#flutter interview answers | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

urprettylildoe · 3 months ago

Text

𝒮𝒽𝒶𝒸𝓀𝓁ℯ𝒹

♡ yandere football player x fem reader ♡ Every girl wanted to be with him and every guy wanted to be him, and to everyone around the world he was considered the embodiment of perfection. But there's more to what meets the eye, and you're one of the only people who know that very well. ♡ word count: 1.9k words ♡ warnings: yandere/obsessive behaviour, dependency, toxic relationship, kidnapping, attempted drugging, very brief and implied self-harm, nsfw (non-con)

His team had won yet again.

Critics weren't just analysing the performance itself but one particular figure that always made his presence known; whether it was deliberate or natural.

Looks, money, charisma, talent; what characteristic didn't the renowned football star possess?

Blake's motivator was his love for things that kept him on his toes and sent a rush of excitement through his veins.

The constant chanting of his name from the crowds was like music to his ears. He waved and shot them a pretty smile adorned with dimples that would surely make magazine covers.

Cameras zoomed in on each of the team players as they walked out of the field. Pushing the hair out of his eyes, he stared into the camera.

The world out there didn't know that it was reserved for one particular person, and they knew who they were.

A message.

I know you're watching.

♡

"And how do you feel about today's performance?" The lady smiled almost too brightly, holding the microphone up towards him.

"I think we gave it our all today and I couldn't have done without my team," he enthusiastically recited as if he hadn't been practising with his manager for the perfect PR response to the questions. Blake was a natural in front of the camera — he threw in some jokes and made sure to flash those pearly whites every now and then.

The interviewer chuckled, "Oh please, don't be so modest. You were amazing out there, Blake. Give yourself some credit, will ya?"

A few more minutes passed with them going back and forth before he was finally asked million dollar question:

"so, we're all dying to know, any relationship updates we should be aware of?"

For a split second, his flawless facade cracked and his smile faltered, his jaw ticking with something unpleasant. Then, almost as if nothing happened, his expression turned carefully neutral and he maintained a polite smile, "my personal life is just that, personal."

Translation: i'm not answering that. In any other situation, he'd have no problem saying it directly, but he'd rather not listen to his agent talking his ear off about it later.

But the woman obviously did not pick up on the implication and if she did, she didn't mention it. Instead, she leaned in and brushed her hand against his bicep at an attempt of subtle flirting, "Oh, come on. You're one of the most eligible bachelors in the country. Surely there's someone special in your life?"

He feigned embarrassment rather than expressing his anger and scratched the back of his head, "you're really putting me on the spot here." He paused, then added, "i'm just focused on my career at the moment. And as they say, good things come to those who wait, right?"

His answer shut the interviewer down and the last line did have some truth to it. Patience is a virtue.

♡

Pushing the bathroom door open, his hands gripped one of the sinks and he took a moment to calm his nerves.

They don't know. They don't know. It's okay.

His gaze dropped to the scar marring his otherwise perfect skin in the mirror, right under his bottom lip. Yet, instead of frustration like his manager had expressed with utter disappointment, warmth he was all too familiar with fluttered in his chest.

This was no burden, but a gift from his favourite little songbird after one of her many tantrums of be let out of the golden cage. Though it is a hassle to calm her back down, he did cherish the mark imprinted on his skin.

Blake tutted, eyes narrowing as he scrutinised it further. It was fading; he'll need to fix that up soon enough.

He shrugged on a jacket and drove home in his sleek car, ready to finally relax. The day drained him of all his energy.

Or perhaps it didn't, because when he reached his home, all of the anger bubbled up to the surface. Patience was not a virtue, because his had reached its limit because of a certain dove.

♡

Tonight was the night.

The night where you would finally be free of the shackles that bound you to that horrible, horrible man.

Blake.

To his fans and the world, he's a passionate and talented athlete. To you? He's a monster. One that stripped you off everything you've known, one that kept you for his selfish desires, one that held a warped version of 'love' in his heart.

You wanted to flee. Not even tell the police, just run far, far away where he couldn't reach you, where you would be your own person and not some pretty ornament he'd come home to admire every day.

Sanity hanging by a thread, you slipped down the marble stairs in just your socks and cute pajamas. Any captive should have injuries and tattered clothes. Except, your captor wasn't normal. And while you didn't have any physical injuries, you were still hurt.

You were supposed to be asleep, if everything went according to his plan (which usually did). The opportunity was too good to pass up; he was leaving for a match for hours. When he had given you the pill with a fond smile, you returned it and made an act of swallowing, all while keeping it under your tongue. The doors were locked due to his paranoia so you couldn't escape through there. Not to mention your hands and feet were tied, so you spent time on those too.

Finally, the makeshift rope was ready. Hours of twisting bedsheets together finally paid off and now you were ready.

One look out the window and you were already nauseous. It was such a high drop and you weren't willing to die, not yet at least. The rope tumbled down till it nearly reached the bottom, only a few feet off the garden grounds.

In and out. Nothing is going to happen.

Wrapping your limbs around the clothing, your hands clenched around it. Your eyes closed and you let yourself slide. Breathing fresh air felt true bliss, like this was your first time.

When you reached the bottom, your knees trembled with the gravity of what's going on. The closest thing you let out to a relieved sigh was a choked sound out of your throat.

You were free. You. Were. Free.

No more punishments, no more suffering, no more of his constricting love, no more-

maniacal laughter rings through the air sharply, making you halt. No.

You'd recognise it anywhere, even if you didn't want to.

"Wow, I leave for a few hours and come back to this?" He wiped a tear from the corner of his eye in amusement, though you caught a vein in his forehead throbbing. "You surprise me every time, baby. Though I gotta admit i'm a little...hurt."

Your heart stopped and you took a step back, whipping around to face him. Such beauty he had, but so undeserving of it. Your nails had dug blood out of your palms, making them dully ache however not as deep as his confessions of 'love' would pierce your heart.

He didn't have nothing in that chest but rotting flesh.

"Now, now, none of that." He grinned as he followed your steps with his longer, stronger legs and you could only pray that he showed mercy. "You really didn't think you'd get away, did you? You truly do underestimate the lengths I'd go for you.

I give you the most beautiful home, the finest foods — my love. And this is how you repay? By running away from me? From us?"

His voice progressively got louder with each word. You really pushed him to the limits.

"I-I'm sorry-"

Cutting you off, large hands shaky with barely concealed raged cluched either sides of your head, "shh, I know you are. But sorry isn't enough anymore."

It wasn't a normal, torturous kind of punishment — no, you wished it was. You wondered if falling from the window was a better fate than this.

His voice softened at your sniffles, almost as if he was comforting you, shielding from a danger that nothing seemed to poise but him. "Hey, hey, don't cry. C'mon, my dove. If you're good, I won't go too hard on you."

Cries spilled past your lips, begging him that you were sorry and that you weren't going to do it again.

And really, you were never going to. Not after what he did to you afterwards.

You were reduced to a small ball to shivers and hiccups underneath Blake on the soft, fluid-stained sheets. The pink sleepwear was discarded on the floor. Equally bare, his muscles from all the training were on display. He was now beaming affectionately as he watched your tuckered out expression.

This wasn't the first time you've been violated, obviously. But this time it felt worse, like the pain of reality came crashing down on you like a tsunami ten times harder than before. It didn't help that he kept on whispering sweet threats in your ear.

He had branded your skin roughly and taken you, only to cradle you gently with a lover's touch. The drug he had injected you with made you a willing participant in his game, made you ache with desire for the one being you wanted to hate.

You slurred like a broken record, unsure of what was even going on anymore, "m'sorry, I didn't mean to...hic"

"It's okay, it's okay" he sang softly, brushing your sweaty hair out of your eyes, "y'know punishing you hurts me more than it does you, but I had to do this, you were trying to leave me, sweet thing."

A small, hidden part of you still wanted to fight for your freedom, to save yourself.

"you're so silly, thinking anyone would believe you if you ran away." He cooed, peppering loving kisses all over your face.

You closed your eyes and weakly whimpered. They would believe you, they would. Wouldn't they?

"Sometimes, the thoughts become too much for that pretty little head, don't they? You can't possible take all of it at once. But that's why i'm here. To protect you from every bad thing in the world."

His hand cupped your cheek as he tilted his head down, pressing his lips against your forehead, "I'll give you the world. Just — promise not to leave me again"

The sentences tumbling out his mouth just made you feel even more horrible.

You were broken. You had tried to convince yourself otherwise, but it was all in vain. He had shattered you into pieces and rebuilt you to fit his preferences. If you looked into the mirror right now, you don't think you would recognise yourself.

Maybe he was right. Maybe you weren't cut out for the world, maybe there were dangerous things out to get you, maybe safety was in his arms.

"Rest, i'll take care of you"

You let your eyes droop shut. Yeah, that sounded about right. He'll take care of you.

Once you finally nestled against the comfort of his chest with tiny snores, was he finally able to celebrate another accomplishment. He can't remember the last time he didn't have something he wanted, even if his beautiful dove was putting up a fight against him.

♡

Yours truly,

@urprettylildoe

2K notes · View notes

moonlightwritingf1 · 3 months ago

Text

Starved | LN4

𓂃۶ৎ summary ━━━━━━━ After three weeks apart, Y/N and Lando finally reunite in a frenzy of teasing, need, and uncontrollable desire. He tries to pace himself, to savor every second, but she knows exactly how to make him come—whispering filthy words, dragging her nails down his back, squeezing around him just right. Lando, breathless and wrecked, gives in completely, fucking her like he’s been starving for it, like he needs to make up for every second they’ve spent apart.

𓂃۶ৎ pairing ━━━━━━━ Lando Norris x she!reader

𓂃۶ৎ word count ━━━━━━━ 6.7k

𓂃۶ৎ warnings ━━━━━━━ +18, sexual content, p in v, unprotected sex, dirty talk, teasing, double creampie?

Based on this request.

The front door swung open with a creak, and before Y/N could fully register the rush of excitement coursing through her, Lando was already there—bag in hand, hair messy from travel, his eyes lit with an almost fervent need. The energy in her apartment shifted the moment he stepped inside. It was late, nearly midnight, and the city hummed quietly outside the windows. Y/N’s heart stuttered at the sight of him.

He set his luggage against the wall and straightened, looking at her with that hungry, burning gaze he’d worn ever since their early days of flirting. The difference now, after a year of dating, was that the tension was more intense than ever. Distance had stretched the longing between them like a tight elastic band—and it threatened to snap the second they touched.

Y/N stood barefoot in her cozy living room, wearing a pair of snug sweatpants and a slightly oversized hoodie. There was something about how Lando looked at her, even in that mundane outfit, that sparked an electric current across her skin. He seemed to devour her with his eyes.

His voice came out as a quiet rasp. “You have no idea how much I’ve missed you.”

She offered a slow, teasing smile and let her eyes drag along the planes of his face. “Oh, I think I might have an idea,” she teased, a little smirk curling her lips. “You look half-crazed with desperation.”

“Desperate doesn’t even begin to cover it,” he breathed. The weight of his stare lingered, unapologetically roaming over her body.

She gestured him closer, but deliberately inched backward, coaxing him to follow. Ever since they’d gotten together, she’d found a sort of magnetic pleasure in making him chase her. Lando always went along with it too—like he craved the thrill of being pulled right to her edge and then reeled back in slowly.

He dropped his coat on a nearby chair and caught her wrist gently, thumbing over her pulse. It was racing, and his grip tightened the slightest bit as he leaned in.

Her breath fluttered. “You could’ve at least pretended not to have missed me too much,” she teased, as he began planting soft kisses along her jawline.

He gave a low chuckle against her skin. “Trust me, I’ve done enough pretending on camera. Smiling for the fans, interviews, media days. But thinking of you was… dangerous.” He exhaled, warm breath ghosting over her ear. “I kept picturing your face, remembering the way you tease me, the way you say my name in that stubborn little tone you’ve perfected. It drove me mad.”

She practically purred at his confession. “So you want me to make it up to you, then?”

“Every day. Every hour. Right now,” he replied, tone edging on a plea. His lips found hers in a slow, sensual kiss that carried weeks of pent-up desire.

A needy hum slipped from Y/N’s mouth. He tasted faintly of mint gum, and the edges of his lips cracked into a half-smile as they kissed, like he found it strangely amusing to be so utterly at her mercy. When they finally pulled back, both were breathing hard.

“Missed me that bad, huh?” she whispered, nibbling her bottom lip in that way she knew drove him crazy.

Lando groaned softly. “You love torturing me, don’t you?”

She only answered with an impish grin. “Possibly.”

His chest tightened at that playful spark in her eyes. “But we have to move this somewhere else,” he murmured, glancing pointedly at the couch, then the door leading to the bedroom. The effort to remain calm was evident. His voice, though laced with need, carried a distinct note of self-control.

She raised a brow. “Feeling impatient already? Big day tomorrow?” Her playful tone jabbed at him.

“Y/N,” he murmured, pressing the syllables of her name slowly. “It’s been weeks since I last saw you—properly. I’ve had to settle for phone calls, FaceTimes…not enough.”

Her heart throbbed with sympathy and arousal all at once. He reached for her waist, but she sidestepped him in the smallest, most maddening way, letting his fingers slip over her hip without fully connecting. Then she turned and started walking toward the bedroom, tossing a glance over her shoulder.

“Come on then,” she invited, voice laced with teasing.

He tried to hide how quickly he was following, how urgent his strides were. The bedroom light was dim, a warm glow casting shadows on the walls. Y/N pulled off her hoodie and tossed it onto the chair in the corner. Underneath, she wore a simple cropped tank top that hinted at the curves Lando knew all too well. He swallowed hard.

She gave him an unhurried once-over. The crisp T-shirt and jeans he wore clung just right. His shoulders seemed broader than the last time she’d seen him in person, a testament to relentless training, and it made her mouth go dry with anticipation.

He strode closer. “You’re about to kill me,” he muttered against her lips, hooking a finger under her chin to bring her face back up to his.

She let out a low laugh. “You’re so dramatic,” she teased, eyes dancing with mischief.

He brushed his mouth over hers. His hands found the hem of her tank top, lifting it slowly. Skin against skin, everything was scorching—like her body remembered the heat of him. As the soft fabric slid up, goosebumps rippled over her arms. He paused just before fully removing it, his thumbs circling the sides of her waist in a torturously gentle motion.

“That’s because I am,” he whispered, catching her gaze. “I’m lovesick, and I’m about to break if you don’t let me have you right now.”

Her cheeks flushed with pleasure at his words. She let her arms rise, letting him tug the tank top off fully. Once discarded, her bare skin was exposed to the gentle glow of the lamp, and Lando’s eyes roamed over her with a reverence that made her pulse hammer.

He captured her lips again, deeper this time, and she hummed into his mouth. As his fingertips drifted up her ribs, she arched just enough to let him know she wanted his touch. But something in how he was moving felt restrained, cautious—and she understood why. He’d hinted at it more than once over their late-night calls—his voice low, edged with need. After weeks apart, he was afraid he’d barely last, that the moment he finally had her beneath him, wrapped around him, he’d come undone too fast.

When she slipped her hand over the front of his jeans, he inhaled sharply, body going rigid under her palm. “Careful,” he rasped, exhaling through clenched teeth. “I’m on a fragile edge, princess.”

“Princess?” she echoed with a low laugh, leaning up to nibble gently at his jaw. “That’s new. I like it.”

He let out a strangled chuckle. “You can make fun of me all you want, but you’re not helping my… self-control.”

Her lips curved into a dangerous smile. “Who says I want to help that?”

His breath hitched again as her hand roamed lower. She was only half-teasing, but the effect on him was immediate. He tried to focus on reigning in the rush of sensations. He was determined not to finish in what he jokingly referred to as “three strokes and a heartbreak.” Still, the desperation in him built. Every inch of him blazed as if starved for her.

“You’re absolutely lethal,” he breathed, capturing her mouth in a series of hungry kisses. He struggled to keep them slow, to drag them out when all he truly wanted was to lose himself.

Her responses were equally heated, equally needy. Her fingernails grazed lightly across his chest as she pulled his T-shirt up. She wanted every second of this, yet found a thrill in matching his struggle—knowing he was hoovering on the brink, but wanting to draw it out, to savor every moment of this union that they’d both waited far too long for.

He moaned quietly into her mouth when she slid his jeans down over his hips, grazing the sensitive skin just above the waistband of his boxers. “I need you,” he whispered, a raw edge to his tone. “But I’m trying to—God, I’m trying not to—”

She silenced him with another kiss, swallowing his groan. “Shh, you’re fine,” she reassured softly. There was a gentle tease in her voice, but also a note of real affection. She loved that he cared so much about not rushing, about savoring every touch.

She reached behind herself, letting her sweatpants slip off. Lando couldn’t help but stare, throat bobbing, voice strangled with desire. “You’re perfect,” he managed to say.

She gave him a look that was warm and amused. “You always say that.”

“Because it’s always true.”

He trailed his hands along her waist, fingertips pressing into flesh that was already sensitive under his touch. Their kisses became a frantic dance of tongues and whispers. Her hand crept around his neck, and she guided him onto the bed, pushing him gently until he was lying back against the pillows.

Climbing on top of him, she leaned down, hair falling like a curtain around their faces. “Lando?” she murmured, voice honeyed with both affection and playfulness.

“Yeah?” His hands settled on her hips, kneading softly.

“You realize how adorable you are when you’re this desperate?” she teased, a mischievous spark lighting her gaze.

He let out a mock groan of frustration. “Adorable is not the vibe I’m going for,” he mumbled, though a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.

“Fine,” she relented with a smirk of her own. “How about ‘hot as hell’ then?”

“That’s more like it.” He lifted his head enough to catch her mouth with his, losing himself momentarily in the sweetness of her lips. But the moment she straddled him, the heat of her pussy pressing along the rigid length of his cock, his breath hitched—sharp and unsteady. He gasped, tilting his head back against the pillow before dragging his eyes to hers, voice raw with desperation. “Sorry,” he panted. “Give me—give me a second.”

She stroked his cheek with unexpected tenderness. “We have all night,” she murmured, though her own voice shook with barely contained desire. “No need to rush.”

A shaky laugh escaped him. “Easy for you to say.”

She braced her hands on his shoulders, feeling the tense muscle beneath. “Let me take the lead for a bit, hmm?” Her tone was simultaneously soothing and heavy with suggestion.

His eyes fluttered shut at the mere offer, a shiver of anticipation running through him. “God, yes,” he whispered.

Y/N trailed slow, open-mouthed kisses along the column of his neck, down to his chest. The soft sighs escaping him fueled her confidence. She used the tip of her tongue to trace small patterns, peppering each touch with a light graze of her teeth. Meanwhile, his hands remained at her hips, occasionally gripping, occasionally loosening, as if he couldn’t decide whether to let go or hold on tight.

Every breath he took sounded labored. She could practically feel his heart pounding against her palm when she slid her hand across his chest. “You okay down there?” she teased.

He swallowed, eyes fluttering open to find hers. “Just struggling to hold back a bit,” he admitted with a self-conscious grin. “Last thing I want is to pass out from excitement.”

Her laugh was low and husky, dripping with wicked intent. She leaned in, pressing her lips against his ear, her breath hot and teasing as she whispered,

“You know, I was gonna be good tonight… but then I felt how fucking hard you are for me, and now all I can think about is how deep I can take you down my throat before you start begging me to breathe.”

Lando let out a sharp, ragged exhale, his hands gripping her hips like they were the only thing keeping him grounded. She smirked, letting her nails scrape down his chest before sliding back up to his throat, her fingers curling just enough to make his Adam’s apple bob.

“And you keep saying you’ll finish too fast,” she went on, voice syrupy and sweet, “but baby, I want you to. I wanna feel you lose control, make a mess of me, then get hard again while I’m still licking your come off my lips.”

His whole body shuddered beneath her, his head pressing back into the pillows as he let out a strangled groan. She grinned, shifting her hips just enough to drag her soaked pussy along the length of his cock, the sensation making him curse under his breath.

“What’s wrong, baby?” she cooed, tilting her head mockingly. “Don’t tell me I’ve got you speechless already. We haven’t even gotten to the part where I bend over and spread myself open for you… or where I make you watch while I play with myself, nice and slow, until you’re desperate enough to shove me down and fuck me stupid.”

Lando’s grip on her tightened—hard enough to bruise. His breath was ragged, his jaw clenched, and when he finally looked up at her, his eyes were dark, blown wide with lust.

“You think you’re in control, don’t you?” His voice was hoarse, shaking with restraint.

She smirked, leaning down until their lips were just barely touching. “I know I am.”

She decided to ease the tension a bit and murmured dirty jokes in his ear, half-laughing between each whisper, making him grin and groan all at once. The more she joked, the more he relaxed, letting himself smile even as raw need clawed at him from the inside.

Eventually, she guided him to switch positions, rolling him gently so she was beneath him. He braced himself on his forearms, pressing his forehead to hers. His breathing was ragged. “Y/N, I swear I’m trying to play it cool.”

Her lips brushed his earlobe. “Then don’t,” she whispered. “Just be with me.”

He swallowed thickly. “But I want this to last.”

“It will,” she promised, skimming her fingertips over his back.

Lando’s breath hitched as he positioned himself between her thighs, his eyes dark with hunger and restraint. His hands trembled slightly as he guided himself to her entrance, the tip of his cock brushing against her wet heat. With a slow, deliberate movement, he pushed into her, burying himself to the hilt in one agonizingly perfect stroke. A deep, guttural groan escaped his lips, muffled against the curve of her neck. “Fuck, you feel incredible,” he rasped, his voice thick with need.

He withdrew almost completely, his cock slick with her arousal, before sinking back in at a torturously slow pace. Every inch of him seemed to strain with the effort to maintain control. His hips rolled against hers in a rhythm that was both maddening and mesmerizing, each thrust deeper than the last. His fingers dug into the sheets on either side of her head as he fought to keep the rhythm steady, his breath hot and ragged against her skin.

“Lando,” she gasped, her hands sliding up his arms to his shoulders, feeling the tension in his muscles. He groaned again, his forehead pressing into hers as he continued to move with that same slow, deliberate pace. “You’re killing me,” he whispered, his voice trembling with restraint. “I can’t—fuck, I can’t go any faster or I’ll lose it.”

He paused mid-thrust, his body still buried deep inside her, his forehead resting heavily against hers. His chest heaved with labored breaths, his eyes closed as he struggled to regain his composure. “I need to slow down,” he panted, his voice barely audible. “If I don’t, this is gonna be over before I get to ruin you properly.”

Her hands drifted down to his abdomen, her fingertips brushing over the taut, trembling muscles there. She could feel the way his abs contracted with every shaky breath, the way his body fought against the overwhelming urge to lose control. “You’re doing so well,” she murmured, her voice soft and encouraging. Her nails raked lightly over his skin, and he hissed through clenched teeth, a curse slipping from his lips.

“You—that’s not helping,” he growled, his hips twitching involuntarily. He pulled out completely, his hands gripping the base of his cock as he fought to hold back the tide of pleasure threatening to overwhelm him. His breath came in sharp, uneven gasps, his eyes squeezed shut as he whispered, “I need a second, or I swear—”

She reached up to cradle his face, her thumbs brushing over his cheeks as she kissed him softly. “Take your time,” she whispered against his lips. “I’m not going anywhere.”

He let out a shaky laugh, his forehead resting against hers once more. “You’re gonna be the death of me,” he murmured, his voice tinged with both desperation and affection. “But fuck, what a way to go.”

Lando’s body shuddered as he guided himself back inside her, the heat of her slick walls wrapping around him like a intoxicating squeeze. His breath hitched, and his hands trembled where they braced on either side of her head. “Fuck, you’re gonna be the death of me,” he groaned, his voice raw and strained as he sunk in inch by torturous inch. She clenched around him instinctively, and he let out a sharp, breathless curse, his hips jerking forward involuntarily. “Jesus—Y/N, please—” he rasped, his forehead pressing against hers as his body fought to stay in control.

His lips brushed her temple, his warm breath ghosting over her skin as he whispered, his voice wrecked and trembling with need. “I thought about this every night—about being buried inside you, feeling you squeeze me like this. You’re unreal, sweetheart.” Each word was a desperate confession, his voice breaking slightly as he spoke. His hips moved in slow, deliberate thrusts, the rhythm faltering as he struggled to keep his composure.

He dragged his lips down to her collarbone, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses along the sensitive skin. His breath was ragged, his movements careful and measured as he tried to focus on her instead of the overwhelming pressure building inside him. His tongue traced a path along her collarbone, his lips pressing firm and insistent, as if trying to anchor himself in the feel of her body beneath him. “You’re too good,” he muttered against her skin, his voice muffled and strained. “Too fucking perfect.”

Y/N tightened around him deliberately, her walls pulsing in slow, rhythmic clenches that made his hips stutter. He groaned, a low, guttural sound that tore from his throat. “Fuck—Y/N, don’t—” he begged, his hands gripping the sheets tightly as he fought to hold on. But she didn’t stop, milking him with every pulse, and he let out a strangled curse, pulling out of her completely before he could lose control. His chest heaved, his body trembling with the effort to calm down.

But it didn’t last long. With a shaky breath, he guided himself back inside her, his thrusts slow and deep once more. His lips found her throat, and he mumbled against her skin, his voice hoarse and broken. “Fuck, fuck, fuck—” The repeated curse spilled from his lips like a prayer, his grip on her tightening as he struggled to keep his rhythm steady.

His eyes stayed locked on her face, watching the way her lips parted with every thrust, the way her brows knit together in pleasure. It was nearly enough to undo him completely. He groaned, his voice breaking mid-moan as she clenched around him unexpectedly. “Fuck—Y/N,” he gasped, the sound desperate and breathless, his hips jerking forward as he lost himself in the sensation for a moment.

Then he let out a shaky laugh, his forehead resting against hers as he tried to catch his breath. “You—fuck—you’ve got me completely fucked up, you know that?” His voice was tinged with both desperation and affection, his hands trembling as they brushed her hair back from her face. “But I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Her nails dug into his back as she arched against him, her body practically vibrating with need. God, he was teasing her, not fucking her properly, and it was driving her insane. Every slow, deliberate thrust of his cock inside her was sending waves of pleasure rippling through her, but it wasn’t enough. She wanted him to lose control, to give in to the raw, primal need she could feel simmering just beneath his carefully maintained restraint.

Her hips rolled against his, trying to coax him into a faster pace, but he only groaned, his forehead pressing against hers as he fought to keep his movements slow and steady. "Lando, please," she whimpered, her voice breaking as her fingers tangled in his hair. "I need more. I need you to fuck me properly."

He let out a shaky laugh, his breath hot against her lips. "Sweetheart, if I start fucking you the way you want me to, I’m not gonna last," he admitted, his voice hoarse. "You feel too fucking good."

She clenched around him deliberately, feeling him shudder against her as a moan tore from his throat. "Then don’t last," she urged, her voice a desperate plea. "Let go. I want to feel you come undone inside me."

His hips stuttered, and he let out a strangled curse, pulling out of her completely as he fought to regain control. His chest heaved, his body trembling with the effort to calm down, but the look in his eyes was pure, unadulterated desire. "You’re gonna be the death of me," he muttered, his voice thick with need.

"And you love it," she shot back, a wicked grin spreading across her lips as she reached for him, pulling him back down to her. Her body was on fire, every nerve ending screaming for more, and she wasn’t about to let him stop until he gave her exactly what she wanted.

He slid into her again, the thick length of his cock stretching her in the most delicious way. For her, the sensation was overwhelming—a perfect balance of fullness and heat, every nerve in her pussy lighting up as he buried himself to the hilt. He felt like he belonged there, like her body had been made to take him, and the ache of needing more only grew as he stayed still inside her. For him, it was pure torture. The velvety tightness of her walls clung to him, hot and wet, and he had to grit his teeth to keep from thrusting. His cock throbbed, desperate for release, and every second he stayed buried in her without moving felt like both heaven and hell.

Her lips found his in a soft, tender kiss, her tongue brushing against his in a slow, teasing rhythm. Just as the kiss deepened, she squeezed around him deliberately, her walls pulsing in a tight, irresistible grip. He groaned into her mouth, his control slipping as his hips jerked involuntarily. “God, Y/N,” he gasped, pulling back just enough to look at her, his eyes dark and desperate. “You’re trying to ruin me, aren’t you?”

She smirked, her lips swollen from his kisses. “Move, Lando,” she begged, her voice breathless and pleading. “Please. I need you to fuck me. I can’t take this anymore.” Her hands gripped his shoulders, nails digging into his skin as she arched against him, trying to coax him into motion. But he was determined to hold out, to savor every second, even if it was killing him.

She pressed her hips back against him, trying to force him to move, but he stopped her with a firm grip on her waist. “Patience, princess,” he murmured, his voice strained but teasing. Then he began to move again, slowly at first, each thrust deliberate and deep. The drag of his cock inside her was agonizingly perfect, the friction sending sparks of pleasure through her entire body. He groaned, his forehead pressing against hers as he fought to keep the pace steady.

But she wasn’t about to let him win. Just as he found a rhythm, she pulsed around him again, her walls fluttering in a way that made him falter. His thrusts became erratic, his control crumbling as he let out a low, guttural curse. “Fuck, Y/N,” he growled, his voice trembling with need. “You’re making this impossible.”

She grinned, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Good,” she whispered, her voice dripping with wicked intent. “I want you to lose control. I want to feel you come inside me, Lando.” Her words were too much for him. He was already on the edge, and when she squeezed around him one last time, he was done for. His thrusts stuttered, his rhythm completely broken as he groaned her name, his cock pulsing as he emptied himself inside her.

For her, the feeling was intoxicating. The warmth of his cum filling her only made her wetter, her pussy clinging to him greedily. She didn’t come, but the sensation of him spilling inside her, combined with the way his cock twitched against her walls, left her even more desperate for release. “You feel so good,” she whispered, her voice husky as she teased him. “I can feel how hard you came. Did I ruin your plans, baby?”

For him, it was overwhelming. The pleasure that ripped through him was almost too much, every pulse of his cock sending waves of ecstasy crashing over him. He groaned, his body trembling as he tried to catch his breath. “You’re fucking perfect,” he murmured, his voice rough and full of adoration. “I swear, you’re gonna be the death of me.”

She laughed softly, her fingers brushing through his hair. “You love it,” she teased, her voice sultry and full of promise.

Lando let out a shaky chuckle, his hips still pressed firmly against hers. His cock, still semi-hard but undeniably sensitive, remained buried inside her, throbbing faintly as she clenched around him. He kissed her temple, his lips lingering against her skin. “And I’m not done with you yet,” he murmured, his voice low and rough with lingering desire. His body trembled slightly with the aftershocks of his orgasm, but the feeling of her tight heat wrapped around him kept him on the edge, unable to pull away.

He groaned softly, his forehead resting against hers as he whispered, “Fuck, you’re still so perfect. Can’t even think about leaving you.” His hips shifted slightly, a small, involuntary movement that sent a jolt of pleasure—and sensitivity—through him. He hissed through his teeth, his hands gripping her waist as he fought the urge to move again.

Y/N smirked, her legs still wrapped around him, keeping him close. “Sensitive, huh?” she teased, her voice dripping with playful mischief. She squeezed around him gently, just enough to make him groan and his hips jerk forward instinctively.

“God, you’re a menace,” he muttered, his voice strained but laced with adoration. He pressed a kiss to her lips, his movements slow and tender, as if reveling in the feel of her still around him. “But I’m not going anywhere. Not yet.”

His words were a promise, and it was one she intended to hold him to.

His words were a promise, and she intended to hold him to it. Before he could say another word, she surged forward, capturing his lips in a searing, hungry kiss. Her mouth moved against his with a fierce urgency, her teeth nipping at his bottom lip before her tongue swept inside, claiming him with a possessive dominance that made him groan. She kissed him like she was determined to remind him exactly who owned him, her hands tangling in his hair as she pulled him closer, deepening the kiss until they were both breathless.

And then she began to squeeze, her pussy clenching around his cock in slow, deliberate pulses that had him moaning into her mouth. He was still sensitive, his body trembling as his cock twitched inside her, the overstimulation leaving him breathless and aching. She didn’t stop, her walls fluttering rhythmically, milking him in a way that made his hips jerk involuntarily. “Fuck, Y/N,” he gasped, breaking the kiss to press his forehead against hers. “You’re killing me.”

She smirked, her lips swollen from his kisses, and reached up to tug gently at his hair, guiding his mouth down to her breast. “Suck,” she commanded, her voice low and husky with need. He obeyed without hesitation, his lips closing around her hardened nipple, his tongue flicking over it in slow, teasing circles. She arched into his mouth, a soft moan escaping her lips as his teeth grazed her sensitive skin.

As he sucked, she began to grind, her hips moving in slow, sensual circles that made his cock slide deeper inside her. He groaned against her breast, his hands gripping her hips tightly as she took control, her movements deliberate and teasing. But then, unable to resist, he began to thrust, his hips rolling against hers in a rhythm that was both rough and tender. He fucked her with a desperation that left him breathless, his cock moving in and out of her slick heat with a wet, obscene sound that only fueled the fire between them.

He finally pulled back from her breast,and stared into her eyes as he continued to thrust. “Mmm, is this what you wanted?” he rasped, his voice thick with need. “Me sucking on you while I’m still inside you?” His tongue flicked over her nipple one last time, making her whimper, before his gaze dropped to where their bodies were connected.

His cum was still slick on the length of his cock, glistening in the dim light as it disappeared into her with every thrust. The visual was almost too much to handle. “You feel that, baby?” he breathed, his voice trembling. “My cock’s still drenched in you—covered in my cum.” His eyes stayed locked on the sight, completely mesmerized by the way she took him, her pussy glistening with their combined arousal.

“Look at that—fuck, look at how messy we are,” he groaned, his fingers gripping her jaw and forcing her to watch as his cock slid in and out of her. She moaned at the sight, her eyes widening as she took in the way his cum coated his length, leaking out of her with every thrust. “Shit, that’s my cum leaking out of you. You like seeing what you do to me?” His voice was a low, desperate rasp, his fingers smearing the evidence of his release along her thighs before gripping her ass tightly.

“I can’t stop watching—you’re taking me so well, fuck,” he muttered, his thrusts growing more erratic as the sight of his cock disappearing into her soaked pussy drove him closer to the edge. She moaned again, her hands gripping his shoulders as she met his thrusts, her body trembling with need. “You’re fucking perfect,” he growled, his voice breaking as he lost himself in the heat of her, in the way she felt around him, in the way she looked, completely wrecked by him.

And she was perfect—every gasp, every moan, every clench of her pussy around his cock only proved it. He couldn’t get enough of her, and he knew he never would.

Lando’s thrusts were deep and relentless, his cock filling her completely with every stroke. She could feel the way he stretched her, the way his cum from earlier still coated his length, making each movement slick and intoxicating. But it wasn’t enough. She wanted more. Her hand slipped between their bodies, her fingers finding her swollen clit with ease. She gasped, her eyes fluttering shut for a moment as she began to rub herself in slow, deliberate circles.

“Lando,” she moaned, her voice trembling with need. “Watch me.”

His eyes snapped to where her hand was working between her thighs, and what he saw made his breath catch. Her fingers were slick with his cum, the evidence of their earlier union glistening on her skin as she spread the warmth across her clit. The sight was almost too much to handle. His thrusts faltered for a moment, his hips jerking forward involuntarily as he watched her play with herself.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he groaned, his voice hoarse with desperation. “You’re actually spreading it… you’re playing with my cum while I’m still inside you?”

She smirked up at him, her fingers never stopping their slow, teasing movements. “Mmm, look at that—your cum’s still dripping out of me, Lando,” she purred, her tone dripping with mischief. She dipped her fingers between her thighs again, deliberately rubbing his release into her swollen clit. “You see how messy we are? How much you’ve already given me?”

Lando’s cock throbbed inside her at her words, the sensation of her tightening around him nearly making him lose control. His thrusts became more erratic, his rhythm faltering as he struggled to keep his eyes on her fingers. “Shit, baby, keep going—let me see you make yourself come while I fuck you,” he begged, his voice breaking on the last word.

She moaned, her head falling back against the pillows as she let him watch her. Her fingers moved faster now, her clit pulsing under her touch as she neared the edge. “Come on, baby—watch me,” she whispered, her voice breathless. “Watch how I play with your cum while you fuck me.”

Lando’s hands gripped her hips tightly, his fingers digging into her skin as he fought to keep his thrusts steady. “You know what that does to me?” he rasped, his eyes locked on her fingers. “Watching you play with yourself while I’m inside you? It’s fucking insane.”

But she wasn’t done yet. Just as he seemed to find his rhythm again, she stopped him, her hands pressing against his abs to halt his movements. “Wait,” she whispered, her voice soft but commanding. His body stilled immediately, his cock throbbing inside her as he tried to catch his breath.

With a slow, deliberate movement, she reached down and wrapped her hand around the base of his cock, pulling him out of her. The sensation was almost too much for him, his cock twitching in her hand as she guided him free of her slick heat. He groaned, his eyes closing for a moment as he fought the urge to thrust into her hand.

But she wasn’t done. Keeping her eyes locked on his, she dipped her fingers inside her pussy, gathering the cum that was still leaking out of her. His breath hitched as he watched her, his cock jerking in her hand at the sight. “Fuck, Y/N,” he whispered, his voice trembling. “You’re killing me.”

She smirked, her fingers spreading his cum across her swollen clit, making sure he could see every second of it. The sensation was electric, her clit pulsing under her touch as she worked herself closer to the edge. “You see that, Lando?” she moaned, her voice low and husky. “You see how wet you’ve made me? How much of you I’m still holding inside me?”

Lando couldn’t look away, his eyes locked on her fingers as they moved over her clit. “Holy fuck,” he breathed, his voice rough with need. “You’re so fucking beautiful like this.”

She reached for him again, her other hand wrapping around his cock as she guided him back to her entrance. “You’re gonna give me more, aren’t you?” she whispered against his lips, smirking as she pressed him deeper. “You feel that? How easy you slide in after you’ve already come inside me?”

He groaned, his hips jerking forward as she took him completely. “Y/N,” he rasped, his voice breaking. “I can’t—fuck, I can’t take much more of this.”

She wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him deeper as she began to rub her clit again. “Now fuck me, Lando,” she moaned, her voice breathless and needy. “Don’t hold back. I want to feel you deep—make a mess of me again.”

His thrusts were desperate now, his rhythm completely lost as he watched her fingers work her clit. “Fuck—Y/N, I can’t take my eyes off you,” he groaned, his voice hoarse. “You’re fucking unreal… you’re gonna make me come just from watching.”

She tightened around him, her walls fluttering as she neared her own release. “That’s it, baby—give me everything,” she whispered, her hands guiding his hips deeper as he shuddered above her. “Fill me up again.”

Lando’s body tensed, his thrusts growing shaky as his pleasure consumed him entirely. “Oh, fuck—fuck, Y/N, I’m coming—” he gasped, his voice strained as his orgasm crashed over him. His hips slammed against hers in broken strokes, his cock pulsing inside her as he spilled himself for the second time.

She felt his release filling her, the warmth spreading through her as his body twitched with overstimulation. “Fuck, Lando, I can feel you throbbing—so desperate for me,” she moaned, clenching around him as her own orgasm ripped through her. Her clit pulsed under her fingers, her body trembling as she came on his cock, the sensation of him still inside her only intensifying her pleasure.

Lando whimpered, his thrusts faltering as the sensitivity overwhelmed him. “Shit—take it all, baby, take every drop of me,” he whispered, his voice wrecked. “Jesus Christ—look at that, look at how much I’m filling you up again.”

He didn’t pull out immediately, too lost in the moment, too addicted to the warmth, the wetness, the way she was still wrapped around him. His forehead rested against hers, his breaths coming in shallow gasps as he tried to calm his racing heart. “So fucking full of me, sweetheart—fuck, take it all, take every drop,” he murmured, his voice trembling with adoration.

She smiled up at him, her fingers still lazily tracing circles over her clit as she savored the aftershocks of her release. “You love it,” she teased, her voice sultry and full of promise. “And you’re mine.”

Lando let out a shaky laugh, his lips pressing against hers in a soft, tender kiss. “Always,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “Always yours.”

They stayed like that for a long time, lost in the warmth of each other, the world outside forgotten. For Lando, there was no place he’d rather be, and he knew, without a doubt, that he’d never get enough of her. She was his addiction, his obsession, his everything. And he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Long moments later, Lando finally pulled himself out of her, his cock slipping free with a soft, wet sound that made him groan. He leaned down, pressing a lingering kiss to her forehead before murmuring, "Be right back," and disappearing into the bathroom. She lay there, legs still trembling, her body humming with the aftershocks of their shared passion.

He returned a moment later, a warm, damp towel in his hand. Gently, he knelt beside her, his touch tender as he cleaned her up, his fingers brushing over her skin with a reverence that made her heart swell. "You’re perfect," he whispered, his voice a little hoarse, as he wiped away the evidence of their union.

When he was done, he tossed the towel aside and slid into bed next to her, his body still radiating heat. He settled onto his back, pulling her with him so she lay half across his chest, her head nestled against his shoulder. He was still out of breath, a fine sheen of sweat on his forehead, and she brushed it aside with the back of her hand, her fingers lingering as she gazed up at him.

“See?” she whispered, a teasing grin lighting her face. “You survived. Didn’t finish in three strokes.”

He gave a short laugh, a mixture of embarrassment and amusement. “Barely,” he admitted.

She smoothed her hand through his hair. “I like that you were so worried.”

“Because it’s been so long since we’ve been together like this,” he breathed, looking at her intently. “I didn’t want to ruin it by letting it slip away too quickly.”

“You didn’t ruin anything,” she said softly, nuzzling closer. “It was perfect.”

He exhaled, relief flooding his expression. “I love you,” he murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to her shoulder.

She felt warmth bloom in her chest—she’d never get tired of hearing that. “I love you too,” she echoed, soft but sincere.

They lay there in comfortable silence for a while, each reveling in the steady rhythm of the other’s heartbeat.

3K notes · View notes

drewswife · 15 days ago

Text

summary — interviewer!reader and Drew at an award thing and its flirtyyyy

pairings — interviewer!reader x Drew

warnings — lots of banter, fluff, drew being a flirt. use of y/n sorry

The air crackled with excitement, a symphony of flashing cameras and murmuring voices. You, a seasoned interviewer, adjusted your microphone, a practiced smile on your face as you scanned the red carpet. Tonight was the night of the prestigious Golden Reel Awards, and the atmosphere was electric.

Then you saw him. Drew. He was walking towards you, a perfectly tailored suit accentuating his broad shoulders, a confident smirk playing on his lips. Your heart did a little flutter-kick, a reaction you absolutely refused to acknowledge professionally.

"Drew, fantastic to see you!" you began, your voice smooth and professional, despite the sudden heat rising to your cheeks.

He chuckled, that low, rumbling sound that always seemed to send a shiver down your spine. "And you, y/n. Looking as radiant as always." His eyes twinkled as he leaned a little closer, a playful glint in their depths. "Though I'm sure that's just the camera lights, right?"

You rolled your eyes, a genuine laugh bubbling up. "Oh, absolutely. It's all smoke and mirrors, Drew. Unlike your undeniable charm, which I'm sure is 100% authentic."

He feigned a wounded expression. "You wound me! But I'll forgive you, seeing as you're the only one who truly appreciates my artistic genius." He winked.

The interview was a delightful dance of witty banter and thinly veiled flirtation. You asked about his upcoming projects, his inspiration, and he answered with a charming mix of sincerity and playful evasiveness. Every now and then, his gaze would linger, a silent question in his eyes that made your stomach do a little flip.

"So, Drew," you said, towards the end of the interview, "any predictions for tonight? Feeling lucky?"

He grinned, that dazzling, movie-star grin that could melt glaciers. "With you here, I'm always lucky." He then leaned in conspiratorially, his voice dropping to a low, warm tone. "And who knows, maybe if I win, you'll let me buy you a celebratory drink?"

You felt a blush creep up your neck, but you met his gaze, a challenge in your own eyes. "We'll see."

As the cameras flashed around you, you knew one thing for sure: win or lose, tonight was definitely going to be interesting. And a part of you, the part that wasn't the professional interviewer, was secretly hoping he'd win.

🏷,@spencerreid66 @starrii-sturns @drewsstars @chrepsi

#drew masterlist⭑.ᐟ #drew starkey #rafe fanfiction #drew fluff #drew starkey imagine #drew fanfiction #drew starkey fanfiction #drew starkey fluff #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey x you #drew starkey smut #rafe cameron #rafe outer banks #drew starkey x y/n #rafe x reader #rafe obx #drew starkey x female reader #drew starkey fic

903 notes · View notes

clara-a7 · 29 days ago

Text

𝙁𝙞𝙧𝙨𝙩 𝘿𝙖𝙮 || F1 GRID

彡CONTAINS ; oscar piastri, charles leclerc, lando norris, franco colapinto, ollie bearman, kimi antonelli

彡WARNINGS ; fluff

彡SUMMARY ; you're the new journalist in the paddock, and every driver is discreetly surprised by your confident charm.

彡WORDS ; 1,2k

彡DISCLAIMER ; Everything written here is FICTITIOUS.

彡AUTHOR'S NOTE ; sorry if here are any mistakes, english isn't my first language!

⤷Oscar Piastri

You’re sitting across from Oscar during a media day interview, your notepad balanced on your knee, recorder blinking red between you. He’s composed, as always answering every question with that cool, methodical charm that’s almost become his trademark.

“How do you feel heading into the next race weekend?” you ask, tone professional but warm.

Oscar nods, fingers laced in his lap. “I think we’ve done the prep, and the sim work’s been really productive. It’s just about executing now.”

You hum thoughtfully, scribbling a quick note, then ask him another question. As you smile, brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear, you wait for his response.

His answer falters.

“Uh yeah, sorry, what was the question again?” he blinks just once, then clears his throat with an awkward little chuckle. “My bad. Lost my train of thought.”

You tilt your head, amused. “No worries.”

The moment passes, but there’s a slight flush to his ears now.

Later, back in the team’s motorhome, his PR manager nudges him playfully. “Bit distracted in that last interview, weren’t you?”

Oscar just shrugs, sipping from his water bottle. “Yeah,” he murmurs softly, almost like he’s still thinking about you. “I wasn’t ready for that kind of beauty.”

His manager blinks. “Excuse me?”

He just smiles a rare, quiet thing. “Nothing.”

But it’s not nothing. Not to him, anyway.

⤷Charles Leclerc

You approach Charles during press day, notebook in hand, heart quietly buzzing. He greets the press with his usual effortless charm composed and professional, every answer precise and polished.

When you introduce yourself, there’s a brief pause just a flicker of surprise, like he wasn’t quite expecting someone like you today.

He answers your questions thoughtfully, his tone steady and respectful. Yet, his eyes keep drifting back to you, lingering just a beat longer than necessary.

“It’s your first weekend, right?” he asks, offering a soft, genuine smile.

You nod at his question.

“Great, I hope to see you around more,” he adds with a warm smile, his voice low but sincere.

You return a gentle smile, feeling your cheeks warm as he nods subtly and keeps his professionalism intact.

The interview wraps, and Charles excuses himself smoothly. Later that night, as you settle back in your hotel room and check your phone, you notice a new notification.

Charles Leclerc has started following you on Instagram.

Your smile widens, heart fluttering slightly. Maybe this weekend isn’t going to be so ordinary after all.

⤷Lando Norris

You’re wandering the paddock, a little lost, trying to find the media room when you accidentally bump into Lando near the McLaren motorhome. He stops mid-step, eyes widening just a fraction as he takes you in not rude, but clearly caught off guard.

“Hey! Uh… what are you looking for?” he asks, a playful smile already tugging at his lips.

You laugh softly, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “I’m new here. Trying to find the media room, but I’m a bit lost.”

Lando’s smile grows warmer. “I got you. Follow me. It’s not far, and I know the place.”

As you walk together, the ease in his voice and the way he casually chats makes the paddock feel a little less intimidating. You realize he’s just as approachable off-camera as he is charismatic on it.

Later, during interviews, Lando tries to keep his usual confident, cheeky vibe. But you notice him glancing your way when he thinks you’re not watching just a flicker in his eyes that speaks louder than words.

There’s an unspoken connection growing quietly between you, soft and unexpected, making every encounter a little more electric.

⤷Franco Colapinto

You catch Franco just after qualifying, mic in hand and sun dipping low over the paddock. He’s still in his race suit, hair damp from the helmet, cheeks flushed with the lingering adrenaline of the session.

It’s your first interview with him, and you’re expecting the usual post-session rundown split times, track conditions, technical chatter. But from the moment you introduce yourself, Franco’s energy shifts warmer, softer, a little more playful.

“Nice to meet you,” he says, voice smooth as his eyes meet yours without hesitation. “You have a great smile, by the way.”

You blink, just slightly thrown, but can’t help smiling back. “Thank you. Uh great quali session. Talk us through the lap?”

He launches into his answer with ease, but there’s a rhythm to his words less like a driver rattling off data and more like someone painting a picture. He gestures with his hands, his eyes never really leaving yours.

Mid-answer, he leans in just a bit. “You new here?”

You only nod, caught in the way his attention feels entirely undivided.

Franco grins, gaze soft. “Thought so.”

By the end, you’re not quite sure who was interviewing who. He thanks you with a nod, that smile still lingering.

And as he walks off toward the garage, he glances over his shoulder already hoping you’ll be the one holding the mic next time, too.

⤷Ollie Bearman

Ollie’s usually confident during media sharp answers, relaxed posture, just enough charm to keep things light. But when you step up for your interview, something shifts.

You introduce yourself, smiling as you set up your recorder, and he freezes for half a second too long. Just long enough to notice.

“Right, yeah hi,” he says, clearing his throat, eyes flicking to your badge and then back to your face. “Let’s do it.”

You ask your first question, and he answers smoothly on the surface. But underneath, he’s completely thrown. Mentally kicking himself for being so obvious, for the way his gaze keeps drifting back to your eyes, or how his voice drops slightly whenever you smile.

He’s still answering everything right, still holding it together, but there’s a subtle shift in his tone like he’s trying just a bit harder to sound cool, even as his thoughts are a little scrambled.

You wrap up, thank him for his time, and offer a parting smile.

“Yeah,” he says, almost too quickly, “Hope I see you around more.”

Ollie walks away eventually, pretending like it was nothing. But in his head, he’s absolutely kicking himself for being so obvious.

Still… he finds himself looking around the paddock later, just in case you pass by again. Lowkey hoping you do.

⤷Kimi Antonelli

You approach Kimi after a solid qualifying run mic in hand, press pass swinging gently at your side. He’s already in front of the camera, arms crossed lightly, waiting for the usual questions.

You introduce yourself, voice calm and professional. He nods in return, polite but quiet, his gaze flickering down to your media badge, then off to the side.

The interview starts. His answers are sharp and to the point nothing out of place, nothing awkward. But there’s something in the way he fidgets with the strap of his gloves, shifts his weight from foot to foot, fingers tapping against his arm like he’s trying to stay grounded.

You ask your third question, and this time, mid-answer, he glances up and finally meets your eyes.

He freezes just for half a second. His jaw tenses, and there’s the faintest breath of hesitation before he continues speaking like nothing happened.

You wrap up, thank him, and he offers a quick “thanks” in return, already turning away.

Later, back in the garage, one of his PR manager nudges him with a grin. “She got you nervous, huh?”

Kimi mutters under his breath, gaze dropping, cheeks a little pink. “Didn’t expect her to be… cute.”

✿彡did you enjoy this? comments, likes, and reblogs are immensely appreciatedミ✿

858 notes · View notes

alohajix · 3 months ago

Text

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰

Description: a late-night interview with Harry Styles turns into a game of control, filthy whispers, and desk-fucking in a locked studio where the mics are off—but the heat’s just getting started.

Warnings: this one-shot contains explicit sexual content, including oral sex (m/f), fingering, dominant language, mild choking, rough sex, and dirty talk. Readers +18.

Words count: 2.3K

*****

The studio was dim, lit only by the warm orange glow of the backlit shelves and the soft overheads above the mics. It was quiet, late, the city humming faintly behind soundproof glass.

I adjusted my headphones and clicked my pen, heart thudding harder than I’d like to admit. He was already seated across from me. Calm. Casual. Dangerous in the way only someone who knew their effect could be. Harry Styles. Black trousers, a partially unbuttoned shirt that made it impossible not to glance at his chest. Rings glittering under the low light. A few curls were pushed back behind his ears, and when his eyes met mine—slow and steady—I nearly forgot how to breathe.

“You nervous?” he asked, voice low and teasing.

I smirked, covering my fluttering chest with a raised brow. “Shouldn’t I be asking you that?”

He tilted his head slightly. “You already know I’m not.”

God. His voice. Like honey dripped over gravel. Smooth, but with the scratch of something darker beneath. I cleared my throat, leaned toward the mic. “Alright. Final episode of Midnight Truths, and tonight’s guest probably needs no introduction—but I’ll give him one anyway. Singer, songwriter, actor, and a man whose fashion choices continue to outshine everyone else’s—Harry Styles.”

He grinned, biting the corner of his lip. “Thanks for having me.”

I pressed my lips together, composing myself. “So… what made you agree to this interview? Late night, small studio, no team, no pre-set questions.”

He shrugged one shoulder, eyes fixed on mine like he already knew the answer. “Heard you were good.”

“Just good?”

His smile widened. “Alright, fine. Heard you were dangerous.”

That sent a jolt down my spine. “I only ask honest questions.”

He leaned forward. “Then ask me something honest.”

The way he said it—soft, slow, velvet-wrapped—made the mic between us suddenly feel like the only thing keeping this professional. I clicked my pen again, flipping to a blank page in my notebook more for show than need. “Okay. First question: What’s something people think they know about you that’s completely wrong?”

He hummed, gaze dropping briefly to my mouth before returning to my eyes. “That I’m always sweet.”

I blinked. The pause stretched between us.

“I think they’ve got it mostly right,” I said carefully.

His tongue wet his lower lip. “That’s ‘cause they’ve never had me cornered at midnight in a locked studio, have they?”

My stomach flipped. I shifted in my seat, pretending not to flinch at how wet his voice made me. “You think you’re cornering me?”

He grinned, slow and wicked. “Aren’t I?”

I cleared my throat again, heart pounding so loud I was afraid it’d be caught by the mic. “Let’s move on.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Thought we were being honest.”

“I am,” I replied, voice tighter. “Honestly trying to stay focused.”

That earned a deep, warm laugh. “Alright. Your turn.”

I blinked. “What?”

“You ask honest questions. So do I. Your turn.”

“That’s not how interviews work.”

“Maybe not,” he murmured, “but that’s how I work.”

The air went still. I swallowed, hand tightening on my pen. “Fine. One question.”

He leaned in like he was settling in for a story, one arm draped over the back of his chair, shirt tugging across his chest. “Good girl.” My thighs clenched. I hoped he didn’t notice. “Why’d you agree to interview me alone tonight?” he asked.

My lips parted, but no words came out right away. His eyes didn’t waver. Neither did his smirk. I stared down at my notes, all the clever responses I’d rehearsed fading into useless dust.

“Because…” I said softly, “you make good content.”

He chuckled. “That all I make?”

I bit the inside of my cheek. “Do you flirt with all your interviewers, or am I just lucky?”

His eyes darkened. “You’re not lucky. You’re distracting.”

That shouldn’t have thrilled me. But it did. When I didn’t answer, he reached down and casually tugged his mic away. “Turn yours off,” he said quietly.

I blinked. “Why?”

“Because what I want to say next isn’t meant for the public.”

I hesitated, finger hovering over the mute button on my mic. I flicked the switch. My mic light went dark. So did his. It was just us now.

He leaned forward again, forearms braced on the table. “I’ve been thinking about what your voice would sound like if I had my fingers inside you.”

My breath hitched. No warning. No teasing lead-up. Just—filth. Coated in that soft, velvety tone.

My pulse pounded in my ears. “Jesus,” I whispered.

Harry smirked. “Is that a yes?”

“You can’t just say shit like that.”

He leaned closer. “You didn’t say no.”

I stared at him. At the way his eyes dragged over my lips. The way his tongue pressed to the inside of his cheek. The way his ringed fingers flexed slowly against the edge of the table.

“What if someone comes in?” I asked, trying to stay grounded even as I shifted in my seat.

“They won’t.” He stood, slowly, circling the table. “You locked the door, remember?” I had. God, I had.

He stopped behind me, fingers grazing my shoulders, then drifting down my arms. My skin lit up, nerves dancing.

“I meant what I said,” he murmured near my ear. “You’re distracting. I couldn’t stop thinking about your mouth the moment I sat down.”

I exhaled shakily. “And now?”

His hands slid to my hips, guiding me to stand. “Now I’m wondering how soft you’ll sound when I make you come.”

I turned in his arms. Our chests brushed. He was warm. Broad. Smiling just slightly, but with heat simmering in his eyes.

My fingers curled in his shirt. “Are you always like this?”

He leaned in, brushing his lips over mine—barely there. “No. Just with you.”

That was the moment I gave in. I kissed him. Hard. Hungry. He groaned into my mouth, one hand fisting in my hair, the other dragging down the curve of my back to squeeze my ass. I gasped, and he took the opportunity to deepen the kiss, tongue sliding slow and sure against mine. He tasted like mint and something headier, something that made my knees weak.

“Table,” he murmured, breath ragged. “Sit.”

I stumbled back and boosted myself up, the cold wood shocking against my thighs as I hiked my dress up. Harry moved between my legs, fingers already tugging at the edge of my underwear.

“You’re soaked,” he whispered, eyes locked on mine as he dragged the lace down my thighs. “Is this all from me?”

I swallowed. Nodded.

“Fuck,” he breathed, dropping to his knees. “Let me taste it.”

My head tilted back, lips parting with a soft moan as his mouth met me—hot, wet, and filthy. His tongue worked slow circles at first, lazy and confident, then picked up pace as he spread my thighs wider and sucked on my clit. I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. One hand anchored me on the table. The other threaded through his curls.

“Harry—”

He groaned at the sound of his name, then slid two fingers inside me.

My hips jerked. “Fuck—oh my god.”

He pumped them slowly, curling just right, his tongue relentless. Every sound I made, he answered with a moan like he loved it. Like he could come from this alone.

“Look at me,” he whispered against me. “Want to see your face when you fall apart.”

I lifted my head, eyes locking with his. That was it. I came hard, a choked cry breaking from my lips as I clenched around his fingers. He didn’t stop—kept licking, kept moving—until I was trembling, pushing weakly at his shoulder. Only then did he rise, licking his lips, eyes dark and blown out.

“You good, love?”

I nodded, chest rising and falling fast. “Holy fuck.”

He laughed, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, then leaned in to kiss me again—slow this time, sweet.

“You’re not getting away with just that,” I whispered against his lips. “My turn.”

His breath caught. “Yeah?”

I slid off the table, dropped to my knees, and looked up at him.

“Take your time,” he said, voice strained. “I’m all yours.”

I unbuckled his belt slowly, my fingers steady despite the thrum of anticipation between my legs. He watched me—eyes low, chest rising and falling—his rings brushing through his hair as I tugged the button of his trousers open.

“You’re teasing me,” he murmured.

I looked up through my lashes. “Good.”

A dark chuckle left his lips. “Fucking hell.”

His cock was already hard beneath his briefs, the outline thick and heavy. I ran my fingers over him through the fabric, loving the way his hips pushed forward, subtle and hungry. When I slipped my hand beneath the waistband, he sucked in a sharp breath.

“Pull it out, baby,” he whispered, voice thick. “Wanna see those pretty lips around it.”

God, he was filthy in the softest fucking tone. I freed him from his briefs—thick, flushed, the tip already wet with pre-cum. I wrapped my hand around the base and leaned in, dragging my tongue along the underside slowly, deliberately.

“Shit,” he hissed. “Just like that.”

I swirled my tongue around the tip, teasing him, tasting salt and heat. His fingers tightened in my hair, not pushing—just holding. Waiting. Watching.

“You’re killing me,” he muttered. “So fucking sexy on your knees.”

I moaned around him as I sank down further, letting him fill my mouth inch by inch. He groaned—deep, broken—and his hand tightened.

“Fuck, your mouth feels unreal.”

I bobbed my head slowly, keeping eye contact, loving how his jaw clenched and his brows drew together. When I hollowed my cheeks and sucked harder, his hips jerked forward.

“Ah—shit. Baby. Just like that. Don’t stop.”

His voice cracked. His other hand braced against the edge of the table, rings clinking softly.

I pulled off for a moment, stroking him slowly with my hand. “You gonna come for me?”

His eyes were wild. “If you keep sucking me like that—yeah.”

I smirked, kissed the tip, and took him in again, this time deeper. Faster. His thighs trembled slightly. He let out a groan so filthy it echoed through the quiet studio.

“Such a good girl. Taking it so well. Fuck, you’re perfect—look at you.”

He started to move with me, fucking into my mouth with soft, shallow thrusts. I let him. Moaned around him. Loved the way he lost control.

And then he warned me—voice rough, almost broken. “Fuck—gonna come. You sure?”

I nodded, didn’t stop. Looked up at him with wide, hungry eyes. He came hard, gasping my name, spilling down my throat with a curse and a groan that sounded like it had been ripped straight from his soul. I swallowed. Every drop. Then pulled off with a soft pop. He stared down at me like I’d just ruined him.

“Jesus Christ,” he whispered, cupping my jaw as he leaned down. “You’re incredible.”

I smirked, licking my lips. “Good content, huh?”

He laughed, deep and breathless. “Best fucking episode of the season.”

Harry helped me to my feet, but the second I stood, he spun me around and pressed me back against the table, his chest warm against my back.

“You’re not done,” he murmured, voice low and rough in my ear. “You think you get to suck me off like that and not get ruined for it?”

I gasped when his hand slid between my legs, two fingers sliding through the mess he’d already made of me.

“Still this wet?” he growled. “Fuck.”

He dragged his fingers up to my mouth and tapped gently. I opened without hesitation, sucking them clean.

His breath hitched. “That’s it. Good girl.”

My dress was bunched at my waist, my panties already gone—somewhere near the mic cords, maybe. I didn’t care. Not when he was undoing his shirt behind me with shaking fingers and then stepping back in, bare chest pressed to my spine, cock already hardening again against my ass.

“I’ve been thinking about this since the moment I walked in,” he whispered, lining himself up. “Bent over this fucking table… moaning for me.”

“Then do it,” I breathed. “Fuck me.”

He didn’t hesitate. One hard thrust, and I cried out, fingers gripping the edge of the table. He filled me completely—thick, deep, perfect—and didn’t give me time to adjust before pulling back and slamming in again.

“God—Harry—”

He wrapped a hand around my throat from behind, not tight—just holding me there, anchoring me in place.

“You like that?” he growled, fucking me harder now, pace brutal and steady. “You like being used like this?”

“Yes,” I gasped. “Yes—don’t stop—please—”

The table creaked beneath us, my skin slapping against the wood in time with his thrusts. One of his hands came around to play with my clit, rubbing quick circles that had my vision going white.

“You gonna come for me again?” he asked, voice rough and breathless against my ear.

I nodded desperately. “I’m close—I’m so close—”

“Then let go. Give it to me.”

His pace didn’t let up—just kept driving into me with filthy, focused precision, until I shattered around him with a cry that echoed through the silent studio. He kept fucking me through it, chasing his own release now, his hand still on my throat, his cock thick and perfect inside me. When he came, it was with a broken groan of my name, slamming into me one final time and burying himself deep.

We stood there, breathless, shaking, skin slick with sweat. His hands softened, sliding down my body like he didn’t want to stop touching me.

“You alright?” he murmured against my neck.

I smiled, still catching my breath. “More than alright.”

His lips brushed my shoulder. “Think this episode needs a part two.”

*****

a short one this time guys 💕

#harry styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles one shot #harry styles smut #harry #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #harry styles writing #masterlist #harry styles x reader #harry styles au #harry styles imagine

618 notes · View notes

chrissv4mp · 30 days ago

Text

⋆ TOUGH GIRL

she'd been unbearable all day.

woke up with that dangerous glint in her eyes—the one you knew all too well. she cut you off nearly every time you spoke. mocked your playlist. rolled her eyes when you told her she was being a brat and then smirked like she wanted a prize for it. and now she's in your bed, sprawled out like she's innocent. phone in one hand, legs spread like she owns the space, and the other hand resting lazily on your thigh.

you don't say anything. you just watch.

she's scrolling like you're not even there, but you catch the way her eyes flick up to you every few seconds, the way her cheeks flush a bit more each time you catch her.

"don't you have an interview tomorrow, bil?" you mutter, sitting up a bit, causing her hand to slide off your thigh just an inch.

she doesn't look up from her phone, just shrugs. "i don't know. management handles that stuff."

you huff a laugh under your breath, sitting up fully and turning towards her. she doesn't react, but her posture straightens, just slightly. she can feel the shift in your mood, the air thickening. you reach out with the kind of calm that's almost cruel and curl your fingers beneath her chin—firm, slow, giving her room to pull away if she wants.

but she doesn't. not even a little.

your thumb brushes along her cheek gently, tilting her head up so that she'd look at you. her phone slips an inch from her grip, forgotten for a moment. her eyes still don't meet yours—too stubborn to give in, as always.

"been mouthin' off all day," you whisper, voice sweet but still firm as ever. "but look at you now. all quiet, huh?"

billie's lips twitch into a grin, shaking her head and moving to pull away—but your grip tightens, and this time she drops her phone onto the mattress completely. she swallows. hard. her legs shift—still open, but more tense than before. her free hand curls into the sheets, like she knows what's coming.

you lean closer, eyes locked on hers. "too shy now?" her eyes snap to yours.

she blinks slow, lashes fluttering, chest rising a little faster than before. "m'not intimidated by you, y'know?"

"baby," you chuckle lowly, thumb dragging across her bottom lip now. "i know you're not intimidated. you're waiting."

her breath hitches subtly. but you catch it along with the way the glint in her eyes flicks from bratty to obedient, like something you said or did flicked a switch off in her brain. she leans into your touch like she doesn't mean to, like her body made the decision before her brain could process. her eyes aren't filled with that sharp edge anymore, softened into something glassy and dazed.

"actin' like a brat just to get attention," you observe, voice dropping to something darker, hungrier. "is that it?"

she doesn't answer. just swallows again, staring at you like she's hanging on by nothing but a thread.

you lean in so close your lips nearly touch hers. "say it."

a shaky sigh passes by her pretty lips. she whispers it like it's a secret, voice so soft and smooth you hardly hear it. "yeah."

your lips curl into a wicked smile, then you back just enough to look her in the eyes again—blue, glossy with obedience and desperation. your thumb presses firmer against her cheek, rubbing circles along her smooth skin.

"there's my good girl," you coo.

billie melts. her entire body sinks into the bed, thighs clenching around nothing, fingers fisting the sheets like those few words unraveled any stubbornness she might've had left. she's flushed, trembling, completely under your control—and you've hardly touched her.

you let the silence hang heavy for a few moments, her breathing shallow, fingers twitching on the sheets like she's waiting for orders she'll never admit she needs.

"such a mouth on you today," you murmur, thumb drifting down her jawline, slow and deliberate. "where'd that go?"

she lets out this tiny sound—half protest, half surrender—but it dies on her tongue the second your hand drops lower, fingers trailing down the column of her throat. not yet squeezing. just resting. a quiet reminder.

her eyes flutter closed instinctively.

but you don't let her off that easy.

"no, no. look at me," you demand, but it's gentle.

her eyelids lift slowly, revealing her blown pupils, lips parting just as her eyes meet yours.

"you like this?" you ask, and your voice is soft, taunting, laced with something darker underneath. "getting handled. after all that shit you pulled today?"

she nods. small. desperate, like if she moves too much she'll shatter completely. but she knows that's not enough. so, quietly, hesitantly, she murmurs. "i like it."

your hand slips down again, fingers slipping under the collar of her shirt, running along her collarbones. you watch as she visibly shivers, teeth sinking down into her lower lip.

"yeah?" you whisper. "what d'you like?"

her thighs clench again, her whole body buzzing with anticipation. "being... put in my place."

your grin widens slowly, dragging your fingers up her neck and to her cheek again, like she's the most fragile, filthy thing you've ever touched.

"thought so."

then you kiss her—and it's not soft. not sweet. you claim her mouth like she owes you something, and she gives in like she's been dying for it. gasping into you, hands finally moving to curl into your shirt, trying to pull you closer, like having you closer will save her from how wrecked she is already.

you pull back slowly, watching through hooded-eyelids as she chases your lips for more. "you're gonna ask for it next time," you whisper firmly. "no more games. no more bratty fuckin' acts like today."

she nods frantically. "okay. m'kay, i will."

her words barely reach your ears before you're moving again—hovering over her now, one hand braced on the pillow beside her head, the other still cradling her jaw like she'll break if you let go. like you're giving her one last chance to breath before you drown her.

but she's already underwater.

your lips meet hers again, rougher this time—teeth scraping her lower lip, tongue sliding past the small gap between her lips like you own her. because you do. and the second she whines into your mouth, low, needy, you know she knows it too.

your knee slots between her thighs. not pressing—yet—but close enough that she can feel it, close enough that she twitches, hips bucking like she can't help herself. because, really, she can't.

"what are you doin'?" you mumble against her lips, taunting, smug. "tryna' ride my thigh already?"

she moans shyly, cheeks flushing deeper. "no, i—"

"you are," you cut her off. "gosh, you're so needy."

your hand slips lower, fingers dancing over the hem of her shirt. "y'gonna ask for it, or d'you want me to keep teasing you all night, baby?"

she looks up at you, wrecked, hair messy across your pillows, lips swollen, pupils blown so wide her eyes are nearly black. and then she nods, breathy shaky. "please," she begs. "please, touch me."

you raise an eyebrow. "that's all?"

billie hesitates, and that bratty edge flickers in her eyes for just a second—just long enough for you to see the way her jaw ticks. but then your fingers sneak under her shirt, just brushing her skin, and her entire body jerks.

"please," she whines, voice cracking now. "need it. need you."

you chuckle, dragging her shirt up slowly, watching her face the entire time—how she trembles when your fingers graze her stomach, how her thighs tighten around your knee when they slide higher—just under her ribs.

"wanna act like a brat," you murmur slowly, lips brushing the shell of her ear. "you get treated like one."

you finally cup her over her underwear, and she gasps—hips rising off the bed like she's been waiting all day for this, breath stuttering.

"just like that," you draw out. "so wet already. you were jus' aching for me, weren't you?"

she nods fast, too far gone to pretend anymore. "m'sorry," she breathes, voice barely there.

you drag your fingers along the soaked fabric, movements slow and tortuous, feeling just how wet she was from all your teasing. and then you push her panties to the side, just enough to slip two fingers against her folds, over her slit—barely dipping in. she chokes on a moan, one hand grabbing your arm like she needs to ground herself.

billie inhales sharply when you kiss her temple. soft. cruel like the slow, teasing touch of your fingers.

then you press your fingers inside her, slow, deep, curling just right. she breaks. loud, helpless, hips rolling against your hand, eyes squeezing shut as the tension from all day crashes over her like a wave. you kiss her again, swallowing every sound, holding her jaw in place like she's yours to keep.

because she is. and now she knows it for sure.

her legs tremble, trying to close but getting forced to open wider when you press yourself between her thighs, breath catching on every curl and thrust of your fingers. you don't rush it—you drag it out. slow, controlled. deep. your thumb ghosts over her clit, featherlight, cruel.

she's soaking the sheets and your hand, moaning into your mouth like she's embarrassed by how loud she is, how easy she is to break. but you don't let her hide.

"look at me," you repeat your words from earlier, voice low, commanding as you pull away.

her lashes flutter, then lift—eyes far more glassy than before, cheeks flushed, her whole body pulsing around your fingers like they're the only thing keeping her alive.

you laugh softly. "so, where's that attitude now, pretty girl?"

she whines, cheeks flushing even redder, lips parting like she wants to answer but can't think past the way your fingers curl and brush against her sweet spot just right.

"oh," you coo, thumb pressing down on her clit now, just enough to make her jolt. "that's right. my sweet little brat doesn't have much to say when she's full, does she?"

you lean in close, lips brushing her jaw. "you wanna cum?"

she nods immediately, like she's scared you'll stop. "yes—please, please—"

then you stop. completely. fingers still inside her, feeling as her cunt clenches around them, begging for more. her breath catches instantly, hips bucking automatically, desperate to chase the pleasure.

"then say it right, billie."

she swallows at the sound of her name—no pet name, no nickname, just her full name. her face burns, voice barely a whisper. "please let me cum. m'gonna be good, promise! gonna be s'good for you."

your smile turns dark, and you start moving your fingers again—this time with purpose, fucking her deep, thumb circling tighter now, no more teasing. billie cries out, back arching off the mattress, moans so loud now, no shame, definitely not a sliver of control.

"there's my girl," you praise. "look at you. makin' such a mess all f'me."

her thighs shake harder now, in the way they do when she's right there—right on the edge of being completely ruined. her nails dig into your arm, trying to ground herself before she lets go.

"you're gonna cum for me," you breathe, kissing just below her jaw. "and you're gonna thank me for it. like a good girl."

"yes—yes, i will, i swear i will—fuck, oh my god—!"

she breaks.

hips stuttering, legs clamping around your hand, body shaking with a sob of a moan that turns into your name. she cums hard, soaking your fingers and the sheets beneath her, mouth dropped open like she's forgotten how to breathe.

you help her ride through her high, fingers slowly coming to stop, easing but not pulling out quite yet. you kiss everywhere you can. her face, her temple, her jaw as shd crumbles beneath you—soft and small now. yours.

she blinks up at you, dazed, ruined, still shaking.

"not so tough now, hm?" you tease one last time, grinning.

tags. @mseilishmwah @sophloveswomen @mxqdii @livvydunneness @dyingbymistake @wiidfi0wer33 @loving1dsworld @tan1shere @fallingforfalll2 @cierraonline @dandelions4us @scarlittt @ifwdominicfike @slxtarchive @bilsdillldough @47lake @hopingforgoodblogs @mybluebossanova @strwberrybils @justtr @greenbttrflyy @billsbaby @bilsova @lottiepierce @northlndnisred @asterisk-eyes @dragoneyelashart @xxangelfarrlzxx @ilomiloblohshh @kittymarrow @meliciousmel13 @jul3esz @rightarion @svelish @hkkuugu @eeuni @dragoneyelashart @thinkshespretty @cnnibalize @canthelpit0 @hailwiggly @karaaeilish @bilswifee @drunkinyourbenz @aka-persephone

418 notes · View notes

cuzxai · 2 months ago

Text

static - nsfw

spencer reid x afab!reader

a/n: 😲😲😲😲 phone sex with reid (inbox open, please request)

You’re just about to fall asleep when your phone buzzes softly against the pillow. The screen lights up with a contact photo you didn’t realize you’d memorized—Spencer, blurry and smiling, probably mid-laugh from the day you took it. You answer without hesitation. “Hey,” you murmur, voice still heavy with sleep. There’s a pause, like maybe he didn’t expect you to pick up so quickly. When he speaks, his voice is low and hoarse but gentle in the way only he can manage.

“Did I wake you?”

You turn onto your back, staring at the ceiling with a sleepy smile. “Kind of. But it’s okay.” He exhales into the line and something about the sound makes your stomach flutter. It’s not relief, exactly. More like… release. Like hearing your voice made something inside him loosen.

“I couldn’t sleep,” he says finally. “Too much noise in my head. I didn’t want to be alone with it.”

You tug the blanket up to your chest. “Rough case?”

“Yeah,” he says. And that one word carries so much: long hours, too many victims, the weight of responsibility he always takes on alone. “We’re just in the waiting phase now. Interviews are done. Morgan and Hotch are going over timelines. It’s a lot of hurry-up-and-wait.”

“And you’re in a motel?” you ask, already picturing it: a dimly lit room, stiff sheets, the hum of a bad AC unit in the background.

“Yeah,” he murmurs. “Small town. Two-star situation. The mattress feels like cardboard.”

You smile softly. “Poor baby.”

“I’m not fishing for sympathy,” he says, a little defensively.

“No,” you tease, “but you’re definitely hoping I’ll say something to make you forget it.” He’s quiet again.

Then a little rougher, “Maybe.” There’s a shift in his breathing. Something you wouldn’t notice if you didn’t know him so well but you do. It’s subtle, barely there but it makes your heart thump. You recognize that sound. That shallow inhale like he’s trying not to let it show.

Your voice drops. “Spence. What are you doing?”

“Nothing,” he answers too quickly. Then, quieter, “Just… thinking.”

You smirk against the phone. “Thinking about me?” You swear you can hear him swallow.

“Yes.” Another pause. This one longer. And when he speaks again, his voice is soft but not shy. Not embarrassed. Just real. “I’m sorry. I know it’s late. I didn’t call to— I wasn’t trying to make it weird.”

“You didn’t,” you say, sitting up slightly, your pulse starting to pick up. “It’s not weird. I like knowing you think about me like that.” He doesn’t say anything at first. But the sound of him breathing shifts again, deeper now. More purposeful. “Tell me what you’re doing,” you murmur.

A beat. Then slowly, carefully: “I’m just… lying on the bed. Still dressed. But I—” he pauses like he’s deciding how much to give away. “I have my hand over myself.”

Your breath catches. “Are you hard?”

“Yes.” You press your thighs together under the sheets, already warm from just imagining it. Spencer in some creaky motel bed, trying not to get too into it because his team is down the hall.

“Touch yourself,” you whisper. “I want to hear what it sounds like when you do.” There’s a hitch in the line—movement, maybe fabric shifting or his hand adjusting.

“I—okay,” he says breathlessly. “I’m… pressing against the shaft. Through my pants right now. Applying slight pressure—uh—engorgement of the corpora cavernosa has already occurred, so stimulation is…” He trails off, like he just realized what he’s doing.

You laugh softly. “You’re giving me a lecture, Doctor Reid.”

“I know,” he groans, embarrassed. “I can’t help it. I—It’s just how I process. When I get nervous or—aroused—my brain defaults to clinical terminology. I—fuck, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” you breathe. “It’s hot.”

He lets out a choked laugh. “You’re the only person on Earth who would say that.”

“Maybe,” you tease, “but I’m the only one who gets to hear it, so I’d say that works out.”

He’s breathing harder now, trying to keep his voice steady. “I’m unzipping my pants. It’s… a little awkward lying like this. But I can feel the friction through my boxers. It’s—god, it’s warm. I’m leaking already.”

Your stomach flips. “I haven’t even touched myself tonight,” you whisper, running a hand slowly down your body beneath the sheets. “I was waiting for you to call.” You hear a low sound from him—almost like a whimper but he catches it before it escapes fully.

“I wanted to hear your voice,” he says, voice thick. “But now I can’t stop picturing your hands. Your mouth.”

“Mmm. You like when I use my mouth, don’t you?” You ask and his breath stutters.

“I think about it too much. Sometimes during briefings. During flights. I’ll remember the way you looked up at me from between my legs and I— I can’t focus.”

You moan quietly. “Tell me more.”

“I—I can’t get enough of the way you hum when you’re doing it. Or how your fingers dig into my thighs. You’re so soft and warm and—fuck—I’m touching myself now.”

You squeeze your legs together, slick already pooling in your panties as his voice drips into your ear like molasses. “How?” you ask breathlessly.

“My fingers,” he pants. “Wrapped around the base. I’m stroking slow, not too tight yet. The pressure is increasing blood flow but—fuck—there’s already too much. It’s… overstimulating.”

“Do you want me to slow you down?”

“No,” he whispers. “Don’t stop. Don’t let me stop.” There’s a tension in your chest now, rising with every breath he takes.

You slide your own hand lower, easing the ache that’s been building since the second he said your name.“Spencer…”

“I keep picturing you with your hand between your thighs,” he gasps.

“It is,” you breathe. “I’m touching myself, Spence. I’m so wet just listening to you.”

He groans, a low sound that rips through the speaker. “I’m close,” he chokes out. “Already. But I don’t want to come yet. I want to listen to you. Tell me what you’re feeling.”

“I’m pulsing,” you murmur. “My fingers are soaked. I wish it were yours. I wish I could slide you inside me right now, slow and deep.”

“Fuck.” You hear the bed creak beneath him, hear his sharp inhale as he tries to keep control. He’s falling apart but he’s not there yet—not quite. And neither are you. So you both breathe into the silence. Desperate. Flushed. Teetering on the edge. Spencer’s breath is heavy in your ear. It’s the kind of sound that tightens your stomach and makes you ache, like he’s caught between wanting to speak and not wanting to break the fragile control he’s still holding onto. You can’t help the rush of heat that spreads through you at his small curses. He’s fighting his body, fighting the need to come, all while trying to be considerate of you. It’s so damn Spencer.

You whisper, running your hand over your body, mimicking the movements you know he’s making. “You need to let go a little, don’t you?” He gasps, the sound cutting off abruptly. You hear the shift of his body as his hand speeds up, the friction becoming more intense.

For a long moment, he doesn’t answer. You wonder if he’s going to try to hold back, but when he finally speaks, his voice is raw, needy. “I—I don’t want to come yet,” he confesses, so quietly that you almost miss it. “I don’t want to rush it.”

“Then slow down,” you tell him, your hand slowly moving beneath your sheets in tandem with the rhythm of his voice.

He breathes a shaky laugh escaping him. “It’s hard. It’s really hard.”

“I know, baby,” you murmur, the word slipping out without thought. “It’s hard for me too.” There’s a slight catch in his breath, a slight trembling and you know he’s fighting with everything he has to keep himself in check.

“I… I can’t explain it. It’s not just the physical… it’s the mental stimulation. The proprioceptive feedback is off the charts. I’m—fuck, I’m getting lightheaded just talking about it.”

You can’t help but laugh at his attempt to keep things academic, even now. “You’re so hot when you do that,” you tell him, voice thick with desire. “I think I might get off just listening to you try to sound all scientific while you’re on the edge of losing it.”

He groans at that, and you can almost see his face, flushed with embarrassment, as he shifts around in his bed. “I—I’m sorry. I don’t know how else to—”

You cut him off gently. “You don’t have to apologize, Spence. I love hearing you like this. You can let go. You can talk to me, tell me exactly what you need.” He takes a shaky breath and for a moment, you think he’s going to argue or retreat back into his overly-analytical shell but then he says your name, low and desperate. The desperation in his voice makes your heart race. You’ve never heard him like this—raw and open, breaking away from his usual restraint. You’re so close to pushing him past that edge. You don’t let him finish his sentence. Instead, you keep him on the brink. “Tell me what you need, Spencer,” you whisper, your voice thick with anticipation. “You’ve got me right here. I’m not going anywhere.”

“I need you to…” he starts, but his words get stuck in his throat. “I need you to make me feel good. I don’t want to—fuck, I need to feel you.” Your pulse quickens as you hear the vulnerability in his voice.

“You can feel me, Spence. I’m right here. You just have to focus. Focus on how good you feel right now.”

“I’m trying,” he whispers and there’s that catch in his voice again. “I just—fuck, I don’t think I can hold back much longer.”

Your body aches at his words as you whisper back, “Let go for me. Let me hear you.” Spencer’s breath hitches again, faster. Like he’s teetering on the edge. You’re both so close. So close. But he’s still holding back, still refusing to let go completely. You feel the tension, the urgency in his voice. You’re both quiet for a moment now. Just breathing. And even through the static of the phone, you can hear every soft puff of air he exhales. Every subtle shift of movement on that scratchy motel bedsheet. He’s being so good. He speaks up through the groans. Just your name. It’s broken but like it’s the only word left in his vocabulary. You press the phone tighter to your ear and close your eyes, your free hand sliding between your legs as your voice softens. “Still with me, baby?”

“Yeah,” he breathes, hoarse. “I’m just—my hand’s shaking.”

“How long have you been like this?” you ask, already knowing the answer.

There’s a beat before he says, “Since before I called you.”

Your heart flutters. You shift in bed, biting back a moan. “That long?”

He hums a pitiful little yes. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I tried to, but everything felt… empty. Like my skin was too tight. I—I kept getting hard every time I thought about your voice. About your hands. About the last time we—” He cuts himself off with a sharp inhale. You know he’s fighting, hard. Harder than he should be.

“Spencer,” you murmur, “you’ve been so good for me. So patient. But I don’t want you to hold back anymore.” He exhales like he’s just been told he can finally breathe. “Come,” you whisper. The word is barely out of your mouth before you hear him fall apart on the other end of the line. The soft, slick sounds of his hand meeting skin. The choked gasp that gets caught in his throat. The deep, trembling groan like it’s been trapped in his chest for hours.

“F-fuck,” he hisses, his voice breaking. “It’s—it’s too much, God.” You can hear the rhythm. He’s fast. Desperate. Probably fucking into his own hand with nowhere near the control he had earlier. You let your fingers glide through your own slick heat and sigh into the phone.

“Does it feel good, baby?” His breath hitches again.

“Yes, it’s—I’m gonna—”

“Yeah?” you coo, “Feels so good, hmm?” A strained whine escapes him.

“It’s—it’s throbbing. It’s pre-cum. My whole body feels like—like I’m on fire. My hand is wet, I don’t—I don’t even know how much came out, it’s so fucking sensitive and I’m—I’m gonna lose it.”

“You’re doing so well,” you breathe. “I’m touching myself too, Spence. You’ve got me so wet.”

He whimpers. “Please,” You feel your own orgasm building, slow and steady like a wave about to crash. You want to finish with him. You want to feel it in his voice when it finally hits him. You don’t even get another word out before he gasps so loud it cuts through the speaker, his breath catching in his throat as he falls over the edge. It’s not even a groan—it’s a sound you’ve never heard before. Desperate, stunned, overwhelmed. You hear the wet slap of his hand faltering, the breathless moans as he rides it out.

“ah— please.” he keeps saying your name like it’s the only thing tethering him to reality. And that’s what sends you over. You press the phone harder to your ear, hips stuttering against your hand as your orgasm hits you like a tremor. Your whole body arches as you cry out, biting your lip to keep quiet but knowing he hears it—feels it—because you can hear him panting through his own aftershocks. It’s messy. Loud. Intimate in a way that phone sex usually isn’t. Neither of you talk for a while. Just the sounds of two people on opposite sides of a phone line, breathing like they’ve just been pulled from underwater.

Eventually, Spencer breaks the silence with a soft laugh. “That was… wow.” You smile, sinking back into your bed.

“Yeah. Wow.” He’s still breathless but there’s a note of wonder in his voice, like he’s not entirely sure that just happened. “I’ve never… I mean— that was…”

“Good?” you offer. He laughs again, quieter this time.

“Yeah. Very.” You imagine him lying there, hand limp on his chest, flushed and dazed and probably trying to mentally calculate how many calories he just burned. It makes you ache with affection.

“You okay?” you ask gently.

“More than okay,” he says and you can hear the smile in his voice. “I just… wish I could hold you right now.”

You let out a breath, soft and sincere. “Me too.”There’s a pause before you sheepishly ask, “Think you can sleep now?”

He hums. “Eventually. I’ll probably fall asleep picturing you.”

You laugh softly. “Pervert.”

“Your fault,” he says, voice already thick with sleep. And it is. And you’re okay with that.

515 notes · View notes

lazysoulwriter · 3 months ago

Text

caught on camera! - pedro pascal.

requested! hope u like it. ♡ - requests still open!

----

Sitting under the bright lights of Jimmy Kimmel Live!, you can’t help but feel a mix of excitement and nerves as you watch Pedro answer questions with his usual charm. You’re not on stage, of course— you’re sitting just off to the side, hidden from the audience’s view, but that doesn’t mean you’re safe from whatever is about to happen.

Pedro has been doing press non-stop for his latest project, and somehow, this is the only interview you’ve been able to attend in person. He had smiled when you told him you’d be there, reaching for your hand and squeezing it. “Just don’t laugh too hard if Kimmel roasts me.”

Now, watching him on the big screen behind the stage, you know exactly what’s coming. Jimmy leans forward, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Pedro, I gotta ask— have you been enjoying your time off between projects?”

Pedro nods, resting his elbow on the chair’s arm. “Yeah, it’s been nice to have a little break.”

Jimmy hums. “A little vacation, maybe?”

Pedro shifts slightly. “Something like that.”

The audience chuckles, sensing where this is going. You sink lower in your seat.

Jimmy grins as he turns toward the screen behind him. “Because, you know, the thing about vacations is… sometimes the paparazzi find you.”

And there it is.

A picture flashes on the screen— you and Pedro, standing in the middle of a quiet street in some European city, locked in a kiss. It’s not just a peck; it’s the kind of kiss that looks straight out of a movie, with his hand cradling your jaw and your fingers curled into his jacket. It’s intimate, raw, and completely undeniable.

The audience erupts into cheers, whistling and clapping.

Pedro leans back in his chair, groaning as he rubs his face with both hands. “Oh, man…”

Jimmy is grinning like a kid who just found the best gossip. “Now this is what I call a vacation, Pedro!” He turns to the audience. “Look at this, folks! That’s not just a casual kiss— that’s ‘leading man in a romance movie’ energy right there!”

You cover your face with your hands, feeling your entire body heat up.

Pedro exhales dramatically, shaking his head. “I knew you were gonna do this.”

Jimmy raises his hands innocently. “Listen, I didn’t take the picture! I’m just… appreciating the art.” He gestures to the screen. “And let’s be honest, this looks like a scene from The Last of Us if Joel actually got to be happy for once.”

The crowd laughs, and Pedro shakes his head, biting back a smile.

Jimmy leans forward. “So, come on, tell me— who is the lucky lady?”

Pedro hesitates just for a second— just enough time for Jimmy to put two and two together. His eyes widen, and then he gasps dramatically, turning toward the audience. “Wait. Is she here?”

The cheers grow louder. You bury your face in your hands again as Pedro laughs, shaking his head. “You’re evil.”

Jimmy gestures toward the side of the stage. “Come on, let’s just say hi—”

Pedro raises a hand. “No way, absolutely not. I’d like to make it home alive, thanks.”

The audience erupts into laughter. You peek up at Pedro, who’s already looking at you with that soft, knowing smile. Your face is burning, but you can’t help but smile back.

Jimmy sighs, feigning disappointment. “Fine, fine. I won’t push… for now.” Then he turns back to Pedro, grinning. “But I gotta say, man, you look really happy.”

Pedro doesn’t hesitate this time. He nods, his smile widening just a little. “Yeah,” he says simply. “I am.”

Your heart flutters.

Jimmy claps his hands together. “Well, folks, there you have it! Pedro Pascal: officially the internet’s boyfriend, but privately off the market.”

Pedro groans, but it’s playful. The interview moves on, but you can still feel his gaze flicking toward you every now and then, as if making sure you’re okay.

And the truth is— you are.

You’re more than okay.

----

983 notes · View notes

be4chywritez · 4 months ago

Text

lucky you | luke hughes

luke hughes x fem!reader

rec:#37 with Luke? Maybe he goes down on the ice and the reader freaks out when she sees him laid up? Thanks! Love your writing 🫶

prompt: Shit. Shit, shit, shit, c'mere."

recs are open + prompt list

beachy’s masterlist🐚

Luke had been wired since the moment he woke up.

Jack had noticed it immediately—the way his little brother was practically bouncing from room to room, energy barely contained, constantly checking his phone. Jack had been willing to ignore it until the loud, painfully obnoxious country music started blaring from Luke’s room.

Jack groaned, rolling over in bed and grabbing his phone, but one look at the time made him throw the blanket off instead. Storming down the hall, he banged a fist against Luke’s door. “Jesus, LUKE!”

The music lowered—not off, just low enough to be tolerable. A second later, Luke stepped out, wearing his good suit. Not his usual game-day one, but the one he only pulled out for interviews. Or—

Jack narrowed his eyes. “What’s with the good suit?”

Luke didn’t answer right away, but the small twitch of his lips gave him away. That stupid, dopey smile that made Jack want to shove him into a locker. He looked ridiculous, lovesick in the most obvious way.

“Oh, never mind,” Jack groaned. “Your girlfriend’s coming.”

Luke didn’t even try to deny it. Jack didn’t blame him—he likes you, actually. You were funny, sharp, and most importantly, you were one of the few people who could shut Luke up when he was being a pain in the ass. But watching Luke act like this? Jack could do without it.

Luke ignored the way Jack grimaced as he grabbed his bag off the floor. “Shut up, man,” he muttered, brushing past his brother. But Jack caught the way he checked his phone one last time before locking the screen.

Jack shook his head, following him out the door.

By the time you got to the arena, warm-ups were already underway. Your seat—right by the glass—gave you the perfect view as the Devils took the ice. Your eyes immediately searched for Luke.

It took a few minutes, but eventually, he spotted you.

And, just like that, his entire expression changed.

He skated over, tapping his stick against the glass. “You come here often?” he mouthed.

You laughed, rolling your eyes at him.

Luke reached into his glove and pulled out a puck, holding it up dramatically before flipping it over the glass. You caught it easily, tucking it into your lap as he gave you an approving nod.

“Lucky catch,” he mouthed, flashing a grin before skating off, but not before sneaking in a wink over his shoulder.

Your heart fluttered. He was such an idiot.

The first period was fast, aggressive. Luke had been playing well, making quick plays and smart decisions. You could tell he was locked in.

And then—

It happened so fast.

Luke was chasing the puck into the corner, his focus locked in on the play, when an opposing player came barreling into him, shoulder first. The hit landed hard.

Too hard.

The sound of the collision—Luke’s body slamming into the boards before crumpling onto the ice—made your stomach drop.

Something wasn’t right.

He wasn’t moving.

Your grip on the railing tightened as you watched, waiting, willing him to get up. Nothing.

The hit was hard. Too hard.

Luke didn’t get up.

Your heartbeat pounded in your ears.

He always got up.

Your breath caught in your throat as you stared at the ice, willing him to move. Nothing.

Jack was already there, skating over in record time. His whole body was tense, eyes darting between Luke and the guy who hit him. His fists clenched at his sides like he was seconds away from throwing down, but his focus kept shifting back to his brother.

Come on, Luke. Get up.

You barely registered the trainers rushing onto the ice, kneeling beside him, talking to him. The whole arena felt eerily silent, the energy completely different from the roaring crowd just moments ago.

Finally, Luke stirred.

Your breath whooshed out of you as he groggily pushed himself onto his side, barely nodding to the trainers. He winced when they helped him up, his weight leaning into them as they guided him toward the tunnel.

Straight to the training room.

Not the bench.

That wasn’t good.

Your stomach twisted.

Jack was still on the ice, his gaze flicking toward you, as if to check that you were seeing this too—like he knew you were probably freaking out. But his glare quickly snapped back to the guy who hit Luke, a murderous look in his eyes.

For the rest of the game, you barely paid attention. Your fingers drummed anxiously against your knee, your eyes constantly flickering to the tunnel, hoping for any update.

Nothing.

And then, finally, your phone buzzed.

Jack: Training room. I’m outside. You can come see him.

You didn’t hesitate.

By the time you made it to the hallway outside the training room, Jack was already there, still in his gear, arms crossed, looking impatient.

“He okay?” you asked, slightly breathless.

Jack sighed, tilting his head toward the door. “See for yourself.”

Luke was slumped against the training table, his good shoulder resting against the wall, looking like he was seconds from either passing out or saying something incredibly stupid. His jersey and pads were long gone, replaced by a thick wrap of ice around his left shoulder. His whole body was loose, almost boneless, but his eyes were sluggish and unfocused in a way that made it obvious he wasn’t fully present.

“Baaaaabe,” he slurred the second you stepped inside.

Jack, who was still lingering by the door, groaned audibly. “Kill me.”

You ignored him, exhaling as you stepped closer. “Jesus, Hughes. How many did they give you?”

Luke blinked at you, a slow, lazy grin spreading across his face. “Dunno. But I feel so floaty.”

Jack sighed, crossing his arms. “I told them to only give him half a dose, but he was already feeling it before I could stop them.”

Luke squinted up at you like he was trying really hard to focus. “You came,” he said, like he was just now registering that fact.

“Of course I did,” you murmured, finally reaching him, letting your hand rest lightly on his uninjured arm. “How’s the shoulder?”

Luke’s brows pulled together. He shifted like he was about to sit up straighter—

And then immediately sucked in a sharp breath, his face twisting in pain.

“Shit,” you cursed, reacting instantly. “Shit, shit, shit—c’mere.”

Your hands were on him before you even thought about it, guiding him gently back against the table. His whole body had gone tense, jaw locked, breathing uneven.

Luke let out a shaky exhale, his head tipping back against the wall as he blinked up at the ceiling. “That sucked.”

You swallowed, pressing your lips together. “Yeah, no kidding.”

Jack muttered something under his breath that sounded a lot like idiot, but you didn’t acknowledge him. Your focus was entirely on Luke—on the way he was forcing his muscles to relax, blinking sluggishly as he readjusted his position.

You reached out again, this time more careful, brushing your fingers lightly over his forearm. “You need anything?”

Luke hummed, tilting his head toward you. “A kiss.”

Jack immediately gagged.

You sighed, shooting Luke a look. “Try again.”

Luke huffed, his lips twitching like he was fighting a smirk. “Mmm… a ride home?”

You softened. “Yeah, I can do that.”

Jack perked up from his place by the door. “Wait, she’s driving?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Do you want to?”

Jack glanced at his brother—who was still slumped against the table, barely holding himself upright—then back at you. “…No.”

“Then shut up.”

Jack rolled his eyes, but he didn’t argue.

Luke, meanwhile, had a very pleased look on his face. “I love you,” he murmured, voice still slightly sluggish.

You exhaled, shaking your head with a smile. “Yeah, yeah. Come on, let’s get you home.”

Getting Luke into the car was an ordeal.

He was heavy—not in the way where he was too big for you to help, but in the way that he wasn’t doing much to help himself. Jack was the one who had to sling his arm over his shoulder and maneuver him into the passenger seat, muttering curses under his breath the whole time.

You climbed into the driver’s seat, adjusting until you were comfortable. Luke’s car was nice, but it definitely wasn’t your car.

Jack barely got himself buckled in the back before Luke was adjusting in his seat, slumping slightly to the side so his head rested against the window.

You glanced over. “You good?”

Luke made a vague noise of confirmation, eyes half-lidded. “Mmhmm.”

Jack snorted. “He’s gonna be out cold in five minutes.”

You hummed, starting the car. “Good. That means I don’t have to listen to him whine the whole way home.”

Jack huffed a quiet laugh but didn’t argue.

The first few minutes of the drive were quiet, save for the occasional sound of Luke shifting.

Then—

“Hey, babe?”

You flicked your eyes toward him briefly. “Yeah?”

Luke sighed, tilting his head slightly toward you. “You’re really good at driving my car.”

Jack let out a loud groan from the backseat. “Oh my god.”

You smirked, keeping your eyes on the road. “Glad you think so, Hughes.”

Luke hummed in response, already sounding half-asleep.

Jack sighed, resting his head against the window. “This is gonna be a long night.”

You just smiled, shaking your head as you drove the two of them home.

Luke wasn’t completely out of it—just slower, his movements lazier, his usual filter missing. He walked fine, if a little unsteady, but there was a looseness to his posture, a sleepy, heavy-lidded look in his eyes that told you the meds were still doing their job.

You kept a steady hand on his lower back, guiding him toward his room. Jack had already disappeared into his own, muttering something about not dealing with this shit before slamming his door. That left just you and Luke.

Once inside, you flicked on the lamp. “Alright, Hughes. Let’s get you changed.”

Luke sighed, dropping onto the bed. “You just wanna get my clothes off.”

You shot him a look. “Not with you like this, dumbass.”

He smirked, eyes half-lidded as they raked over you. “So you’re saying you would under different circumstances?”

You rolled your eyes, stepping closer to help him with his hoodie. “That’s not what I said.”

Luke let you tug it off, his smirk never faltering. “Didn’t say it, but you didn’t deny it.”

You huffed. “Shut up, Hughes.”

His grin widened, but he let you work. He even managed to push down his dress pants himself, though when you knelt in front of him to help, he made a low, thoughtful hum.

“This is kinda nice,” he mused, voice dipping lower. “You, on your knees for me.”

Your hands froze on his waistband. “LUKE.”

He laughed, head tipping back against the pillows. “I’m just saying.”

You smacked his thigh—not too hard, given the state he was in—and yanked the fabric off the rest of the way. “Try saying something that doesn’t make me want to kill you.”

Luke stretched out, smug and unbothered, as you tossed his clothes aside. “Can’t help it, babe. You’re taking such good care of me. It’s kinda hot.”

You ignored him, moving toward his dresser. “I need to change, too.”

That got his attention. “Into what?”

You grabbed one of his T-shirts. “Jeans aren’t exactly comfortable to sleep in.”

Luke watched, eyes darkening slightly, as you pulled off your jersey, leaving you in just a sports bra. His gaze dropped, flickering over your bare skin, then lower to the spandex hugging your thighs.

His good hand flexed slightly against his thigh. “Jesus.”

You turned back to him, pulling his oversized shirt over your head. “What?”

Luke blinked slowly. “That’s my shirt.”

You snorted. “Yeah, I know. I just took it from your drawer.”

His tongue flicked out over his bottom lip. “Yeah, but it’s my shirt. And you’re in it. Looking like that.”

You frowned, tugging at the hem. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Luke let out a slow, low breath, his fingers drumming once against his thigh before he muttered, “It means I should be injured more often.��

You huffed a laugh, moving toward the bed. “Get under the covers before I make Jack put you to bed.”

Luke smirked but did as you said, shifting under the blankets. The second you slid in beside him, his good arm immediately pulled you in, his fingers finding your waist.

“You know,” he murmured, his lips brushing your temple, “if I wasn’t so tired, I’d make you regret putting that on.”

His fingers skimmed just under the fabric. “Yeah. I’d take my time peeling it off… starting real slow.”

You snorted. “Mmm. Sounds like a lot of effort for someone who could barely put his own pants on.”

Luke tensed slightly. “…I could still do it.”

You bit back a laugh. “Sure, Hughes.”

His fingers twitched. “Don’t ‘sure, Hughes’ me.”

You turned your head, letting your lips graze his jaw, voice dropping to a whisper. “Then prove it.”

Luke inhaled sharply—actually sharp—before going completely still.

You grinned. “What? No snarky comeback?”

He blinked, processing. “I—I…” He huffed, shaking his head. “Not fair.”

You laughed. “Oh, it’s completely fair.”

Luke groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “Jesus. I’m never getting injured again.”

You patted his chest. “Good plan.”

Luke sighed, finally relaxing again. His voice was softer when he murmured, “You’re taking good care of me, babe.”

You smirked. “Well, someone has to.”

Luke huffed, eyes already slipping shut. “Lucky me.”

You smiled, letting your fingers brush lightly over his side. “Yeah,” you whispered. “Lucky you.”

And with that, Luke Hughes—NHL player, hockey menace, and normally way too cocky for his own good—fell asleep with a slight pink tinge to his ears.

And that? That was a win.

#be4chywrites #nhl x reader #luke hughes blurb #luke hughes fic #luke hughes imagine #luke hughes x reader

1K notes · View notes

belovedcloud · 1 year ago

Text

Such A Sweetheart

pairing: sugar daddy! leon kennedy x fem! reader

✎ synopsis: you need money quick, and what's a good way of getting quick money? a sugar daddy. you find a man but he treats you so good that maybe this may blossom into something other than a transactional relationship?

✎ notes: this is a longgggg one, i decided to try making a long one and writing this up at work every day for weeks was a struggle but i did it! if only sugar daddy leon was real :(

➤ WC: 10K

➤ CW: age gap, reader is in low 20's whilst leon is low 40's, talks about leon's alcohol struggles and practically his life, reader wears a dress, oral, fingering, dirty talk kinda??? not really, lots of kisses, maybe something more than a sugar daddy and sugar baby relationship, p in v, cumming on you, fluff at the end.

MINORS DNI!

Leon Scott Kennedy was a dirty man. That's how he saw himself. The masses of bioweapons he killed every mission tarnished his being. There was no escape for him. Nothing could save him from what he saw fit for his life. All he could ever be was tool for the government, someone who they could rely on each time to discard the tragedies of the world. They didn't care who they affected, as long as the government were safe that's all that mattered.

Leon knew that. He knew he wouldn't be able to leave. Leaving the job behind was a massive no. What if something happened? What if another incident like Raccoon City occurred?

He was bound to everything of horror. Gore, blood, death. He had seen it all, he had experienced it all. The killings of his superior, Jack Krauser alongside the dumpster of death that trailed beside Leon. It was his shadow. All he could do was bare with it. Nothing could save him, until you came around.

You needed money - just being able to live was costly and jobs were going left, right and centre. No matter what you did, you couldn't grab a job. It was out of your reach. You flooded every company with applications; they were bound to have known you by now. Despite that, an interview was never handed to you. Rent was coming up and what else could you do?

Find a sugar daddy? It was your only choice so... yeah. You were going to find a sugar daddy.

Doing some research and finding out that there were multiple sites to find one. Clicking on the top site, sugardaddykwiky.com, brought you to profiles of many men. Many older men. You weren't going to be picky, there was no time to pick and choose who you wanted.

Clicking on your profile, you start to upload pictures of yourself. No explicit ones, just ones of your face and a safe for work full body image of yourself. Furthermore, to try and attract more men you type a little description about you. This would entice for men right? Soon enough, your little question was answered. Yes. Men flooded your messages, nearly all of them sending the same message of 'Hey' with a pet name in front of it. Maybe you were going to be picky, they all weren't that attractive. Extremely plain and non-lovable.

Reminding yourself that this wasn't a dating site but a site of seeking money you required, your fingers continued to scroll until a request popped up at the top of the screen.

['LSKENNEDY' wants to chat!]

Leon was shitting himself. He didn't know why or how he was so nervous but it was linked to you. You looked so sweet and innocent, no explicit images nor anything sexual of the sort. It wasn't his type of thing to see tits shoved in his face or somebodies legs spread across the camera. You were different. It was as though you weren't just selling your body to get quick cash.

Scrolling down he read your interests. His eager eyes scanning through your description once then again, and again. Continuously reading before taking a glance at the few pictures he was granted to see of you. He drank in your face, such pretty features plastered on you made his heart flutter.

If you were to take him as your sugar daddy, he made a mental promise to himself that he would take you out on countless dates. Spoil you rotten until you couldn't take it anymore. All it came down to was luck.

Leon was lonely. He was a lonely man. The thought of you brought a sliver of solace into his body. Perhaps you could distract him from chaotic life he lived in. Leon craved love not lust. A deep groan left his lips as he knocked back another glass of whiskey. The malty liquid seeping into the lines of his lips, travelling down his throat. His phone was no longer bright, it was pitch black. A reminder of how his life was.

Before Raccoon City, Leon dreamt one day he would find a love that would course though his life. A deep affection that would last for many years. Decades even. The proposal of a family was always deep in Leon's mind when he was younger. Sure, it was stored away as he didn't find himself to be fit for family life at such a young age... But he knew he would want one some day.

That suggestion slowly dissipated when he gradually got older. He still kept some of his features, that being his dirty blonde hair or his baby blue eyes. But they were permanent. His youthful skin creased and aged overtime and a stern look was etched into face. Completely juxtaposing what he looked like 20 years ago. Yet, your face lingered in his mind as he downed another glass of whiskey.

His phone still remained off as he stared into the wall in front of him. To any normal person it would have been a blank chantry coloured wall. Leon saw it differently as depictions of you clouded his head and vision.

What the fuck was going on with him?

Was this a joke? He believed it was his mind playing tricks on him due to excessive amount of alcohol he consumed. Even after chugging a glass of water to try and sober himself, he still saw you. It annoyed him but not only annoyance filled him. A sense of peace too. The two feelings juxtaposed each other, as if they were fighting to see who would win.

Leon got up, trying to distract the inner conflict he faced. Closing the curtains and sitting in a room of absolute darkness. To no avail the image of you popped up. A growl scrapped his lips as he rubbed his face. His body slouched on the couch, rolling his head back as another noise vacated from him.

He had to do something.

Smacking down the couch he sat on with his calloused hand, he yearned to find his phone. The device jumped up slightly from the force of Leon's actions - soon enough he snatched it up. His thumbpad drummed the screen twice, the light penetrating his eyes as he staggered to find the power button.

"Fucking hell.." A squinted look appeared on his face whilst he scrolled the brightness down. Leon's dull eyes pried at his device, swiping up just to see you again. Fuck. He didn't delete the tab.

You looked gorgeous. An angel in his eyes. Even though you were young and in your low 20's. His mind processed the information once again. Should he feel ashamed? Disgusted? Was he at fault for wanting something romantic with you - even if you were 2 decades younger than him? Surely not, you were of legal age and willing put yourself on the website. The underlying feeling of guilt was questionable to him.

This wasn't wrong per se. It just felt like it.

His leg quivered slightly, his calve continuously smacking the bottom of his couch. Leon's eyes peered into the screen. Why was he so nervous? Get a grip, he thought to himself. A deep sigh left his lips as minutes passed - no response from you.

Your eyes flickered on his profile, an older man of course but... God was he handsome. His blue eyes called out to you, alluring you in to look at his other features. How was a man so beautiful? Early 40's nor did his description have anything sexual. It was quite basic - the perception of secrecy interweaved in it.

Nervously, the pads of your fingers moved subconsciously. Your body scrambled into your bed. The comfort of it didn't ease your heart as you clicked [Accept Request].

Leon's fingers kept refreshing the website to see if you had accepted his request. To his surprise and pleasure, you did. His heart pounded deeply within him, his shaky movements transferred himself into the chat. The miniature profile icon of your face made him go into awe. Your face was truly hypnotic. His lips pressed against the rim of his glass, shakily holding it to his lips to a point where the glass clattered against his teeth.

Leon decided the best option was to at least start the conversation off. What could he say? Perhaps the best option would to go down the basic route, however, by now you must have had multiple men just saying the same thing over and over again. His gaze focused on his phone, his eyes practically burning through the keyboard glazing over the letters trying to figure out a way to wow you.

The constant overthinking led him to not even figuring out a message to send you as your chat-box appeared on his mobile. Frowning to himself, he thought he was pathetic to a point where he couldn't even type to you. He wasn't this nervous in real life so what was going on now? In others eyes, he had charisma even when talking to a few women... But even a simple text message to you and he was about to piss himself.

Your fingers swiftly left a message, you even felt yourself getting nervous. The other chats you faced with different men usually led to the route of using your body to please them. Or they sent their half limped dick positioned in the middle of their palm trying to turn you on. It could be that this Leon Kennedy guy would contrast them. A twinge of hope stay put in your heart to hope so.

After all, he was hot.

You: hi! :)

Leon: Hey sweetheart, how are you?

It was a basic way to start of the conversation. Pretty pathetic in Leon's eyes but he had no idea on what else he could say. A shaky breath left his lips, adjusting himself on his couch trying to get cozy. The pads of his fingers tapping impatiently on the phone case. The inkling of worry still lingered within him as his mind reminded him of your age.

Instantly, a message came through on his behalf. Leon wasted no time to read over your message, he felt like a teenage boy again.

'For Christ sake... Keep it together.'

You: i'm alright, i saw that you aren't really like those other men on here. you're not like showing your dick in your profile or something.

A low laugh erupted from Leon's lips. You did see him different and honestly good. He wasn't one for going straight into the sexual stuff. Even at his age, early 40's and all, he still craved the affection you would receive in a normal relationship. He knew the love would be dependent on the money he sent you - it was better than no love at all.

Typing back with a small smile on his face, his legs uncontrollably stood him up. He walked over to his room, the light thud following him ominously. A dim light covered his figure as he sat down on the edge of his bed, hitting send.

Leon: We'd only get into that if you want to, but I prefer us to know each other a bit more. Don't you?

To say Leon was correct was an understatement, it was like a breath of fresh air. Whilst you wouldn't mind getting in his pants, for a man to not want sex sex sex was refreshing. Yes, it was the bare minimum. Did it make you way more interested though? Absolutely.

A giddy wave of happiness spread into your veins as you kicked your legs up and down. An actual conversation! You could even feel yourself becoming slightly turned on. A little wet patch forming in the middle of your panties. God.. Was this really happening now? Getting turned on by the bare minimum a man could offer?

You: yeah, i would honestly :) it's really refreshing to see someone wanting to talk

The conversation prolonged for an hour or two, both of you understanding the boundaries that Leon and you put place to make this agreement as comfortable as possible. Nonetheless, you were happy with how he was and Leon was ecstatic to know you better. Regardless of the cost that came with it.

He believed that a person like you deserved to spoilt rotten. Just the way you acted with such grace - you were heavenly. Someone who he was happy enough to show you the wonders that money could give you. Alongside his love, but Leon was nervous. He was nervous that you wouldn't understand why he would be gone for days at a time with no response. There was no way in hell he would be able to just tell you straight up that he worked for the DSO. Let alone that he killed B.O.W's.

He pushed his thoughts aside realizing he hadn't even told you how much he would pay you for your time with him. Texting a quick message, he chewed on his bottom lip. The dull ache of it pumping, giving it a faux heartbeat. Pressing send, he groaned into his pillow. The scent of soft linen contrasted the smell of alcohol that loitered on his bedside table. His backup bottle of whiskey awaiting for him to gulp it down like usual.

Instead he resisted, not relying on the alcohol to knock him out. Leon didn't want to drink himself to sleep like usual, he wanted to chat to you a little longer.

It was hard for him to get used to the slang and language you used, back in the 90's the way of communication was way different. After a few key points of explaining he got the meaning of it all. Reminiscing on what you both were talking about moments before - he read back his last message.

Leon: So how much money do you want for your time?

A very simple question for a very simple answer. Wrong. Not in your eyes anyways. You felt bad if you requested too much, you didn't even know how much he made nor how much he had currently. This in itself was the riskiest part of the deal. Would he think you were just a gold digger? Genuine fear paced around you, he wasn't a man who you just wanted to fuck to get money from. Perhaps you were being delusional but you seriously wanted to get to know him. Even perhaps have a relationship blossom between the both of you. Or was that too much to ask for?

Being a sugar baby wasn't toilsome. Whilst you would make him happy, he would reward you with gifts, money.. deep down you even wanted some pleasure. Plausibly, you began to think that Leon would think you were some brat. Even to a point where he'd believe you were some dumb bimbo cock slut who needed cash.

Shit. You needed to reply quick.

Leon was wondering to himself if he did something wrong. Was his question too straight-forward? Too dry? He was always told he wasn't the best at texting. That his texting habits seemed as though he was uninterested at any topic he would text about. He blinked continuously at the screen, this was his first time even trying to get a sugar baby. Were you no longer interested?

He needed your attention, after getting to know you over text he longed to understand more of you. What was it you really wanted? Cash or love? Was it that you were corroded with lust and needed to get dicked down or did you want something romantic? In all honestly both options together sounded like the perfect relationship to Leon. A couple who would love each other both ways, sexually and romantically. That's how a relationship works right? In his eyes anyways.

Leon's mind was clouded with random scenarios of you and him both. He wanted to try all of them out, some less naughty than others but all of them were good in his eyes. Shopping dates getting what you wanted or his head between your thighs giving you what you needed. He felt his jeans tighten around his crotch area. Fuck. Was he really getting off to the idea of just making you happy? Leon's hand travelled down to his bulge. A light squeeze only makes it harden more - can you blame him? You were so beautiful and all he wanted was to treat you right.

A heavy groan elicited out of Leon's throat, waiting for you to respond as he tried to calm himself down. He yearned for your answer. The bouncing of the 3 dots encased around a text bubble enabled Leon to let out a sigh of relief. Taking a deep breath, he eagerly watched for the message he needed.

You: i really don't mind, i don't want to seem greedy or anything so you can choose how much to give me! :)

Shit. How sweet could a girl be? Not only did you agree to be his sugar baby but you didn't mind how much he would pay you for your time? Leon's throat was dry as he took in another breath, trying to calm the bundle of nerves rising inside of his body. His fingers lightly tapped the glass screen in front of him, juxtaposing his thudding heart.

Being a government agent, despite all the trauma from his missions and the devastating events such as in Spain or in China. It gives a hefty sum of money. With the title of 'Government Agent' hung over him, he could afford to spend thousands on you. And he would.

Leon: Don't worry love, how about $1000 for our first meet up? Plus I'll get you whatever you want after a nice lunch. How does that sound?

$1000?! That was basically your rent done minus some utility bills. For one day? Not even a day, a few hours! That was more than what any job paid you for 2 weeks. Shuffling to lay comfortable in your bed, your fingers uncontrollably type a message to Leon showing your thanks to his generosity.

You: $1000?? you really don't have to give me that much but if you do then i really appreciate it! when are you next free?

A small smile appeared on Leon's lips as he read your text back, his body slightly shook from excitement as his eyes traced over your message. He was free most of the time... Well, when he wasn't fighting for his life that is. Leon's missions were quite sporadic at times, not allowing him to have a proper work schedule. In this situation, it was an annoying thing to explain - nonetheless, he wouldn't be able to tell you about it just yet.

His job was risky. Risky business that he didn't want to get you involved in.

Something always hung above Leon's head. Never once in his life after 1998 did he get any peace of mind. It was pure torture to live sometimes. A straight bullet in the head would have ended everything for him. Within Leon, there was a feeling of perseverance. He wasn't allowed to die. Who else could kill the bioweapons and destructive beings that tormented the planet? If only he didn't sign up to go to Raccoon City. That fateful night changed his whole perspective on life. A renewed thought process that could kill the normal human. He himself didn't understand how he could cope. The only answer to him was alcohol, day and night. Bottles stashed in places to feed into his intoxicated addiction.

It saved him; it killed him.

You could perhaps cure the chaos and wreck that occurred in his mind. He was fixated on you. Purely you. He would guide you through the sugar baby life, hand you anything you wanted. Just for your love. Whether or not it was real love, Leon didn't seem to mind. Well - not on the surface at least.

Alone in his apartment, slowly becoming uncomfortable with the solitude that laid next to him. He typed out a message, hoping to see you tomorrow. Next week at the latest. Leon needed a change from his mundane life. Only you could expedite a change within his character.

You were the answer.

Leon: I'm free tomorrow, I can pick you up at noon.

Trailing over the message, you couldn't wait to see him. The whole purpose of tonight was to find a sugar daddy, you got one but he seemed different. Separate from the other lustful men you met on this site. In fact he was different from any man you have ever met. The long hours of the night that you usually had was replaced with a conversation that uplifted your mood and your bank.

Nimble fingers tapped on the keyboard, the phone screen lighting up your face - highlighting the little upturned expression you had plastered on. Impatient to see Leon, you send a fast response back. Demonstrating your need to meet him.

You: okay! i'll see you then, goodnight <3

Feeling happy in your heart, it seemed as though he filled a little hole in your heart. As well as the dissipating view of constant stress you had thinking about your rent due for the month. Things finally started lifting up for you. Maybe now you wouldn't think that you were going to develop wrinkles and grey hairs at such an early age. Being a sugar baby didn't seem all that bad. Flourishing at such a young age without the worry of lack of money seemed good in your books. Granted that others may think lowly of you, who were you to care about someone else's opinion when you prosper in the generosity that Leon was going to bring to you.

A impending thought built within you. This was morally right... right? Taking a lonely mans money didn't really feel like the best idea especially when reading back on the conversation you realized he wasn't some sex freak. He just craved to love and be loved. Were you able to bring him that satisfaction?

A soft smile appeared on Leon's face as he read your message, tomorrow he would be able to meet you. See that pretty face that he's been thirsting to look at for the past few hours of chatting. His fingers constantly tapping on the mini picture next to your chats to zoom into your face. He couldn't get enough of you. His mind purely fixated on you and only you. Was this a curse or a blessing?

Once switching off his phone, he again sat in isolation. Dejection spread all over him as a deep sigh scraped his throat. Why was he always so alone? Even laying in bed for an hour never made it warm, his side cold and the empty space next to him was practically frozen. Leon was going through a rough patch in his life - this patch being 20 years was excessive but he honestly couldn't get out of it. Chained down to his own solitude and remoteness of his home was too much.

Too much for a singular man who just wanted a family of his own one day.

Laying in his own self loathing, Leon breaths slowly mellowed. Keeping himself calm, taking his mind off you slightly - attempting to sleep. To no avail, he still couldn't tranquil his racing heart. A shaky breath soon followed as he crumbled into the soft sheets he bought for himself. Rich and silky cloth immersed his silhouette, his hand over his chest. Leon could feel his heart. Pumping and pumping, the skittish irregular heart embodied his attitude to the situation at hand. Fluttering his eyelids shut, the scenarios of you and him started all over again. Just this time, they felt more real. You were within his reach as his mind continue to run with excitement, love and pure unadulterated desire.

That night, he didn't have a nightmare. No horror; no fear. There wasn't a dream per se, it was just a night of sleep.

Leon's face wasn't twisted with a frown, his lips were slightly parted. Slowly drying as he huffed out a few breaths in his sleep. Dirty blonde locks covering his eyes as a peaceful expression smothered him. The recurring night terrors of Raccoon City didn't appear tonight. Nightmarish prospects didn't shine through his soundless mind to haunt him. The zombies? Gone. The blood? Gone. All remained was a man who just deserved tranquility.

Tonight, he got what he was entitled to.

The blinding sun peeked through Leon's blinds, his body thanked him for the rest. No aching muscles like usual, he leisurely pried his eyes open, a quiet yawn eliciting out of his mouth. God, how late was it? Leon stretched his body whilst he adjusted himself to the light shining through, practically blinding him at first. His fingers tapped against the smooth wood nightstand as he searched for his phone wearily. Clasping his hand around the device he held it to his chest, switching it on to check the time. The bold numbers spoke to him, highlighting 09:30 AM.

Groaning to himself, he got up rubbing his eyes tiredly. Leon got a full nights rest. Unusual but needed a small smile laced his face as he realized what he had to do today. He was going to see you for the first time.

Swinging his legs out of bed, cracking a few places in his bed. A sigh of relief left his lips. Getting up was always the hardest part of his day but today it was the easiest knowing he was looking forward to something which wasn't work related. This time, it was to seek your love, to treat you to whatever you wanted - he was happy to do that. Overjoyed even.

For you it was no different, well except your rapid heartbeat when you realized that this was real. That you were going to see your sugar daddy. Could you even call him that right now? You had to ensure that you looked your greatest for today, it was the least you could do as this man was literally paying you for being there.

Doing your casual routine was normal as usual, your fingers just a little bit shaky from the nerves that coursed through your veins. Hindering your movements slightly as you felt yourself get jumpier by the second. Going through your closet, you choose something you don't really seem to wear often. A dress. A flowy one, he'd like that right? Taking a wild guess and praying to whoever is above you threw it on and fixed up your hair. Midway through, the mobile device on the counter buzzed, catching your attention.

Rinsing and drying your hands, you snatched the phone up and inspected the notification that stood out to you. It was him. You felt your body heating up, your eyes tracing the message.

Leon: I'm outside sweetheart, hope you sent me the right address. :)

Fuck. Outside already? You retract that statement as you swiped down to check the time. Oh. It was already noon. Checking yourself in the mirror, your legs rush downstairs as you put on a pair of heels. You had psych yourself up to even see him. Looking through the little peephole, you saw him.

He was just as handsome as he was online. Even more so in real life. Your heart was pounding, he could probably hear it across the door. Tremulously, your fingers wrapped around your door handle, slightly pushing it down to open the door. Fuck, you got this. It was only a date, and all you had to do was act normal. Normal and sweet. Leon picked you for a reason!

The moment he saw you, his breath hitched. He nearly choked with the air that stood in his throat, his eyes travelling down your figure with the dress that hugged your curves but still flowed with the slight current hitting your body. Leon couldn't believe it, seeing you was heaven right in front of him. A sense of desire permeated his body, longing to touch you. To make you his - he had to stay put. For his own sake.

"Wow, uh hi." A mumble left Leon's throat soon after he cleared it. Nervous couldn't even elucidate his very being after being blessed to even look at you. It wasn't only him with a stomach full of knots wondering if this day was going to turn south.

"Hey, you look... good?" You chuckled out awkwardly. Great start. Embarrassed within yourself, you try and think of something else to say but Leon's words cut through your thoughts. His voice is smooth and rich, like honey, a slight rasp laced in the tone which allures you in.

"Thank you sweetheart, you look beautiful." Too beautiful. His hands slightly twitched, a hunger in Leon wanting to ravish you as his eyes inadvertently trailed down your figure again. Heat bloomed in both of you, eyes practically fucking each other but who was going to act first?

Taking you to his car, Leon's hand glided over the passenger door handle, opening it up for you. A small smile plastered on his lips as his gravelly voice welcomed you in. The leather feel of the car seat hugged your body, adjusting yourself to strap yourself in. Leon soon entered after as he pulled the seatbelt over himself - turning on the ignition at the same time. A comfortable silence hung in the air as the vehicle took you to where Leon wanted to treat you. One hand on the wheel and the other clasping the gearshift to make the ride as smooth as possible.

"Do you want lunch first or do you want to go shopping?" His voice sliced through the tranquility that once lay around you both. Oh wow, so he was serious on treating you? Fiddling with your thumbs you wondered to yourself how you should answer him. Your stomach answered for you very quietly as you looked out the window.

"Lunch, if that's okay?" Your response back made Leon smile as he took a swift turn left, rolling into a small family owned diner. The aesthetically pleasing restaurant enticed you as he guided you inside. Opening the door for you and making the cliché comment 'Ladies first.' The place itself was cozy and warm, a welcoming aura embedded within it as you sat down at one of the booths. Leon, sat across from you, couldn't help but flicker his gaze on you every once in a while as you looked on the menu.

"Found anything you like?" He asked as he flipped through the menu himself, eyeing on the steak pictured in the booklet. His blue eyes soon bored into yours when you met his gaze. A soft smile resting on your face.

"Yeah, I think I know what I want." The softness of your voice was a melody to Leon. A voice that could calm him down even when he felt so nervous just seeing you. A channel of peace that he needed, a tune that could calm him even through the horrors that he faced.

Lunch went smoothly, the chatter amongst you two eased out into a blossoming relationship. Far better than just texting over two measly devices. Leon's gaze wondered over you as you spoke, completely in awe as he thanked himself for going on the website yesterday night. Your beauty surpassed all beings, inside and out you were gorgeous in his eyes. The interests you both shared in music tastes, hobbies and whatnot brought you both together. As if there was chemistry between you two, that idea that you already knew each other so well. You didn't just seem like a sugar baby in his eyes - you were someone who he sought love in. A person who Leon wanted to cherish in every way. The same concept lingered within you too, his presence calmed you down but comforted you in ways you didn't know were possible. He was your sugar daddy, yours.

Still, you and Leon wanted something more with each other. Desires that needed to be satiated soon.

Leon's card pinged as he paid for the meal, the waiter giving his thanks for the generous tip he left. Seeing him waltz off with the tray in his hand. Love filled your body watching Leon treat others so nicely. Fuck. You were falling fast. Too fast that it was scarily fun. His dirty blonde hair covering his eyes ever so slightly, his clean hands slotting the card back into his wallet. The slight veins protruding out, allowing your eyes to travel up his exposed forearms. Moles littered all over them alongside some arm hair.

His watch gleamed from the LED lights above you both, your eyes trailed all over him. This didn't go unnoticed as a little smirk plastered Leon's face. He was about to speak until the waiter came back.

"Here, it's on the house. Candy bags for both of you." The waiter grinned, placing two bags of candy in front of you. Candy? I mean, free candy is always nice. Thank you's left your mouth and Leon inspected the candy inside. Lollipops, hard candy, chewy... Before he looked up, he heard a wrapper rustle.

Your fingers tugged on the wrapper of the lollipop, undressing it for the ball of sugar that stood on a stick. His eyes gazed as you popped it in your mouth. A soft hum of approval muffled between the lollipop and your lips. Those soft plump lips that Leon kept looking at. A pang of jealousy flowed in his veins as he saw the way your tongue swirled the lollipop.

This was going to be a long day.

The ride to the mall was short, the same lollipop in your mouth as your tongue slowly was painted it's colour. You knew the effect you had on him, your head went crazy seeing his eyes glance at you often. No longer to your body, but to those pretty lips you had wrapped around your lollipop. Teasing him a bit more, a quick kitten lick around it made Leon suppress back a groan. Biting his lip hard and snapping his head the other way - pleading to whoever was up there to help him breathe a little.

Delving back into the bag, you grabbed two more lollipops as the mall was close. A small smirk thinning out your lips. Putting them into your purse, the drive came to a close. Leon shifted slightly to ease the stress in his pants. A bit too tight for his liking. Clicking the button, the seatbelt unraveled itself as he got out of his car. Walking over to the passenger side, opening the door up for you.

Taking your hand into his, he guided you out the vehicle, his other arm wrapping around your waist - his hand lightly squeezing it. The large establishment shadowed over you both whilst you walked towards it. Your heart pacing quickening with each step, Leon's hold on you was comforting yet enchanting. An immeasurable thirst building within you.

Shop after shop, Leon's hands started to become full of strings that held up the bags of clothing, makeup and whatnot you decided to get. No objections left him as you picked up something. You want it? You get it. Being treated to that sweet smile you gave him when he said 'yes' was all he could ever want. False. He needed your lips around his cock as he saw you continuously licking and sucking on your second lollipop of the day. That sugary rush secreting in your body, making you a little more hyper than usual.

Leon found himself mentally shouting at his thoughts. The grip on the strings that held the pretty clothes you got for yourself became tight as he scrutinized you. Unable to control himself, a huff left his lips as he continued to see you sucking on the sugary ball.

Fantasizing about you for so long led him to forget what you both were actually doing. Snapping back into reality, he looked away from you and saw you walk into a lingerie shop. Hold on. Wait, what the fuck? Lingerie shop. Leon's breath hitched as he walked in, seeing all the different mannequins brandish the laced items of clothing. He could picture you in the multitude of lingerie pieces that surrounded him - he honestly believed he was going insane. Your arm interlaced with his as you escorted him to the mass amount of fabric beautifully designed for your body.

A smug smile sketched itself on your face as you saw a set of lingerie, grabbing your attention immediately. Taking the lollipop out of your mouth, a string of saliva connecting you both together - you turn your head to Leon.

"What about this set?" A faux innocence entangled in your tone as your eyelashes flutter at him, the lollipop glistening under the light. Leon forced down a groan as he looked at you - seems like this first meeting was going to turn south at this point. His dick was basically throbbing imagining you in it. How pretty your tits would be, the way he would worship every curve on you.

Damn it. He couldn't think straight.

"Get it." A demanding tone elicited out of his throat, an almost growl as he saw your fingers pick at what cup size you were. The tips of your fingers rubbing against the material, weaving your way through it all. Grabbing what you needed, you looked at him - hunger was apparent in his eyes. He feasted on you, his eyes fucking you once again. Leon couldn't wait anymore, he led you to the till point. His fingers taking out a wad of cash, passing the notes over to the cashier. Not bothering to get his change, he ushered you out.

You could feel yourself getting wet again. What was this spell he had on you? He could just magically cast on you a haze of desire strictly for him. The grip of his hand on yours was tight as he paved the way towards his car. One hand held yours as the other carried the bundle of bags you accumulated in a few hours. Reaching his destination, you stood beside him as he situated the bags in the back of the vehicle, Leon's face in immense concentration as he imagined you in the set. The bulge in his pants becoming heavier and more apparent whilst he led you into the passenger seat. Although he was tense with endless longing for you, his hands were gentle as his fingers lingered on your body for a little while longer than usual. With you in the car, he slammed the car door shut, hurrying over to his side - entering in swiftly.

"You're a damn tease." Leon's voice was hoarse as he started the ignition, his head turned side to side as he reversed. Looking at you from the corner of his eye, he concentrated on that little smile you had on for him. That fucking lollipop still in your mouth. You were a minx.

"I don't know what you're talking about." A teasing tone left your throat, finishing the lollipop and licking your lips to get that sugar coating off. He couldn't help but groan at the sight. His hand slowly wandered off the gearshift and onto your thigh. You could feel a gentle squeezing sensation travel up to your heat. Leon's palm gradually nearing closer and closer - reminding you who was in control.

The sounds of gravel mushing against the wheels of the vehicle alerted you of the end of the journey. However the house in front of you was not one you knew. Leon's house stood proud as the exterior design bestowed a sensation of luxury. Parking the car, he turned his attention to you - looking at you with the same message of need and lust.

"Do me a favour sweetheart," he spoke gravelly, turning to grab a bag from the backseat. "Put this on for me will you?" The tips of your fingers grazed his whilst he passed you the bag. The lingerie combination awaiting to be clung to your body. A nimble nod left you as your throat felt dry. Compressing your thighs together to relieve yourself of the ache for a few seconds, you view Leon as he gets out of the car - going to open your side for you. A slight shake in your legs was visible when you walked towards the front door. The sound of keys jangling looped your ears as your eyes laid upon the inside of the building.

It was beautiful.

The tidiness of the place was outstanding as you walked in. Looking at the place was short-lived as Leon took you into the master bathroom. Your fingers weaved between the strings of the bag gradually opening it up and taking out the prized object. He gave your waist a squeeze and left you inside to change out of your outfit into the revealing piece he bought you.

Leon's heart was racing, his steps to his bedroom was heavy. Opening the door he was welcomed into the familiar room, the scent of freshness coming from his humidifier. Straightening out the sheets, closing the blinds and dimming the lights he palmed his erection slightly. Light pants vacated him, trying to get his thoughts together. You were doing things to him that he hadn't felt in a long time. Looking around the room to make sure everything was perfect, his thoughts were cut short hearing the creaking sound next to him.

There you stood. Your curves accentuated by the set, your bare skin captivating Leon. You felt your breath hitch, awaiting for him to say something. But actions spoke louder than words, his hands slowly caressing your sides.

"Beautiful..." A soft mumble came from him, eying you down with passion. His calloused hands brushing over the smoothness of your skin. This sight only for him. A view that nobody else was lucky enough to see. He reached out, his hand coming to rest on your hip, his fingers digging into you. Pulling you closer, his body pressed up against yours - you fit so snug against him. Leon bent down, his lips finding the sensitive skin of your neck as he steered you both to the bed. The covers hugging your body as you plopped down, his knee propped in-between both of your legs.

The pressure of your clothed clit against his knee elicited a moan out of you. Dripping onto the fabric of his jeans, creating a darker colour on them. The smudge of your essence spread quickly as his knee continued to slightly rub up and down. Whimpers could be heard from you whilst your body pleaded for more. More of him.

"Please..." A choked whisper came from you, pleading with him to give you more. To reward you more of his touch. Leon looked at you, already so needy for him. Such a pretty sight glancing down at his knee, your panties clinging onto your puffy pussy. His hand stroked your side as he peppered kisses on your neck. Leon's teeth nipping at your delicate flesh - making a deep mark on you.

"Patience love, I want to take my time with you." He mumbled into your neck, his voice vibrating against your skin - tickling you ever so slightly. How could he call you a tease when he was prolonging this for so long?

Your hips stuttered, trying to push yourself over the edge as you rode out his knee impatiently. Your slick made it easier for you to get the sensation you longed for. His wet kisses travelled down from your neck to your collarbone - sucking and nibbling to mark you as his. Pornographic moans drew out of your throat, nearly bringing Leon over the edge already. He couldn't get enough of you. It was like you were some succubus drawing him in with every sound that became trapped in the four walls that confided you both. Addictive.

Lifting himself off you slightly, he removed the straps off your body, slipping the material down slightly. Your tits bouncing slightly from the action. A twinge of embarrassment loomed over your face - your hands shying him away as you covered yourself up.

"Sweetheart, what are you doing?" His eyes flickered up to meet yours - seeing your face he knew damn well what you were thinking. "Don't cover yourself up, you're gorgeous..." His thumbs caressed both of your hands. Avoiding his gaze, which Leon didn't like, you stutter out a response.

"M'just nervous." Feeling self conscious within yourself, you expected Leon to get frustrated. Contradicting your thought process, he placed a tender kiss on your soft lips.

"It's okay to be nervous, do you wanna stop?" His fingers held your chin, pulling you to look at him. A slight shake of your head signaled you didn't want him to stop. His kiss made you feel warm. Safe. Hesitating slightly, you pulled your hands away - allowing him to see your upper chest fully.

"Thank you love," He fondled with your breasts, his fingers leisurely rubbing the nubs on them. "All this f'me... So fucking pretty." Without warning, his lips wrapped around one of your nipples. Swirling around the hard bud clingily. He practically drooled over your tits as he looked up - seeing your scrunched up face in pure bliss. The sensitivity of your nipples caused you to shiver slightly. A small smirk grew on his face as he continued his ministrations on your boobs. Appreciating them, kissing them, sucking them. He couldn't have enough.

The cold air hit your skin as he unlatched his lips, kissing down your stomach. He could cum just from doing this. His fingers hooked under the fabric, prying it off you until he took the top half off. He pinched your nipple whilst littering your body with his soft kisses. A gasp leaving your lips, your nipples hardening from the coldness. Leon moaned as he felt his hips buck subconsciously into the bed, he was so needy for you. His body dependent on yours - the heat radiating from your frame made his cock throb with an ache that needed to be sated.

But no. He needed to make you cum on his tongue. God. Leon has to taste your essence. A craving that he could attain now that he shifted you further up the mattress. Propping himself to dive into your slick cunt. Manicured nails feathered through the locks of his hair, a shudder leaving him as he glanced up at you one last time. Telepathically asking for your consent when he removed your soaked panties.

"Mhm..." The mumble was quiet, but he heard nonetheless. You knew he did as he licked the slit of your pussy, a growl like groan leaving him whilst he sunk his head back down the apex of your thighs.

Skillful movements of his tongue became unmistakable, flicking it up and down on your clit. Mixing it along with a few kisses and sucking motions - it brought tears to your eyes.

Your heart and mind craving more, juxtaposing your movements as you were out of control.

Trying to push him away - feeling your orgasm slowly build up. To no avail, Leon pressed his hands down, suppressing you to the quilt and him. Sandwiched in what was going to give you an enchanting release, your fingers bunched up his hair to pull on it. Giving you some sort of control in the situation. This granted you a moan from Leon, still persevering to make you cum.

The bridge of his nose rocking into your clit, multiple wet sounds coming out of his mouth. Your pussy gushing at his experience, Leon needed you to cum. Hearing your gasping moans whilst his mouth transferred itself to your clit made him double take if he even needed to fuck you to cum. Just pleasuring you was getting him off to a point where he thought he would cum in his boxers if you carried on spoiling him with the gratification of giving you oral.

"Leon, m'so close!" The whine fleeing out of your mouth did it for him. He lifted his mouth off you; meanwhile your head shot up no longer feeling his tongue anymore. Before you could protest, Leon spat on his fingers, coating them well in order to put them inside of you. Your walls tightened whilst he would piston them deep - curling them so good at your g-spot. Alongside with his mouth returning back to your bundle of nerves.

An otherworldly feeling rose within you as you sputtered out filthy moans. Leon's lips curled into a smile, feeling that you were about to cum on his fingers. Muffled since he was sandwiched between both of your thighs he spoke out, a sultry tone laced with it.

"Cum f'me baby, come on." Those words sent you over the edge. The crispiness of his voice echoed in your ears as you felt that impending orgasm finally release. Screaming his name, embedding chants of thanks, he rubbed soft circles on your clit. Slowing his movements to grant you a moment's peace allowing you to come down from your high. With his chin soaked, his fingers coated, he licked them clean whilst looking at your erotic blissed out expression.

"Such a good girl, a pretty one at that." He kissed your thigh, getting up from in between your legs. A deep kiss shared amongst the two of you, you were tasting yourself on his tongue. Leon's hands no longer clung on your skin as he removed his shirt.

You saw the scars that littered his body, a dark mark highlighted on his left shoulder. Some sort of bullet wound. To pry in this situation would be bad, it would just kill the mood. However, you could feel yourself getting hot once again when your eyes trailed over him again. Prominent abs shining through with his biceps putting you in an non existent chokehold. The light veins protruding through, showcasing his whole body. All that came from you was a breathy pant, you couldn't speak. Not when he was this handsome.

"You're staring sweetheart." He kissed your forehead, allowing you to snap out of your trance.

"Sorry..." A sheepish murmur left you. Still, you couldn't turn away as your eyes zoomed around his body once again. Fuck.

A chuckle brought you to look at his hands as they capably undid his belt. The leather shining snapping your attention to very clear bulge in his pants. Feeling proud of yourself for making him hard, you meet his gaze on you. His expression was unreadable... besides the fact his stare on you was longing. That's all you could read off him. Who was he? What did he do for a living?

All of those thoughts were lost as he took off his pants, his precum already seeped through his boxers making a distinguished mark. Without thinking, your hands replaced his. Pulling the boxers off him in a flash to see the flushed red tip. Leon let out a choked gasp, unaware of your movements. Your stare didn't help him regain his composure at all, a roseate colour burning on his cheeks.

"Don't look at it like that..." He moaned softly. It was pretty. Minor veins travelling up to the tip, showcasing off the large one that curved slightly. The base of him neatly trimmed - he was clean. Thank fuck.

It wasn't long before Leon positioned himself to your cunt. Practically drooling for him. His touch gentle as he rubbed your sides - easing you to be less nervous.

"You okay? We can stop if you want." He mellowly asked whilst brushing away a few stray hairs from your face. His fingers lingering on your cheek as he caressed it softly. Seeing you shake your head back at him with a sweet smile reminding him of your consent in the situation gave him a sense of comfort. You saw him as a person. Not a tool, not a man who killed abhorrent things. But a guy who could make you feel good.

Pushing into you was with ease. Your sloppy pussy taking him in so well that his hips sputtered slightly feeling you tighten around him. Leon couldn't resist slowly rocking his hips, craving more of this sensation you happily gave him.

"You can go faster, m'okay..." Reassurance was all Leon needed in this. Hearing your words and consent to fuck you good snapped something within him. His thighs slapping against yours slightly, creating a soft 'plap plap plap' made the scene more erotic then it was. This was pure filth.

His thrusts becoming deeper he threw his head back. You felt so good wrapped around his dick. Leon felt your nails scratch his sides, you tried to cling onto something as he pumped himself again and again. Needing to feel your skin on his lips, he pressed himself closer to you - his kisses gently fluttering on your neck. The tighter you squeezed the closer he was. Smothering your skin with marks that shown you were his. He made you his by forming his cock shape inside of you.

The base of his cock had a ring of cum forming around it. Displaying your last orgasm whilst he was soon to bring you to your next. His hips didn't stop the everlasting assault against yours, bucking into you helplessly. Leon hadn't felt this alive in ages. This horny mess he was encapsulated in brought him to his memories of when he was young. A young adult pumping with energy once again but this time he was older, more mature. Much more experienced. You were the lucky one to feel his experience. To feel him let go of himself in you.

He propped himself back up, the sheer sheet of sweat highlighting his abs in the dim light alongside the beads of sweat that covered his forehead. "Good fucking girl... take it." Dirty words left his lips and flowed into your ears. Words that make you shiver, blush and shake slightly in his grasp.

A growl escaped Leon when he felt your legs wrap around his hips. Fuck, did you want him to cum inside? His mind went crazy at the thought. Calloused hands gripped you tightly whilst he looked at you. So beautiful. You were gorgeous. The mewls that scratched your throat as you shot your eyes open when you felt like you could see stars. Only to meet Leon's gaze once again - just this time, you both were so close to the brink of release.

The way the scene held such love. A sugar baby and sugar daddy wouldn't have this with each other. Maybe this was different. Both of your foreheads clung to each other. Gasps leaving your mouth, groans leaving his. Passionate kisses being traded between you two as his thick cock stuffed your sobbing pussy full.

"Love, fuck, you have to unwrap... your legs." He managed to gasp out. Leon's dick was throbbing, aching for the sweet release he craved for. You were in a state of bliss, your body nearly becoming limp as you obeyed with his instruction. The bundle of nerves tingled. You were so close. So close to cumming around him. Leon could feel it. He could see it. Shakily, his thumb reached that precious, sensitive clit that longed to be rubbed. His ministrations on it brought the loudest of screams from you.

"Leon! I-I can't..." Your wails only made him dizzier. Dizzy from how fucking pretty you were for him.

"You can sweetheart, come on... cum on my cock. Be a, shit so tight... Be a good girl and cum f'me baby." Leon moaned out, he was about to fill you up if you weren't quick. Lucky enough, a bit more pressure on your clit caused you to shake uncontrollably. The same feeling as before washing over you - just a lot stronger. His eyes watched everything. How your body shook in his arms, the way your eyes rolled back as his name slipped from your tongue. Looking down, he could see your tits bounce whilst he carried on fucking you. Marks strewn all over you.

Leon's hips stuttered, he swiftly pulled out of you - cumming instantly on your pussy. The white, glossy substance coating your slit. Some spurts shot up and landed on your tummy. His head thrown back as he came down from his high, his endorphins going mental.

"Fuck..." He held himself up slightly, trying not to crush you with his body weight. A deep chuckle abandoning his throat as he saw you pant. Your fingers clutching onto his bicep whilst you tried to steady yourself.

Cute.

"You okay?" A deep voice knocked you out of your trance, looking at him dizzily. "Mm..." Your nods spoke louder than your mumble as you held onto him. His fingers latched onto a few tissues from the box on his bedside table. Wiping gently the mess he created on you. Mellow kisses on your stomach, tickling you a little.

He wanted something more. A relationship even. But a long term relationship would mean you would see the nightmares that taunted him. The crying, the hurt, the horror. He didn't want you to see that just yet. So this 'agreement', was enough for now. But everyone would know he was yours and you were his. He would make sure of it. Even if it meant marking you up or perhaps putting a placement ring on your finger before the real deal. Anything to make you happy, you were his happiness.

He guided you into the master bathroom again. Just for a different reason. Running the bath, it filled up rather quickly. Leon's hands wondering over your skin whilst massaging any parts he may have clutched onto a bit too tightly. Soft kisses on your face, lips and neck carried on. Not out of lust - it was love. His love for you met no limits.

The smile that would creep up his face when he heard you giggle made his heart flutter. That hole that was punctured so deep from his job was filled by your presence.

"Thank you..." Your voice was melodic. Bringing Leon to look at you with heart shaped eyes. A deeper kiss shared amongst the both of you whilst he got you both in the bath. The warm water soaking into your muscles, easing them up from the pleasure you both faced.

"Of course, anything for you." His words held such comfort that it could make you cry. Who knew a sugar daddy could bring you happiness in the romance department? Or maybe he was just separate from the others. You didn't care. All you cared about was him, and you wanted to know more about him. Trailing your eyes up to him, you see him remember something.

"Hm? What's up?" The inquiry you had made him chuckle. Confused, you prod him to give you an answer. His lips pressed against your forehead before he spoke.

"Is $2000 enough for tonight?"

likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated! thank u for reading :)

-> masterlist

#leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #resident evil #leon x reader #leon kennedy resident evil #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy fluff #leon kennedy fanfic #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy imagine #resident evil smut #resident evil x reader #resident evil x you #leon s kennedy

2K notes · View notes