip around your neck tightened a fraction.
“i told you, you would eventually start begging.”
you can barely hear him over the erratic pulsing in your ears. your entire body tenses, cunt clenching around his dick like a vice. he hisses above you, teeth gritted as he watches you come undone.
he pulls out of you, stroking himself a few more times before he’s coming on your pussy and thighs.
you lay on the table, breathing hard as you come down from the orgasmic high. you stare at vincent who’s already watching you, breaths sharing a calming rhythm. when you feel more like yourself, you start to sit up. he hands you a box of tissues, eyes daring to glance at the mess he made on you.
you attempt to straighten your blouse, the collar of which looks as though it had gone through a windstorm. your eyes scan the floor for your panties.
vincent’s palm offers the small ball of satin into your fingers. your gaze catches his as he suppresses a grin. “wouldn’t want to be caught without these, would you?”
you glare at him, though it’s void of the usual hostility. you finish straightening your clothes, blouse retucked into your smoothed-out skirt. you turn back to vincent who’s been put back together for a couple minutes already, leaning against the wall idly.
your mind screamed at you to fill the silence, to say something to settle the oncoming disquiet.
to your surprise, it was vincent who broke the silence first. “who would have thought that this is something you’re into?” his eyes appraised you again. there was no adversity in his jest, only a gentle prodding.
“you can’t say that like you didn’t just fuck me the same.”
he nods, toothy grin starting to crack through his lips. you can see the way his fingers twitch, itching to hold a cigarette between them.
“want a smoke?” you offer, testing the waters.
his eyes catch yours, and he holds your gaze for a moment. then the first genuine, true smile you’ve seen from him is directed at you.
“i’d like that, yes.”
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heartdiluc · 11 months
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genshin men + does he hold your hand during sex?
cw: explicit nsfw, sub gn reader, kinda out of character (im delulu), pet names (pretty, darling, ect.) drabble format + not proofread lmao, penetrative sex, rough sex, slight size k!nk.
⚠️ read dni info before proceeding !!
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he wraps a hand around your wrists to pin them down against you. he just can’t hold himself back from manhandling you however he likes, folding you into whatever position that allows him to fuck you harder. he thinks you look so good getting ruined by him. he holds your hands down, not only because he adores seeing how small your hands are compared to his, but also to keep you in place. “stay still for me, pretty.” he groans out before pushing his cock completely into you. he holds your wrists with just one of his hands. “that’s it… taking me so well”
kaeya, childe, itto, wanderer, tighnari, capitano, alhaitham
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he intertwines his hand with yours <3 his hips move languidly but his cock hits so deep with each thrust, making your head spin and eyes start to blur with tears. you moan his name and spew incoherent gratification. he can’t help but smile at how easily he has you coming undone at his whim. “you’re fucking addicting. just so perfect for me,” he mutters to you before he pressing sporadic kisses to your face, wiping away any tears, mumbling out ‘i love you’s while he interlocks his hands with yours. this loving and gentle gesture completely contradicts how hard he’s fucking you.
diluc, baizhu, kaeya (again), thoma, kaveh
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he’d rather leave your hands free so he can see you clawing at his back or gripping his bedding. he can’t help but pride himself when you’re grabbing onto anything to stabilize yourself just because he’s fucking you so well. if he isn’t waking up with scratch marks across his back and seeing your legs shaking, he thinks he didn’t fuck you hard enough. “you look so cute getting fucked dumb like this— damn,” he grunts. he can feel his high coming up again and he’s losing any small piece of composure he had left, wanting nothing more but to hear you cry his name.
dottore, zhongli, pantalone, cyno, scaramouche
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1K notes · View notes