#fuck you I love my body and I'm still a guy

[adventuringblind]

Entitled To You (3.6K words)

Norstaptri x Reader

Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort

Summary: An incident with Lance sends the boys into a frenzy. She just wants to do what she loves.

Warnings: Explicit depictions of r@pe, injury descriptions, panic attacks, Oscar plots a murder, Lando throws hands, Car crashes, Author doesn't know legal stuff, Head trauma and blood.

Notes: This one is a request from @Lily234566 I know this wasn't the original pairing but I was struggling to fit the Ferrari boys in there so I had to scale it back... I'm sorry and I hope you still like it! T_T

Side Note: Sorry to the Lance girlies reading this. AND obligatory message of I don't know these people and this is purely FICTION! HEAD THE TAGS! DONT LIKE THEN DONT READ!

Masterlist // Request Form // My Website // buy me a Ko-Fi

“Max!” She peeks her head into his driver's room. The bright beaming smile she receives in return after their 1-2 nearly kills her. “They want me for a media thing, apparently.” HIs smile drops into a pout. The sad puppy eyes might convince her to stay. 

“Again? Don’t they know we have plans!

“No, and why would they care anyway?” She looks him up and down and whines because he’s standing in front of her with no shirt on. “Just - I’ll meet you guys back at the room. It’s something to do with being a female in F1… again.”

“I’m starting to think they have nothing else to talk about.” 

She shrugs as she walks out of the hospitality, waving to Christian on her way by. The goal is to get past the Mclaren garage without seeing Lando because otherwise she is not going to the interview. His pout is worse (better?) than Max’s. 

To her pleasant surprise, Laura is the one conducting the interview. “I’m sorry about this being last minute! They said they wanted you to do it with someone else next week and I offered to do it now.” 

The interview passes with ease and thankfully doesn’t take long at all. The banter in-between is also entertaining. 

She’s exhausted when they finish. Ready to go back to the hotel and fall into bed with her boys. Hopefully They’ve ordered food - and dessert. 

The paddock is nearly empty as she makes her way through. Maybe, had she been paying more attention and not focussed on her aching body, she would’ve caught on to the footsteps behind her. 

They are heavy, she assumes possibly a mechanic still packing up to continue on their way to the next circuit. That’s what she still thinks when the hand on her bicep yanks her around the corner. 

If she weren’t as exhausted, then fighting would’ve been a possibility. However, that seems out of the cards as he pins her against the nearest wall. Her forehead hitting the surface hard enough to make her dizzy. 

“Not so confident now, huh?” 

The fuck- “Lance? What are you?-” He slams her head again and cages her body against his own. She flails, only to be slammed again. “Would you stop doing that please?” 

“Not after that stupid stunt you pulled today on track.”

“You mean the one where you showed you don’t know what brakes are?-” Again, her head is sent into the hard surface. She can feel her nose starting to bleed. “Must you?!” She decided to shut up when he does it again and everything starts to go fuzzy. 

His fingers dip beneath the waistband of her fireproofs. The cold evening air hits her bare skin and she panics more than before. Her head is too cloudy to fully comprehend what’s happening. 

“I feel like I'm entitled to a bit of compensation after that stunt.” 

“You’re entitled to nothing. You took yourself out!” She hisses through gritted teeth. Still, Lance continues to get her clothes lower. And slams her head again harder - you know - because she wasn’t disoriented enough already.

“Would you shut up?” She doesn’t say anything this time. Her mouth feels numb and her ears are ringing. Her exposed lower half is met with the bare hands of someone she doesn't want touching her. 

It's - well - it hurts. He's groping at her thighs, ass, even her tits which she isn't sure how he's managing. His hands are everywhere they shouldn't be. 

And then nothing. 

A vague awareness of what's happening seeps through her veins and invades her senses. She tries to scream. Attempts despite the sheer pain of the snap of hips she didn't ask for. 

His finger beat her to it. A hand encloses around her throat and cuts off her oxygen. The black spots dance around her vision. She wants them to stop moving; they are making her dizzy. Or was she already dizzy? 

“See, it's not so bad. Don't you feel less guilty for ruining my race now?” No, she doesn't. She wasn't guilty before. 

She blacks out. 

~~~♡~~~

Waking up with sore limbs and a killer headache is not how she pictured this night going. She tries to yell for help, but a mere creaky rasp escapes. 

When did she lose her voice? The thought makes her panic more. The sob she lets out hurts more than there is sound. 

Her face and hair is sticky. At least Lance had done her the courtesy of not finishing inside of her. 

Still - what the fuck even happened? The fragmented memory is trying to come back to her slowly. Each small piece remembered is another broken cry. 

She can't move. 

It's dark again. 

~~~♡~~~

The anxiety between the three boys is certainly not something they are used to. Oscar can pinpoint the exact moment Lando started overthinking and Max had to bear hug him so he didn't pace a hole into the cement of the parking lot. 

The fourth seat in their car remains empty and their messages have gone unanswered. It's getting more concerning with each passing minute. 

“Max, she always responds.” 

“I know Lando.” 

“She always calls if she's going to be longer.” 

“Lando?”

“Yes?”

“Would you feel better if we went and looked around for her?” 

The Brit nods his head in a fashion that might give him whiplash. It's better seeing him feel helpful then sit helplessly. Though Oscar can't help but agree with Max's original point. that they should wait there at the car just in case since that's where they were supposed to meet. 

Granted, it's only been twenty minutes. It's still long enough to be murdered. 

They Methodically peer around corners and wave at the mechanics who give them skeptical looks. They were supposed to be out for post race celebrations by now. 

Oscar freezes when he sees it. The human shaped lump lying on the ground. He rushes over with long strides. The closer he gets, the more familiar the person on the ground becomes. 

“Max! Lando! I found her!” The other two boys come sprinting in his direction. He's on the ground trying to clear her hair from her face only for it to get stuck in the sticky substance coating her features. 

“What the fuck?” 

Her fireproofs are still on, but it's obvious what happened. The handprints on her neck, the blood trickling down the sides of her face. “We need to bring her to a hospital.” 

Max hoists her up in his arms. Mainly because Lando is on the brink of tears and struggling to breathe through his panic. He loves deeply and with his heart on his sleeve. Oscar just hopes he can keep the Brit calm until they find more help. 

“Can we at least clean her up?” Lando pleads with him. Big Hazel eyes brimming with tears. 

It's always a struggle to tell him no. “We can't, not if it can help us figure out who did it.” The tears start right after that. 

“So that’s what happened then? Someone really-” Oscar has to maneuver the puddle of tears that is his boyfriend into the passenger seat of their rental car. Max tosses him the keys, opting to be with her in the back and keep her comfortable. 

The tricky drive to emergency is more because Oscar is too far in his own thoughts to pay attention to the traffic lights. He can hear Max moving her around, attempting to put pressure where blood still flows freely. 

Oscar doesn’t bother with parking. He pulls off into some empty area and helps Max shoulder her weight inside the doors while Lando runs ahead to find help. 

It’s fast after that. They take her away and start patching her up while the three of them are forced to sit in the waiting room. Oscar and Lando are left to their own devices while Max paces about on the phone with Christian. 

He feels like a knife is being driven through his chest each time his mind tries to come up with what could’ve happened. Who would do something like this? Unfortunately, a lot of people. The question is more of who could’ve done it and gotten away. Someone with access to the paddock this late. Security, perhaps? Maybe even a sleazy mechanic? A driver wouldn’t make any sense… right?

“When will they let us see her?”

“When she wakes up, most likely.”

He’s not sure when he falls asleep. The exhaustion finally hit him like a truck despite his persistence. He’s awoken by Max’s constant shaking and aggressive whispering of his name. 

“-She’s asking for us.” 

He’s up faster than Lando when Jon threatens an ice bath. They follow the nurse down the halls with an uneasy anticipation. They creep inside the sterile room and find her staring at the wall. 

Lando doesn’t hesitate to move further into the room. Always having been more in touch with his emotions then the other two boys. “Hey love, can I come closer?” 

She looks at him. The bandages plastered over the sides of her head and around her face now visible to them. She returns Lando’s gaze with glassy eyes. It’s damn near shocking when she tries to pull things off her body in a desperate attempt to reach for Lando. 

Lando gets to her before she can get everything off, specifically the IV, and catch her arms. Oscar and Max finally pull themselves together and manage to get her to lay back down with some coaxing. 

She’s shaking violently. Her grip on Lando’s arm is sure to leave bruises. “Who - who f-found me?”  

“We did, schat. We got worried when you didn’t respond.” Max drags the two chairs in the room closer and pulls Oscar down into one.  Lando, against all odds, manages to wriggle his way into bed with her. 

“I know who it was. I - well - does anyone else know?” 

“Just Christian and us.” Oscar can feel the fight Max is putting up to not ask her more questions. The way he’s grounding himself with a hand on Oscars knee instead. 

“You don’t have to tell us.” He attempts to reassure. Maybe calm her mind by giving her an option. “Just know we’re here, alright?” 

“I don’t want it to be a big story. It’s already going to be since I can’t be in the car for the next four weeks. Oh fuck - everyone is gonna know-” Lando hushes her; gets her to somehow hold him tighter.

“Christian said it’s up to you, whatever happens.” Max nods at her encouragingly. “We go at your pace.” 

“They did a rape kit. They’ll know who it is. It was all over so it couldn’t have been hard to get DNA - oh fuck” 

Her heart rate picks up. The nurses rush in. They send her back to sleep. 

~~~♡~~~

Max wants to know who it was who touched her. The rage simmering underneath her skin is almost too much to keep contained. 

On the more fortunate side, they were allowed to stay since she wouldn’t let go of Lando. Then when he did have to get up, they rotated. 

The doctors and nurses learned to approach her like she’s a scared animal. The heavy footsteps seem to set her off and there is now a sticky note on the door saying to tiptoe when entering. It’s endearing to see her doctors and nurses trying so hard not to startle her. But seeing as they’ve now had several incidents where she’s panicked, they are taking more caution. 

Oscar and Lando have meandered away in search of food. Max opted to stay put and made the promise to bring him back cheat foods. He’s too stressed to not eat something of comfort. 

Her physio is supposed to come by today with the stuff she left at the track and get an update from the doctors themselves instead of Max’s botched attempts at repeating back. It will also be nice to see her comfortable, as the one blanket that travels with her everywhere will also be dropped off. 

“Max?” He tightens his hold to show he’s listening. “It’s not fair… You, Lando, and Oscar make a mistake on track and nobody does that to you. I - It wasn’t my fault.” 

The thing is, Max is smarter than people give him credit for. The only incident on track was with Lance. An incident that was his own fault. “He’s at fault, not you. None of this is your fault.”

“They are going to say I was asking for it or something.” 

“In those fireproofs? The only ones asking for it are me and Oscar… for obvious reasons.” He chuckles proudly at his little self compliment. 

It also manages to get her to crack something of a half smile. “Are you complimenting your own ass?” 

“And what if I am?” 

She doesn’t eat anything despite it being sat in front of her. Soft foods are the only thing she’ll be eating. Her throat, albeit not as bad as it could've been (thank you F1), is still damaged and needs to rest as much as possible. 

They had to keep her for observation due to where the head wounds had been. It’s been a rough thirty-six hours, but they are managing.

Despite the hectic situation, Max has come to learn that the female lying in the hospital bed is a better person then the rest of them. Oscar was detailing a full proof murder plan while she was telling him not to make it a bigger deal then it is. To which Oscar politely put his ten step plan with four contingencies down and told her that it’s ‘what he had coming to him’. 

Max has not had to stop someone from assassinating a rival before, but Oscar seems like a reasonable guy. “Death is too good for him.” 

“Mm, you’re right, I’ll just make sure he doesn’t die then and can’t see my face.” 

“Or, we make his life a series of inconveniences! I feel like daddy’s money could get him good therapy. It can’t solve every minor problem.” Lando has a gleam in his eyes. 

Him and Oscar start pouring over ideas once more. The girl simply shakes her head and goes back to eyeing her pudding like it’s assaulted her. “I don’t want to leave here, Max.”

“Why not? I’d assume you want to go home? Sleep in a comfortable bed?”

“Out there, they can get to us. Here is safe.” 

He considers how to reassure her. Only, there is nothing he can think of. The truth is that outside of this hospital room, there is no guarantee they won’t run into trouble. 

“I can’t promise that we'll never have something bad happen again. But-” He looks to the McLaren duo brainstorming ways to make the Aston Martin garage regret existing. “We’ll be there for each other. We’re here for you. When you want us and when you need us, yes?” 

“Pinky swear?” She extends her pink to him. 

Max accepts and curls his pinks around hers. “Pinky swear.” 

~~~♡~~~

It’s not fair really, that they had to leave to go do things. Lando would prefer he at least stayed with her so she isn’t alone. Alas, they are preparing for her discharge and he had to run around getting things together for their trip back to Monaco.

He comes back to a partially opened door and smiles at the other two boys being able to get back before him. Then again, as he gets closer he can hear the angry tone. One that Max uses when he’s pissed off about something. 

Lando panics and rushes inside. Only to be met with the sight of the last person he wants around right now. 

Now - he wouldn’t say he’s prone to violence. Lando prefers to keep the peace when it comes to conflict unless he’s trying to piss someone off on purpose to get a reaction. This is not one of those times. 

Lando’s knuckles collide with the Canadian’s jaw faster than he can fully become aware of what he’s doing. Lance stumbles backward and holds his jaw, glaring at Lando like he’s the one in the wrong here. 

“Get out!” 

“We were just talking-” 

“I said. Get. Out.” He’s seething. The thudding in his chest becoming louder with each second Lance remains in this room. 

He’s not prone to violence. 

Really, he’s not. 

Yet the second crack of knuckles into Lance's chin gives him some sick satisfaction. Isn’t there something about equilibrium? Can he pin this on restoring the balance or something? Regardless, he isn’t going to dent the fact that it feels good. 

The nurses come running and start asking questions. Max and Oscar have to drag Lando away kicking and screaming. 

Worse is when they try to tell him that there are pictures out on social media. Christian has been calling Max non-stop. Oscar has been dealing with Zak. Their relationship isn’t a secret and neither is their current location.  

“They're sending us a different car to see if we can’t get out discreetly.” 

“What happened with Lance, Lan? Are you alright?”

Everyone is panting. Their eyes trained on the door. “I punched him. I restored the equal-brey-um… thing.” 

“Equilibrium.” 

“Yeah that!” 

He’s not sure how they get on the plane. He’s still amped up about the whole punching thing and running purely off adrenaline. 

They’ve been sitting in silence, mulling over their options. Creating statements they can put out. It’s hectic and they keep trashing them because nothing fits. 

The female has been apathetic. The last thing she wanted was for this to get out and now it has. Seemingly everything is flashing before her eyes. Her career will be gone soon enough, so what’s even the point? 

“Don’t post anything. We don’t have an obligation to confirm or deny the rumors. If anything, we can say that you were just driving me to the hospital and being good friends or whatever.” She won’t look at them. Still - Lando can hear how upset she is, the waiver in her voice. “I’m going to be kicked out anyway.” 

“Christian said-”

“Damn what Christian said! He knows this isn’t going to get any better and if I say who it was then Daddy’s Money is just going to pay his way through.” She's hyperventilating now. Her body collapses against her seat and Oscar makes an effort to get her to lean against him. “It’s not fair!”

lando Can’t help but share her feelings.

~~~♡~~~

She stays holed up in the Redbull garage the next weekend. The appearance is hard, people want to ask her questions. Her boys had been caught in the middle of the riptide and haven’t come back to shore yet. 

At least she’s here. She’s trying her hardest to look stronger than she is. On the inside things are falling apart. 

The team knows to give her space and not ask about the ordeal. She takes refuge in Max’s room when things are too much and the other drivers keep their distance. 

They know it was one of them. She’d been adamant on not saying who it was, but it’s obvious there are sixteen who it could have been, given her partners insistence that none of them go near her garage for the time being.  

She just wants this whole thing to blow over. She wants to lay in bed with her lovers and not flinch when they go to touch her. 

She knows, however, that until she deals with things that healing can’t happen like it should. Or at least, that’s what her therapist says. The one she is now required to see. 

Things get worse when she’s back in the car. Her media duties are limited so she can focus on driving and ‘listening to her body’ as her physio likes to say. 

She can’t hear her body over the sound of her mind going staticy as Lance closes in on her. The catalyst for everything. She panics and ends up in the wall. Not the worst crash ever, but certainly hurts her pride more than it has already.

The thing is, it keeps happening. Even as she’s able to let her boys back in. As her podium finishes start to come back. Her fireproofs (which they’d gotten her all new ones) start to feel comfortable again and she doesn’t feel the need to be out of them the second the race is done. Still, Lance is using this to his advantage. 

Finally, after he almost killed her on track (again), she’s had enough.

The trial goes better than she thought it would. Despite the money differences, Lance won’t be able to race anymore. It’s not some grand spectacle either, just an announcement like usual. It’s more the closure she needed versus the publicized drama it could have been. 

She wins the next race. 

“If I ever see him again, it will be too soon.” 

“It’s been over a year now, Lan. I’m getting better.” There is a genuine smile on her face. The car awaits to take them back to the hotel. It was here that it happened. She almost considered not racing because of it.

“Lando got a taste of blood and now he’s feinding for it.” Max has a comforting hand around her waist. A grounding presence. 

“I mean, I never threw away my murder plot…” 

“You’re a genius Oscar!”

She shakes her head. It’s not like any of this has been easy. It never is. Still - her boys are here and they��ve been so patient. 

“There’s her smile.” They all beam at her. 

She smiles back.

[zegrasdrysdale]

matthew knies smut — losing ur v card to him

[ helping hand ] m. knies

paring : Matthew Knies x fem!reader

summary : Matthew helps his best friend out after she asks him to take her virginity

warning(s) : smut ! loss of virginity, virgin!reader, light dirty talk, slight hair pulling (blink and you'll miss it tbh) oral (f receiving), fingering, p in v, protected sex, use of pet names during sex (pretty girl, baby, etc.), multiple orgasms

author’s note : felt like writing something cute so i decided to tackle this request and make it as cute as i could. this is my first time writing for kniesy so if it’s bad then pls tell me lol

༺═──────────────═༻

Being a 20-year-old virgin sucks. Every time she tries to hook up with a guy, she blurts out that she’s “never done this before” and it scares him away. Needless to say, she is getting very tired of being a virgin. She's loves sex, but she's never gone all the way with a guy.

Tonight was just another reminder that she's never been fucked. She thought that after her date, he'd take her back to his apartment and she'd finally lose her virginity. Then he said that his mom was going to be home soon just as things started getting heated, right after she had said that she's never gone all the way.

It's a tiring pattern.

She's frustrated, and frustration means stomping up to her longtime best friend's Toronto apartment a little before eleven. She pounds her fist on Matthew's door then waits. There are light footsteps behind the door before it's pulled open.

Matthew looks like he just woke up, and she feels bad. His Toronto hockey shirt is a little wrinkled and he's wearing sweats. His hair is a complete disaster. "Did I wake you?" she questions.

He yawns, but shakes his head no. "I was just closing my eyes," he tells her. "I thought you were out on a date or something. Why are you here?"

"You'll never guess what happened," she sighs as she walks past him into his apartment. "I did it again."

Matthew laughs and shuts the door behind her. "You need to stop," he comments. "You're never going to lose it if you keep telling guys that you haven't gone all the way. You're twenty."

"I know!" she groans as she plops down onto his couch. "It's like a get scared or something and it just comes out. I wish I could just get it over with and then it won't come out."

He sits beside her and she looks up at him. "Don't rush it," he tells her. "It's not all that anyway. Just wait until you find someone you trust and genuinely like."

A light bulb flicks on in her head. She sits up and turns her body to face Matthew. "Will you?"

"Will I what?"

"Sleep with me so I'm not a virgin anymore," she finishes. He raises his eyebrows and looks like he's about to object. "I mean, I trust you with everything I have. You're my best friend. You're not bad looking. I've known you for years, Matthew. I'd be okay if you did this for me. It wouldn't change anything with us."

Matthew thinks about it. She knows by the way he sighs and runs his fingers through his messy hair. "You're sure about this?" he questions. "Because I don't want to do this then-"

She rolls his eyes in frustration and cups his jaw. She pulls him into a kiss, and it surprises her when she feels her heart beat out of her chest when her lips meet his. Even Matthew is thrown off by the kiss. He immediately pulls back. She drops her hands to her lap.

"I'm not going to regret it, Matt," she tells him as her eyes meet his. Have his eyes always been this pretty and blue? She's never been this close to see how blue they are. "I promise. It might bring us closer as friends if we do this. I'm not going to stop being your friend because you slept with me."

He still doesn't seem very convinced. "This is going to change us," he tells her. "No matter what. I just want both of us to be ready for that."

With a nod, her eyes flicker down to his lips for a second before returning to his eyes. "I know," she replies. "Just ... please. I'll never ask you for anything ever again if you do this for me."

Matthew searches her face for any signs that she doesn't want this. He won't find any. If she's going to lose her virginity to anyone, she wouldn't mind losing it to her best friend. She wants this.

He doesn't say "okay" or anything like that. All he does is grab her chin between his thumb and pointer finger. "If this is what you really want then I'll do it," he says to her, voice slightly higher than a whisper.

"I really want this," she confirms. "Seriously."

His eyes drop to her lips before he leans in and gently presses his lips to hers, and her eyes flutter shut. Her heart beats out of her chest with how soft and gently he kisses her.

The kisses don't immediately turn heated and needy. Matthew makes sure of that. When they do though, she climbs onto his lap in the red minidress that she's wearing. She straddles his thighs and wraps her arms loosely around his neck. Matthew's hands drop to the bare skin on her thighs.

Her heels clatter to the carpeted floor beneath them with a thud. Her fingers find a home and curl in his locks. She tugs gently and a soft noise comes from Matthew. She smiles into the kiss that follows and tucks this piece of information away for later.

She traps his bottom lip between her teeth and pulls back. She watches it snap back into place. Matthew looks up at her and she sees that his eyes have darkened a bit. There's a dark fire between them and she can tell he's trying to hold himself back.

"Pretend it's not me," she tells him as her hands drag down his neck and chest until they come to a rest on his torso. She play with the hem of his t-shirt. "I can tell, Matt. You're holding back because it's me."

Matthew shakes his head. "I'm holding back because I want to do this right," he replies. "It's not because it's you. I want to make sure that it's perfect for you."

"Then don't hold back," she whispers to him as she attaches her lips to his jaw right under his ear. "It'll be perfect no matter what."

A shaky sigh passes Matthew's kiss-bruised lips. He kisses the swell of her ear and she keeps working at his jaw.

Before she realizes what's happening, Matthew slides his hands to the back of her thighs and stands up. She wraps her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck. "It's insane how easily you were able to just pick me up like that," she comments.

"I work out everyday," Matthew replies as he makes his way down the hallway to his bedroom. "Sometimes twice a day. I lay hits on grown men that weigh as much as I do or heavier for a living. I hope that I can lift someone up that is nearly a foot shorter than me and weighs less than what I bench."

She can't contain the giggle that rises in her throat as he crosses the threshold into his room. "That's kind of hot of you, Matt," she admits. "I mean, I don't know how you're single when you bench more than I weigh."

He kicks the door shut behind him and gently sets her down so she's flat on her feet. She sees the flush in his cheeks despite the dimly lit room. She smiles and gets on her tiptoes to instigate another kiss. Matthew has to lean down to kiss her because of the heigh difference between them. His hands rest on her cheeks and she rests against the door.

They stand there for what feels like an eternity. She's almost certain that the lace panties she has on under the dress are ruined. She hasn't be able to stop thinking about Matthew's fingers on her thighs while they were in the couch, not to mention the fact that he was able to pick her up with almost no effort.

Her fingers curl around the hem of his t-shirt and she pulls at it. "Off," she mumbles against his lips. "Matt, please. Off."

The kiss breaks and Matthew reaches down to pull the fabric over his head. Her eyes rake his body and it's very obvious that he works out every day. Her fingers trace his abs and she bites her bottom lip.

Okay, maybe he's more attractive than she's let herself admit. She's never really allowed herself to look at him like this. She's never let herself admire him like this.

Matthew hooks his fingers under the very thin straps that sit on her shoulders. She looks up at him and notices how focused he is on his actions. He pulls the straps off her shoulders and lets the dress fall so it pools at her ankles. She's in her strapless bra and matching panties. She notices Matthew's eyes drink her in.

She puts her hands on his chest and gently pushes him in the direction of his bed. She kicks the dress off so she can follow him. As soon as Matthew sits back on the bed, she crawls onto his lap. Her knees bracket his thighs. She leans in and ravishes his mouth with hers. One of his hands finds its way to her curls and he holds the back of her head so she can’t break the heated kiss.

Without realizing she does it, she rolls her hips against his. He hums and his other hand comes down on her bare waist.

A surge of confidence overcomes her and she reaches behind her. She unhooks her bra and lets the red lace fall between them. She tosses it somewhere at the same time Matthew breaks the kiss.

Her entire body shakes with nerves.

It’s just Matthew. They’ve been friends since his first year at Minnesota. Best friends since his sophomore year. She visited him earlier in the season and fell in love with Canada so she moved into an apartment down the street from him.

She can do this.

Matthew lifts her head up and says, “I’ve got you. Okay? I have you. Whatever you want.”

“I want you,” she tells him. “Please. I need you.”

He moves back on the bed and flips them over so he hovers over her. Her curls create a halo around her head. Matthew thumbs her swollen lips and trails it down over her chin, over her chest, between her breasts, and down her stomach until his fingers rest at the waistband of her panties. Goosebumps follow his fingers down her upper body.

She can feel the bulge in his pants so she bucks her hips up to grind her clothed core against the bulge. “Shit,” he gasps. “You can’t just do that.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’ll come before either of us are ready.”

She lets out a light laugh. “We wouldn’t want that, now would we?” she teases.

“Shut up,” he mumbles before shutting her up himself with a deep kiss. She smiles and hooks her fingers into the waistband of his sweatpants.

She pushes his sweatpants down and over his ass. He helps her out and kicks them off.

When she tries to put her hand in his boxers, Matthew stops her. He breaks the kiss and shakes his head. “If we’re doing this, we’re doing it right. I’m going to make sure you feel good and make sure you’re comfortable, okay?” he says to her.

“Okay,” she replies, voice barely above a whisper.

With her permission, Matthew hooks his fingers in the waistband of her panties and slowly pulls the thin fabric off her body. He tosses them to the floor and she lets her knees fall open.

Matthew attaches his lips to her jaw, then slowly trails his lips down her body. He makes a quick stop when he gets to her breasts. He gives each one a little attention and she lets out a soft noise. She bites her lip to keep from making any embarrassing noises.

He lies on his stomach and throws her legs over his broad shoulders. She watches as he presses soft kisses to her leg trailing from her inner knee and up her inner thigh. He stops right before he gets to her core.

“Already so wet for me,” he comments. She nods and grabs a pillow to rest her head on so she doesn’t get a crick in her neck.

That’s when Matthew slides a finger through her soaked folds. A whine passes her lips and she looks down at him with her eyes. He teases her entrance and she gasps, “I- Matthew. Don’t tease please. Do something.”

“Didn’t think you were a begger, pretty girl,” he replies. She shoots him a glare and he laughs.

She’s about to say something to him when he wraps his lips around her clit. “Oh my- fuck” is what comes out of her mouth instead. Matthew hums and sends vibrations through her entire body. He slowly pushes a finger into her and her back arches off the bed.

Matthew’s free hand slides up her body and cups one of her tits. She didn’t pick Matthew to be a boob guy, but today is full of surprises.

Soft pants pass her lips as Matthew keeps using his mouth and fingers to bring her closer to an orgasm. He adds a second finger and her hands fly to his hair. Her breathing has gotten extremely labored and soft noises consistently pass her lips.

He’s so careful with his movements, so precise. He knows what he’s doing, and she’s not at all surprised that he does. She didn’t realize just how much he knew. Despite never actually hooking up before, it’s like he knows her entire body and what she likes.

Once a third finger is inside of her, Matthew curls his fingers in a “come here” motion. She gasps and a knot forms in the pit of her stomach. “Matt,” she groans. “I- Matthew.”

“Let me hear you,” he tells her. “Wanna hear you when you come on my fingers. Can you do do that for me?”

She nods and hums. “Yeah,” she breathes out.

“Go ahead, pretty girl,” Matthew says. “Come for me. I can feel how close you are.”

His lips are back on her clit and she’s coming seconds later.

Her back arches off the mattress as her walls clench around his fingers. Her body turns into jelly as he fingers her through what’s probably the strongest orgasm she’s ever had. She swears she blacks out.

Her breathing is extremely labored as Matthew withdraws his fingers. She whimpers at the loss and watches him crawl up her body when her vision comes back. He smiles when he sees how out of it she probably looks.

Matthew peppers her cheek with soft kisses as she comes to.

“You okay?” he asks. “Can you do one more?”

“Mhm,” she hums. “Want you inside me, Matt. Please. I need you.”

He captures her lips in a soft kiss and she groans when she tastes herself on his lips.

It’s a very quick kiss. Matthew reaches over into his bedside drawer and pulls out a tiny foil package. He puts it between his teeth as he pushes his boxers off his body. She bites her lip as Matthew’s dick pops out of the confines of the boxers.

She accidentally saw his dick one time before now, and it looked nothing like it does right now. “Jesus, Matt,” she gasps. “Is it gonna fit?”

Matthew laughs and slides the condom onto his dick. “I promise it’ll fit,” he tells her.

He hover over her between her legs. The tip of his dick lines up with her entrance and she shakes. Her heart races in her chest and she stares up at the pretty boy above her. “Slow,” she tells him. “Okay? I don’t know-”

“Tell me if you need me to stop or if it hurts,” he interrupts. “I’ll move at your pace, okay? I have you.”

She nods. “Go.”

Matthew slowly pushes into her. She gasps as the unfamiliar stretch and grasps onto his biceps. The deeper he goes, the more it hurts. She pushes through though and pain eventually turns into pleasure.

He moves so slow though that it’s almost painful. She wants him to ruin her but she wants to be able to walk in the morning. Whatever that will look like.

She reaches up and slides her hair into Matthew’s hair. His eyes lock with her as he bottoms out in her. Her lips are pressed in a line. “Okay?” he asks.

With a nod, she says, “I’m okay. Give me a second. You’re fucking big, Matt. Damn.”

He laughs. “That’s not my fault,” he replies. “Most women I hook up with like it.”

“I didn’t say I didn’t like it, asshole,” she retorts. “I said I needed a second.”

Matthew laughs again and she pulls him down into a kiss to shut him up. He licks into her mouth and she groans.

Feeling ready, she rolls her hips. One of Matthew’s hands rests on her waist and he meets her movements.

It’s slow, but it feels good. He slowly but deeply thrusts into her. She moans into Matthew’s mouth and he swallows every noise. Her hands slide from his hair to his back. She gently digs her nails into his skin.

He speeds his movements up a bit and she throws her head back against the pillows. “Fuck,” she gasps. “God. Matt.”

“Okay, baby?” he asks. “Good to keep going?”

She nods. “Like you mean it,” she pants. Matthew’s smile reaches his ears.

Matthew throws one of her legs over his shoulder and is able to move deeper into her at the new angle. She cries out his name and he attaches his lips to her neck. He’s covering her entire body at this point. It’s not only his dick that’s big. Matthew himself is a bigger guy.

He slows his movements but continues to bury his cock in her. The knot forms again in the pit of her stomach.

“Matt, I-”

“Me too,” he interrupts. “This is about you. I’m not gonna come until you come on my cock, pretty girl.”

She feels tears in her eyes as she tries to keep herself from coming. It feels too good and she doesn’t want it to end yet.

Especially since this is probably the first and last time she gets this from Matthew. She wants it to last.

Matthew slides a hand between them and as soon as his fingers find her clit again, she comes.

His name is on her lips as he fucks her through what is definitely the strongest orgasm of her life. Her entire body shudders as she comes. Her vision goes white for a hot second and she completely melts against the mattress beneath her. Her legs fall to the bed.

He comes into the condom before he pulls out of her. They’re both panting messes as he ties off the condom and throws it out. She very lazily crawls under the covers and Matthew joins her.

There’s a comfortable silence between them as they both recover from their highs. She finally gains feeling back in all her extremities and looks over at him.

“Thank you,” she weakly says.

“For?”

“Doing that for me. It was fun. I enjoyed it.”

Matthew sits up in bed and leans back against the headboard just as she went to curl up next to him. “I should’ve said something before we did that,” he admits to her.

She sits up and holds the blankets under her arms to keep herself covered. “What?”

He bites his kiss-bruised bottom lip for a second. “I have feelings for you,” he confesses. “Genuine feelings for you and I feel guilty for saying yes before telling you that.”

A day full of surprises.

She’d be lying if she said she didn’t feel the same. There is a reason she asked him of all her friends to do this for her. She’s always known he was attractive, a genuine guy and an incredible hockey player.

She’s damn lucky that Matthew agreed to have sex with her.

Matthew looks terrified. She smiles and drops her head to his shoulder. “You should see the look on your face,” she laughs.

“I’m being serious,” he tells her.

“I know,” she replies. Her chin rests on his shoulder. “I like you too. Why do you think I asked you to do this and not someone else?”

He blinks. “I thought you were just tired of being a twenty year old virgin,” he flatly states.

“There was that but I wanted it to be you,” she admits. “I guess I was just shooting my shot.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Matthew laughs.

She crawls onto his lap and lays on him. “When do I get one of those cool jackets the wives and girlfriends have?”

“You want one?”

“I do,” she tells him as she looks up at him. “Is that okay? If I got one?”

Matthew smiles and nods. “I’ll get you one.”

༺═──────────────═༻

MASTERLIST

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[fanofthelamb]

So I went dumpster diving in my tablet for the first lamb I ever drew and WOW... I found a lot of sketches I really don't plan on revisiting. I am jsut gonna dump them below the cut for people to see!! Some of it is lore related, some of it is shit I ABSOLUTELY FUCKING HATE, but IDC!!! I will post it anyway for the tumblr users who I keep an eye on my notifs for. (yes, i see you guys. even if i dont always interact I see you and love you guys)

Anyway, here is the earliest drawin I have of me drawing the lamb!! I am going to write a comment under a lot of these to add context to them.

A cute little baby <3333 but I struggled a LOT of figuring out what the lamb was wearing, I eventually figured it out though. (I hope)

if you know, you know. (RIP VAL)

for my BTG AU. I decided I no longer wanted chemach to make the [spoiler] for the lamb, though, so I scrapped this

vaaaal,,,,,, i was still learning how to draw him, i wish i put pants on him but do those even exist in COTL? (yes)

I haven't been able to do much with them because I'm putting other stuff first, but Brear has two kids, Notre and Brejul who Narinder absolutely ADORES. he is the one who babysits.

fun fact but the lamb being touch repulsed is a projection LOL. i hate it when people touch me it feels so tickly and makes me want to bite their faces off. (but i am touch starved and i LOVE to show affection to other ppl, esp thru back rubs)

yes, they have a hoop for personal space. no, ill never use it.

drum corcl,,,, i love the little dancing guy that comes from the drums

more narinder and brear. they're not romantically interested in each other, but he is absolutely head over heels for brear, their brother, and the kids. they even call him dad sometimes.

[no context]

kallamar and leshy before their crowns. the scene i have related to this isn't happening anymore, but it was leshy begging to be taught to swim.

another "the one who baby sits" doodle. the bishops all came into the cult with a very good repuation thanks to narinder. he likes to tell the kids of the cult stories about how amazing his siblings were. at first, it was just to nobre and brejul with stories about leshy(he missed leshy a lot even though he was still mad at him, and the two reminded narinder of his time with leshy), but then it escalated into him hosting storytimes with larger groups after they started repeating some of the stories he'd tell them.

unfinsihed stuff about with the lamb and thier mom. their mom wasn't afraid of the bishops at all, but knew that they were a still a threat to her and her child's life. the lamb did NOT care for anyone thier mom didn't approve of/enthusiastically liked. they were much more afraid of the bishops than their mother.

i do not actually know if i posted this.i dont think so, but i giggle every time i scroll past it

brear and nobre <333

im still workong on BTG shit, and i post a little bit of the characters on here even tho the comics are going to be posted elsewhere. they have a "crownlike" beak, but a body part. there's different creatures who became gods through different ways; crowns are one way but their power is stuck with the crown and they are considered extremely weak compared to other gods. i wont blabber on about it tho.

so many sketches has random lines through em because i work with a tablet,,, i hate it. anyway, narinder and kallamar everybody!

sketches i made but didn't bother to finish of me and merbre,,,,,,,,, my husband #1 <3 them w/ narinder + merbre arent gonna be considered "canon" but damn it ill self-ship with them until i get a follower i can WORK with

i come back to this every few weeks and im never happy with it, i dont know if ill finish this but i think about them........ before the divorce </3

unused from an ask

heartstealer. menace. you can rip my heart out anytime, leshy <3

dreshy. he LOVES dresses and being pretty and cute and pretty. he sucks narinder into a lot and heket will sometimes join in if he demands asks her to <3

another unused drawing from an ask i'll eventually answer. (mildly offended at being called a mutton cube.)

.... aaand WOW! I think that's everything guys!! things are still kinda wild but they're calming down a little bit. idk how much longer it's gonna last like this but I have some energy so I made a way-too-long post showing off art I wasn't supposed to post! Awesome. :D

[soaricarus]

favorite oc of yours? :3

i was gonna say all of them/i can't choose but No ..... this is my blorbo ever. this is eclipse. though i forgot to draw their wings for this one... they're one of my dearest ocs and i swear they're a rain world oc i've just never gotten around to draw them like ... pre-selfmods... i do have pre-the horrors however

this is my beloved i love them dearly ^ they were originally a ferven, a species created by the ancients to act as companion animals [think rain world's edition of cats, lol]. i might get in to making a ref of their species later because they are by no means a regular ferven. they were created by three clouds, lost skies - a prolific and artistic bioengineer.

while they can't exactly speak, they are sapient [unlike. other fervens. but fervens are in general very intelligent] and know how to express themself and communicate with clouds.

umm shit happens wrong place wrong time. they watch clouds get Murdered. absolutely fucking murdered. and its by Mr High Ranking Bioengineer Guy That Has No Morals Whose Name I Shall Not Speak [you can find him on my toyhouse or whatever lmao]. so That Guy sees the perfect opportunity to see if it's possible, just for science really, to turn a creature into an ancient.

he knows how very illegal and immoral this is. he does it anyway. The Horrors[tm] ensue for eclipse and they are NOT taking it well and i actually have this written but i'm not sure if i should share it ... just imagine being so very confused and panicked and nothing you do is familiar so you try to scream but that isn't your voice and this isn't your body what happened- and then it cuts black.

anyway. skipping forward a bit. they get used to it ... sorta. but there's still a lot of body dysmorhpia. That Guy doesn't know eclipse remembers their origins [he's just chalking their weird behaviour up to, well. what they used to be], but he does keep them very... isolated, to say. they don't know a lot of people. near the mass ascension though, he tries to force them in a vat of void fluid and wouldn't you like to know who gets his ass absolutely fucking echoed.

eclipse feles very guilty about this and feels like they weren't justified At All just because of how much vigil manipulated them and their mindset throughout the entire time, so they take off to the surface and just run. they don't know where they're going but they're running. they can't fly, they just lost one of their wings to the void fluid burns coming from the void fluid splashing out and hitting them. the adrenaline rush is whats keeping them from feeling that pain.

so! that just happened! they basically just murdered a man! okay! i don't know about you but when they realized the fuck they just did while the pain also hits them. yeahhhhh that's not ending up very well.

either way, time passes, they make friends with an iterator and said iterator helps them with genemods. eclipse, alike their creator, is also a very prolific bioengineer and knows what they're doing. a lot of the genemods are ones they made themself, while some are made with the help of the iterator - seven songs ablaze.

eventually though, a bunch of time after the mass ascension they find the global line's back up. and boy are they in for a ride

[dazzlerazz]

Screw terfs n all but are you normal about transgirls who don't want to medically transition? Are you normal about transguys with boobs who don't wear binders? Are you normal about the trans people who only want to socially transition because that's what's right for them? Are you normal about the transgirls with beards? Are you normal about the transguys who love their curves? Screw terfs, but are you normal about trans people?

Important Edit!!!!!

I don't mean to piggyback off of the success of this post but

A trans person is in need of your financial help

My friend @the-fab-fox is struggling and is in need of help

If you can, please consider donating to him, lord knows he needs it right now

Finley is at risk of losing his living situation, vet bills piling up, and much more

Please consider donating to his fundraiser (linked below) or donating via PayPal (eriklovescats@gmail.com) with a note that it's for the GoFundMe

Edit 2

Thank you for those who have donated so far, it means the world to him and to me!

If you could, please donate further so Finley is able to get the products that he needs!

Please follow this link to understand what and why

[shopcat]

turns anon off. i think one aspect of the reason there are intolerably endless amounts of gay and even bi transmascs who claim to not be able to like character who is a woman and use every reason under the sun to justify this, from "i just can't relate to them" to "the writers themselves don't like them so why should i, they're written badly and don't deserve the effort", and additionally, the implication that in order to Enjoy a Character you must be capable of being attracted to them And also be plain attracted to them (which only ever applies to women for some reason, I Wonder Why, and also is a weird mindset to have regardless about anything in the world forever) is because they, AS transmascs with a flawed mindset, particularly with baby transes, are so used to rejecting femininity and some sort of nebulous concept of womanhood that it comes to the point where women are now entirely unrelatable, entirely useless to you as they serve no purpose, entirely unable to be empathised with or liked and entirely unable to exist as people, reduced to nothing and left behind with the "girl clothes" you threw away or whatever.

they're operating under the notion that to be transmasc is to reject being a girl or a woman, and in one foul swoop reject everything about them and everything that may encapsulate that, and fail to see how this is not only obviously some very surface level unsubtextual misogyny, but also absolutely ridiculous and childish and Wrong as a mindset (and somehow fail to see how negative of one it is in the first place... being trans is about embracing what makes you happier and more comfortable, not soullessly rejecting something else). they don't WANT to engage with female characters, they don't fucking care!!!

and to be clear i hold absolutely no sympathy for people who hide behind their own dysphorias and misgivings and identities in order to absolve themselves of having to actually care about women in any substantial way, esp the ones who cling onto the gay/bi identity before anything else bc it provides them some sort of euphoria and then clouds their judgement entirely and leads to situations where people genuinely say "i think the reason i can't relate to women is because im gay (and don't want to fuck them)", and i refuse to sympathise with little boys who refuse to grow the fuck up.

i also think this is particularly important just to note, bc like yeah i'm talking about fictional women here, but it's no surprise to me when these men and boys turn out to be raging misogynists irl, recreate meninism and harbour unquestionable transmisogyny, all bc they've normalised this way of thinking whilst victimising and infantilising themselves at the same time so that they can't be criticised. i would be deeply ashamed if i had the lived experience of a woman in any way, shared everything in common with them that we do and actively chose to turn my back on them. you don't grow misogyny the second you try out he/him pronouns but these idiots sure act like it. if you as a transmasc cannot at all find it in yourself to want to relate to or share experiences with or even just plain like and love and respect women you need to seriously examine why, doubly so for anyone who IS attracted to them in some way for some very obvious reasons.

[talentforlying]

one of these days i'm going to write up all that i've changed from azzarello's bullshit era and the one (1) piece i've kept from milligan (and also changed) and the only thing currently stopping me is that it is going to be so, so inside-baseball incomprehensible. and i almost never want to go reading/screencapping azzarello and milligan to add references but i Want to add references.

canon is goop, just know that we continue to ride the bus down "hellblazer ended at #250 and looks like swiss cheese before that" street.

[stupid-dyke]

I can tell i am now experienceing actual real sleep deprivation and not just the omnipresent idiopathic hypersomnia fake sleepiness that my stupid lying body never shuts up about. I can tell because I am fallijng asleep in class regardless if I take my medication and I feel like everything is so, incredibly stupid and horrible, and everyone giving me homework or telling me to do anything is attacking me. And I can;t hold a conversation. And people are noticing my strange manner and pointing out that I seem wrong. And yet here we are AGAIN I have AGAIN stayed up late AND not gotten any work done. And on top of that I broke my fucking glasses tonight because I left them sitting on my fucking bed. And I'm freaking my parents out by crying over the phone and also I think I actually injured my shoulder last week its been hurting for four days now. and I'm so sad and mad at myself for not sleeping and not working but I can't work because I havent slept and I cant sleep because I havent worked. And every single time I get in a bad time like this my dad worries im going to die because i was suicidal for like a week in 2019 and then he gets mad at me for worrying him and I feel so so so guilty. Im so so sad.

[lexicog]

traitor to the cause forgets national holiday every year KILL HIM

[transgender-catboy]

I love my friends

[frodolives]

1850s Tumblr Dashboard Simulator

👸🏻 girlbossladyjane Follow

It really makes me sick to see people giving money to penny weeklies when Franklin's expedition STILL has not been found 😭 There are good men out there trapped in unimaginable temperatures and literally all that's needed is a little more funding for another rescue mission yet all you guys seem to care about are your vulgar little stories...

🧔🏻‍♂️ queerqueg Follow

the franklin expedition is dead as hell

👸🏻 girlbossladyjane Follow

Disgraceful thing to say but I'd expect nothing more from a M*lville fan

10,558 notes

👨🏻‍❤️‍💋‍👨🏻 hartgrindisreal

Sorry for posting so much about Tom Gradgrind/James Harthouse from Hard Times lately. It turns out that I was getting arsenic poisoning from my wallpaper? Anyway I took a seaside stroll and I'm normal now. Check your walls y'all

#whyyy did i assume they were committing unlawful actions together like where did i even get that from lol #hard times isn't even that good by dickens standards tbh

659 notes

🎨 asherbrowndurand

Just painted this

2 notes

ss-arctic-girlie-deactivated18540927

RIP Napoleon... you may have been unable to conquer Alexander's Russia but you sure as hell conquered Alexander's bed

🖼️ preraphaelitebro Follow

HERITAGE POST

📝 shakespearesforehead Follow

How does this have less than 100k notes you could literally not avoid this post back in the 20s lol

82,170 notes

🌄 loyalromantic Follow

poets just aren't dying young in mysterious water-related incidents like they used to :/

#as useless and degenerative as i find 'the living poets' and i'm glad we're finally moving on from them #i have to agree with op in this respect

6,884 notes

🎀 thefopdiaries Follow

I finally got a daguerreotype of myself ^_^ Porcelain urn for scaling

📜 bartlebi-thescrivener

i think i hauve consumption

112 notes

🐋 whaler4life

They found oil in the ground??? WTF. THIS IS LITERALLY THE WORSTTTT. FUCK MY LIFE FOR REAL THIS TIME

11 notes

🌿 naturesnaturalist Follow

I swear this website has 0 reading comprehension skills. Darwin NEVER claimed we "evolved" from apes like if one of you guys actually bothered to open his new book you'll see all his arguments are backed up by evidence. He actually makes a lot of sense

#sure there's nuance like i don't fully agree with all of it #but his general theory of natural selection seems pretty sound imo

56 notes

🤵🏻‍♂️ byronicherotournament Follow

🙈 butchbronte Follow

Of course these are the finalists lmao this website is so predictable. Anyway vote Heathcliff if you dont i'm going to assume you're a phrenologist

📖 sapphichelenburns Follow

It's not problematic to acknowledge the fact that Heathcliff was a brute like he literally killed dogs in case you forgot. #rochestersweep

🙈 butchbronte Follow

I love the implication here that Rochester never did anything cruel either. He literally locked his wife in the attic and lied to Jane about it 😭 like that was a pretty significant thing that happened

📖 sapphichelenburns Follow

And? God forbid women do anything

#why'd you have to pit two bad bitches against each other #anyway i'm not attracted to men but still went with rochester #bc in terms of living quarters thornfield hall > wuthering heights easily

8,027 notes

👨🏻‍❤️‍💋‍👨🏻 hartgrindisreal

Not the Russian tsar dying immediately after hartgrind became canon

#i know dickens hasn't technically confirmed it yet but like. SOMETHING was strongly implied ok #see: my previous post #dickensposting

522 notes

👨🏻‍❤️‍💋‍👨🏻 hartgrindisreal

LORD HELP ME. THE BODY LANGUAGE. THE WAY THEY'RE LOOKING AT EACH OTHER. AHHHHHH

#this installment!!! im-- #dickensposting #i can't fucking cope #dickens wants to KILL us he wants us DEAD....

2,309 notes

⭐️ newamerican

Hi guys sorry I haven't been posting lately it's been so difficult getting to California 💀 I'm finally here now though just need to find a pickaxe and soon I'll be digging! :-) wish me luck lol

#gold #gold rush #gold rush grind #california #adventure

0 notes

[neverendingford]

.

[nullcoast]

The world is fucking disgusting

[angelltheninth]

I wanna sit on Lucifier's face. I love him so much! I will never understand why Lilith left him.

I don't think she had a choice honestly, that face was her throne.

Pairing: Lucifer Morningstar x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, cunnilingus, tongue fucking, flirting, tail use, face riding, coming in pants, Lucifer is indeed the Sin of Pride

Word count: 0.6k

A/N: I won't get into why she had to leave but I love the idea of Lucifer getting face ridden by her. Those are some THIGHS.

"You keep looking at me like you want something. Don't be shy now, what can the King of Hell do for you?" Lucifer smirked at you as he leaned closer, completely forgetting about the movie you were supposed to be watching.

You caught his tongue moving as he spoke, staring, intrigued.

"I... want to ride your face." You learned early on that with Lucifer it was best not to play games. You had to be honest and blunt.

His eyes widened and he turned off the TV immediately. Sheepishly he scratched the back of his head, his posture stiff. Oh no. Did you make him uncomfortable?

"Haven't worked my tongue like that in a bit... Fuck. But hey! I'll never know if it works unless I try it again." Lucifer leaned in close his tail and horns emerging as his hands pushed up your legs. "Don't let the sharp teeth fool you, darling. I'm really gifted." His growled at the end, making a flood in your panties.

You were more nervous than he was, as you straddled his face and his hands pushed your dress up. A small noise of surprise was heard from below you, then a chuckle before you saw him wiggle his eyebrows at you. So you wanted to make things easier just in case he said yes, so what?

"Dripping on my face already. You should have asked me sooner." Lucifer's long tongue pressed from your entrance to your clit, vibrating as he moaned at the familiar yet new taste.

He raised his hips of the bed so his tail could reach around your thigh, keeping your legs spread on each side of his head. Moving a bit down his eyes fluttered closed, tongue pushing in to taste you properly. You groaned, "Oh God." He stopped, eyes narrowing but not opening. Why did he... oh. "Lucifer." You moaned again.

Humming in a pleased tone he flicked his tongue upwards, rewarding you. Of course the Sin of Pride didn't want you to moan someone else's name.

He was the one tongue deep inside you, he was the one whose face you were riding, he was the one who had his tail wrapped around your leg, he was the one bringing you closer and closer to an orgasm.

And himself too from the sound of the bed.

You felt almost bad that he had to hump air but you couldn't do anything from this position. Lucifer didn't seem to mind too much, focused on your taste, your walls tightening around his slippery tongue with every roll of your hips.

"Lucifer, I'm so close." Searching for anything to grab onto for balance your hands wrapped around his horns.

That triggered something in him. He growled your name against your cunt, the sound traveling all the way to your clit, his tongue curling faster and faster, assaulting that same vulnerable spot inside of you.

With the moan of your name you heard the bed creak once again, and again when you came around his tongue. Lucifer's head feel backwards, tongue slipping out of you, his lower face completely soaked in your juices.

"Golly." He chuckled, "No one's done that in a while." His joyous laughter filled the room. "Warn a guy before you touch his horns."

"S-Sorry. I thought I was gonna fall." You felt your whole body flush hot.

"I would have caught you." Lucifer nuzzled his cheek against your inner thigh, letting out a sound that reminded you of a purring cat. "I still got it!"

Sin of Pride indeed. It didn't matter that his face was wet and underwear creamed, he was nothing if not boastful about it. And about how hard he could get again, very quickly.

[slytherinslut0]

MATTHEO RIDDLE ONESHOT- We Aren’t Over

VOTERS RESULT FROM MY POLL<3 XOXO ENJOY

Info: FWB gets jealous seeing you kiss another guy at a party after the two of you had called things off.

Word count: 4.5k

Tags: 18+, PURE SMUT, PIV, FWB, Praise Kink, Degradation Kink, Begging, Teasing, Jealousy, Threats of Violence, Good Sex

"You look so fucking sexy..."

large hands belonging to an admittedly handsome Ravenclaw student that you failed to acquire the name of gripped your hips; firmly pulling you against his tall body as his lips grazed your ear, hot whiskey breath washing over you, intoxicating you even further than you already were.

One hand slid around to your ass, gripping a palmful of the plump flesh over the fabric of your Slytherin uniform skirt. Your breath hitched in your throat as he nipped your earlobe, teeth tugging gently on your emerald earring, his voice a low reverberation down your spine.

"I'd love to rip that awful fucking uniform off of you and get a taste of what you're hiding under there..."

Your cheeks burned, warmth flooding you as you chewed on your lip, bringing your mouth toward his own ear now as the two of you could hardly hear yourselves think amidst the blaring music coming from the speakers in the out-of-control Friday night Slytherin party, green flashing lights blurring your vision further than the alcohol was as you squinted to try and get a better glimpse of his face.

In your intoxicated state, you couldn't recognize this guy for the life of you. The only thing that gave away his Ravenclaw status was his uniform.

"I'd be careful with your next words there, little Raven," you purred, your unsteady fingers finding his shoulders. "I promise you, you'll regret coming into my house and disrespecting my emblem like that..."

Gods, you were fucking hammered, but since you and your friends-with-benefits had called things off last weekend; you'd been desperate to find someone new to hopefully satisfy you just as well as he did--but admittedly, your hopes were low.

Not many boys knew your body like the back of their hand, or knew exactly how to drive you sexually insane, the way Mattheo fucking Riddle did.

"Is that so?" His grip on your body tightened, a deep groan leaving his throat as he pressed his lips to your jaw. "I'm not quite sure a poor little serpent like you is any match for a big bad raven like me..."

"You'd be surprised," you retorted, slowly threading your fingers through his thick brown hair. "It's been proven that even the most intelligent birds couldn't elude the cunning serpent's snare..." you tilted your head, smirking. "But go on, underestimate me...that'll be fun."

His eyes widened, the darkness inside his pupils boring into you, drowning you in their endless voids. Your stomach twisted as your sight locked in with his, and you took a moment to analyze his features a little better. Gods, he looked so fucking much like Mattheo.

Why was it that you could never seem to get that fucking guy out of your head?

You were convinced that you were going to die one day with his gorgeous fucking face still haunting you--those dark penetrating eyes, that devilish, seductive smirk--that messy mop of chocolate curls that sat effortlessly adorable over his forehead. Fuck, you hated him.

You hated him for fucking you so good you couldn't stop fucking thinking about him; even after the endless bickering and arguing the two of you had been going through over the last few weeks, causing a consensual end to your hookups--you hated him for occupying your mind even while you were pressed up against an undeniably sexy new guy, who clearly had a deep interest in you, who clearly wanted to fuck you until your legs gave out.

You should be happy right now, you should be overly fucking ecstatic, practically brimming with relief as the Ravenclaw guy leaned in, pressing his lips to yours and capturing your mouth in a sloppy, intoxicated kiss; his tongue slipping past your teeth as his hands gripped your ass with enough force to bruise--you should be completely fucking overjoyed as your lids fluttered shut, your mouths working over the others with a little too much desperation as you stood in the middle of the crowded common room, fervent fingers gripping onto each other as though your lives depended on it.

You should be happy, but you're not.

When you broke the kiss, the Ravenclaws brows furrowed, but before he had a chance to ask you to his dorm, and in a hopeful attempt at subtly saving yourself, you brought your lips toward his ear, trying to sound as sexy and inconspicuous as possible. "Why don't you get us some drinks?"

When he smirked, nodding in agreement, he graced your ass with one last squeeze before he spun around, making his way across the room and heading toward the bar station. You watched him as he went, and as soon as he had disappeared within the sea of inebriated bodies; you let out a long, exasperated breath; spinning on your heel to quickly make your way to the bathroom and away from that spot before he returned.

Sure, you felt bad for ditching him like that, but he was just as drunk as you were. He'd forget you even existed by the morning.

As you shoved your way through the endless amounts of drunk, sweaty bodies, you'd almost successfully broke through the crowd when a strong, firm grip wrapped around your wrist; hot breath washing over your neck as a tall body pressed against your backside--a height so towering and presence so intoxicating you already knew, without hearing his voice or seeing his face, that it could only be one fucking man.

"Where you headed, princess?" Mattheo's deep, husky drawl rolled through your eardrums like honey; a slow, thick, and admittedly fucking seductive pitch. "You're not really going to ditch that poor bastard after getting him going like that, are you?"

You turned your head, trying to glimpse him over your shoulder, fighting to hide your smirk. "I don't see how that's any of your business, Riddle."

"Ouch...one week without my cock and we're already back to second name basis, huh?" His grip tightened, his body heat enveloping you, his plush lips pressed tight against your ear. "I'm just surprised...you looked like you were enjoying yourself."

"Stalking me, are you?" You scoffed, trying to pry your wrist from his hold but he tightened his grip even further, other hand snaking around to your hip. "Is the big heartless Riddle boy jealous?"

He chuckled, and you could almost see the smirk on his lips. The feeling of his chest rumbling against your back did inexplicable things to your cunt. Gods, you hated how you were already fucking melting for him and you haven't even taken one single look at his face.

"Were you thinking about me?" He purred, teeth nipping at your ear, the arrogance in his tone igniting flames in your veins. "When his tongue was halfway down your fucking throat, were you wishing it was mine?"

"Give me a break, Mattheo." Your head was spinning, oxygen evaporating; but you knew you needed to play it off. "Don't fucking flatter yourself."

"You know you love the things I fucking did to you..." by this point his voice was a low growl, his tone so deep and dark in your ear it sent shudders skittering down your spine. "You know you'll search for me in every single sad sack you try to distract yourself with."

Heat flashed your face, his fingers digging into your hip with enough force to bruise. "Jealous of a Ravenclaw...must be a tough pill to swallow for the Slytherin prince-"

When his teeth sunk into your earlobe with enough force to basically tell you to shut up without actually saying it, you yelped--eyes fluttering shut as he tugged you back against him with added force.

"Keep talking, princess, and I won't hesitate to walk over there and rearrange his fucking face..." he spat the words through barred teeth, your bones shaking with the deep vibration. "Do you even know his name? Huh? Do you even know who the fuck he is?"

Gods, you were cursing yourself. As if you were about to fold for this man after he'd basically told you to fuck off and leave him alone no less than a week ago. Your brain knew, above all else, that what you were about to do was completely fucking wrong--but your cunt paid no mind to your brains protests. Your cunt wanted Mattheo Riddle.

"No, Matty, I don't..." you whispered, tilting your head to give him better access to you neck. "Lots of night left, though...I'm sure I'll be quite familiar with it when I'm screaming-"

He sunk his teeth into your neck now, forcing a sharp squeal from your lips--another commanding gesture to silently warn you that if you kept talking, he was going to fucking lose it. Part of you hoped he would.

"What have I told you about saying my fucking name like that, princess..." he growled, licking a flat strip up the side of your throat. Fuck, you loved that tongue. That skilled, tentative fucking tongue. "And if you keep talking like that, the only thing you'll be screaming is for me to stop when I'm beating his fucking face into the floor..."

His words made you fucking shudder, a full body tremor against his built chest, entirely unable to control yourself now. The need between your thighs was becoming more insistent by the second, and at this point--you were at a complete loss for words; your lips involuntarily uttering the one word you knew you'd never forget how to say, regardless of how speechless you were.

His name. "Mattheo..."

"There she is..." he murmured, the praise in his tone making your breath hitch in your lungs. "Aren't you glad you met me? I know you got me stuck inside your memory..."

Long fingers slipped under the fabric of your shirt, grazing over your stomach. Bodies were everywhere, drunk students around you paying absolutely no mind to the intoxicated sins the two of you were about to commit.

"No," you uttered, so quiet you weren't even sure if he'd heard it. "I want you out of my fucking head..."

He purred in satisfaction, revelling in the fact you'd finally admitted to missing him. "Should've listened to me, princess...told you I was bad for you..."

More heat swarmed you, your thighs screaming; begging in need. "We can't keep doing this...it's so wrong, Matty..."

"But it feels so right, doesn't it?" His hand around your wrist snuck down to your hip, his other pressed against your stomach; pulling you tighter against his crotch--your breath evaporated when you felt his aggressive bulge against your ass. "Feel that, princess? That's what you fucking do to me..."

He pressed his lips to your pulse, teeth softly grazing over it, and you mewled; head falling back against his shoulder, body melting into his own--surrendering yourself to his intoxicating dominance just as you've done time and time before.

"I hate myself for letting you do this to me..." you breathed, head rolling to the side as his teeth worked purple possession marks into your skin. "I'm so stupid for you..."

"That's it, admit it, baby...admit that you missed this..." his grip tightened, tone thickened with lust. "You're my little devil, you know I'd sin for you..."

At his words, your entire body ignited into pure fucking flame, magma replacing the blood that flowed through your veins; threatening to melt your uniform and leaving you in nothing more than a pile of ash at his feet. You were done talking, you needed his fucking cock.

"Are we gonna quit the talking and do something about it then, hm?" You purred, tilting your head back to meet his eyes for the first time; your head spinning as you drowned in the dark hurricane of their desire. "Show me how you'd sin for me, Matty..."

"I'll show you, baby, I'll fucking show you..." he said, wetting his lips as he held your stare. "Your dorm or mine?"

Music to your fucking ears. "Yours."

Without another word, Mattheo gripped your wrist, his hold like a snake, slithering around you gently at first; slowly increasing its pressure until he'd cut the blood flow, threatening suffocation of your lungs and leaving you with only hungry, primal desire--eradicating all thoughts of just how horrible of an idea you knew this was. He dragged you out of the common room and toward his dorm, not sparing you a single glance as he ripped open the door and pulled you inside; slamming your back up against it as it closed, one hand snaking toward the lock and clicking it tight into place.

When he paused, two hands finding residence against the wood on either side of your head; not moving, only staring, it was as though the rest of the world faded away--and all that was left was the cunning, messy brown haired boy in front of you. His presence filled the room, suffocating you, stopping your heart mid-beat. He loomed over you, toes centimeters from your own, chest so close that you both would touch with a deep enough breath.

You scanned his body, heart pounding, palms sweating from the impending reality of your desire, and he smirked, leaning closer.

"I don't think I can allow another man to lay a fucking finger on you ever again..." he whispered. "I don't think that perfect fucking pussy can belong to anyone fucking else."

"Since when did it belong to you, Matty?" You shuddered, deciding to test him a bit. "I thought we were just casual-"

"You think anyone else could fuck you stupid like I do?" You could practically feel his fingernails digging into the wood beside your head, the anger building in his eyes. "How about your exes? How'd they fuck you, huh?"

Your throat tightened. "Mattheo-"

"Say it." He growled, leaning closer--so close your noses brushed. "You want me to make you fucking cum, princess? Say that little pussy is mine."

Gods, curse your fucking insatiable need to get fucked. At this point, you were fully cognizant of the fact that this man could make you say damned-near anything if it meant he'd get inside you. Swallowing your ego, you met his stare--as intense as it had ever felt--and licked your lips.

"It's yours, Matty..." you murmured. "It's all yours."

Mattheo Riddle smirked. "That's fucking right."

Unable to decide between indignant and patronized, you eschewed both, and instead opted to hook your fingers into his belt, pulling yourself into him while you boosted yourself on your tiptoes to meet his lips with your own. Your kiss was hungry and demanding as you sought to memorize his mouth with your tongue. Mattheo's large hands cupped your face, fingers delving into your hair while he pressed into you, forcing you back tighter against the door.

You groaned against his lips, writhing underneath him while you slid your tongue along his teeth, seeking to know every part of him, needing him to want you--to fucking need you like you needed him. Mattheo drew in a breath through his nose and pushed deeper, like he wanted to fuse you with the door, and your hands shot into his hair, a shiver running through you as you felt how soft, how luxurious it was between your fingers.

Another soft groan rumbled in your chest, and--having distant, fuzzy deja vu of the countless encounters prior--you wrapped the curly tendrils of his hair around your fingers and yanked it.

At that, a deep moan left his throat, and he pulled back, waves of harsh breath crashing over him. His blackened eyes darted across your face, switching between your lips and eyes. "Fucking naughty little thing..." he huffed, smirking.

"For you, always," you murmured, and he groaned, wetting his lips as he leaned closer.

"Fuck-that's right...I love it when you're bad...you only act this way for me, huh?" His voice was a low purr, warm breath crashing your face. "That why you didn't fuck him? That why you ran?"

Chewing your lip, you nodded, and tugged his hair again, bringing him to your mouth once more.

He smirked against you and his hands fell to your hips, roaming the swell of your curves before gripping the underside of your thighs and hiking you onto the door. Immediately, the aching length in his pants ground into your center while his tongue fought its way into your mouth. Without you having to think, your legs circled him, and your hips were grinding back, pursuing any friction and heat you could find.

You peeled away to catch a breath, hands resting in his hair, and his lips went to work on your neck, suckling and nibbling the skin there.

"Matty...please..." you murmured, already begging for something, anything. "I need you."

Snuffing a groan, Mattheos grip bruised your hips as he bucked into you, grinding you against the door.

"You want me to fuck you, slut?" he said, breath hot on your neck. "Didn't get enough of my cock last time?"

"No-fuck-I didn't," you mewled, a slight embarrassment washing over you. "It's never enough."

Mattheo growled, his grip hardening to iron, and he licked a warm, wet line along your pulse. "That's right...that's what I like to hear..."

Sinking his teeth into your neck, he pushed off the door, walking over toward his bed as he held you against his chest. You watched the door get further and further away, lust building and growing in your chest as he nipped your jawline before grazing his lips over yours again, softly and briefly as he reached the edge of his mattress and laid you back against it.

When you hit the bed, he kept his mouth on yours while his hands left your waist; fervent fingers finding the fabric of your button up blouse and untucking it from your skirt, cold hands slipping underneath and groping your tits through your bra--a deep groan leaving his chest as you bucked your hips up against his crotch; wanting him closer, needing him closer.

His hands slid back down, finding the hem of your skirt and flipping it up your stomach, wasting zero fucking time before he hooked his thumbs around the band of your thong and peeled them down your thighs. The minute you were exposed, you heard the clatter of his belt buckle hitting the floor, and your pussy throbbed.

"Matty..."

Mattheo chuckled, the weight of his stare resting on your naked pussy; wallowing in your clear desperation for him.

"Look at you," he murmured. "So fucking wet." He released a long breath--he was testing his own patience, now. "This perfect body can't help but to crave me..."

You groaned as he teased your inner thigh with one hand, the other working to peel his shirt off his torso in one swift movement--exposing his hard, firm fucking abs and leaving him looming before you in just black briefs--looking as delicious and sexy as you've ever goddamn seen him.

As his long fingers ghosted over your folds, you arched, groaning when he brushed past it toward the inside of your other thigh; squirming in slight frustration, admittedly the teasing was absolutely getting to you now.

"Mattheo, I swear to-"

A firm, sharp smack to the sensitive skin of your inner thigh stopped the words in your throat; your stomach twisted as you watched Mattheo's eyes darken and lips curl sadistically.

"Is that how I taught you to ask for what you want?" He sneered, wetting his lips as he met your pleading eyes. "You know what I want to hear, princess."

You winced, swallowing your pride furthermore, until it was eroding in your stomach acid. "Please, Matty...please make me cum..."

His lips parted. "Good girl.”

His hum of approval was followed by the warm kiss of his fingertips along the sensitive lips of your pussy, feathersoft at first, and then one thick finger slipped between your folds, gliding between them, slicking itself with your wetness and grazing the swollen nub of your clit. That did it--blinded with relief, you cracked, moaning deep in your chest. Blood flushed your face, tingling your cheeks.

"You like that?" He brushed the bundle of nerves again, earning another shuddered groan. "You like the way I touch you? The way that pretty pussy responds to me?"

"Yes...Gods, yes..." you replied, the sentence coming without thought.

"That's right..." his free hand wrapped around the back of your thigh, tugging you closer to the edge of the bed, fingers swirling around your clit in tight circles, and you gasped, your mouth dropping in bliss, your rapid panting filling the steamy air.

"Fuck you're so sexy, my dirty little whore in her short little uniform skirt..." a stifled groan cut through his throat, and you shot a glance at him; one hand rubbing his strained erection through his boxers. "It took everything I had not to bend you over the fucking desk in class all week...fuck you know how to test me..."

You cried out, your pussy clenching, craving to be filled by him. "Matty, fuck-please..."

"Please what?" He growled.

Gods, curse him--curse him to bloody hell. You couldn't fucking handle this anymore. You knew he was punishing you, making you fucking beg and shatter and cry for it after what you'd done; and the way his fingers stroked your clit had you spasming, jerking--so close to cumming, you just wanted him inside you.

"Please." You banished all pride and ego and fucking common sense to the perimeter of your mind. Asylum. Just this once. "Please, fuck me...please."

"Tell me I'm the only one." He hissed, slipping a finger inside your wet, throbbing core; your back arching off the mattress as his thumb increased its pace on your clit. "Tell me you'll never let another man put his fucking hands on what's mine."

A cyclone was roaring in your brain, tearing apart coherent trains of thought with primitive, physical clamoring. Your response was pieced together by the efforts of your need for release alone.

"Fuck-no, never, Matty...I'm yours...all fucking yours..."

He was staring at you, face blank, surveying you while you twitched and jerked underneath his ministrations. His focus switched between your pussy--desperately throbbing and melting against his touch--and your red, sweating face, jaw slack from your haze of pleasure. You chewed your lip--it was bruised by now, certainly--clenching hard, and he groaned, pulling his boxers down to let his thick, needy cock spring free.

"Cum for me, slut." He ordered. "Cum for me right fucking now."

As if controlled by a remote in his hands, a tidal wave of euphoria slammed into you, walls pulsing, body wracked with the convulsions of an aggressively pent up orgasm, vision whiting out as you threw your head back, a loud string of unintelligible curses flying from you. Mattheo hummed, hand working you to the end of your orgasm as his free one slowly stroked his cock, watching every tiny ministration of your face with an exasperated expression until he was certain you were past it.

And when he was, he wasted no fucking time before he gripped your ankles in his hands, staring down at you as he began to rock his hips; his hard, throbbing dick sliding between your slit.

"Tell me you want it," he purred. "Beg for it."

You groaned. "Please, I want it Matty…I want you so fucking bad."

With a goddamn suffocatingly arrogant and devilish grin, he braced himself as he sunk into your pussy; your wet walls swallowing his cock with ease as you let loose a long, satisfied moan--Mattheo sucked a breath in through his bared teeth as sheathed himself all the way inside your cunt, pausing there to feel you clench and adjust around him.

"So fuckin' tight..." he groaned, head bowing. "Fuck you feel so good around me."

Your eyes squeezed shut, your fingers finding Mattheo's hands until he gathered both of your wrists and pinned them above your head with just one of his, leaning over you to fuck you deep and hard as his free hand snuck down to your clit. Throttled cries of pleasure were leaking from you, your conscious slipping from reality as he pummelled your pussy like you deserved the pain.

"Fuck, yes," you practically screamed. "You fuck me so good Matty...so deep, fuck-" 

A deep snarl roared from Mattheo's chest, his grip on your wrists tightening while he fucked you deeper, harder, your body rocking from the power of his thrusts. You could feel his ragged breath on your face, knew without seeing him that he was above you, lips parted, pupils blown.

"Look at me," he growled. "Let me see those eyes as you fucking cum for me."

Groaning, you obeyed, lids fluttering open to meet his gaze. Mattheo was possessed, looking past you, through you, panting with every snap of his hips. You lost yourself in his stare, the rest of the room falling away, and his fingers moved faster over your clit, bringing you to that precipice once more. Little choked moans left you while your jaw hung slack, his cock pounding into you--then his fingers hit just the right spot, and the massive, asphyxiating pressure inside of you imploded. Mattheo watched you, not even blinking once.

You thought you kept your eyes open, but you weren't sure, because you whited out, spasming and convulsing as your orgasm wracked your every cell, your every nerve, taking you to a height you'd never been to, never thought existed. Distantly, you were aware of your cunt drawing out Mattheo's climax as he cursed and dug his teeth into your shoulder, fucking you harder as he spilled himself deep inside of you.

You hadn't realized what had happened until your spirit returned to your body and you felt the burn of hot, wet tears streaming down your cheeks--evidence of your relief--followed by Mattheo collapsing on top of you, cock buried still inside your pussy, and both of you drank in lungfuls of air, starved for it, your brains fuzzy with the static of euphoria. You both laid there for a moment, rapt in the descent back to reality, until he pushed himself up and pulled out, holding you firmly in his stare again.

As he began to piece his clothes back together, you gathered your composure, pulling yourself up and off his bed, fixing yourself back to some form of decency. As you swallowed, watching Mattheo latch up his belt, he met your eyes again; the dark lust slowly fading, being replaced by an unspoken emotion you couldn't attempt to name.

"This isn't over." He breathed, moving back toward you. "We aren't over."

When your lungs hitched, you nodded, admitting to yourself that you already fucking knew you couldn't live without that. Without him.

"No," you whispered. "We aren't."

[leclerc-hs]

ex's and oh's - CL16

pairing: ex!charles leclerc x fem!reader summary: in which you and your ex-boyfriend are in complicated territory OR your ex fucks you in the drivers seat of his car warnings: 18+, SMUT under the cut, badly translated french (pls correct me), not proofread!!!! word count: 2.4k author's note: ok I just want to sincerely apologize for my long absence on here!!! i know you’ve been waiting for me to finish this for a while now LOL but I've been insanely busy balancing life with two jobs lol. So I'm going to leave this here. I can honestly say it's not my best work and I apologize for that but I really wanted to give y'all something in the mean time. I have a bunch of drafts I plan to work on whenever I get the chance. Love you all!! pls forgive me and don't forget to leave me some comments and thoughts xoxo

THERE WAS NOTHING that could’ve prepared you for this fight. You weren’t drunk, as promised. Although you weren’t sober either. 

You and Charles were...complicated. Exes but…. still, something more. You would always be something more. Your history stretched back almost forever, and that alone made it challenging to stay apart from each other.

There was a point in time when the aftermath of your breakup made it impossible for both of you to share the same space. It invariably led to bitter arguments over seemingly trivial matters. One such instance was during a movie night with your group of friends when you showed up in a sweatshirt that was far too big for your body, obvious that it wasn’t your own. Charles simmered with silent resentment in the corner until he could no longer contain it. The memory etched vividly in your mind, recalling the knots in your stomach throughout the night, feeling the intense burn of Charles’ gaze upon you. He didn’t cast a single glance at the movie that evening.

“Who’s fucking sweatshirt is that?”

“Already fucking other people, hm?”

As you slid into the familiar supple leather seats of his Ferrari, you felt the warmth of the car hug you like a blanket, providing much relief from the contrast of the cold air outside. In the process of slipping into his car, your skirt had ridden up higher than Charles would’ve preferred, your panties nearly exposed if it weren’t for the sheer tights providing more coverage. Did you really go out dressed like that? He felt his hands grip the steering wheel tighter than normal as a waft of your perfume enveloped the car. 

“Did you have fun?” His tone was neutral, but his body posture was tense. He barely turned his head to check if you placed your seat belt on before peeling out from the curb at a speed much too fast.

Sober you would’ve caught onto his attitude almost immediately. But tipsy you, thought nothing of it. 

“Oh Charlie!” You exasperated, the click of your seatbelt filling the car as the radio was turned on the lowest possible volume. “It was so fun!” 

He dropped one of his hands from the wheel, bringing his hand to rub the scruff of his unshaven jaw, as a deep sigh falls past his lips. He was annoyed—more than annoyed. The sole fact that you left him unanswered for hours wasn’t his only issue. What had his muscles all tight and the permanent frown on his face was the images of one of your guy friends being way too close to you. Too close for Charles liking. It was the same guy that his friends had briefly mentioned weeks ago on his boat. 

“Cha, l’aimes-tu toujours?”  Do you still love her? His friends sat around the table; half-eaten food left on their plates. He didn’t answer the question immediately. But everyone knew, subconsciously, that he did.

“Elle et Nick été proches récemment,” Her and Nick have been close lately. The phrase alone made Charles choke on his water. In that moment, he thanked the lord for the sunglasses covering his widened eyes. The burn in his chest began simmering as the conversation continued.

“Oui, ne sont-ils pas partis ensemble l’autre soir?” Yeah, didn’t they leave together the other night?

He couldn’t blame his friends for the discussion. They didn’t know that you two were still in complicated territory. Everyone always figured you two would rekindle, but it’s been so long, no one knew if it would happen anymore.

So, although Charles felt like the air was being sucked out of his lungs, he plastered a big smile on his face while throwing his arm around the back of the chair beside him. “Nick, hm?”

He made a genuine effort to control his anger. Honestly, he really did try. However, as you persisted in discussing the night, particularly when the name ‘Nick’ slipped past your lips, he couldn’t help but lose his composure just a little bit.

His voice took on a lethal edge as he maneuvered the car to the side of the desolate road. The act of driving demanded attention, but his mind was a whirlwind of a million thoughts. He was consumed by anger, it oozed from every pore of his skin as he scoffed and turned to confront you. Your eyes were already fixated on him, and his gaze instantly met yours.

“A-t-il touché à toi?” Did he touch you? His voice rumbled like a low growl, and the green in his eyes was so deep and intense that it masked their actual color, making it nearly impossible to discern the green hue. But you memorized those eyes. His eyes. You were familiar with every nuance of shade that adorned them. His breath was slow and even as he awaited your answer.

The idea drove him insane—the notion of another man laying his hands on you. And even worse, you wanting another man’s hands on you.

For a moment, you found yourself taken aback, only to fully comprehend his tense posture and the sharpness in his tone. Suppressing any inclination to react visibly, you wrestled to maintain a neutral expression, ensuring your lips didn’t betray a hint of a smirk at his jealousy. You didn’t even need to ask who he was. 

“Et est-ce que cela aurait de l’importance s’il l’avait fait?” And would it matter if he did?

The fact that you didn’t need to even address who he was talking about, only caused him to spiral further. As if you were confirming that Nick is the only other option. 

The car felt increasingly smaller as the anger in Charles grew. His knee was bouncing with impatience as he clenched his jaw. Yes. Yes, it fucking mattered. He wanted to shout until his lungs gave out that it mattered. He began to lose the evenness of his breathing pattern, becoming more erratic as you didn’t answer the question.

“Dis-le-moi et nous le découvrirons,” Tell me and we’ll find out. His eyes traced your every movement as your eyes narrowed at him, a scowl forming on your lips. The lips he dreamed about almost every night. 

The silence in the car heightened, and with each passing second, you could feel your heart rate quicken. His gaze remained fixated on your face, unwilling to divert elsewhere. It was as if he were a predator, and you, his prey, captivated under the unrelenting focus of his eyes.

“What? No snarky remarks for me?” C’mon play with me. Although he felt like his chest might crack in two, he needed to mask it. Needed to be nonchalant. 

The tension lingered until you took a sharp swallow, the muscles in your neck twitching, that his eyes shifted, descending to the nape of your neck. They fixated on the subtle gleam of your collarbones, still glistening with a thin sheen of sweat from the night’s dancing. His gaze traced the gentle rise and fall of your breasts with each breath. He wanted to devour you whole.

You felt your thighs clench slightly from his pressuring gaze. He is so fucking hot. His hair in complete disarray from running his hands through it. He wore a pair of grey sweats and a black hoodie that made you want to cling your body around him as soon as you saw him.

“Y a-t-il quelque chose entre vous deux?” Is there something between you two? His patience was wearing thin. You still haven’t answered his question, and the silence was eating him alive.

You detected a subtle waver in his tone, prompting a softening in your gaze. Your hand gently reached for his face, and he allowed his head to lean ever so slightly against the palm of your hand. It was as if your touch alone had the power to appease the turmoil of anger and jealousy rising within him. 

And as much as you loved to get under his skin like he did yours sometimes. You couldn’t find it in you to provoke him. To cause him any pain. “No.”

The corner of his lips twitched up slightly as your thumb brushed against his jawline. His hands tremble when they reach for you, pulling you out of your seat and across the center console into his lap. “Est-ce que cela aurait de l’importance?” Would it matter? You repeated the question as your legs straddled him. His hands slid around your waist, resting on your backside in a tight grip, so you couldn’t move. 

His mouth formed into a hardened line, as if he forced it to show you just how serious he was when he answered. “Bien sûr que cela a de l’importance,” Of course it matters. 

“Porquoi?” Why?

“Why?” He repeats your question. Scoffing at the fact that you even had to ask him. As if you didn’t already know why.

You suck in a sharp breath as soon as his warm tongue meets with the nape of your neck, trailing hot and wet kisses up until his lips meet yours for a moment before pulling away. 

“Mon coeur t’appartient.” My heart is yours. There was no questioning in his words. “Il a toujours été tien.” It’s always been yours. As those words hung in the air, your breath caught. You love this man. You love this man with every fiber of your being. 

His fingers gripped onto your thighs with an almost bruising intensity, as if he needed to confirm your presence by feeling you in his hands, ensuring you weren’t a figment of his imagination. His nails traced along the thin fabric at the apex of your thigh, before digging them in and tearing them open instantly. You let out an audible moan as his fingers found immediate solace to the damp spot on your underwear. Of course, you were already wet just by looking at him.

“Est-ce que tu m’aimes?” Do you love me? He questioned, adding slight pressure to your cotton covered clit. 

You moaned in delight at the contact but did not answer his question. It drove him mad.

His fingers slipped past your underwear, shoving them to the side, and slipping his fingers into your heated core. His fingers curled, hitting the spot you needed him most just right. Your back arched, barely grazing the horn of the steering wheel. Your hands were frantic, reaching for the waistband of his grey sweats as Charles lifted in hips off his seat to help you.

“Oh fuck,” You moaned out loud. The pace of Charles’ fingers had you careening forward with a cry, before he pulled them out of you completely, leaving you shouting “No!”.

“Relax cherie,” He clicked his tongue before pulling your chest flush with his, raising you up an inch to slide his cock right into you. He groaned as your pussy clenched tightly around him, squeezing him so tight he could barely focus on anything else. He held you down against him, letting neither of you move. 

It wasn’t until you fully sat, completely full of him, that he rips the buttons of your shirt open, revealing a lacy ensemble across your chest. He traces the tip of his finger along cup of your breast and says, “Did you wear this on purpose, hm?”

You shook your head, wiggling your hips with a groan. You needed to move, needed to feel the force of his cock into you, but he wouldn’t let you. He just held your hips down as if he was waiting for something.

"You feel so good," He groans. "Squeezing me so tight."

“Cha, please.” You begged, getting agitated at the lack of movement.

“Est-ce que tu m’aimes?” Do you love me? He repeats again. A grin stretched across his features at your obvious struggle. The fact that you needed his cock this badly, had him only growing harder. 

You bit your lip as Charles’ fingers sprawled across your neck in a tight grip, pulling your face to his. Close enough that your noses were touching.

“Réponds, et je suis tout à toi.” Answer, and I’m all yours.

“Est-ce que tu m’aimes?” Do you love me?

You don’t know what held you back from answering before. Because you did. He knew you did. He just needed to hear the words from your lips. Needed the reassurance that this was more than a quick fuck to you.

“Oui!” Yes! You half-shouted, eyes blown wide with need. “I will always love you!”

His hand released your hips, giving you the immediate go-ahead. You wasted no time, working yourself over his cock, moans eliciting from the both of you almost instantly. His hands slid to cup your ass, controlling your movements as he urges you to move faster.

“Mon dieu,” Charles groaned, his fingers dipping into the cup of your lacy ensemble, rolling your nipples between his index finger and thumb. “Je t’aime,” I love you.

The mere utterance of those words had you instinctively squeezing his cock with an intensified fervor, bringing you perilously close to the brink of ecstasy. A sly smirk played on his lips, a silent acknowledgment of the effect his declaration had on you.

You moved your hips faster, the bounce of your breasts had Charles in a trance before he brought his eyes back to your face, looking you deep in the eyes. “Je t’aime,” He muttered again, bringing his lips to your mouth, swallowing your moans as if they were the oxygen he needed to breathe. “C’mon, give it to me.” He begged, thrusting his hips upward into you as much as he could, eyes rolling to the back of his head until you both reach that point of ecstasy you both needed.

His face was bright red, cheeks flushed, as you worked yourself over him in a hurried pace. His sweatshirt no doubt, making him feel like a furnace, as sweat forms near his eyebrow. His eyes were wild, unsure where to look until they met with your eyes. His cock twitching inside of you from the clench of your pussy on him, and the gaze of your eyes.

“Je t’aime!” You shouted, releasing all over him and falling forward in exhaustion onto Charles chest. 

Charles groaned hotly into your ear, his release catching him completely off guard due to the words you uttered. You could hear his heart pounding in his chest as you rested against it. 

“Mon Coeur est à toi.” My heart is yours. His fingers caressed the ends of your hair behind your back. The both of you made no attempts to move.

“Mon Coeur est à toi.” My heart is yours. You repeat back to him, pressing a soft kiss to his lips.