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#let your voice be heard! let's settle this once and for all
fairene · 2 days
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one of your girls / ln4
part one
lando norris x fem!reader
reader uses she/her pronouns, no use of y/n.
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you are just one of his girls. a frequent regular. but something changes, and you are his favorite.
a/n ⋯ how do i explain myself...? guess i can't! this will be divided into two parts for the sake of dramatics, and truthfully i can't contain my excitement to share this with you all. reader's dresses are left to be ambiguous for your imagination, only the cut of the dress is described (perhaps a color, once, but i forget); as usual, it is always up to YOU what you are wearing;) i will be focusing on requests before the next part comes out!
inspiration ⋯ VIDEO
warnings ⋯ SMUT / 18++ minors DNI!!! language, drunk hookup, choking (slight), oral(m!receiving), unprotected p in v (wrap before you tap!), fingering!(f)receiving, overstimulation, feral lando. sickeningly in love lando, but not here; non monogamous (yet), insecure reader.
wc ⋯11.3k (unedited.)
your phone rang in from your bag, the vibration shocking you from your conference room in new york. you had been visiting there for your job, meeting with clients, and overall needing to schmooze the entire fucking office. you were sick of it at this point. 
and it was sunday, too. who works on a fucking sunday? you. because what’s life without the overtime pay? 
until you saw lando’s contact card lighting up your screen. you blushed, instantly, thinking of just how a week ago he had you laid out on his monaco penthouse, screaming and weeping his name while he fucked you rabidly. 
you answered, clearing your throat. 
“hello?” 
“i won! i won!” he shouted, the background noise of crowds drowning out the baritone of his voice. you raised a brow, but were quick to connect the dots. you’d been so busy with work that you’d forgotten that the race must’ve been over, you were only able to watch the beginning before you were swooped up into a meeting. 
your hand flew to cover your mouth as you stepped into your office, shutting the door. you couldn’t be loud, and tears began to welt in your eyes. “did you really?” 
“yes, yes! god, i’ve wanted this so bad…” he was absolutely full of rile and cheer. you could hear that from his voice clear as day. you were so happy for him. you wiped a stray tear that fell down your face and rolled to your chin. 
“i’m so happy for you, lan.” you breathed, laughing when your voice hitched with emotion. you knew that he caught it, letting out his own gasp at your retention. 
“you cryin’ for me?” he said your name, know damn well he had a cheeky smirk on his face. you scoffed, rolling your eyes and even he could hear the action. 
“shut up. let me be happy for you.” he laughed again, deep and rich, but relieved that you picked up the phone. it was hard for him to get your attention, though you felt vice versa. 
“let me be happy, then,” your brows raised at what he meant. “come to miami. tonight.”
you froze, your fingers fiddling with the hem of your work shirt. “lando…” you sighed. “you know i can’t…”
“please…!” he whined into the phone. 
your resilience to him was not good. clearly.
“call my boss.” you heard him yip and pop his lips. he was giddy and thrilled that you accepted his advances. it never did take much, though, did it? 
you hung up the phone before you could say anything else and settled back into your temporary station before you were back in monaco full time. the office here was more than sufficient and, you couldn’t help but thank god that you were here when lando called. the flight to miami wouldn’t be more than three hours. 
your boss knocked on the door a few minutes later with her brows raised. 
she spoke her name and you perked up. “you didn’t tell me you had family in miami,” she said, crossing her arms. but she wasn’t angry. 
“i do.” the lie was swift. but it wasn't really a lie, was it…?
“your cousin called me, said that you need to use pto hours for a wedding…” she looked at her apple watch. “which is in a few hours?” 
you gulped. “what can i say,” you shrugged, “i’m a workaholic.”
your boss shrugged, turning to leave. “take the week off, you deserve it.”
so this is what working so hard got you? damn. you practically leapt off your seat, packing away your laptop and other essentials you had brought to the office. when you were skipping down the steps of the building to the parking garage, you got a text. 
flight leaves 6
> one attachment 
it was lando. you opened the text as you were unlocking your door, realizing he sent you a boarding pass. he already filled out all your information. he wanted you there that bad, didn’t he? you wouldn’t even consider the two of you close friends rather than buddies who fuck. 
you hearted the message and raced home to pack. 
when you touched down in miami, there was a car waiting for you outside the airport. you were shocked with such lively treatment, but weren’t one to start complaining. the ride to lando’s hotel wasn’t very long, either, but it was beautiful. 
when you stepped out you were greeted by the miami breeze, refreshing from the stagnant air in your humid new york building. 
“thought you were gonna chicken out,” his voice was light and airy. you were so dazed by the grandeur of the building that you didn’t see lando standing there at the entrance. you immediately gaped at him, embarrassed that you were caught off guard. 
“on what, this? luxury? be for real!” you stifled a laugh. he held out his hand for your bag, and you gave it to him. but it was really meant for your hand. 
his other hand wrapped around your waist, pulling you close. he peppered light kisses to your neck, but not your mouth. your relationship wasn’t intimate like that, it never was. kissing was the next step to love, you told him, and you never reached for his lips with the amount of times you’ve fucked. 
but he did. 
there was always something about your aura that allured him. it drew him in like a moth to flame, and he would happily burn if it meant being in your presence. but he wasn’t ready for a relationship, so he told himself, and neither were you…so you told yourself. 
yet you’ve explored each other’s bodies like vestigios conquerors. you knew what made him tick, he knew what made you squirm. it was a fair trade, you thought, and you had no intention of staying exclusive to him. 
but you’d make it known to him that when you were both together, there were no other girls around. no boys. it would be just the two of you in your own world, but it was on a time limit. 
your hand found the back of his neck, leaning into his lips, but you pulled back when you heard some whispering– paparazzi. 
you said nothing as you shifted past him, ripping his head from your neck. he looked confused before he glanced towards the growing crowd around the hotel entrance, some phones being whipped out to record. but he honestly didn’t give a fuck. 
but you did. the last thing you wanted was to be plastered as a whore all over your feed. you still needed your fucking job. 
“what,” he said, coming closer to you. you took a distancing step back. he came closer. you didn’t move this time. “you didn’t miss me?”
him and his fucking ego. 
but you did. 
“want me to show you?” you spun around, full of sass. he let out a light laugh, pressing his shoulders back and straightening his posture. little to your knowledge, he was rendered speechless and his dick tightened in his pants. blood flooded to his abdomen, which had him shifting on his feet. this fucking girl. 
“come on,” you cooed, nudging his arm. “i came here to celebrate, no? and you haven’t even bought me a drink yet!” you got him there. he nodded, quickling showing you up to his hotel room in miami. it was a beautiful room with a living room and a single bedroom with a king bed. 
when you were up there you got a good look, running your hands over the fabric of the couch and the untouched champagne sitting on the coffee table. “this doesn’t count,” you picked up the bottle, turning to face lando from where he stood, placing your luggage on an armchair. 
“what? not expensive enough for you?” you rolled your eyes at him, placing the bottle back down on the platter with the glasses. you made haste opening your suitcase, rummaging through the outfits you brought for the duration of your stay, and in particular, your dress. 
you pulled out the carefully folded fabric. you held it out in front of you, impressed by the lack of wrinkles, and turned to lando. 
his jaw fell agape, staring at the magnificent piece. it was a longer dress that went to your mid calf, and sparkled in the dim lights of the room. he moved closer to you, running his fingers over the fabric. you gulped in his presence. 
“shit,” he sighed out, followed by a laugh. “better put it on now.” you raised a brow at him, confused. “else we won’t make it out that fuckin’ door.” 
you stifled a giggle and ran towards the bathroom, changing quickly. 
there was a knock at the front door when you were just finishing up your look. lando answered when you peeked your head out of the archway to the bathroom. it was carlos. 
“ready yet, mate?” 
lando shrugged, moving out the way so carlos could make eye contact with you. he said your name with a cheer, brushing past lando to wrap his arms around you. he kissed both your cheeks in greeting, you returned it. lando hummed to himself, wondering what that kind of affection was like from you. guess he’d never know, huh? too intimate, the words rang in his head. 
fuck off. 
“you flew today?” carlos asked you. you nodded. 
“had to celebrate, didn’t i?” you let out a giggle, covering your stained lips when you glanced at lando who was focused elsewhere, his jaw clenching. it had your joy dying in your throat, suddenly feeling like there wasn’t any reason to smile at all. 
“of course!” carlos cheered, slapping lando on the back which had him falling back to earth. “can’t believe he finally did it.” lando’s first ever formula one win was an astronomical achievement. you wish you could’ve been there in person. 
“neither can i…” your voice trailed when you were focused on his freckled face. a constellation, you called it, and could lose yourself in counting them. and lando was looking at you and your beautiful face. he was addicted to you, he learned, and no girl could fuck him like you could. 
carlos glanced between the two of you and raised his brows. “right, then.” he cleared his throat. “let’s get going then, yeah? got the whole grid celebrating you, lando!”
you were quick to put on your heels and grab your clutch. lando waited by the door for you, holding the door open. 
when you brushed by him, he grabbed your arm and twisted you around. he pushed his head close to your chest, which had you flushing. 
“lando!” you scolded beneath your breath. 
“you smell like me,” he raised a brow. 
shit. you thought he wouldn’t notice. “grabbed your cologne on accident. was rushing…replaced it with mine, see?” you raised your wrist for him to smell and he did, nose brushing against your sensitive skin. your veins pumped just beneath a thin layer. you felt him inhale and you had shivers running up your spine. he glanced at you again, dropping your hand. 
“think mine’s better.”
he meant it. you smelling just like him had him on fucking edge. he didn’t understand why it mattered to him to such a high degree. the primal inclination soaring right over his head, but he knew you were his for the night. longer he would wish, but he would take anything he could get from you. 
you only rolled your eyes at him, proceeding to walk down the hall. he caught up with you, hand coming to your lower back to guide you. when you made it to the elevator, he stuck his head into your neck again, breath hot as it fanned against your skin. you leaned into him, but stomped your heeled foot. 
“lando…” 
he grumbled something inaudible. 
“speak, won’t you?” you gripped his chin, pulling him upward. 
“driving me fuckin’ crazy.”
your breath caught in your throat. he was always touchy, but it was never this intense. the way he grumbled against the skin of your throat, the needy vibrations which plucked deeply at the strings of your heart. but there shouldn’t be any of your heart involved.
“you’re just a madman, then.” 
he chuckled. “gonna lock me up?” 
if only, you wanted to say, but held your tongue. 
“papaya does look good on you.” you giggled, hand roaming his chest. but you were right about his madness. he was sickeningly crazy. he should be institutionalized, even, in the comfort of your home. what a hell that would be, wouldn’t it?
the drive to the club was short. it wasn’t very far from the hotel. the inside of his expensive mclaren had you dazzled, though it wasn’t really his, just a rental whilst he was in miami. still, your fingers found the pleasure of finding the leather that boarded the doors, wondering just how much leather you could adorn as decoration. 
lando, on the other hand, was white knuckling the steering wheel the entire time, debating whether or not his hand would find a good home on the skin of your thigh. your dress had been too long for that, though, and he didn’t…fuck, he didn’t even know. he was anxious to be with you this weekend, not hesitating to call you to be the first one to come down to congratulate him.
he had so many other girls. why did he choose you? he didn’t know it himself, wasn’t sure if he was ready to face such intense truths, but his heart led him astray dialing your phone number. he didn’t even hesitate nor want to connect with another girl, just you. 
fucking hell, and you looked heavenly in that dress. he would spend the entire fucking night shifting his pants to hide his stark boner from your eyes. 
rolling up to the club, he gave his keys to the valet and you stepped out, fixing the fabric of your scrunched dress. you made your way over to him, elegant as ever, when the cameras began to flash. the amount of attention frightened you, and your phone fell to the ground. it clattered against the pavement. 
lando reached down smoothly to pick it up for you, his movements lingering for a moment. when he rose, his hand grazed the back of your exposed calf, trailing up your body to rest on the fabric of your lower back, the top of your ass. you wanted to swat his hand away teasingly, but for the night…you’d allow it. the cameras flashed more and more. lando only separated from you to take a few selfies with fans, but that had been it. 
his hand found your back once more, pulling the fabric down that was scrunched at the back. he also did it as an excuse to rest his hand on your ass. guilty!
and you let him. more cameras flashed. he was yours for the evening. so you’d relish in the momentary fame, but would surely be horrified by the comments the next morning. but fuck it, you looked hot in this dress and wouldn’t let these heels go to waste. let them envy you, for you were surely going to envy the next girl on his arm. what? no you weren’t. that thought was fleeting. you were shocked that you imagined of such a scenario. 
inside the club was an ambiance of celebratory cadence. it was lively. the bright lights, cheering on goers. everyone seemed to swarm lando, congratulating him and patting him on the back. he was so happy here. 
you attempted to shimmy out of the limelight to give him the attention he deserved, but he tightened his hold on you, digging his fingertips into your waist. you were surprised, looking at him with confusion, but he didn’t even take his eyes off of one of the mclaren engineers who attended the festivities. 
playing arm candy wasn’t your specialty, but you had the basics down. smile and laugh. straight posture. being fucking perfect. easy stuff, you know? surely sitting in an office chair for your day to day would enthuse a straight spine. surely listening to your old, ratty coworkers jokes would have you rolling with laughter and smiles. surely it was the easiest thing in the world to be perfect for lando norris–
your name was called by a girl at your side. it was alexandra!
you gasped, swinging out of lando’s arms and throwing yourself into her. she caught you, looking absolutely elegant while doing it, and smiled into your hair. 
“thank god you’re here!” you cheered, your hands landing on her shoulders to steady yourself. she looked stunning this evening. but she always did. you envied her for that much. 
“of course!” her french accent was sweet and endearing. her voice was even softer. “none of us would miss it. i’m glad you’re here!” 
alexandra and you had grown a relationship over the past few years you’ve been acquainted with lando. she seemed to always be where you were, and by coincidence, the two of you followed each other on tiktok and realized you had, if not, the same humor. you began messaging each other back and forth, and there you had it– a beautiful friendship between the two of you. being long distance best friends was hard, but it was times like these that you were grateful to see her. 
lando had froze when he felt you slip from his grasp, a horrible feeling of incomprehensible dread washing over him that he couldn’t pinpoint why. he interrupted the conversation he was having to see you with your arms wrapped around alexandra, kissing both of her cheeks. his face flushed, hand tightening on the drink he was given by his mates. 
why not him? 
lando excused himself and clung to your side. you jumped at the feeling of his hand around your waist, eyes snapping up to meet his… irritated ones? you were at a loss as to what could warrant such a look, but you didn’t let it linger when you shifted closer to him, your hips against his thighs. he seemed to relax both his body and face, giving alexandra a smile.
she was amidst congratulating him when charles and carlos approached. rebecca at carlos’ side. 
“is this a party or…?” charles remarked, luring you all to the center of the room to dance. lando glanced at you. you could feel his eyes, but you didn’t meet them. not yet. you thought that if you had, you wouldn’t be able to stop tonight. not with how good he looked, not with how he smelled. 
on the dance floor was no better. his hands were all over you. it was a bittersweet homecoming to feel so close to you, so flustered. but you loved the way he made you feel. pure adrenaline. alive. your hips swayed and grinded into his own, him matching your pace with a drink in his hand. there had been one in yours too, but you downed it already. 
at one point when the beat dropped, they all began to shout his name. you included. his cheeky little smile had him muster the courage to down his drink, emptying the large glass. whoops and hollers filled the club, and there were no more words to describe how magical this night was for him. he would remember it forever, and you couldn’t blame him. 
he was magnificent in the spotlight. with a charming tongue, funny jokes, and charisma that had him swooping up any girl he could want. there were a pack of women surrounding him before he pulled you by the arm, interrupting your conversation with alexandra, twirling you to be plastered against his side. the women’s attention didn’t last long after that. 
“cheeky, aren’t you?” you raised your lips to his ears, daring to lay one against the top of his throat. you felt him swallow, his adams apple thick and bobbing. 
“don’t like to be a cornered animal.” you knew it was meant to be a joke, but there was a layer of truth to it that you couldn’t ignore. lando didn’t do well in crowds without flustering with anxiety. to that truth about him, you could toast to. 
you were back on the floor with him in a matter of minutes, engaging in conversation with alexandra and charles. lando was talking to others as well, but he was firm against your back, hand on your stomach. the action had you blushing, unable to forget any time that he’d lay his hands there, asking if you could feel him. and you could. now, you could feel the imprint of his cock behind you. you didn’t know how he could last this long without asking you to fuck him in the bathroom, but you weren’t complaining. 
yet!
steadily as the night progressed, he would be laced with sweat and the smell of him. a mix of body odor, sure, it smelt like lando. your lando for the night. he flashed you a smile as he leaned over your body from behind, both hands gripping your hips against him. 
you returned the gesture, but were much more bashful than he anticipated. you were giving him that look. a look that he had become trained to respond to. his dick instantly hardened. pavlov was onto something, wasn’t he? 
you both had been there for hours. you could only handle so many more amped up bass drops. and you were both plastered enough. it was around four in the morning when you were tumbling out, giggling and laughing at who knows what. 
one of the valet club drivers even drove the both of you back to the hotel. neither of you are in the state to drive. 
in the car, one of your legs was atop his, slotted between his thighs. you could feel his pulsing cock and your mouth watered at the sensation. he was staring at you through dangerously dark eyes, reflecting back your own stare of desire. it was like looking in a mirror for the both of you. ravaging and desperate to have one another’s hands on each other’s bodies. 
lando took liberty and lowered his head to your exposed shoulder, pulling down a thin strap of your dress to your bicep. he kissed the skin tenderly, an action too intimate for your own good, but you were too fucking drunk to deny it. 
“fucking beautiful,” he muttered into your skin, quiet for only your ears to touch. you let your fingers trace up the side of his face lazily, feeling your gaze spinning beneath his tender words. 
“i’m proud of you,” you whispered, brushing a stray curl from his sticky forehead up into the rest of his hairs. “you know that, don’t you?” 
your voice had been tender. delicious to his drunken ears. though he knew he’d remember this sober– he had a feeling. how could he forget that tone of voice, your gentle touch, clearly breaking the bounds of what was too intimate.
he gulped, eyes flaring wide at your declaration. his hand found your thighs then, gripping the soft flesh with depth. 
your fingers traced down to his bottom lip, puckering the flesh, but dropped to the car seat with a laugh. you brushed off his shocked expression, leaning back into the cool leather. but his grip didn’t relent. he kept his eyes on you, too, unable to find something else to fixate on. you were the object of all of his desires. he confirmed it then when he was desperate to hear more of your unsolicited praises from your lips. 
he craved your lips. 
lando’s head dropped to your waist, his face nuzzling into your soft flesh. he kissed through the fabric of your dress, desperate to feel you beneath such a guarding sheath from your skin. you turned your head to look at him from where your gaze latched to the window, your hand rolling down the curve of his neck. 
you kept your hand there for the remainder of the drive, but didn’t look down at him. you knew you’d be face with those desperate, glistening green eyes of his. you’d fall weak beneath the light of his love, and you’d find yourself disappointed when he didn’t want what you did. a relationship, dare you think it just for one second. 
the valet driver dropped the two of you off and was able to manage a cab on his own back to the club. lando tipped him a hundred euros for his time, beginning to sober himself enough to walk in a straight line and speak without slurring his speech. 
you were the same. stretching your legs from the car, hands above your head in a dramatic feline stretch. lando’s eyes were on you the entire time, gaping at your figure. your ass. his lip caught between his teeth, and you caught him ogling. 
your hips began to sway beneath the music of his eyes. you’re unable to resist his humorous allure, crumbling the second the second the corner of his eyes uplifted. a smile followed, his gapped, perfect, teeth shimmering the reflections of the pale moonlight. 
he stretched out his arm for you to join him at his side. you sashayed there, twirling in your heels that ached your feet. but you did it for him. you’d do it all, though the alcohol was driving your thoughts. 
lando swooped you into his grasp, wrapping his arms around your waist and digging his fingertips into your hips. you laughed amicably, his presence both a comfort and a feat of pride. 
you mustered the strength to break his hold, trotting up the steps of the hotel. your heels were loud in the quiet, tender moments of the rising miami sun, and your giggles even more so. lando wasn’t far behind, skipping the steps to catch up with you. 
you’d never seen him hit an elevator button harder. you resisted the urge to laugh, knowing it was an impossible situation to be so loud at dawn. so you bit your fist in your mouth, choking down a sound that lando yearned to hear. 
when the elevator arrived he jumped right in, dragging you along– though it’s not like you hesitated– by your elbow. 
he immediately began trailing kisses down your throat, the column of your neck, your collarbones, shoulders. he left no place untouched by his devout, worshipping lips. he’d often say in the heat of the moment that you were the best thing he’s ever tasted– a man feral for your sweet nectar– but you just thought it to be the post-euphoria sex high. 
the british driver muttered something into your neck which had your eyes flaring wide, uncertain if you heard him correctly. 
you pushed his head back, gripping at the curls near the base of his neck. “what did you say?”
he looked flushed. embarrassed. he choked on his words, shaking his head. he was clearly brushing it off. 
“nothin’.”
he resumed devouring your neck, saliva dripping onto your dress, but his words bubbled. 
the ding of the elevator alerted both of you. he was the one to lead the way to his hotel room, swiftly opening the door with skilled ease, and had you against the wall in minutes. he gripped at the fabric of your dress, tempting to rip it. you hissed with contempt. “don’t,” he looked up at you with heavy eyes and a half toothed smirk, challenging you. “too expensive.” 
you felt him scoff against the skin of your chest. “‘too expensive.’” he mocked. 
but he heeded your words, gentle with how he lowered the straps to your forearms. your head lolled against the wall, eyes glistening with liquidated pleasure. there was nothing better in the world that could feel better than lando norris’ lips against your skin. each press was a blessing, a kiss of life, hungry for the divination you relented this evening. 
“so fucking beautiful,” he breathed when he shimmied you out of the dress, neatly undoing the zipper. you wore nothing under the dress besides panties, which had his eyes gawking at your taut, perked nipples. you shifted forward, desperate for his touch on your suddenly cold body. 
lando didn’t wait. his cock was already painfully hard in his pants, punishing the fabric for being so restrictive. he pulsated, precum already ruining the pair. 
his lips found your nipple, other palm fisting the firm flesh. you let out a sweet moan that was delicious to his starving ears, your hips bucking into his for a relenting yearn for release. he let out the deepest chuckle from his throat, finding such impending amusement for your desire. 
when he was contempt with the titillation of your nipples, he moved to the skin of your belly, biting softly at the skin. enough to leave bruises for his own eyes when he’d see you next. next. there was always a next with you. 
but you had other plans. 
your hands reached for his face, pulling him to meet your eyes. his own blew wide, flickering to your lips, to your eyes. 
“let me,” you whimpered, reaching for the buckle of his pants. he’d stop you, usually intending on getting you off with his lips or tongue before he could even cum. but tonight, he couldn’t resist your lips. you looked up at him with pure heaven written in your iris’. 
he swallowed before nodding his head rapidly, his forehead leaning into yours. “yeah, yeah, please.” 
lando norris wasn’t a man to beg. he didn’t have to do any of that shit for his other girls– they were always eager to please him, fuck him, suck him off– but for you…
your lips found his neck, feeling the thick muscles with your tongue. it was arousing how muscular each part of his body was, thundering with endurance. 
there was a soft mewl in his throat when you slid your hand down the front of his pants, beneath his briefs, over the length of his cock. the sound excited you tenfold– wishing that you could hear it a hundred times over again. it was addicting how he wanted you. 
when your finger grazed his tip, his hips bucked instinctively into you, just how yours had. he cursed under his breath, letting his head fall limp into the crevice of your neck. 
you laughed into his skin, finally falling to your knees to drop his pants and briefs. his cock sprung free, red and vibrating for your touch. your touch. you often wondered how his other girls treated him. if you were better, if you were the worst. obviously not the worst if he was the one to call you after his first win, right?
one hand stroked his length, traveling to his balls, simultaneously glancing up at him. he was staring down at you, riddled with urgency, a pleading look reflecting in your eyes. his bottom lip caught between his teeth when his hand found the back of your head, stroking the sides of your face. 
his thumb caressed your bottom lip. it caused your lips to open for him, and his thumb found your tongue. you swirled it around the pad of his finger, never breaking the shared look between you two. you let him go with a pop, and he found his hand at the base of your neck again, hand wrapping a makeshift ponytail with his hand. 
your lips swirled around the head of his cock, swallowing the precum that dampened his briefs. he held back a rumble in his throat which annoyed you, so you took him wide in your mouth, bottoming him out in the back of your throat. 
your cunt clenched around nothing when his whole body sang in praise of your lips. he faltered when you began a steady pace of back and forth, stimulating his balls with your other hand. curses fell from his lips, sinful words, and he gripped your hair tightly. with his other one, he fell forward against the wall, bracing for dear life.
but you didn’t relent. faster and faster you went, and you were awarded by his hips snapping into you, cock gagging your windpipe. you choked, tears forming in your eyes, but it was divine how satisfying it was. to see his eyes rolling back into his head, hands shaking, desperate to feel you up. from this position, below him, you could see the entire world. you had it all on the tip of your tongue. 
“fuck, baby…” he groaned. you felt so good around him. warm and tight. it felt like fucking home for him. somewhere he’d always come back to. and he would. no other girl could make him feel this way, had him about to cum in a matter of three minutes. your lips were made to take his cock, and he would yell that to hell and back for the entire world to know. 
he felt you moan against his cock, the sound echoing in your throat. he swallowed harshly, drool dripping down the side of his chin at the sight of you alone. you were perfect. 
and when your hand came to run over your nipples, kneading at the skin of your breasts, he felt his abdomen tighten. you found so much pleasure in sucking him off that you felt the need to touch yourself. fuck, he never thought he’d see something so hot in his entire life. 
he knew he’d been done for in a matter of seconds. with a firm grip of your hair, he pulled you back from his cock. you looked offended, disappointed when the drool from your lips trailed down your chin. 
“not yet,” he uttered, gripping the side of your face with his other hand. his cock was angry, furious at the lack of attention. he was practically fucking edging himself. “wanna cum inside you.” 
say less, you wished to say, but all that came out from your lips was a whine. 
and then you were laid out on your back on his bed. the white sheets were clean and made, cold beneath your scorching skin. 
lando traced two fingers up your thigh, the junction of your hips, your waist. you shivered, toes clenching at the sensation. then to your naval, your pussy, your dampened underwear. a ruined pair, no doubt. he smirked, lip curling. 
“all for me, huh?” 
you nodded instantly. 
his hand slapped against your flushed pussy. you whimpered, grasping at the sheets. 
“words, pretty girl.”
“yes!” you gasped when you felt him tug the underwear down your legs. “you, you, you, lando. all you.”
he practically purred. your folds were swollen and glistening, drenched from how his cock pounded into your mouth. “so wet,” he observed, twisting his fingers to trail up your slit, gathering the slick between his fingers. he raised the pair to his mouth, tasting your sweet juice on his tongue. your legs pulsed together, eager for friction, a quiet mewl leaving your throat at the sight. “tastes like heaven.”
“lando…” you were getting impatient now. rightfully so. he stood there with his hardened cock, teasing you with his firm fingers. 
“what’dya want, baby? hm?” he asked, knowing damn well what the answer would be. yet he’d trace his hands gently up the sides of your body, fingers dancing over your nipples. you writhed. 
“you.” you said endearingly. “fuck me, lan, please.” 
he was so impressed with your manners that he couldn’t resist slipping his cock inside of you. atop of you he caged you in, a blessed enclosure, lips pressing to your exposed chest. you whined at the initial stretch, always finding yourself so tight around his thick cock. 
“fuck, lando.” you hissed, teeth clenching at his immaculate girth. it was a pleasurable burn, and your arousal only had you clenching around him. he huffed through his nose, hot hair breathing over your skin. 
“i know, baby,” he reassured you with his bittersweet voice. “y’can take me, can’t you? always such a good girl for me.” 
you whined at his words, low moan bellowing in your throat. you squelched with your slick and he could feel it. he smirked, having the gall to chuckle, even. but you didn’t punish him for it, especially not when he began to move his hips back and forth, a pair of fingers coming to rub against the bundle of nerves placatated at your clit. 
the sensation of feeling him slip in and out of you was impeccable. you could find no other pleasure than his cock nestled inside of you, filling you to the absolute hilt of your dreams. the imprint of his dick had him riled with lust when it ran over your lower belly. 
“feel me here,” his hand came to grab yours, bringing it to the imprint of his cock inside of you. “don’t you?” 
you nodded, lip catching between your teeth and opposite hand threading through his curls as if you were a needle and thread. “so good, lando, please. keep going.” 
and he did. if you asked him to do anything right now, he would’ve. the slapping of skin echoed in the hotel room, filling silence with vulgar sounds from both of your lips. lando was a moaning mess at the pulses of your cunt, intent on sucking him dry from his cum. and he was an expert at navigating your clit, pinching and swirling the rough pads of his fingers. 
your eyes rolled in the back of his head when you bucked your hips for a better angle. “deeper,” you said, finding a grim satisfaction at the thought of him splitting you open. 
his eyes flashed to yours, bloodshot and red with lust, and shifted so your thighs were over his shoulders. your back arched for him and he was pleased to see your receptiveness. his hips didn’t falter, and neither did his hands. 
this angle had been more than what any gospel could provide. more than any destiny written out for you. fucking him was written in the stars, you knew it for certain, and you blossomed into a glistening constellation before him. for he was the entire universe for you, and you just a mere fractal in the midst of it all. 
but oh, how that wasn’t true. how you were the sun in which he orbited, woke up and thought of. you were the first person that he called after his father, needing your presence with him in miami. he needed this. your cunt. your pleasures, your moans. you, it was on the tip of his tongue, edging its way forward through the kisses he laid upon your neck. 
you were drenched in his saliva, coated in the thick musk of lando norris. he would never say it aloud but he dreamed of the day to see his cum dripping down your thighs, full of him, the remnants of your love affair sticky and haughty with each step that you’d take. 
it was a primal instinct that became so vicious. it overtook him, thwarting him into a dick-measuring contest whenever you went out with him. he’d keep you close. his, the message would be clear. no man would approach you when he had his hand on your lower back, your hips in his hands, your pelvis grinding against his own. you were his own keepsake. the light at the end of the tunnel. a brazen warrior that he’d follow into any battle. 
the only battle he was intending on winning was the war of your heart, blessed be his troops. 
it only took a few more harsh thrusts of his cock and twiddling of his fingers before you were painfully close to a release. he could feel it. he knew it like the back of his hand. your trembling legs, intense writhing against his hold, your breathy moans. he wished he could take a picture of you, flushed and desperate, and keep it in his wallet. 
“come on, baby.” he urged, feeling the own heat of his orgasm rising in his lower stomach. he had been resisting the urge to cum for your sake, always finding a deeper satisfaction in seeing your overstimulated face after the fact. 
“come for me, won’t you? pretty thing. i’ve got you,” the words of praise that were only meant for you. he didn’t call any of his other girls ‘baby’, but you wouldn’t know that. you couldn’t know. it would ruin all of this, wouldn’t it? wouldn’t it? 
i’ve got you, he said tenderly. it’s what had you compulsing, drenching his cock in your slick. your orgasm washed over you like a tidal wave, drowning you in the euphoria of what was lando norris’ pleasure. 
he was staring at your worn out face, his own tongue coming to swipe at his bottom lip. he was ready to feast on you. 
lando’s own orgasm was swift to follow. the rhythm of his hips faltered, sloppily, aggressively. the overstimulation against the walls of your cunt was delectable. 
“come for me,” you begged him. it had his eyes flaring once more, shocked to hear such a request from your pretty lips. “inside me, lan, need it…” 
“fuck…” he groaned, and with one last snap of his hips he was spilling out inside of you. his forehead fell into the crook of your neck, breathing heavily. your chests moved in unison, catching your breaths after such an intense fuck. 
you were sticky against him. his body fell atop of yours, and your hands wrapped around his back. one hand came to run up and down his neck again, which had his eyes fluttering with sleep. but he didn’t let himself, and instead moved to get a towel for you both.
he slipped outside of you, the warmth of your cunt had his expression falling. he saw your face, too, empty once he made his way to the on suite. he grabbed a handheld towel and ran it under the warm water, and crossed the space between the bathroom and the bed. 
lando let it run up your thighs, between your legs. your cunt was swollen still, his cum thick and dripping from your slit. he smirked to himself, cleaning the remnants of himself from the immediate vicinity, but wouldn’t go further. 
you were aware. entirely too aware of how warm you felt. how filled you were. it was filthy how good sex with him was. you could never orgasm with any man but him. 
lando fell to the bed beside you, opening the sheet for you to slip in beside him. you hesitated, never having spent an entire night with him, except for a few drunk evenings. did this count? you weren’t sure. you’d certainly remember that mind blowing orgasm. 
but his eyes were drooping with sleep, weary when you hesitated. you couldn’t resist, and slid in beside him, comforted by the furnace of his body. 
lando’s head found home, once more, in the side of your neck. you brushed the hairs from his sweating forehead, roamed through his scalp. you ran circles through his hair until you heard the soft snores coming from him. it only took a few seconds for him to fall asleep in your arms and for once, you were perfectly content with that. if this was what your life would be, then so be it. 
the british driver woke approximately twenty four hours later. 
when he woke, you were not there. 
he was startled as he searched for you, but there was no sign of you. he sat up in his bed, sun peeking in through the curtains. he rubbed his eyes, hand resting on the spot that you had laid in. there was an imprint from your body. 
when he checked his phone, he knew he was in deep shit. 
“fuck.” it really had been a full day that he slept through.
but there were no texts from you. 
his gut tightened, heart beating loudly in his throat. why are there no texts from you? 
he scanned the room to find a glass of water on the nightstand, previously iced from the ring of water around the side of it. and there was a note, too, with some ibuprofen. he picked it up. 
had a good night
proud of you always
text me when you’re up x
and it was signed by you. 
he folded the piece of paper.
he supposed it was a good night. the best sex he’s ever had, in fact, and wouldn’t forget his own confession in the elevator. he wasn’t sure if you heard it or not, but there was a part of him that wanted you to. 
“you were always my favorite,” he spoke into the column of your neck. 
the next time you saw lando was in monaco. 
you were back home and invited by alexandra to the paddocks for the home race of charles. you accepted, of course, hoping to catch a glimpse of lando. 
you hadn’t texted him much, but neither had he. you heard first from him on that tuesday morning and it had you smiling at the airport, bags in hand. you texted back, and it was sporadic from there on out. it’s been a few days since either of you’ve said a word, and it was beginning to wane on you. 
alexandra repeated your name. 
“yeah?” you responded, head snapping towards her direction. 
“i asked if you were feeling alright.” 
“oh.” you breathed, laughing it off. “of course, do i not seem okay?” alexandra shook her head, petting leo’s little head in her hands. 
“you’ve been quiet, that’s all.” 
and you had been. but since she noticed, you were determined to make her forget about it. 
“nervous for charles,” you lied. but alexandra bought it and agreed with you, shedding her anxieties for her boyfriend’s home race. 
you were standing on the balcony with her in ferrari’s hospitality. you looked elegant today, matching alexandra’s own vibe. your hands were clasped together as you were leaning down, watching the drivers go in and out for their free practice. 
alexandra was still ranting about how nervous she was for charles when you saw him.
the papaya was noticeable from anywhere. 
lando
lando and company. 
a girl trailing behind him. her hair was done neatly, blonde, painfully thin. you grimaced against your will, face scrunching with a bitterness you had never felt before. 
alexandra tapped your elbow before she looked down at what you were staring at. 
“asshole.” she remarked, scoffing. 
you raised a brow. “you think so?”
alexandra nodded as if it was obvious. “don’t know why he brings them around,” she sighed. “not when he could have you.” 
you never felt so flattered before. you blushed, thanking her for saying something so kind. though you denied having feelings for him. she knew it was a lie this time. 
lando glanced up at the balcony, finding your eyes inevitably. he could feel your stare at the back of his head. 
and he fucking waved. 
the girl beside him looked up, too, but she did not. 
you could see lando’s smile from up here, but in your intensive bitterness, you did not wave back. you stood and turned to go back into ferrari’s hospitality, not thinking twice about your decision. 
the rest of the weekend you spent in bitter earnest. you’ve never seen yourself in such a state. but you plastered on a smile for alexandra and charles, entirely too elated when he crossed the finish line first in monaco. you held her as she weeped with joy. 
and, of course, you were invited to the festivities for the evening. your attitude was soured by the girl latched to lando’s arm throughout the entire weekend. but he looked so nonchalant with her, careless. none of it mattered. you’d put on your best dress for the evening. 
in the club you were found nursing a martini in your hand, not quaint on the taste, but were keen on getting wasted. you didn’t want to deal with whatever shit storm of emotions were brewing inside of your head. seeing lando with another girl was not new for you to witness. it was the norm, in fact, and you never thought about it otherwise.
but something changed that night of his win in miami. you knew it. he knew it. the words he uttered into your neck in that elevator was sending you up the wall and skyrocketing into the abyss of the universe. and you believe that somehow, he would find you.
he would find you. 
lando saw you instantly when you entered with alexandra and charles. rebecca and carlos paired together, too, leaving you the odd one out with no arm candy on display. good, the thought was impulsive. 
the girl beside him was giggling at something he said. but it wasn’t meant as a joke. he was convinced that she just had no idea what he was talking about, and was eager for a good fuck from him. he knew his skills of pleasure were not in comparison to any low life dude, but no girl could fulfill the void of receptiveness. of yearning desire. 
so when he tilted his head back to down the rest of his drink, he grimaced at the taste, and turned back to the girl he brought with him. but he kept stealing glances at you in your short dress. it was like you were punishing him– were you? he suddenly felt like a dog, a bad boy, reared and chained to the dog house outside your house of a heart. 
but you didn’t see him. not for a while, actually. you were intent on staying true to your morals– staying away from him this evening. he only brought trouble for you. confusion. you were sick of this back and forth, and most importantly, this rotten feeling of jealousy. it wasn’t a good look on you, or so you thought. 
“dance with me?” alexandra asked you. you accepted, of course, grabbing her hand and holding it high above the crowds as she led you to the dance floor. you were both twirling and laughing with your drinks in hand, purely electric with the rap music. charles joined her, gripping her from behind. you couldn’t help but watch, gulping down the feeling of envy. 
alexandra noticed. she knew what you were going through, even if you wouldn’t say it aloud. your ‘relationship’ with lando has gone on for far too long without any real commitment. everyone knew he was your favorite girl to be around, except you. you were the only one, apparently, who didn’t know that lando looked at you like a goddess reincarnate. 
and when you shook off your thoughts of envy, your eyes found another pair staring back at you.
sharp emeralds, piercing through the musk of the club.
your breath hitched, catching solemnly in your throat. 
the blonde was grinding up against him, throwing her head back against his shoulders. one hand was on her hip, the other with an empty shot glass in his hand. the girl was enjoying herself, at least, and you wondered if he fucked her the same as he did you. 
his eyes didn’t leave yours as his hips swayed in motion with hers. his hair was disheveled, a coat of sweat gleaning on his forehead. 
the pair of you were waiting to see who would break first. who would succumb to the challenge. you wanted so desperately to win, to grab another random man and kiss on his neck, but you were detested. 
the air inside the club felt heavy, and the world would collapse on you. the weight was too much on your shoulders as you became lightheaded. 
“i need air,” you said to alexandra before you fled from the dance floor, leaving your glass on the counter. 
the air of monaco was brisk when it pierced your skin, your thighs, your shoulders. but it was a much needed refreshment from the confines of that fucking club. you felt nauseous, sickened by lando’s eye contact with you. how dare he. 
you looked around before turning the corner of the club, seeing a pair of men smoking a cigarette. 
“care to share?” 
the men glanced at one another and the one holding the pack nodded. he handed you one and you placed it to your lips. he held out the lighter, too, and lit it for you. 
you weren’t one to smoke. it was a drunk cigarette kind of night. 
they insisted on you staying with them, talking each other up to be some pair of scrouges who deserved your attention. you politely declined their advances and walked the other way, feeling colder when the tobacco hit your lungs. 
when you blew out your first puff, it wasn’t long before the cigarette was ripped from your lips. 
“hey–” 
“this shit isn’t good for you.” 
lando.
he found you out here. rather, he chased you out. the minute he saw you turn your back he scrambled, pushing past every person that came in his way.
you scoffed, unable to look at him as you crossed your arms. 
“you don’t know what’s good for me.”
he paused, sucking in a tight breath. his jaw clenched. the cigarette was thrown to the ground, crushed beneath his foot. 
“rude–” you uttered, cut off when he grabbed your elbow. that had you looking at him. and his expression didn’t disappoint.
his eyes were widened, pupils blown wide as he looked into your own. his lip trembled momentarily, jaw entirely too tight for his own good. 
“what’s going on with you?” he wondered, holding eye contact with you. 
“nothing.” you answered instantly, brushing him off. but he didn’t accept that. 
“‘nothing,’” he mocked. “you’re not a very good liar.” 
you hummed. “thanks.” 
the conversation widdled down, but he wasn’t about to give up. 
“tell me,” he requested, his face pulling closer to yours. you had to give it to him. he was determined. but you were too.
“there’s nothing to tell.” you bit back. 
“i care about you. come on–” your name fell sweetly from his lips. he was prepared to grovel at any second now. 
but you cut him off. “ohhh…! yeah, right, you care? pfft, no need to pretend, lando.” 
he pulled back, shocked that you got in his face. your words were cruel, but he felt the double meaning behind them. 
“what?” he asked, softly. you knew then that he was hurt. 
but jealousy was a monster.
“i wish i was as stupid as you think i am.” you rambled, hands thrown up with emotion. but you were done with this conversation. “fuck it, i’m leaving–”
but he used his other hand to ground you before him. “don’t.” he pleaded. eyes watering. 
“what? like you’d notice?” 
then the bells chimed in his head. an alert that he understood what this was. he was stupid in not knowing what was happening before him. 
you’re jealous. 
“didn’t take you for a jealous type.”
you scoffed. “you’re ridiculous.”
but he shook his head and tsked. “can’t believe it, baby, that you hid it for so long.” 
“fuck you.”
he blew out a huff of air as if he were wounded, hand coming to run over his chest. it was a fatal one, that was for sure. you tried again to push past him, but to no avail nor universe would he let you go. 
“come home with me.”
his words were determined, sincere, though there was a layer of softness to it. like unsweetened honey that poured from his lips. 
you stared at him. “what?” 
he laughed. “you heard me. let me take you home.”
you couldn’t tell if he was being serious. couldn’t tell if he was mocking you. your facial expression dropped from its intense anger. 
“don’t…” you started, feeling the heat of emotions that you’ve been burying come to the surface. your eyes swelled with tears but fuck, you promised you’d never cry over him. “don’t be mean, lando.”
his smile dropped. he knew then that you weren’t playing around, messing with him in the ways you usually had. what was this feeling inside of him? guilt? he wanted nothing more than to fix whatever he’s done. the instinct blazed a fire through his veins, igniting a deep rooted reaction that he feared only you could bring out of him. 
his hand came to cup your cheek. you flinched backward, staring at the palm of his hand through your wet lashes, but allowed his touch. 
“come here…” his hand dropped from your cheek to hold out for you to melt into. an invitation for a hug. 
you hesitated, shifting closer on your tip toes. when you were in close enough reach, he grabbed you, earning a yelp. 
his body was warm. he pulled you flush against his chest, his head coming to rest on your shoulder. his hands were wrapped firmly around your torso. was he shaking? 
he was. lando was wrought with a surplus of emotion when he saw your anger diffuse. he loved to feel all of your emotions, it reminded him that you cared about him. but when he saw it disappear, faze into an abyss of melancholy, his heart set into overdrive. he never got such a rush of adrenaline before. not from racing. not from anything else in his life.
you relaxed into him, shutting your eyes. there was a wet stain from the single tears that fell from your face on his shirt. 
but you didn’t care. he smelled so good. it was lando. your lando. 
“let me take you home.”
your nose buried into his shirt. his stubble dug into your neck. 
“your place,” you muttered. “i want to go to yours.” 
his place was always for special occasions. but to your unbeknownst knowledge, you were the only girl he’s ever taken there. the only woman he’s fucked in his bed. 
he stuttered. “yeah,” he cleared his throat. “yeah, of course we can.”
you didn’t even end up texting alexandra goodbye. you were too wrung tight with your jealousy, coined poignantly by lando himself. he was quick to catch on to your attitude shift, but you could tell he was frightened. at least you wished for it to be. 
but he was. his heart plummeted when your anger reached him. it did more than touch him, it ripped him apart, had his heart bleeding in plain sight. anyone could see it except you. it was never you who saw the love beneath his eyes. 
lando’s apartment was just how you remembered it to be. 
open space, loosely decorated. it was rather bland. 
“you kept it!” you ran your fingers over the displayed teddy bear, one that you had won for him at a fair. 
he shut the door behind you two, locking it. he let out a soft hum. “‘course i did.” 
he said it like it was obvious. he would never get rid of anything that you’d give him. you squeezed the teddy bear in your palms, but dropped it when you felt lando’s arms wrap around your waist from behind. 
his lips found your neck in an instant. 
“i missed you.” 
you tensed. back arching, you turned your head to look at him, angled perpendicular to his face burrowed into the junction of your neck and collarbones. 
“really, now?” 
he chuckled against your skin, fanning his warm breath through your body. the hairs on the back of your neck rose instinctively, choosing to hold your breath instead of express anger. though you couldn’t help the huff through your nose. 
“you’re so vicious when you’re jealous, darling.” he thought this was funny. it angered you even more, attempting to writhe out of his hold. but he didn’t relent, keeping you taught against his chest. asshole. 
“am not.” 
he tsked. 
“sure.” he continued his trail of kisses down your neck. you fell into him, head lolling back and eyes rolling. fuck, his lips were always so good. he was so good to you. 
“am not.” you said again, biting back a moan when his hands came to your forefront, parting your legs for his hands to rest between your thighs. 
“whatever you say.” 
your hips grinded against his own in retaliation which had him humming in soft praises. his fingers trailed the lining of your panties, other hand holding your hip firmly . 
“because i’m not–” the moan that was pulled from your throat was pure divinity to lando’s ears. his fingers had run up your slit, teasing your entrance. blood ran down to your body, fueling your cunt to a puffy state. your weight went lax against his hold, which he was perfectly capable of supporting you. 
“not what?” he dared you to continue, not when he had you numb in his hold already. he was clearly cocky. you could hear the smirk in his voice. 
“i’m not–” you were determined. but lando was coming back in full force. his middle finger teased you, pushing between your slick, finding the warmth of your walls. you sucked in a tight breath, feeling just how wet you’ve become. 
“so wet, baby,” he said into your ear. “what were you saying?” 
“fuck–” you sighed, whining. “i’m not jeal–” 
and then he seized the bundle of nerves around your clit, curling his middle finger inside of you. you cursed, sweat beginning to bead around your forehead. 
“mhm.” lando proved himself right when you couldn’t mutter out a sentence, becoming dumb on his fingers alone. he began a steady pace with just a singular digit, flexing in and out of you supported by your natural lubrication.  
“more–” you pleaded. it had him standing up straight, reacting to your soft pleas like he was a dog to a treat. pavlov, and all that shit. he found himself staring down at the sight of your two– his finger etching in and out of you, drenched in your sweet nectar. if he was no better than a dog, why was he about to drool? 
“yeah? you can take another?” you were rapidly nodding against the back of his shoulder, biting your lip.
“yes, please. please, lando.” you mewled, gripping at his forearms that caged you in. you never wanted to be chained down, but for pleasure like this, you felt as though you could make an exception. 
he obeyed. adding a second finger was close enough to your release, and you knew that was barreling forward at any minute. if he kept this assault of your clit up and the delicious curl of his fingers, you would melt into a puddle. 
and you knew he would. if lando started something, he would finish it. the only priority for him was to make sure you reached an orgasm. that was a promise, forever and always. 
he found himself bucking his hips into you, the sight of you weak in his arms becoming too much for him to handle. the friction between his pants and your hot cunt was too irresistible. what can he say? you were just pure bottled heaven. 
his thumb had been applying more intense pressure to your clit. your face was entirely flushed now, brightened from his attention. he was entirely to carnal to hear the noises you made. noises for him to hear, no one else. 
but his pace was slow. teasing. you felt like this was a punishment. your lip curled, face contorting with both pleasure and angst. “please, please.” you whimpered. 
“what, baby? what do you want?” smug. always so smug. 
you gripped his hand that was flexing inside of you, tightening your grip. he chuckled deeply. 
“wanna come? that what you want?” 
your head bobbed up and down, breaths coming in fast pants. “need.” you corrected him, and he thought that he would fall dead at your feet. his jaw clenched, muscles in his arms flexing, and he would give you want you needed. 
you needed him. 
that was all that he needed to hear from you. 
you turned your head to look up at him with your bloodshot eyes, dreary with lust. lust for him. your lashes fluttered against your brow line, lip quivering with a singular wish. 
he wanted nothing more to kiss you. 
“fuck.” he groaned, your thighs were drenched in your slick, a sight he thought could never be hotter. and when he curled his two fingers sweetly, your hips bucked aggressively. he knew exactly how to navigate your body, but it was always so thrilling to see you react in such a way. 
“yeah?” he smirked, “that good?” 
“so good, lan,” the nickname you used for him was not intentional. it had his dick throbbing in his pants. fuck.
your words of praise would only have him working harder. he didn’t even need to add a third finger when your stomach snapped with tension, coming loose all over his fingers. your vision blurred, legs shaking rapidly. you cried out, head lolled against his shoulder. he held you tightly, and you didn’t miss how he stroked your hip with his thumb. a soothing action. 
how he could ever find this kind of pleasure in another woman, he didn’t know. but the challenge begged– could he ever admit that? 
his fingers remained buried in your cunt whilst you rode yourself free from your high. it was impossible to look anywhere else but you. 
and when he removed them, showing you the mess you made, his popped them into his mouth. it was such a vulgar statement, but you found yourself blushing. he sucked on his fingers, letting them out with a pop, clean as a whistle. 
“heavenly.” he reaffirmed. “no girl compares.” 
you froze, still delirious from your orgasm, but it had you spinning in his hold. he was slightly blurred in your vision, but you could make out his faintly cocky expression. 
“really, huh?” 
your attitude would have him rising, cocky attitude falling away instantly. 
he gulped. “guess so.” was this it? 
a smile grew on your face. your hands wrapped around the back of his neck, grooming through the back of his head. he smiled lazily, lip catching between his top teeth. 
but things like this didn’t last forever, did they?
there was a pounding knock at the door. it had you frightened, shifting your panties back into their rightful place. your fingers fixed your appearance the best you could, whilst lando adjusted his dick in his pants. 
“open the fucking door, lando!” 
it was a woman’s voice. 
your brow raised. 
“i know you’re in there with that bitch,” the woman seethed. you could feel her anger through the door– but you could feel your own flying through the roof. bitch? you didn’t fucking think so. 
you pushed past lando who was about to open the door and he called your name, attempting to stop you. 
the door flew open. “bitch?”
the blonde girl stood there. she clearly didn’t expect you to open the door. but she didn’t back down; fine. 
“yeah. bitch.” you straighten your posture. “he told me not to worry about you–” what? “and here you are, fucking him.” 
not quite, you wanted to correct her. 
“fuck off,” he said the girl’s name. “me and you aren’t a couple.” but she rolled her eyes anyway. 
“you promised me a good fuck, lando,” she had such a venom to her bite. it had you bristle. “i didn’t think you’d stoop so low.” 
“hey, now, don’t be–” lando started, but you were done. you had enough of this night. you turned back into his apartment and grabbed your handbag, your phone, and threw on your heels. you didn’t hesitate brushing past the pair. 
lando called your name. 
but you only turned your head over your shoulder. your gaze read an entire sentence that he felt up his entire body. 
two can play this game. 
1K notes · View notes
incogrio · 1 day
Note
since usa tour is over… beomgyu coming home to you from being away on tour? 🫣 mega fluff plz 🫶
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c.bg - finally home to you
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pairing: choi beomgyu x gn!reader
genre: fluff fluff
synopsis: beomgyu finally comes back from months away at tour <3
warnings: none, except beomgyu and reader being disgustingly cute
w/c: 1.1k+
a/n: thank you both for these asks!! i decided to put them into one since they’re pretty similar and i honestly couldn’t come up with two separate scenarios for my boy gyu. hope you guys enjoy!! soon i’ll have written for every member!!
COMMENTS AND FEEDBACK GREATLY APPRECIATED!!
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the kimchi jigae soup in front of you popped slightly at the heat as you stirred it with a wooden spoon. you had just finished making gyu’s favorite dish of yours. he was coming back after months working hard at concert after concert. much like the many moas who couldn’t attend txt’s newest tour, you lived off of the many clips and performance videos. your boy shined while your heart slowly shrunk in his absence.
but today, today he would be back in your arms. back smiling and back to making fun of you lovingly. all you could think about was his smile, his body and lips pressed against yours.
but you shouldn’t get ahead of yourself, he was probably jet lagged and would want to sleep soon after eating. soon, you don’t have a time limit on your love. you had just finished plating both of your meals when you heard a key meticulously being inserted into the lock.
then, it was tilted and removed. finally, you heard a hand wrap around the doorknob, and finally, you saw him. you couldn’t have moved faster if you were running for your life.
within seconds, you were in his arms once more. gyu buried his head into the crook of your neck, wrapping his arms around your middle whilst yours wrapping around his neck. he leaned forward and waddled into the house with you, making no move to let you go as he kicked the door shut.
despite your best efforts, you had started crying. “oh bear..” you muttered, voice warbling as you moved your hand to cradle the back of his head. as soon as you spoke, he dug his head deeper into your neck, whining in tiny. you could feel tears hitting your shirt. he was crying too.
you don’t know how long you both stood at the entryway. gyu took to swaying you both back and forth, soft cries turning into sniffles.
you tried to pull away, to which he whined and pulled you ever closer once more.
you chuckled, “i made you soup, bear,” you say so softly that if your souls weren’t so near, he wouldn’t have heard you.
beomgyu smiled, and nodded. he pulled away from you and simply gazed at you. he reached his pinkie to remove his bangs from his eyes.
“come, it’s your favorite.” you drag your hands down from his neck, to his shoulders and finally land into his hands. they hold onto you tightly. “might be a little cold now.” you turn around slowly, dragging him behind you by his hand. as you neared the table, he gasped dramatically at the soup as though he wasn’t the one who chose it. you giggle to yourself.
“yahhh!!!” he practically yells, settling into the seat across from you and breathing in harshly through his teeth.
he picks up his spoon, but when he looks up at you sitting across from him, he pauses.
“what… are you doing?” he says slowly, as though this is the worst betrayal of his life. you tilt your head in confusion, letting out a questioning hum.
he scoffs, rolling his eyes and reaching towards your plate and bowl. he grabs them both carefully, moving them to be in front of him. he takes your spoon and places it next to the bowl, and looks at you expectantly.
you get the message, and get up slowly with a little smile on your face. he backs his seat up as you approach, looking up at you as though this is the first time he’d ever seen you. you settle into his lap, and he takes his spoon, scoops up some soup and blows on it before lifting it to your lips. you stick your tongue out, making sure it’s not steaming before taking it in your mouth. you hum in approval. you repeat what he did, with your own spoon and bowl.
this time, however, he insists you pretend the spoon is a plane.
you sigh, making faux plane noises and swerving the spoon around in the air before finally making it to his mouth. beomgyu swallows it and his eyes widen. just when you’re about to ask if he likes it, he reaches forward to your cheek and softly grazes his thumb against the apple of it. this was the side of beomgyu that you loved. the soft side, with his loudness sprinkled through out. this was a side that only you and his members saw.
he kept his smile as he looked down at your lips and then to your eyes. he slowly pulls you closer, before slotting your lips together. you both let out sighs, your very beings melding together into one. his lips are exceptionally warm from the soup, and taste vaguely of gum and kimchi. you drop the spoon onto the table and cup his cheek. he reaches down to pinch your thigh, signaling you to face him completely.
you refuse and pull away reluctantly, “you need to eat, bear.” you say as you reach down and hold his bowl in front of you. he sighs dramatically and rolls his eyes, but takes your spoonfuls diligently. every few bites he presses a plush kiss onto your cheek, and you reciprocate happily. soon, you are both feeding each other lovingly. you hate to imagine the teasing beomgyu would face if his members caught him being so lovey with you.
after you had finished your meal, you simply sat with him for a while. he held you close to him, and you played with the short sleeve of his shirt as you asked him about the tour. he responded with whispers, pressing kisses to your hair between every sentence, rubbing his hand up and down your arm.
you look up slightly, pressing a kiss to his neck before sitting up and stretching. he whines as you separate yourself from him.
“i’llllll wash the dishes laterrrr,” he drags out, “stay with meeee..” your bear whines, pouting at you and giving you his best puppy eyes.
“oorrrrrrrr…” you respond in playful mocking, “you could help me wash them now… and then we can sleep.”
his shoulders slumped as he realized your idea was better. he didn’t respond, simply getting up with you and following you to the sink.
even as you washed the dishes, his arms stayed wrapped around you from behind.
“never leaving you for so long again,” he muttered into your neck over and over. “love you too much..”
you smiled, turning your head to press a soft kiss onto his lips and returning the sentiment.
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xzhdjsj · 3 days
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Beneath the Surface
Zaros x Siren Reader
Taking a dip with Zaros.
warnings: a pinch of suggestive content cuz yk sirens and all dat
I spent my weekend by a lake and being in the water DID NOT HELP THE PIRATE HYPERFIXATION. But I wanna spend more time on that so I'll leave it for later, and instead there's this! I hope you enjoy!😽💕
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A sigh heaved from Zaros’ lungs, laden with the weight of his emotions, as he walked along the stone pathway with his arms folded behind him, kicking an innocent rock along the way. His mind swirled with a mix of frustration, a storm teetering on the edge of anger and resentment. Yet, how could he possibly hate you? Your mask may fool nobles and commoners alike, but beneath it, only he recognised the person you are- the person he fell in love with many years ago. The lingering possibility that he never actually fell out of that love burdened his heart and weighed heavily on his mind.
“Damn it!” he shouted into the darkness, voice echoing with the waves. With one final, forceful kick, he sent the abused stone sailing off the edge of the wooden dock and into the open sea. “Why must this be so difficult?”
His eyes followed the paths of the pebble, instantly regretting his decision to discard his lone companion for the night. Another exasperated sigh escaped his lips as he settled down onto the wooden structure bordering the land and sea. He slowly removed his footwear, placing them safely away from the edge, then let his legs hang from the dock, dipping his toes into the chilly water.
The gentle waves against his skin did little to sooth his troubled mind, far less than he'd expected. The pent-up frustration simmered under the surface, bubbling in his chest like a pot of boiling water. He inched closer to the edge, sinking his feet into the waves and tilting his head back until he was eye to eye with the moon.
“I don’t suppose you can offer any guidance,” he started, only to be met with silence. Zaros lets out a bitter laugh that carried with the wind. “I’m such a fool, aren’t I? So bewildered by my own emotions, that I opt to speak to you, a solitary body hanging in the night sky. Though, I suppose we have much in common, do we not?”
The moon offered no response, but its silence presence, a sentinel over the darkened lands. He lowered his head, moving his feet back and forth, toying with the currents.
Zaros sat at the edge of the dock, his gaze fixed on the way the waves crashed into his feet, then he heard it, a haunting melody carried in the night breeze. A voice, distant yet alluring, calling out his name in a soft, enchanting tone.
“Sarl Zaros…” the mysterious voice called, sending a shiver down his spine.
Startled, Zaros scanned the darkness around, searching for the source of the ethereal sound. The gentle cashes of the waves against the wooden deck, accompanied the voice once more as they called out to him.
“Zaros…” they sang.
“Who’s there?” he finally responded, curiosity evident in his voice.
This time there was no response, only the wispy howls of the wind and the waves below him. Zaros twisted his body, peering over his shoulders to find whoever decided it was a clever idea to prank him.
“Over here, silly.” The mystery voice appeared again, only this time right in front of him and his body swiftly spun around to find its owner.
From the depths of the sea, he saw them- a pair of luminous eyes, glowing like jewels under the moonlight. The glimmering stars on the water’s surface flicker and danced around the eyes observing him from a distance, but the shiny reflections could never rival their beauty.
His breath caught in his throat, and he quickly pulled his feet from the water, staggering backwards onto the dock.
“Who are you?” He shouted.
“Calm down,” you murmured, gliding through the water with ease as you approached him. “It’s just me.”
His eyes widen and his brows furrowed in confusion as the mysterious person revealed their face. “Earis?”
“My apologies, did I scare you?” You smiled.
Zaros hesitate to get closer, eyeing you in confusion. “What are you doing out here at this hour?” he questioned, refusing to acknowledge your question.
You laughed at his stubbornness, settling with the belief that no answer is just as good as an admission. “I could ask you the same question, Sarl Zaros.”
He grumbled uncomfortably, settling into a lotus position. “Then, why are you in the water?”
“It helps to ease my stress.” You admitted, giving him a content smile as you leaned back letting your hair flow with the currents, spreading out and framing you face like liquid silk. “Why don’t you join me?”
“Pardon me?” he shook his head.
“I said join me, you fool.” The hair clung to the skin of your shoulder as you reached out to him. “I don’t bite, unless of course, you want me to.”
“You’re oddly friendly tonight,” he narrowed his eyes, smirking at your proposal.
“I told you, the waves wash away all my worries.” Your body spun, hands elegantly moving just below the surface, “Now, come, join me.”
“Fine,” he accepted, rising to his feet.
You watched as he pulled his robe off his shoulders, then his shirt over his head. Your eyes were glued to his arms and the thin white vest covering his chest. His fingers worked on his pants, gripping the waistband but not pulling it down.
He looked up at you, “Enjoying watching me undress?”
You rolled your eyes, more annoyed at the grin plastered across his face than getting caught staring at his body. “Hurry up and get in.” You averted your gaze, turning to face away from him, and you heard him laugh behind you.
The disturbance of the gentle undulation of the waves around your body caught your attention, even with your eyes closed you could sense the subtle shift of the currents, informing you that Zaros was close. You turned around, face to face with the man who’s supposedly your ‘rival.’
“Are you satisfied?” he whispered.
 “Very,” you grinned, swimming around his body, “Doesn’t this feel better than just having your feet in the water?”
“I don’t like admitting when you’re right, but I’ll accept it this once.” He smiled, taking your hand and pulling you towards his body. “Are you still enthralled by my body, even though you can’t see it beneath the surface?”
“I think all that I can see right now is enough,” you hummed, inching closer to him.
“Is that so?” His hands trailed up your arm then settled onto your hips, his mischievous fingers moved upwards, then stopped abruptly. “You… you aren’t wearing a shirt?”
“No,” you began, taking his hand into yours and placing it on your chest. “I prefer to swim naked.”
Zaros swallowed hard, eyes swelling with desire as he gazed into yours.
“You’re doing this on purpose aren’t you?” his grip on your waist tightened, moving closer until you’re pressed against him. “Have you realised how much I want you?”
“I think you made it obvious enough.” You giggled.
With one final, desperate gasp of air, and a sudden yank from the finger curled around his ankle, he was pulled under. The water closed around him, holding him in its deadly embrace as he grasped and clawed at the bubbles that escaped his stifled screams. The moonlit surface grew dimmer and dimmer as he succumbed to the suffocating darkness, his consciousness slipping away as he was pulled ever deeper into the abyss.
In your eyes, Zaros sensed a sort of hunger, a craving that beckoned his lips onto yours, something that clouded his mind and made him act heedlessly. You pulled his hair backwards, trailing kisses up his neck.
Zaros felt uneasy, especially when his leg attempted to curl around yours only to be met with a smooth scaly mass moving beneath the surface. As his feet brushed against the tail, your actions stopped. He was jolted to reality when you had plunged into the water. The realisation of his mistake dawned on him, and he scrambled to reach the dock. He stretched his arm to reach up and hold onto the wooden ladder, but the rung slipped from his fingers as he was pulled further out into the deep.
Zaros didn’t realise it, but he had been holding his breath. As his body jolted awake, he sucked in a deep breath, then another and another. He clutched his chest, cold sweat dripping from his forehead onto the blanket.
A dream, it was just a dream.
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feel free to ignore the last part and pretend this wasn't a dream! i too wanna hold him underwater and watch as the bubbles stop floating to the top :P
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redroomreflections · 21 hours
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The Ghost in The Window Chapter 2
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Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader
Summary: As a former child star and one-half of one of Hollywood's most powerful couples, you’re no stranger to the dangers of the spotlight. Life has just begun to settle for you as you navigate motherhood, marriage, and your career. When a fan-turned-stalker gets a bit too close for comfort, everything is turned upside down
Note: Uploading the WIPs too.
W/c: 5.9k
chapter 1
You awoke to the sound of a baby crying and crackling from the baby monitor on your nightstand. You adjusted your position in bed, lying on your side, peeking one eye open to view the screen. For just a few seconds you were hoping that Grace would fall asleep again. Of course, that would be too easy and to no surprise, she’s awake in her crib. You reach out a hand to feel for your phone, finding it under the bundle of blankets, to see it’s only six in the morning. You guess your day would be starting now. It doesn’t take you long to rush to the bathroom to relieve yourself and then make your way to the nursery. You stop at Rose’s bedroom to see her lying peacefully amongst a mountain of stuffed animals in her bed. You close her bedroom door again and leave her to sleep. At least one of you is getting that luxury.
You have Carla on standby when needed but you’d instead do all of this on your own. In the months between work, there’s always something to do. Motherhood was just one of them. It’s your favorite part and though it gets lonely without Natasha here you know she’s never too far away. You step into Grace’s bedroom, tapping the light switch to flood the room, while you grab her from her crib. She’s cuddly this morning as she lies her head on your shoulder.
“First, we get a diaper change, and then Mommy needs her coffee,” You narrate the entire day to Grace. You lie her atop the changing table, one you rarely use, as you quickly get her all cleaned up. “I know that was uncomfortable. I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner.” Her whining dies down to slight sniffles as she looks up at you. She’s enamored by you and your speaking voice. She grabs onto one of the pacifiers lying near her head to press it into her mouth.
Once that’s settled you head down to the first floor where you find Mocha waiting at the kitchen doors to be let out. You unlock the french doors with one and open it wide enough for the Mocha to go and relieve himself.
Next, you try to put Grace in her high chair to free up your hands but she’s having none of it. Her cries of protest are heard, so you keep her on your hip as you prepare a coffee. Using a Keurig is an easy enough process, and you use it efficiently. Grace watches you for a little longer before deciding she’s ready for her breakfast. She tugs at the material of your tank top with chubby hands, hoping to free one of your breasts.
“Mommy’s trying to hurry,” You say. While you wait for the coffee to finish, you go onto the patio to place your planner and phone on the table. You’re honestly doing a lot for a relaxing morning at home. When the coffee’s done, you take extra care to keep it out of arm's reach of Grace. You sit in a cozy spot where you can see the view of Los Angeles from your backyard. The sun had only risen an hour ago and was already shining brightly. It’s a peaceful morning if you do say so yourself. You position Grace in your arms, shifting your tank top up, and wait for her to latch on. Her suckling is steady and strong. She’ll be occupied for the next twenty minutes. You crack open your planner, eyeing the next week's dates as you go over your schedule. You have an outfit fitting and a photo shoot tomorrow, a brunch with friends in two days, and a party that you’re throwing in a couple of nights.
It’s an end-of-summer party that you host annually. Friends and family all get together to celebrate various accomplishments and goals they’ve tackled throughout the summer. You’re honestly just ready for the fun to begin. You spend several months of the year working your ass off and you deserve to celebrate. You open up a notes page on your phone to go through the checklist you’ve been keeping for the past week. You’re having the party here at home so the guest list isn’t too big. Your house is big enough to fit about sixty people. Anything more and it would be bursting at the seams. There’s no real theme. However, you’re bound to call it a summer splash party or something. The invitations have been sent and RSVPs are coming back by the buckets. There’s also catering and a personal chef coming to bring food. When you said a small party you might be lying. This thing may turn out to be something more than you imagined it would be. Those usually turned out to be more fun.
You’re finishing up with your checklist just in time to switch Grace to your other breast. She’s content and happy as she fills her tummy. The next few minutes are spent in silence as you sip your coffee. You should think about breakfast. Natasha is coming home today and you wonder if she would enjoy something homemade or a restaurant meal. Rose loves IHOP and you’re sure neither of them would protest going to the family chain.
Speaking of Rose, the princess is awake, and a tad bit grumpy as she opens the patio doors to come and greet you. She curls into your side, her head on your arm, as she grumbles.
“Oh, is someone grumpy today?” You ask and she nods her head. “Tell me what’s on your mind.”
“Mama’s not here yet,” Rose frowns and you know the feeling. Life is always so much better with Natasha there. You brush her coils out of her face, her bonnet must have fallen off sometime in the night, to see her eyes. She pouts up at you and gets a little annoyed when you smile.
“You’re in luck,” You tell her. “We are going to pick Mama up from the airport in about an hour. I was going to go on my own but you’re awake so you can go too.” You offer and Rose smiles.
“Can we get her flowers?”
“I think that’s a great idea,” You say. “We can pick them up on the way there.”
It was settled. You would be getting Natasha flowers, picking her up from the airport, and then hopefully breakfast. In that order.
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There’s only one small teeny tiny detail you forgot when it comes to airport runs to LAX. Don’t do them. It’s a confusing and congested airport with twists and turns you never believe. The traffic is always out of this world and you develop road rage at the mere idea of it. Times like now you forget you’re in a place of privilege where you could have utilized a driver to fetch Natasha. It sounds fancy but it’s useful. Though it’s too late now. You park the car in one of the visiting parking garages. You’re sure the paparazzi are somewhere inside waiting for Natasha or some other celebrity to make an appearance as they’re always conveniently waiting for you there. Despite the various rumors from many different sources, you don’t call the paparazzi on yourself. You think it’s inauthentic and a bit dumb. It’s a complete lack of privacy that you’re not willing to participate in. Especially when the kids are involved. Grace has been left at home with Carla while you’ve made an event of your time with Rose. She enjoys being the star of the show anyway.
You help Rose out of the car, holding onto her hand tightly as you grab the bouquet of rainbow roses in the other hand. The walk to the baggage claim isn’t too far. Rose’s little legs struggle to keep up but she doesn’t complain one bit. You receive a text from Natasha letting you know she landed. You send her your love and a reply that you’re here waiting for her. You wait in a corner together where no one will bother you. You push the sunglasses you’re sporting further up your nose as you watch Rose play a game of pretend hopscotch in front of you. She’s wearing matching sunglasses that you think are utterly adorable on her. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see someone trying to sneakily record. When you look in their direction their device is put away. You offer them a small smile though you would like to do anything but. Perks of the job you guess.
“Rosie, look,” You instruct the four-year-old when you catch a glimpse of Natasha further down. Rose’s head shoots up, unable to see from her vantage point, and so she comes to stand next to you again. You point, handing her the roses to take Natasha. Rose’s entire face lights up when she catches sight of her. Natasha waves and smiles widely when she spots you. She opens her arms wide and kneels to catch Rose when she runs to her. They’re wrapped together in a tight embrace for a few more seconds. Natasha takes Rose in her arms, transferring her to her hip so that she can come over and hug you. It feels good to have her in your embrace. She looks good and smells expensive. It’s a funny thought but everything about her makes you happy.
“Hi,” Natasha greets you with a peck to your lips. “How are you?”
“Good. Everything’s fine,” You smile.
“Mama, we got you flowers see,” Rose holds up the bouquet so that it’s directly in Natasha’s view.
“I see,” Natasha takes the flowers. “I love them so much. Thank you for thinking of me.”
“You’re welcome,” Rose looks around. “Can we go get food now? My tummy is rumbling a lot.”
“Well, we can’t have that,” Natasha reaches behind her for her bags. It’s only a few suitcases so you help with the other ones. You walk side by side towards the parking garage. “Hey, Rosie, put your sunglasses down,” Natasha instructs and she does as told. Upon exiting the airport, you’re met with the flashing lights of the paparazzi cameras. Leave it to you to forget to ask for your bodyguard to tag along. Sometimes you conveniently forget that you’re a well-known person and that privacy is a luxury. Natasha holds Rose closer to her as she follows you to the car. Rose goes in first, Natasha helping her with her seat buckles, while you toss the bags into the truck. Overall you’re able to ignore the badgering and borderline inappropriate questions. You climb into the driver’s seat and take extra care to pull out of the parking spot.
“I don’t like those men,” Rose says from the backseat. “They’re always yelling and they are not nice people at all. Right Mama?” She looks for Natasha’s approval.
“That’s right they’re not nice people,” Natasha agrees. “Now do you want to eat at home and get delivery or do you want to go to our favorite restaurant? It’s up to you.”
“IHOP!” Rose cheers. It won’t take you long to get to your destination. If you didn’t count an hour as long. For LA traffic it truly isn’t a long time. You and Natasha have considered moving back to her hometown of Cincinnati. It would be much quieter and way easier to live in. It’s something you’ve thought more about in recent months. No, you’re not ready to give up your career and the perks that come with it. Though you’re always thinking of the girls' safety and happiness too. Rose’s school is here. Her friends, your friends, and your community is here. It would be a big change. A change you’re simply not ready for yet. As much as Natasha wants to leave, you don’t think she’s ready for it yet either.
IHOP is pretty deserted at this time of day. It’s a weekday and everyone would either be working or had something better to do. This was a great opportunity for you to have a family day out. Rose couldn’t contain her excitement as she hops out of the car to hold Natasha’s hand. She practically drags the redhead into the building of the place you frequent. Though there are places with finer dining that is maybe more expensive that you can’t deny her the simplicity that is IHOP.
When you reach the entrance you’re met with a semi-familiar face. You can’t pinpoint it right away but when she introduces herself you understand now.
“Hi, for three,” Natasha requests and she nods. You follow the young girl to a corner of the restaurant where an open booth is. Rose takes the inner area and Natasha slides in after her. You take the other side, crossing your legs, before narrowing your eyes.
“Have we met somewhere before?” You ask and the girl grins from ear to ear.
“We have,” her ponytail bounces whenever she speaks and now you can see that she can barely contain her excitement. It wasn’t something out of the ordinary for you. “I’m Carissa. WildeLover04 on twitter. We’ve met a couple of times now.”
“Oh, wow,” You remember now. Her face has now been engrained in your mind. “You work here?”
“It’s my first week,” She confirms. “I heard the tips over here on this side of town were good. So I applied and got the job on the spot.”
“Mommy, I’m hungry,” Rose reminds you. She taps a picture on the menu to signal she wants pancakes and she’s not willing to wait for a second longer.
“Well, Carissa, congratulations and it’s very nice to meet you,” Natasha adds to the conversation.
“Thank you,” Carissa takes out her pen and pad. She must have forgotten her script because a few seconds later she’s scolding herself. “Right, sorry, silly me. Can I get you guys started with something to drink?”
“I’ll have a coffee, black,” Natasha requests and she looks to Rose for her request.
“Orange juice, please,” Rose chimes in.
“She’s so well-mannered,” Carissa comments as she scribbles down the order. She waits for you to say yours.
“I’ll take a water, thank you,”
“Okay, great, take some time to look over the menu and I’ll make sure to bring those drinks right out to you,” She promises and walks off with a beam.
You wait until she’s out of earshot before turning back to Natasha.
“That girl is like a super fan of mine,” You inform her. Natasha seems interested enough. You give her the entire rundown of everything with Carissa and how big of a following she has.
“Do you find it weird that she works here?” Natasha tilts her head.
“Hmm, no, maybe a little,” You’re not too sure. “It’s not like she would have tried to work here to only see me. I’m sure other public figures come and eat here all the time.”
“She’s a bit awkward but seems harmless,” Natasha shrugs. As long as she remained respectful there should be no problem.
Things are smooth sailing for the rest of breakfast. Rose gets the jr pancake combo that comes with confetti sprinkle-covered pancakes. You get french toast and Natasha gets chicken and waffles. You eat from her plate and she’s all too willing to share. Carissa hovers a little but you just write it off as her being a good waitress. You leave her with a hefty tip and give your goodbyes to the rest of the staff that you’ve come to know. You stop for the bathroom first when you bump into her again. Natasha and Rose head to the car to wait for you. It’s a quick trip and you’re about to wash your hands when she comes in. You give her a polite smile and proceed with your hand washing. She’s on her phone and she’s texting a mile a minute. Suddenly, she looks up at you.
“Hey, um, this may seem weird,” She comes across as shy though you’re beginning to think she’s anything but. “I sent you a bear. I have a friend that works at CAA and I was wondering if you received it. I know you sent a tweet for thanks but I just wanted to make sure Rose liked it.”
“Oh, yeah, I have it. I usually try to keep everything that’s sent to me,” You look at her through the mirror.
“Great, I’m glad,” She looks at her watch. “Thank you for being so nice about everything. I know I’m coming across as creepy. I’m just really happy I got to meet you and everything.”
“No problem,” You say. You think it’s a bit of an awkward conversation to be having in the bathroom. “It’s so nice that you’re so normal. I’ve met a lot of people that don’t keep their cool when meeting me.”
“No, I’m totally chill,” Carissa promises. “I’ve met a lot of celebrities before but you’re my favorite.”
“Thank you,” You take the compliment. “I have to go now but thank you for the kind words.” You slip past her and take the exit. You meet Natasha and Rose in the car. You slide into the driver’s seat again and it’s time to head home.
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When you arrive home, Natasha keeps the girls occupied while you go for a quick nap. You’re still thinking about Carissa and the conversation you had with her when you get to your bedroom. You reach for the bear that’s been tucked in a corner of your bedroom until now. You checked it for cameras or a mic upon receiving it but now you’re a little paranoid. You don’t want to assume that Carissa has ill intentions but you can never be too sure.
“Everything okay?” Natasha asks as she steps into the bedroom. She eyes the bear and you.
“Peachy,” You take the bear, inspecting it for any unusual stitchings or holes, only to find none. Maybe you’re overreacting. This time you stuff it in the back of your closet where it will stay for the near future.
“What’s that about?” Natasha leans against the dresser with her arms folded. She watches as you stuff the bear into the back of the closet where neither of you can see it.
“It’s nothing,” You shake your head. She probably wouldn’t believe you if you said it.
“Okay,” Natasha takes your word for it. On your way out of the bedroom, she reaches a hand out to catch your arm. She tugs you into her, wrapping her arms around your waist, to keep you there. “I haven’t kissed you today.”
“We kissed at the airport?” You remind her and Natasha plays coy. “I’m sure there are dozens of paparazzi pictures and fan edits to show you.”
“I don't know it’s been so long I’m forgetting what it's like,” She shakes her head and you chuckle. You decide to refresh her memory in another way. This time by leading her to the bed where you gently push her down. She sits with a happy expression on her face. She gives your body a once-over, and the wanton look sends chills down your spine. As you lean into her, you move to straddle her lap, directing one of her hands to your bottom. The first kiss is innocent enough. Short and sweet. A reacquaintance if you will. The next kiss is a little more passionate. A little more heated and definitely a lot more tongue. You breathe through your nose as best you can, letting out a little moan when Natasha bites your bottom lip, and you get lost in the kiss.
“My eyes, they’re burning,” Rose interrupts your makeout session. She covers her eyes with both hands and walks blindly over to the both of you. “No hands in naughty places.” She warns the both of you and you laugh at her words.
“That’s right, Rosie,” Natasha agrees. She moves her hand to a more respectable place. Before either of you realize what’s happening, Rose is pushing you from Natasha's lap to sit.
“I forgot I’m not the only woman in your life anymore,” You roll your eyes in fake annoyance.
“Mama, guess what?” Rose says.
“What?” Natasha plays along. “You got a new doll?”
“Nope,” Rose shakes her head.
“You grew another arm?” Natasha uses her strength to flip Rosie around to search for a new arm.
“No, Mama,” Rose giggles. “I got a hideaway in my room. Want to see?”
“I’d love to,” Natasha allows her to slip from her lap before following her.
“C’mon, Mommy, you too,” Rose toddles back to you to pull you to a standing position. You both walk with her down the hall to her bedroom. Rose’s bedroom is every little girl's dream. At least it was the dream bedroom you wanted when you were younger. It’s a soft pink whimsical-themed bedroom with a twin-sized sleigh bed. Her toys are lined up along her window seat rather than in her toy box. Rose’s bed is made up courtesy of Carla and it’s pretty neat. On one side of the bedroom, she has a tent that she plays in more often than not. There’s her dresser, her closet filled with many dresses and tutus, and her new hiding spot.
It’s a crawlspace. Nothing too huge. Not big enough to be considered an extra room. The walls are the same color as the bedroom. You had a contractor and electrician come to install lights and ensure the room was safe for her to be inside. There’s a mini chandelier-type light that Rose picked out herself. A sleeping bag, some of her toys, and a blanket inside. Natasha crawls in first and then you. You both fit comfortably along with Rose.
“This is really nice,” Natasha looks around. There’s a chalkboard wall behind her and it’s already filled with plenty of drawings from Rose. “I think your new space is fit for a princess.”
“Thank you,” Rose shuffles around her toys to sit. “You’re not too big either, Mommy.” Rose gestures to both of you.
“Nope,” You nod.
“I don’t know Rose this is a whole house,” Natasha pokes her. “Can I move in? Are you going to charge me rent?”
“No,” Rose laughs again. “No grown-ups allowed or even boys.”
“No grownups? Mommy and I are grownups? Can we come in,” Natasha tilts her head?
“Y-yeah but not when the door is closed. That means privacy,” Rose sets the record straight. “And no boys because I don’t have a brother. I want one though.”
“You want a brother?” You raise a brow. This is the first you’ve heard of this.
“Yes, I need a brother so he can teach me how to skateboard,” Rose reasons. She crosses her feet at the ankle and tells you all about why brothers would be nice. “But he can’t live here with us. He can live somewhere else and just visit. Like Peter.”
“There it is,” Natasha nudges you. “She only wants a brother to bend to her every will.”
“At least she knows,” You comment.
“Can we have a tea party now?” Rose suggests. She sits up and begins to rearrange her toys again to make room. There was never a dull moment with her.
*******************************************************
The next morning is even more hectic than before. You woke up late, completely Natasha’s fault and if she denied it you’d remind her of her insatiable habits. Next, you forgot to pump so you do it in the car on the way to the photoshoot. Roxy talks to you about a campaign she has coming up where she thinks the entire family could join in. You’re about to decline but it doesn't sound like a bad idea.
“It’s for The Children’s Place,” Roxy gives the details. “It won’t be a huge campaign. They have a family collection coming out. The girls would be featured but it wouldn’t be a huge thing.”
“Hmm, I’ll have to run it by Tasha,” You shift uncomfortably. Though pumping wasn’t painful it wasn’t a walk in the park either. You preferred to breastfeed Grace. “You know Rose will let the fame get to her head the first chance she gets.”
“I love that girl,” Roxy laughs. “Did you do anything fun yesterday?”
“Other than have mindblowing sex with my insanely hot wife?” You offer just to gross her out and her reaction doesn’t disappoint.
“I can’t blame you because I did the same,” Roxy shrugs. "Not with your wife. My wife." Roxy laughs and you join in.
“We went to IHOP for breakfast with Rose. There was an interesting interaction with a fan who works there. Carissa.”
“The one that sent you the bear?” Roxy recalls her name.
“That’s the one,” You nod.
“I’ve been keeping track of her account,” Roxy says. “She’s a total fangirl. It’s disgusting.”
“She didn’t seem like the crazed type the few times I’ve talked with her,” You think it over. “Well, not more than usual. She does seem a tad bit obsessed but…”
“As I said I’ve got my eye on her,” Roxy shakes the phone in her hand. “Isn’t that right, Sonny?” Roxy looks to the front seat where your bodyguard, Sonny, is looking out of the window.
“Absolutely,” He replies stoically. He’s always so serious.
“Anyway, are you coming to the party?” You ask Roxy.
“Are you kidding? I wouldn’t miss a Romanoff-Y/Ll/N party for the world,” She locks her phone.
“It’s a date,” You release yourself from the shackles of the breast pump while managing to keep your modesty. You ensure the containers are closed before stuffing them into the cooler you’re keeping inside the car. Now you’re ready for the photoshoot.
The photoshoot lasts for about five hours. Your schedule is jam-packed for the day with costume fittings, hair and makeup, and the actual shoot itself. You’re beginning to feel fatigued with the entire process but you know you have to push forward. Anything to make the time go by faster. You’re also scheduled for an interview with USWeekly which is the point of this entire thing. You’re seated in a chair, dressed in an extravagant nightgown, with fuzzy pink slippers on your feet, and Darcy by your side to fix your makeup. You pay as much attention as you can to the interviewer Samantha Daily as she shoots off questions.
“Do you ever get used to being a celebrity?” She asks and you pause.
“No, I don’t think you do,” You answer honestly. “At least for me. There are people that exist that live for the fame and lifestyle and I think Natasha handles it all quite well. As for me, while I enjoy it, fame was never something I was chasing. It’s always been about the craft and the entertainment industry as an art. So, no, I’m always kind of surprised when people know me. It makes it harder but having discernment and understanding what celebrity means also helps a lot.”
“I know as a celebrity there are a lot of crazy rumors,” Samantha inquires and you bob your head. “What’s the craziest rumor you’ve heard about yourself?”
“Hmm, I think each decade there’s a new one,” You genuinely try to think which one is the craziest. “When I was a young teen, you know I had a lot of trouble finding myself and navigating the fame, I was never, you know, wild or disrespectful, but I had my moments. Back then there was one rumor that I lost my virginity on a casting couch. Which implies a lot of things that don’t even describe my character or my personality. It just was not factual and also not something I would have ever thought about doing back then or even now as an adult woman. It was a rumor put out by an actress that lost out on the role we both auditioned for. I mean, she’s apologized since then, but it followed me around for a while. Um, when Natasha and I first began dating people would make up different places where they saw us having sex. Which is inappropriate as rumors tend to be. I’ve heard a lot of ridiculous things. A lot of them involve sex. In our early twenties, we were seen as wild sex symbols that everyone wanted to get a taste of. So I could see where it would come from but a lot of it was just hearsay and it’s very hard to steer away from those types of things when it's out there.”
“That is very unfortunate that young women in the industry have to go through that,” Samantha sympathizes.
“It is and I’m glad now we’re having conversations and you know bringing these things to light,” You agree. “You know being in some of these rooms and knowing that that’s what people think of you is disheartening. They’re not paying attention to the work and they only consider you a body to lust after. It’s dehumanizing.”
You and Samantha discuss a little more off the record before you have more questions.
“Now, I want to pivot over to success,” Samantha begins. “What would you say is your biggest accomplishment?”
“Hmm, I figure I can say something cliche like motherhood,” You toy with the idea. You stop speaking when Darcy needs to give you touch-ups. “I think it’s a different kind of success that is only considered great if you see it that way. I love my children. I love being a mom. They’re the best thing that has ever happened to me. I was intentional with motherhood, how I wanted to raise my girls, and how I wanted to be. So the accomplishment for me lies in raising well-rounded and emotionally intelligent humans who have compassion for others and their surroundings. I think that right now they’re so young, I can say that Rose is so polite and so sweet. She’s a joy to have around and she’s helpful. Career-wise, my recent Emmy win was amazing, I got to record an album as a teen. I think every single thing I’ve done has been fulfilling and I wouldn’t say one thing is bigger than the other.”
“That’s a great answer. I love that answer,” Samantha writes your words down in her notebook. The rest of the interview pretty much goes like that. She’s a great interviewer and knows how to get the correct information from you. She isn’t pushy or invasive, and you love her for that. Before you know it your time is up, and the shoot is over. You’ve got some good shots, and you’re sure you’ll be seeing the results in a few months.
For now you could go home and cuddle iwht your babies.
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A brunch is always an event with you’re with your friends. You’re in a fancy restaurant and having adult conversations with the people you love. It’s been months and maybe even a year since you’ve seen some of the beautiful faces. All of you are at different points in your careers and life and it’s exciting being able to catch up. Wanda Maximoff, a punk rock star, and actress has just ordered her first drink of the morning. You’ve been friends with her since childhood when she played your best friend on your breakout tv show Better Days. Monica Rambeau is a college friend and celebrity hairstylist so you see her quite often. Carol Danvers is a celebrity fitness instructor. Maria Hill is currently a top exec at Netflix. Your lives all surround the entertainment industry though it’s often the last thing on your minds when you meet.
Today the topic is sleazy men and dating. Something you can’t quite add to as you’ve been out of the dating game for six years now. You listen and add input whenever someone questions you but overall you’re happy to be there.
“I think Vis is going to pop the question,” Wanda confesses and you all look at her. She traces a ring around the rim of her cup.
“Why don’t you sound happy about that?” You ask. You know Wanda’s moods and you know her like the back of your hand. You thought she would be more enthusiastic about it. All eyes are on her now as you wait for her to answer.
“I don’t know,” Wanda frowns. “I just don’t think we’re at that point yet. I thought dating older men things would be different. We’ve been together for two years now. I haven’t really thought about marriage to him. Which says something right?” She looks to you for answers and you weigh the options. “I have been struggling with it for a while. He has been hinting at it and I just…I can’t for the life of me understand why it doesn’t make me happy. I want a married life. Kids, a family, nice house. I do love him. I do.”
“I think your feelings are valid,” Carol nods. “Have you ever sat down with him and talked through how you’re feeling?” She steals a fry from Monica’s plate.
They all go over various reasons for Wanda’s hesitance. You on the other hand don’t say anything. That is until she asks.
“Y/n, what do you think?” She waits patiently for you to speak. You would rather not in case she’s not ready for your analysis.
“Wanda,” You start off slowly. “I have watched you with Vision for a while. He’s a great man. Lovely producer. I’ve also watched you with several other men in the past.”
“You’re calling me a whore?” Wanda raises a brow.
“In so many words she kind of did,” Maria sips from her cup. The rest of the group laughs.
“No, no, I’m not calling you anything,” You point the finger at Maria. “I am saying I’ve seen you with men and you never seem as happy with them as you could be. There’s always something holding you back. Which could be a fear of commitment on your end or I know you dabbled a bit in college but have you ever considered that you may actually be attracted to women.”
There’s a moment of silence as everyone takes your words into consideration. That is possible.
“I don’t know if it’s a fear of commitment,” Wanda shrugs. “Maybe we can talk a bit more about the second thing at a later date? I don’t think that’s something I can explore like now.”
“I’ll hold you to it,” You promise. “For now think about whether or not you want a life with Vision and how you want that life to go. We’ll be here either way.”
“Amen,” Monica raised her glass. “Now, about this party. Y/n what should I wear?”
“The party is in two days and you don’t have an outfit?” Your mouth drops open. “Monica what are we going to do with you.”
“Buy me an outfit,” Monica quips.
Brunch with friends turned into shopping with friends and you found yourself an outfit that might be better than the one you chose. You spend time with Natasha and the girls and everything is alright at home. Life is good for you.
On the other side of town, a series of tweets by Carissa is put out into the world.
@Wildelover04: Y/n and Natasha are hosting their annual summer party in a few days. I can’t wait to see everything.
@Wildelover04: Just got a new gig for this week. Can you guess what it is?
@Wildlover04: I’ve met y/n again and she was so lovely. Rose and Natasha are adorable too.
*** added is a picture of Natasha and Rose with their backs turned at IHOP.*****
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now that we have been granted the power of democracy (tumblr polls), it is time to settle a debate of ancient origin and dire importance
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[op tag list to my best abilities: @esoanem @cedrwydden-blog @lunamargarita @thatwheezingsoundthetardismakes ]
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suguann · 4 months
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✎. simon will do this, if it makes johnny feel better.
tags. fem!reader, established relationship (simon/reader), threesome, double penetration in one hole, slight size kink, dirty talk [18+ only]
featuring. simon, soap
masterlist
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Simon doesn’t share, but he makes an exception this time after his best friend’s date is a no-show, and he isn’t heartless enough to let Johnny hang out at the pub alone. Anybody will tell you: he can be a real nice guy when he wants to be.
And you don’t mind the extra company or another mouth to feed, that the flowers in the vase you put on the counter were meant for someone else, how Johnny gets flirty after his fourth beer, or— 
“Fuck, love,” Simon grunts into your shoulder when he finally eases his cock into you beside Johnny’s. “I guess you can take it like a champ, after all.”
But you hardly hear him over the sound of your heart pounding in your ears and the creaky mattress below your knees.
Johnny thumbs away your tears while you tremble above him, cupping your face to pull you into a kiss so you have something to focus on other than the feeling of being split down the middle—it takes an extra amount of effort not to clench down when you already feel like you’re about to break in two.
“Look at you,” Johnny mumbles against your lips. “Never thought you’d really let me do this.”
Then he pulls out, slick heat gripping him the whole way, and pushes deeper inside, punching a shaky breath out of you. 
He and Simon are in perfect sync, keeping you full while the other drags his cock out, only to fill you up again. It’s almost embarrassing how wet you are—at how much you like it—a hazy cloud settling over you as they use you for their pleasure.
Because Johnny’s sad, and you have a thing for making people happy.
Simon sucks little possessive marks into your shoulder and across your spine, murmuring filthy praise against your skin that consists of “sweetest and tightest pussy, my perfect little fucktoy” and “so fucking pretty.”
“That’s it.” Johnny’s voice is low and strained, barely heard above the loud squelching between your legs, but he sighs it into your mouth as he slowly comes apart. “Fuck—ah—you feel so good.”
A hand dips between you to press against your belly, where you can feel them, hot and heavy against your walls, making you squeal as a little ball of warmth travels down to your toes and all the way to the tips of your fingers. Simon fists your hair, tugging you away from Johnny so you’re looking up at him upside down. 
“So greedy that you needed two cocks to fill this soft little cunt, huh?”
You whine, unable to form an actual response outside of a few jumbled syllables, but a slap against your ass makes you whisper a shuddered yes.
He tells you to open your mouth before he spits onto your awaiting tongue, some of it hitting your cheek. When you swallow obediently, he smears what doesn’t make it across your lips with the thick pad of his thumb. 
“Don’t forget who you belong to,” he sneers, at odds with the soft way he kisses your cheek and reverently chokes on your name. Neither of you hear Johnny groaning under you as you clench down hard at the possessiveness in his voice—because at the feel of his wedding band pressing against your throat like a brand, how can you forget?
Simon doesn’t share, but this, he’ll do. Just this once because you’re already his, and he wants Johnny to know what it’s like to have a woman like you.
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sttoru · 7 months
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‘i told you once, that only two things will have me; you and death.’
☀︎|tags. gojo satoru x female reader. fluff, angst, comfort. themes of insecurity: trust issues kinda (by reader). reader gets called ‘baby, princess, angel’. self indulgent. proof read? whats that
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“aww, there’s my hardworking girl,” satoru coos whilst his arms move to hold your body captive against his chest in a much needed hug, “and she’s still lookin’ as pretty as ever! my god — c’mere.”
your over-excited lover cups your face in his hands and holds it like that for a second to admire. his thumb slides from your cheekbone to your lips, gently parting them before pressing a deep kiss to your mouth. of course, he doesn’t leave it by that. satoru never does.
“pretty,” a kiss on your right cheek — “beautiful,” a kiss on your left one — “gorgeous,” a kiss on the tip of your nose — “amazing”, a kiss on your forehead — “sweetest,” a kiss on your chin — “lovely”, a kiss on the top of your head;
maybe it was the stress of the previous days that made you tear up. satoru has made it a daily routine: you come home, he welcomes you with open arms, showers you with his unending love and attention until you physically have to pull him away from your body. you sometimes ask yourself what you did to deserve someone so loving.
if satoru had heard you say the latter out loud, he would have kissed your mouth again to shut the thought down instantly. ‘you deserve everything and more’, you silently recall him saying once.
“stop that.” you mutter. the ‘that’ referring to the butterfly kisses and tight hugs he’s giving you. you tried not to seem in the mood for receiving his affection today. the muffled giggles leaving through your gritted teeth tell another story however.
“nu-uh,” satoru lets out a low chuckle, going right back to giving you what you deserve, “it’s like you’re askin’ me to stop breathing, baby. i can’t just not do this.”
satoru lifts you up into his strong arms and brings you over to the kitchen counter, settling you there - somewhere away from all that he had been cooking since the morning. he’s grinning from ear to ear, glancing from the covered plates near the stove and back to you.
you tilt your head curiously as you watch satoru grab one plate and uncover it, revealing the content like it was a big surprise—
“open up f’me, my princess.” your lover hums as he’s already guiding a piece of cake to your lips. your favorite cake which he had oh-so-obviously cooked himself judging by the messy look of it. your gaze lingers on the piece for a second to appreciate the gesture.
when you look back up at satoru, his eyes are already on yours — patiently waiting for you to let him feed you. his blue eyes are sparkling with a sense of pure excitement; one he only has around you. his love for you was almost overwhelming at times like these.
“why?”
the simple, one word question made the white sorcerer stop in his tracks. his head cocks to the side, eyelashes fluttering lightly in confusion, though the handsome smile on his face remains. ‘why’ could mean a lot of things in this context; why do you want to feed me? why do you want me to eat this? why should or even would i?
out of all the possible interpretations, satoru knew the exact one you had meant the moment he saw the tears that welled up at the corners of your eyes; ‘why do you care so much?’
“do i need a reason to?” his voice was smooth and soft. almost way too soft now that he’s realised just how vulnerable you were in front of him. satoru’s smile only widens, however — the sight of his girlfriend being overwhelmed by his affection was one he couldn’t resist.
it’s part of your charm. the charm you don’t know about; the charm that made the gojo satoru fall head over heels for you. your lover shakes his head with a light-hearted laugh, putting the slice of cake back down on the plate so he could hold your hands in his.
“i love you, yeah?” he kisses the back of your hands with utmost care before planting another one on your forehead again. satoru cradles your head against his chest afterwards, making you rest your weary body against his for as long as you needed it; his warmth and comfort, “it’s because i love you. that’s the only reason why, angel.”
you just nod in response — needing a moment of silence to recover, which satoru grants you without it having to be asked verbally. it’s like he knows just what goes on in your little head and is always updated about your changing feelings.
that’s what surprises you most. satoru’s super attentive to every single detail about you. from your unnoticeable habits to the big facts. that is what love truly is. that is how it feels like to have a man love you unconditionally—without any underlying or ulterior motives. without expecting anything back.
“i love you too, ‘toru. forever.” you reply eventually in a hushed whisper. the sorcerer only tightens his grip around your body, hugging you closer to his chest like his personal plushie. he nuzzles his nose into your hair — your scent both relaxing yet addicting.
“yeah,” satoru sighs in content and closes his eyes—allowing them to rest. all his senses are focused on making you feel better. he won’t let go of you until he’s sure you understand that you’re deserving of it all; his loving hugs, kisses, words of affirmation, gifts, comfort, cuddles and support.
“forever and beyond that.”
satoru doesn’t mind reminding you how much he cherishes you. even if he has to remind you every day until the day he succumbs. you’re his number one priority; he’ll even make sure to tell you he loves you with his dying breath when the time comes.
he’ll make sure of it.
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landosjpg · 2 months
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so high school | ln
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the one where you feel like a teenager in love.
lando norris x fem!reader
word count: ~1.0k
warnings: fluff, smut (MDNI, +18), public masturbation, fingering, orgasm denial
note: i’ve been listening to this song on repeat for almost a week now, it’s so catchy and the GTA lyrics made me laugh so i had to write something inspired by it. it’s short but i hope you enjoy :) not proofread
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being in love had never been as easy as it was with lando.
you had been in love before, sure, but your heart beat in a different rhythm whenever he was around.
you both had felt the spark between you the very first time you met. you could swear the sound of his laugh would always be your favorite song and something as simple as the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled made the butterflies in your stomach flutter all around every damn time.
“come on, tell me again!” your voice was high-pitched, it always was when you were with your boyfriend.
you heard lando let out a chuckle at your insistence, his body spread on the couch as you rested your head on his lap. his hand found yours, fingers entwining under the blanket that covered your body and you gave him a little squeeze, encouraging to tell you once more what you were asking.
“alright, alright,” he facetiously rolled his eyes, earning a giggle from your lips. “i thought you were the most beautiful girl i’ve ever seen.”
you had heard his first impression on you about a thousand times before, but it always brought a smile to your face, being reminded of how enamored he was with you since the very first night.
“fuck, i could barely sleep that night because you wouldn’t leave my mind,” and you had felt the exact same thing.
you two had just clicked instantly, your friends surprised at the chemistry of the both of you.
despite of how crowded the club was that evening you met, it had felt like no one was around you. endless conversation and laughs that seemed to never cease lured you away from the presence of everyone else, and when his lips finally met yours hours later you felt your heart exploding. your bodies moulded together as if you were made to each other, smiles and soft giggles breaking the kiss every few seconds.
and wrapped in his arms you felt like you were sixteen again; and admittedly, no one had ever loved you quite like him before.
୨୧
for the almost eight months that you had been together, you and lando had always loved to invite your mutual friends over during the weekend. at the end of the day, they were the reason you two had met in the first place, and there weren’t enough words in the english language to just show how grateful you were.
every few saturdays all of you would reunite in your —his —living room, a few bottles of alcohol and snacks set on the tea table as you played some stupid drinking game. after that, you would just play the first movie that one of you could think of, lights off as everyone settled either on the couch or, most likely, on the floor, a little too tipsy to even bother getting comfortable.
that night it was american pie playing on the big screen as you cuddled into your boyfriend’s embrace under the soft blanket; it was chilly, the cool summer freeze making you need to cover the bare skin of your legs.
you softly sighed as your leaned your back to his chest as his arms circled around you; and then one of his hands was creeping under the blanket, fingers gently brushing the skin of your thighs.
you smiled at the comfort of his warmth, eyes fixed on the screen mindlessly.
but lando had had a little too much to drink that night, so his fingers slowly moved up, up, up, until they found the seam of your shorts. and the innocence of his previous touch was immediately thrown away the second you looked up to his face, eyes furrowed in confusion, just to meet his smirk.
“what are you doing?” you whisper-shouted, your thighs closing together as he tried to get closer to where he knew you wanted him.
and he shushed. that sly grin of his not leaving his lips.
you bit your lower lip and complied, legs slowly giving him access to your core as your eyes went back to the movie. with slow, teasing movements, he managed to push your shorts and your panties to the side, fingers finding the nub of your clit with ease. this was the most patient you had ever seen him, the tip of his digits slowly rubbing circles on you as he pretended to watch that stupid movie, not even looking at you.
your breath got heavier and unsteady as he touched you at a tauntingly pace, inaudible to everyone else thanks to the loud volume of the tv.
but when he slid his fingers down your folds, coating them in your slick before slowly pushing two of them into your hole, you couldn’t help a gasp from escaping your lips.
you felt your face heating up when the sound earned a look from some of your friends, and you tried your best to cover it with a chuckle. that scene better had been funny, you thought.
lando, however, seemed to find your situation hilarious. you looked up at his smile as he kept fucking his fingers into you slowly, and you could tell he was trying his best not to laugh.
as the seconds passed, stifling your sighs was getting harder and harder, your walls already clenching around your boyfriend’s digits. your fingers wrapped around his wrist, warning him that you were close, and that’s when he stopped.
the withdrawal of his fingers almost made you whine, and you shot a glance at him, this time, a disappointed one. he seemed to like how you responded, because his smile widened and he lowered his head to press a gentle kiss to your temple.
“later, baby. i want to hear those pretty sounds you make when you come,” he whispered into your ear before leaning back on the couch again, shamelessly cleaning his fingers on your thigh and leaving you craving his touch even more.
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gyuzgrl · 2 months
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don't be shy //csc//
summary- a variety show sparks feelings between you and your celebrity crush.
wc- 8k
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You're ecstatic. Not even in your wildest dreams did you think you'd be invited to a reality show so early on in your career- especially not one as esteemed as 'one fine day'.
Having debuted only a few months ago, you had minimal expectations to begin with, but the overwhelming response from fans and your sudden rise to fame is still something you've yet to process.
It all happened so fast. Your debut stage was over in a wink and suddenly you were trending on twitter for your otherworldly visuals. Artists and idols you looked up to took to their sns accounts to praise you and your group for your talent and dedication- it was like a dream.
You never wanted to wake up.
That's how you found yourself here- in the middle of Thailand, surrounded by a bunch of loud idiots, sipping on some diet Coke as you hide under an umbrella.
You aren't sure what you expected when you received word that you were being invited to host and take part in the popular reality show- 'one fine day', with SEVENTEEN.
From what you'd heard, they had debuted just before you, and were doing just as well as you were. They seemed nice enough.
A sharp scream rips you from your thoughts, and you look up to see Dokyeom shooting across the sand, waving a pair of shorts in his hand, as a very angry short man chases him, wrapped in nothing but a beach towel.
You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose and slump down against the sand.
This was going to be a long week.
"tired already?" Wonwoo asks, settling down beside you, "the members are... energetic-"
You grin, letting out a breathy laugh.
"yeah that's one way to say it"
"I'll have you know, by the end of the week you'll be a part of all this-"
"uhuh, we'll see" You shoot him a playful glare, only to have your jaw drop when you see something in the horizon.
Wonwoo follows your gaze and chuckles, shaking his head.
"I see you've spotted Sengcheollie Hyung"
"wh-what?"
"that's our leader"
The first day went by in the blink of an eye. You met all the members- except Sengcheol- and spoke to them for a while, getting to know each of them before shooting began.
You'd learnt from your conversations with each of them, that Seungcheol is as responsible, strong and warm, as he is gorgeous. Each one of the members looks up to him. From the youngest to the one's just as old as him, everyone leans on Seungcheol.
Not good.
How dare he be beautiful and dependable?
Your poor heart had already set its sights on him, and you hadn't even met the guy yet.
As you walk back to your hotel with the members and camera crew, you find yourself stealing glances at him every now and then. You tilt your eyes up once more, searching for him amidst the crowd, only to find him staring at you already.
Your eyes widen.
In an instant, you lower your gaze to the floor as you turn your head away. You've been caught.
Seungkwan chatters away next to you, talking about how exciting it is to host with you, but your mind is preoccupied.
Tentatively, you look back in Seungcheol's direction, and your eyes meet his. He shoots you a playful grin, eyes narrowing as you panic under his stare.
The air stills around you, growing heated, and you find yourself unable to look away. A deep blush bubbles up your cheeks, blood rushes to your head-
"...Noona?"
Seungkwan's voice snaps you from your trance, and you tear yourself from Seungcheol's grasp.
"yeah? what's- what's up?"
"you okay? you haven't said a word"
"I'm okay Kwannie, just a little nervous"
He blushes at the nickname, but in your distracted state, you fail to notice- just like how you didn't notice the way Wonwoo worked himself up to come talk to you, how Mingyu couldn't take his eyes off of you, how Chan stuck to your side all through lunch.
You were oblivious to the men around you.
All that mattered was Seungcheol.
Reaching the lounge, you wish everyone good night, and head off towards the elevator. The doors begin to close behind you, before a hand sticks its way through and coaxes them open, revealing none other than the man himself.
You grow still, unable to speak.
He waits as the doors close.
"I don't bite, y'know" he starts, his voice gentle as he leans against the wall opposite you, "did I scare you? I promise I'm not as scary as I look"
You lower your gaze in a futile attempt to hide your burning cheeks, and he sighs.
"I'm Seungcheol- I didn't get a chance to introduce myself, you uh- kept running away"
"y/n," you mumble, glancing up at him, "m'sorry about that"
He offers you a gentle smile, and you feel your heart twist painfully in your chest. The elevator stops on your floor, which coincidentally happens to be the same as his, and you scramble out, desperate to get some air.
In your haste, you lose your balance, and fall backwards, right into Seungcheol's strong arms. One hand supports your lower back, while the other grabs the back of your neck.
It's a simple touch, really. It's a hand Seungcheol extends out of courtesy, but god the electricity it sends rippling across your skin is undeniable. You know you shouldn't feel this way. You know- but it's so hard keeping your cool around him.
Its been a day. Just one. And you've already kissed your composure goodbye. What will a week do to you?
His lips curl up into a mischievous smile and he leans a tiny bit closer,
"think you can get to your room safely? I'd be more than happy to escort-"
"sh-shut up"
You straighten up, ignoring the raging blush on your cheeks, and stomp down the hallway to your room. He grins, trailing behind you to get to his own.
"oh we're neighbors," he muses, disappearing into his room as he calls out, "g'night".
Your heart thuds as you step into your room, back flush against the door, breathing hard.
The feeling of his hands on your body burns holes into your mind, and you find yourself replaying the scene over and over, while you unpack your suitcase, while you order room service, while you undress. You can't help but wonder how his hands would feel on your bare skin, can't control the way your mind wanders to how thick and beefy his arms are.
Thoughts of him plague you all night long, and you're certain the universe has it out for you when you hear him moving things around in his room, grunting with effort to pull heavy suitcases from one place to another.
The walls were thin.
This was going to be a difficult week for you.
The next day doesn't fare any better either, when you're told that everyone needed to assemble at the beach, dressed in swimwear.
You're devastated.
Breakfast gives you no respite when the man in question sits right opposite you, donning a pair of swimming trunks and a fitted black muscle tee.
As you try to focus on your cereal, he begins to speak.
"you slept okay?"
You peek up at him through your lashes and nod, before quickly breaking eye contact. There's a long silence, and you can feel him staring.
"y/n~" Mingyu calls, slinging an arm over your shoulder as he settles right next to you.
"hi hi," you greet, grinning up at him, "ready to hit the waves?"
"oh you bet baby,"
Seungcheol clears his throat, eyes dancing with a dangerous kind of fire, and Mingyu tenses, easing his arm off you. He mutters some lame excuse and disappears, leaving you alone.
With Seungcheol.
"how come you don't talk to me like that?"
"I- I just know the others bette-"
"bullshit," he interrupts, leaning into you, "you met us all yesterday- somehow the others have earned your affections and I haven't. have I lost to them already?"
Your eyes widen. Lost? What did he mean 'lost'?
"n-no it's just that I-"
Your hesitate, unable to formulate the right words. Saying the truth would reveal your feelings, lying would hurt his. How does one proceed in such situations?
"just what?" he urges, "tell me what I'm doing so wrong you can't even look me in the eye-"
The pained furrow of his brows makes your stomach twist. Your blatant avoidance, the way you didn't speak around him, how your eyes never met his for more than a second- he noticed it all.
You stay silent, now looking up at him helplessly. He sighs, leaning back in his chair, and shakes his head.
"I'm sorry, I just- I don't know what I've done wrong"
You're about to say something, about to reassure him and tell him 'no- you're perfect, you've done nothing wrong', when Jeonghan pulls a chair up next to you.
"morning," he mumbles, a slight smirk playing at his lips.
"hey."
"morning."
"nice to see you finally getting along," he glances at the two of you before continuing, "see? I told you there was no need to be nervous about ddaddu-"
Your eyes widen.
"nervous?" Seungcheol looks at Jeonghan and then you.
"no! no, Jeonghan's just being funny- right Jeonghan?"
Both of them share a knowing glance before Jeonghan grins.
"uhuh I was just being silly, you know me ahaha"
You excuse yourself, shovelling the rest of your cereal in your mouth, before shuttling off down the hallway to the safety of your room.
What you fail to notice, however, is the half-amused-half-defeated look on Jeonghan's face. As you speed off, far far away, he turns to Seungcheol.
"there's something going on here, isn't there?"
"dunno what you're talkin' about"
"oh there's definitely something going on here"
Hours later, at the beach, you're cursing the gods. You failed to take into account how swimwear worked a little differently for men.
He was in swimming trunks. Swimming trunks and nothing else.
Heaven help you.
You tried your best to put on a brave face for the cameras, you really did, but god- it wasn't funny how tongue tied you got at the sight of him, how your face would grow so red your makeup artists needed to pat on layer after layer of foundation.
Today's episode was supposedly focused on a game of tag. There would be two chasers, while the rest would have to run and hide, successfully, for two hours.
After a long game of rock, paper, scissors, Joshua and Seungkwan are chosen.
They get into a little van, counting till a hundred, while everyone else runs across the expanse of the beach, searching for shelter.
You slip into a little nook behind a couple of thick trees, tucking your legs under you.
Your cameraman graciously offered to leave you alone, lest you get caught, and you find yourself all alone, surrounded by moss and forest.
That doesn't last long.
Heavy footsteps draw your attention, and your ears perk up. Surely they haven't finished counting so soon?
Pushing your body closer to the walls of the tree, you peer up at the body making it's way to you.
Pale skin, black swimming trunks, no shirt-
"Seungcheol?"
"oh shi- move in, they're coming"
You oblige, schooching further in as he pushes up against you.
His shoulders shield you from the side, chest flush against your upper arm as his breath tickles the shell of your ear.
"sorry," he mumbles, trying to give you as much space as the little hull would permit- which, admittedly, is not very much.
"you're good,"
Silence settles on you like a heavy blanket, heating up the skin on both your bodies.
"you've uh, got a good eye for hiding spots"
"yeah I was undefeated at tag in the second grade"
He chuckles, shaking his head.
"sorry- you're just trynna make conversation I know-" you mumble, slightly guilty.
"don't be,"
You nod, shifting slightly.
"you're so tense," he muses, eyes trailing over your scrunched shoulders, "shouldn't be so on edge all the time y'know"
Amused by your silence, he continues.
"breathe, y/n"
You suck in a shaky breath, unsure of why your body listens to his command without question.
"that's it, good, now let go for me"
His voice is soothing like the tide; it ripples through you, smoothing out your trembling nerves.
"there we go, one more time,"
Following his voice, you feel your body relax completely. For the first time all day, you've felt your body calm.
"thank you," you mutter, and turn to face him.
Bad idea.
Bad. Idea.
All the breath work he'd helped you with goes flying out the window when you see how close his face really is.
The puffs of air he let's out fan over your face, hovering over the crimson of your lips. You feel your breath catch, your heart quicken, your face heat up.
He's so close.
An inch closer and his lips would be on yours.
Before your thoughts get any further, you look away, opting to look at the width of his shoulder instead.
"uh uh, you're looking at me" he tuts as he eases your chin back in his direction. The pad of his thumb grazes your skin, and your blush burns brighter.
An amused smile twists at his lips and obviously, you're aware of how pathetic you must look.
Just as you're about to push his hand away, he leans closer, whispering-
"do I make you nervous?"
There's a pull between your bodies, a magnet drawing you closer, closer still. Seungcheol's breaths fan over your face and his eyes drop to take in the plush of your lips. You follow suit, eyes darting from his own to his lips.
It's as though time stills around you, like you've been set in glass, and he's about to kiss you, when suddenly, you hear a familiar yell.
"SHUA HYUNG- THERE'S A FOOT OVER HERE!"
You jolt upright, pulling away from Seungcheol so quickly he can barely process what's just happened.
Your eyes dart to his lower body, and you see the way one of his feet stick out beyond the width of your hiding spot.
"wh-"
In a haste, you push a finger to his lips, silencing him.
"your leg-" you whisper-shout at him, tilting your head towards the traitorous foot.
His eyes widen.
Before you can say anything more, Seungcheol grasps your hand, gently taking your finger off his lips and places it against yours. Wordlessly, he rises to his feet, shielding you with his body.
"I GOT CHEOLLIE HYUNG-" you hear Seungkwan yell.
Quizzical as ever, you glance up at the man before you, brows knitting together. He shoots you a sly wink, and whispers- "you'll win for me, won't you?", leaving you red faced and confused.
"ya got me, I'll admit," he holds his hands above his head as he steps away, in Seungkwan's direction.
The next moments pass by in a haze, like you've been submerged under water. All you could think of was the way his breath felt on your lips, the way his voice simultaneously soothed and burned your nerves, the way he protected you- giving himself up instead.
Damn Choi Seungcheol and the way he had you wrapped around his little finger.
You remain hidden for the next twenty-or-so minutes, and the game comes to an end.
You've won.
You're told that your prize is a local dinner with a person of your choosing- staff or member, and it only makes sense to pick Seungcheol. After all, you wouldn't have won without him.
Failing to notice the dejected gazes and smiles the rest of the members sent your way, you walk past them, headed straight for him.
"I choose you." you say, standing in front of him.
The way his eyes widen, lips parting in an instant, tells you that this wasn't on his bingo list. You? Choosing him of all people? Hell- he thought he fucked up big time today-
"me?"
"you."
He's dumbfounded. Honest.
At the restaurant, you sit opposite one another at a table for two. Cameras surround you like endless ocean, and your table becomes an island.
You know he's thinking about today's events when his gaze flicks down to your lips. You know you're thinking about it too.
You also know, however, that this is not the place to discuss secret almost-kisses. Not when everything you do, everything you say, will be monitored.
"I'm still so surprised you chose me," he chuckles as you finish getting your makeup done.
"I couldn't have won without you,"
There's a smallness to your voice, one he hasn't heard these past few days. It's meek and soft and shy and god it's killing him. How could you be this adorable?
"oh c'mon, that was... nothing, honestly"
You shake your head, looking into his eyes earnestly, and he goes quiet. Flicking back and forth, from eyes to lips, you find yourselves sinking into dangerous territory.
The rich brown of his pupils seemed to grow darker as they held your picture within them. Each second he spent looking at you had them blowing wider and wider with something you couldn't help but swoon over.
Perhaps your feelings were being...returned?
Clearing your throat, you remember you're on camera.
"w-what are we ordering?" you blurt out.
"d'you have any preferences or would you like me to order for us?"
Your heart twists at the way he says it- 'us'.
Us.
"you can order...fo- for us" you mutter as your head drops ever so slightly, and you look up at him through heavy lashes and burning cheeks.
The corners of his lips turn upwards, into the softest smile he can fathom, and he nods- although more to himself that to you.
"how about Khao Soi? we can do that, some raw papaya salad and a sticky rice dessert to finish?"
You nod, letting your eyes skim over the way his throat moves with every word he says. As he beckons the waiter over, you can't help but notice how long and thick his fingers are, how veins trail across his arm.
And his voice- god, his voice. The deep, rich timbre of it has you feeling weak in the knees every time you hear him speak.
"-and to drink, we'll get two coconut waters," he concludes, sending the waiter off with your orders. "I wonder what the others are doing,"
"me too, I feel a little bad y'know... we should've all come together" you pout.
"yeah I can't say they're very happy to have missed this-"
You smile- "missed the food, right?"
"sure"
You exchange knowing glances, your eyes having their own secret conversation, unbeknownst to the cameras around them.
Dinner flies by like a cool summer breeze, and you find yourself falling deeper and deeper into Seungcheol's charms. Not only did he ensure that you were served first, he also made sure to cut your chicken into bite sized pieces, and remembered little details from your earlier conversations.
A flirty remark was thrown in every now and then, some more obvious than others, and you found yourself turning red so often, you might as well have gotten a permanent sunburn.
You talk about music and the people you look up to, the stars, highschool memories- everything. Conversation just came so easily with him.
The plates and bowls before you lay empty on the table, the cameras have been turned off, and your mics have been taken away.
Seungcheol gets out of his seat, moving to your side as he offers you his hand. You take it, graciously, and rise from your chair.
"thanks," you mumble, slightly tipsy from the blood his touch sends rushing to your head.
"mhm"
You step outside, trailing behind the staff members while you walk towards your hotel.
"so," he starts, when you've kept a safe distance from prying ears and eyes, "about today..."
Before he can say anything more, you shudder, suddenly feeling nervous.
He looks at you, brows furrowing, but chooses to move on anyways.
"...I uh, did I scare you? was that too much?"
"no! no I just- it caught me off guard is all"
"I seem to be doing that a lot huh?" he muses, fighting back a sly smirk. Seungcheol steps closer, shoulders bumping into yours, and you let out a surprised squeak.
Embarrassed, you turn away as he laughs beside you. A pout takes over your full lips, causing his laughter to increase its intensity.
"tha-that wasn't-" you huff out, to which he raises an amused brow.
"wasn't what? wasn't 'cause of me- wasn't 'cause I make you nervous?"
Oh.
He had you figured out.
You might as well have been stark naked under his stare, 'cause frankly- there was nothing left to hide. Not from him.
Still, you make one last attempt at disguising your feelings towards him. Through deep red cheeks, flushed skin, you speak-
"you- I'm not nervous!"
"uhuh, sure you aren't, sweetheart"
Your heartbeat quickens at the petname. Surely, he didn't just-
"hey-" he snaps you out of your thoughts, "I can practically hear the gears turning in that head of yours,"
"let me beeee" you whine, nudging him away lightly with your fingers knocking against his bicep. Seungcheol brings a hand to his chest and pouts in faux pain, eyes scrunching shut.
"I'll leave you alone then," he begins to step away from you, and you panic. Without thinking, you pinch the fabric of his shirt sleeve between your fingers, and tug him back, preventing him from leaving.
You stay silent when he twists his gaze to you, and whatever semblance of mystery, of uncertainty, you'd built up comes crashing down. The gentle grasp of your fingers on his shirt tells Seungcheol all he needs to know.
The two of you walk in silence, and before long you find yourselves at the hotel, bidding people goodnight as you enter the elevator together.
"it's cute when you do that, y'know?" he says, suddenly, motioning to the nervous twiddling of your fingers.
"it is?"
"uhuh, even that little pout you make everytime you're flustered-" he brings his hands down to meet yours, grasping your fist gently. You fingers lace together like pieces of a puzzle, and he steps closer.
"really?"
"mhm" Another step.
"Seungcheol," you breathe. The air feels heavy, dense with desire and want. A little voice at the back of your head urges you to step back, to stop whatever this is, but you can't help yourself.
"tell me you want me to stop- tell me you don't feel this,"
There's a rawness to his voice, something akin to desperation. He begs you with his eyes to say something, anything, he's been losing his mind over you and it hurts to have you this close but still out of reach.
"I-" you start. The elevator dings, signalling your floor, and your eyes snap to the open doors. "it's late, we should-"
"do you feel this, y/n?" he pleads, loosening his grip on your wrist.
"we shouldn't-"
Seungcheol lets out an exasperated groan as you slip out of his grasp, slowly backing away down the corridor and into your room. He watches you disappear and something inside him begins to snap.
It had been two days. Two days since he met you, but it felt like his heart had been searching for you since forever. The way you'd fit perfectly into his arms, the way your shy demeanor mellowed out his intimidating one, how easy it was to talk to you- Seungcheol knew deep within, his feelings for you were more than a simple crush.
You wake up the next day, and head down for breakfast. Avoiding the pleading glances Seungcheol sends your way, you force yourself to eat. You aren't sure why you do this- it's not like you feel uncomfortable, hell you feel exactly the way he does. So, why was it so hard to look at him?
Seungkwan and Vernon strike up a conversation with you, talking about what was in store for today.
"our hair-makeup Noona told me that we're going shopping!" Seungkwan beams. Vernon nods, shoving a piece of toast in his mouth.
"shopping?"
"yep we're gonna buy clothes and food and stuff and I think there's a mini game in the evening"
You nod, finishing up your breakfast, and soon enough, you're all on your way to a large market place.
Bright stalls lit up the street, the smell of fresh food filled your senses, and the sun shone down, illuminating the world around you.
You had till the evening to do as you pleased.
Splitting off into groups, everyone begins to explore the market place, and you just so happen to be with Jeonghan, Joshua and Seungcheol.
If the past few days have taught you anything, it's that the twins cannot be trusted. The moment you see Joshua flash you a cheeky grin, you know they're up to no good.
A stall catches your eye, decorated with the most beautiful jewellery you've ever seen. Seashells and gem stones wrapped in thin gold wire made the prettiest necklaces and earrings, and you couldn't help but pick one up for yourself.
"see anything you like?"
It's Seungcheol. He plants himself behind you, chest pressed to your back, lips hovering dangerously close to the shell of your ear.
You freeze, holding the necklace in one hand. Before you can respond, an arm reaches out beside you and pries the item out of your hand.
"pretty," he mumbles, sending shivers down your spine.
You crane your neck to the side while your eyes search for his, and you see him staring directly at you.
"I uh, yeah it's um pretty"
Seungcheol places the piece back down, leaning into you as he reaches over the table- essentially trapping you between the display and his body.
Your breath hitches at how close he is. One wrong move- one right move- and his lips would be on yours. You don't dare to look away.
"aren't you gonna buy it?" the stall owner cuts in, "pretty necklace for pretty lady, eh?"
You shake your head as you step away- "I shouldn't-" you trail off, suddenly realising that Jeonghan and Joshua are nowhere to be seen.
"hey where'd those two go?" You set off, walking ahead to look for them- an excuse, obviously, to get away from Seungcheol. The blood rushing to your head was making you feel dizzy.
The day passes, you explore the market, eating all that you could. Taking in the new sights and smells, you feel so alive. Happiness really doesn't need much, does it?
Back at the hotel, you find yourself in your room with Joshua and Seungkwan as they try on all the new clothes they bought.
"kay this is the last one I think-" Seungkwan says, appearing in a blue Hawaiian shirt and some funny looking sunglasses.
You give him a thumbs up, turning to Joshua.
"you're done too?"
"mhm, I didn't buy too much"
You talk for a bit before they say their goodbyes, turning in for the night, and you're left alone in your room with nothing but your thoughts to entertain you.
'pretty'
Seungcheol's voice soothes through you and once again, you find yourself drifting off into thoughts of him. A sneaky hand slides down your body, past your sleep shorts, and you let your mind think back to him.
Day four begins uneventfully. It's a lazy morning, you order room service, read a little.
The real fun begins at night.
At 8 pm, you're ushered into the hotel bar, right by the pool. Bright neon lights hanging from the ceiling, the pool is illuminated by electric blue, and a large table- enough to seat 14- is placed in the centre.
"oh shit," Vernon comments from beside you, lowering his phone as you all take in the space around you.
A speaker comes to life from somewhere in the corner, and a distorted voice booms throughout the setting.
"night has come. prior to this evening three of you have received chits, revealing your role as the mafia."
Excited oohs and ahs leave everyone's lips as you wait for further information.
"the mafias have been allowed to meet and plan their strategy, the policeman and doctor have been chosen as well, but are not aware of each other's identity. if the mafias succeed in killing a majority of the civillians, they win. if the civillians kill all three mafia members, the civilians win. hidden in this space is a seashell. find it, and you win 500,000 won. if you don't find it- the money goes to the mafias, and they win. note- the pool is not off limits. please be seated at the table, and place your first guesses"
In a flurry of excitement and energy, you sit down. Everyone's on edge. The air is electric. A sly smile threatens to ruin your facade of innocence, but you push it down, putting on your best performance.
Earlier this morning, you, Minghao and Jeonghan had met up in your room, planning your victory.
The plan was simple. You had to tug on a couple heartstrings- use your charm to your advantage.
As long as you weren't suspected, the mafias would win.
And so, the game begins. Accusations go flying back and forth- fingers point wildly as voices raise to shocking decibels.
You watch your partners carefully.
Minghao is cool, composed, quiet- just like he usually is. Jeonghan uses his words, spreading accusations like wildfire, and the others eat it up with no hesitation.
All of a sudden, Soonyoung jerks out of his chair, rising to his feet with revelation written all over his face. His eyes widen momentarily before they narrow at the poor soul sitting opposite him.
"guys- IT'S MINGYU- TRUST ME GUYS, I'LL EXPLAIN IT ALL LATER IT'S MINGYU-"
The larger man huffs, shoulders slumping as he accepts defeat.
The game goes on, Mingyu has been killed, and the first round of searching yields no results for the civillians.
"night has fallen. mafias please select who you want to kill"
You point to Wonwoo.
The doctor fails to save him.
"morning is here- innocent civilian Wonwoo has been killed"
And again, chaos descends upon the room. Accusations settle on Woozi now, who's been suspiciously quiet according to the other members. You join in as well, agreeing with the majority, and Woozi is killed.
You, Minghao and Jeonghan share secret smiles.
The second round of searching begins and you wander off, pretending to search around.
"I can see right through you, y'know..." Seungcheol says, appearing beside you.
"wh-"
"nah I'm just kidding- who d'you think it is?"
"why would I reveal my cards? what if you're the mafia?" You narrow your eyes at him, backing away slightly in jest.
"cause I'm the police officer. and I think we should form an alliance-"
Hook, line, and sinker.
An grin takes over your features and you nod, "yeah I'd like that" You stare up at him, eyes wide, shining with innocence, and he melts instantly.
To him, you're intentions are all good. After all, how could you- an actual angel on Earth- betray him?
"night has fallen, mafias please select who you want to kill"
As Jeonghan and Minghao raise their heads, you mouth- 'Seungcheol- he's the police officer', and point to the man in question.
Jeonghan shoots you a proud smile before returning to crouch down on the table.
Once again, the doctor fails, and you succeed.
Seungcheol is dead.
"morning is here- policeman Seungcheol has been killed"
His jaw drops. Looking at you, Seungcheol is astonished at your effortless deception.
The third round begins and you sneak away into a closet, pretending to search. Seungcheol comes up behind you, and smirks.
"sly girl," he says, voice low and sultry, "got my guard down with that pretty face"
Your breathing halts.
Pretty.
Oh.
"what are y-"
"oh cut the bullshit, you knew exactly what you were doing- looking at me with those eyes,"
A bashful smile plays at your lips and you take a few steps back, coming in contact with the wall behind you. He smirks, stepping closer and closer with one hand tucked loosely in his pocket while the other reaches up to brush your hair out of your face.
The contact makes your skin flush, and he chuckles in disbelief.
"fuck you're adorable-"
He leans down, lips ghosting over yours, as his eyes grow heavy.
Time, unfortunately, isn't on your side, and the round comes to an end. You pout, mouthing a quick "sorry", and leave as his arm chases your parting figure.
"night has fallen, mafias please select who you want to kill"
The next couple of rounds pass by quickly, and finally all the members are killed, save for Soonyoung and Jun.
Your victory is announced, and you head back to you rooms after a hearty dinner.
Seungcheol and you make your way to the elevator, after saying your good-byes, and for the first time, you see him scowl.
"what's wrong?" you giggle, leaning against the elevator wall.
"oh nothing nothing," he mutters, stepping closer with each word, "I've been trynna kiss this girl for a while now, but I think God hates me"
You laugh, tipping your head back against the cool metal wall, and Seungcheol stands stunned. You were just so beautiful.
After a moment of silence, you straighten up, facing him once more, only to find his gaze already fixed on you. There's sure shot desire and awe burning behind his eyes. It's clear as day.
You stare up at him, and it's as though the world stops. The same pull you felt all these days, draws your bodies closer. Like a moth to flame, Seungcheol finds himself drawn to you. He's helpless.
He stands in front of you, your faces dangerously close, and you feel your breathing quicken. One hand cradles the nape of your neck while the other finds your waist.
"Seungcheol-"
"hm?"
"please-"
And his lips are on yours.
Colours blur together behind your closed eyes, fireworks go off in your head, your skin hums under his touch- it's nothing short of perfect; like a kiss straight out of the movies.
Your lips push against each other with a desperation you've never felt before, and his hands pull you closer. Seungcheol moves with such expertise, you can't help but feel your knees weaken with every motion of his body.
The ding of the elevator pries you away from each other, and you pull away panting. Your chest heaves like never before, and he shoots you a knowing glance. With his eyes he asks you- 'shall we continue?'
You rush out of the elevator, heading straight for his room. Shaky hands slide his keycard into the door and you're in.
Stepping inside, reality hits you like a truck and you pause.
"what's wrong-"
"what if someone finds ou-"
"shut up"
"what?"
"shut up" he breathes, pushing his lips against yours once again, effectively silencing you. All your doubts melt away, it's like the world's forgotten.
A hand sneaks down to your lower back, pulling you closer, and you gasp. Seungcheol smirks, taking advantage of your parted lips as he slides his tongue into your mouth. You whimper at the motion and his lips quirk up.
He loved it when you got all flustered for him, but this tops it all. Once he heard the little sound you made, there was no containing himself. The little control he'd managed to retain, finally snapped, and he let himself go.
The kiss turns hotter, wetter, and you both know where this is going.
Your chest burns, you heart races, and you pull away, panting. His eyes narrow in on the unsteady rise and fall of your chest, the swollen pout of your lips, the unmarked, tender flesh of your neck.
Backing up, Seungcheol settles down, sitting at the foot of the bed with his legs spread slightly as he adjusts his trousers. He looks up at you.
"c'mere baby" his voice is sinfully sultry, fingers beckoning you over to sit on his lap.
Your feet follow before your brain does, and you straddle his thigh, whimpering when your sex comes in contact with the firm muscle of his leg.
"oh?" he teases, hands smoothing over your hips, grabbing at the tender flesh as he forces your body to work against his thigh. "wanna ride my thigh, sweetheart?"
Your head dips into the crook of his neck and you nod, feeling small under the weight of his stare.
"c'mon, you gotta look at me-"
You whine into his neck, and he shudders, grabbing the back of your neck, pulling you into place.
"uh uh, this isn't up for debate baby," he tuts, "wanna see that pretty face"
You bite your lip, stifling a moan, when he rocks your hips into his thigh. The friction of your panties and the texture of his trousers sends you spiralling into a world of pleasure. Your skirt pools around your hips as he holds you steady, now bouncing his legs ever so slightly.
He pulls and pushes you as he pleases, manhandling your body like you were a toy- but god that made you feel some type of way. How he could move you and touch you and command you with such ease, had your panties soaked through.
You needed to feel him in you. Needed him to fill you up and fuck you so good you only remember his name.
"that's it, shit" he groans, pulling you harder until your clit snags ever so slightly on the fabric of his pants. You moan, legs twitching at the stimulation, and he smirks.
"you like that, huh?"
You nod, helplessly.
So he does it again. And again. And again, until your legs spasm around this thigh, until you moan and whimper, until you come undone.
All for him.
"aw sweetheart, you made a mess," he coos, as his hands run along the curve of your ass.
"don't- fuck don't say that"
You face is beet red- if he didn't know any better he would've been concerned right about now.
"d'you wanna keep going baby?"
You nod, eyes shining.
"so eager," he grins, "here, lie down for me-" Seungcheol pushes you gently so that your body rests comfortably on his mattress, and crawls atop you, legs settling at either side of your hips.
As much as you've thought about this very scenario, as much as you've imagined how he'd be on top of you, nothing could've prepared you for how breathtaking Seungcheol looks like this.
His hair's messy, his cheeks are flushed, and the look in his eyes has you burning with anticipation. How someone could be so gorgeous is beyond you.
"m'gonna make you feel good, hm?" he murmurs, dipping his head into the crook of your neck, sucking little love bites into the tender flesh. You groan, tilting your head involuntarily, and nod.
He grins against you, lips streching in a knowing smirk. Trailing his kisses lower to your collarbones, to the swell of your breasts, Seungcheol glances up at you-
"may I?" he asks, fingers sliding under the hem of your top, splaying against your tummy.
"mhm, please"
Pleased, he lifts your top off, tossing is aside before working your bra. Deft fingers slide under your back, clicking your clasps open with ease, and suddenly, you're bare under him.
Your nerves catch up to you, and you realise that he's staring. He's staring hard. Like you're the eighth wonder of the world and he's just discovered you. Like you're the long lost city of gold and he's been searching for you all his life. Like-
"you're so beautiful," he breathes. "fuck- let me look at you"
You turn away, a bashful smile lighting up your face- "stopp"
"I'm serious, you're honestly so-" he huffs out, unable to find a word big enough to fit how he feels about you.
A giggle bubbles out of your throat and he smiles. His eyes crinkle, forming tiny crescents, as he looks down at you so fondly you think you're heart's going to burst.
He presses his face into your chest, inhaling the scent of your skin while his lips press tender kisses to your breasts. The wet smacks he leaves across your skin burn cool under the gentle breeze swaying through the room. It tickles your skin.
Feeling his lips move along your skin, your desperation only builds.
"Seungcheol," you whine, drawling out the last syllable, "hurry please"
He tuts and sinks his teeth into the flesh of your breast, your body jolts in response.
"patience," he mumbles into your skin, "patience, baby", leaving goosebumps as he speaks. A shiver wracks its way through you, uncontrollable and intense.
"oh sweetheart-"
Choosing to be merciful, Seungcheol kisses a trail down your naked torso, stopping above the waistband of your skirt.
"this okay?"
"more than okay- just god, please don't stop" you whimper, hips jerking involuntarily into his hand.
Slowly, meticulously, he dips two fingers under the edge of your skirt and drags it down, letting his nails rake over the expanse of your thighs.
You shudder under his touch, completely at his mercy.
Once your skirt is off completely, he presses a gentle kiss to the inside of your ankle, and crawls up to face your cunt.
"god you've made such a mess of these," he rasps, running a finger along your slit through your soaked panties. Automatically, your hips roll up, seeking something more, but he forces them down firmly.
One hand holds you down while the other prods at your clothed entrance. He shoots you an evil smirk, and your breathing grows shallow.
"I hope you don't like these too much,"
All you hear is fabric ripping at the seams, and your eyes widen to the size of saucers.
"wha- oh my god" you cut yourself off with a loud moan as Seungcheol licks a thick stripe up your slit.
He winks up at you, eyes flashing with pride, and begins his work.
It's true what they say about rappers- their tongues really are built different.
Seungcheol devours you like he's been starved for years, like he begins and ends with you, like the taste of you is intoxicating. His tongue dips down into you, collecting your arousal before spreading it over your clit it firm waves.
The way he works that muscle against you isn't funny. It has you yelping, whimpering so pathetically you're both embarrassed and turned on at the same time
He laves at your clit, lapping up your juices greedily as if it gave him more pleasure than it did you.
"you taste divine," he mutters, half to himself, before plunging two fingers into your aching sex without warning. You moan, back arching off the bed, hips rolling up to meet his lips.
Seungcheol flicks his tongue rapidly against your hardened bud while his fingers piston in and out of you, curling up into you- oh, right there.
Your limbs tremble under his hold and your stomach tightens deliciously, waiting eagerly for your release; with the way he works your body, it isn't far away.
"Cheollie m'close-" you gasp, hands flying down to hold him in place, lest he decide to deny you of your orgasm. He groans when you tug at his hair, sending sound waves vibrating through your nerves.
A thin film of sweat settles over your skin, coating you like gloss. Your body writhes under his touch, and within moments, you feel yourself slip into blinding pleasure. The knot in your stomach snaps, and you limbs twitch helplessly.
Seungcheol eases you through your orgasm, slurping at your folds to taste your arousal. He pulls away with a smacking sound, his chin coated in your slick, and smirks at the fucked out look on your face.
"that good, huh?"
Cocky bastard. You want to smack that stupid smirk off his face, you want to throttle him and yell and hide all at the same time- but you know he's right. It really was that good.
So, you nod, looking away bashfully, red smeared across your pretty cheeks.
"wanna see you," you whimper, when he finally rises to his feet, towering over you.
He cocks a brow at you, a challenge dancing in his eyes, and you pout.
"please"
His expression stays the same and you can't help the exasperated huff you let out.
"please Cheollie I wanna see you,"
Finally, he smiles, obliging- "there we go, that's my good girl"
You aren't sure what you expected from him, but the moment he lifts his shirt off, time begins to slow. The lean, hard muscle of his chest, the defined ridges of his abs, the sinful swell of his biceps- you were drooling.
"can I-"
You trail off, sitting up so that you're seated at the edge of the bed, your face right in his abs.
"you can do whatever you want, sweetheart, m'all yours"
You giggle, "c'mon we've known each other for all of three days,".
"a lot can happen in three days,"
"mhm, but still-"
"hey," he turns serious for a second, "if this is going too fast for you, we can take things slower, okay?"
And suddenly, your desperation skyrockets. You've needed him from the moment you first saw him, and now that the time has come, it'll take an earthquake to stop this from happening.
Eager hands rake down his torso, tucking under the waistband of his pants. He hisses at the contact, eyes fluttering closed as you undress him.
"I want this," you affirm, voice soft and sultry, "I want you."
Leaving him in his boxers, you press a kiss to his abs, letting your hands roam over his defined torso, and then a little lower. Hard earned muscle greets your touch, and you can't help the way your cunt begins to clench up.
Seungcheol has the body of a god.
"baby-" he rasps as he threads his fingers through your hair, "fuck, you're gonna make me cum just like this-"
You giggle, letting him push you gently back onto the bed. He stares you down, eyes locking onto yours, and slides his last garment off so slowly you could cry.
"hurry" you whine, spreading your legs desperately.
Seungcheol has to compose himself. He really does. The sight of you, all spread out for him, so eager for him, has his head spinning. He curses under his breath, kicking his boxers off, and crawls above you, rubbing his cock along your wet folds.
A broken whimper claws up your throat at the contact, and you actually sob when he begins to push himself into you. Two fingers couldn't hold a candle to the girth of his cock.
"y-you're so big" you gasp, tears pricking at your eyes, and for once, you aren't lying just to feed a male ego. He was huge.
Your walls stretch deliciously around his girth, and you let out a shrill cry when he pushes further. You've taken big cocks before, but this? This put your toys to shame.
"just let go, doll, that's it baby, that's it-" he soothes, sucking in shaky breaths, trying desperately to control himself.
After what feels like an eternity, Seungcheol finally bottoms out inside you, his tip kissing your cervix with ease.
"oh," is all you can manage, feeling your insides make room for him. The shape of his cock presses into your walls, and your certain you won't be able to walk tomorrow. He's thick and long and heavy, and god you feel like some cock-hungry slut, with how desperate you seem to have gotten for him.
"fuck- you're so tight-"
"pl-please move," you whimper, jaw falling open when he draws his hips back before slamming into you.
Tears spill over the dams of your eyes, staining your flushed cheeks. Your eyes glisten with desire as you stare up at him, watching how his face contorts in pleasure.
"that's it, sweetheart," he seethes, supporting his weight on his forearms, caging you with his body, "takin' me so fucking good".
The drag of his cock, in and out of your sloppy cunt is nothing short of addictive. With every snap of his hips, you find yourself craving more and more, wanting him to burn, break, bend you.
"Cheollie please," your nails rake down his back, leaving marks you're sure you'll get in trouble for tomorrow, but you don't care and neither does he. All that matters is you, him and the pleasure you feel in this moment.
As Seungcheol pounds into you, his eyes remain trained in on your face, never losing focus of what matters most- you. There's a tender adoration in his gaze, how he looks at you so fondly, like you're the prettiest damn thing in the world.
"good fuckin' girl," he groans, "keep those eyes on me."
The room fills with the smell of sweat and the sound of sex- skin on skin, moaning, panting. You'd have been embarrassed of the lewd noises slipping past your lips if you'd have had your wits about you. The walls are thin. You know this. You know this, but still- feeling as good as you do, you can't bring yourself to care. Dealing with angry neighbours is tomorrow's problem.
A hand slips in between your legs, thumbing your clit, rubbing tight circles into the sensitive nub, and your eyes screw shut.
That all too familiar knot in your tummy begins to form, and Seungcheol forces his cock into you harder. The combined stimulation of his dick inside you and his hands on you is intoxicating, and you sink into the mattress, feeling a wave of release wash all over you.
But he's far from done.
"fuck-" he moans, feeling your walls spasm and squeeze around him as you cum all over his cock, "take it for me, yeah? you can take a little more, can't you?"
You whimper, legs quivering from overstimulation, and your body jerks under him as he continues to thrust into you, using your body as he pleases.
"shh, I know baby, I know," he soothes, dipping his head into your neck, sucking deep red bruises into the skin there.
Tears pool in your eyes, you nerves scream for respite, but you can't bring yourself to stop.
You can't help it.
He grabs your thigh, hooking it over his back, and pushes into you, reaching further than before. The new position sends you reeling from pleasure, and you swear no man has ever made you feel like this.
Despite having just cum, you feel another orgasm build in your belly- this one approaching much faster than the last.
"m'gonna- Cheollie please please, gonna cum" you sob, clawing at his back as his thrusts grow sloppy and harsh.
"cum for me."
And you do, clenching down hard around his length, leading him to his own release. He fills you up, emptying white hot fluid into your greedy hole, and finally, you're satiated.
Your limbs tremble and spasm, your skin feels sticky and hot, and your lips are swollen- but you wouldn't have it any other way.
Seungcheol collapses onto you, putting pressure of your stomach, causing your combined arousals to seep out of you, trickling onto the duvet.
"let's get a bath going for you," he chuckles, lifting his body back up and walking to the bathroom.
He fiddles around with the taps for a minute before coming back out, plucking a little box out of his bag as he settles down next to you.
"for you," he smiles, pressing the item into your hand.
You pry it open, and your jaw drops.
It was the necklace you wanted. The pretty one with the seashells and gems. You turn to him, eyes glistening and pull him into a sweet kiss.
It's different from your earlier ones. The way his lips move against yours aren't as agressive, and desperate as before. This time, he seems to be showing you how he feels, showing you his sincerity- it's almost as if he's trying to ask: "will you be mine?"
You pull away, breathless. His eyes sparkle as he looks fondly at you.
"pretty necklace for pretty lady," he grins, "right?"
2K notes · View notes
yzashaven · 2 months
Note
helloo, this is my first time requesting something but I have gotten obsessed with the way you write so-
I had this idea of a f!reader that is really not vocal in bed. And scaramouche absolutely GETS OFF to every little whimper and whine she makes because he doesn't hear it that often and makes an effort to hear *something* KDBDKDIEIDJD
Ok that's it, woohoo (with my luck i've already forgotten i even wrote this a day later so I'll just sign off with an M to remind myself, lmao)
~M
𝐌𝐎𝐀𝐍 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐌𝐄
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꒰ 𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 ꒱ scaramouche x fem!reader
꒰ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 ꒱ nsfw themes. cunnilingus. begging (both sides). fingering. penetration. kiss/bite marks. use of "baby" n "pretty girl". just the tip but not for long. he slaps his cock on your pussy like once + slight pussyjob?! (think that's it :3)
꒰ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 ꒱ he just wants to hear your cute little moans. is there really something wrong with that?
𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄—this was actually drafted like... a few days ago?? i don't remember when but suddenly, now, at a random time of 4am i felt like finishing it so here u go !! might be a bit off or something cuz i did it while half awake 😭 LMAO [not proofread]
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he's trying his best, he really is. all he wanted was to hear your pretty moans that tell everything he needs to know—that he's making you feel good.
scaramouche's tongue laps up your dripping arousal as his hands held your thighs apart. a soft sigh could be heard from him upon dragging a finger along your slit. that same finger soon enters your hole and finally, you let out a small moan. your voice was barely above a whisper yet he still heard it, "please moan for me, baby," scaramouche says and dips his head back down in between your legs. he plants a gentle kiss to your clit before speaking up again, "i really want to hear your pretty voice." he sounds almost... desperate.
he brings in another finger inside your pussy, curling them up at the perfect angle that he was sure would let you let out some kind of sound.
but all he got was silence.
a frown forms upon his lips but he won't give up. he leans down to suck on your clit all the while maintaining eye contact as much as possible. a deep blush appears across your cheeks, radiating heat on your skin. his hand makes it way to yours to guide it towards his head. you oblige in his obvious wishes and let your fingers tangle in the soft locks of his hair.
scaramouche pushes his fingers a bit deeper within you, in hopes that the tips of his fingers hit your sweet spot ever so slightly. he wants you to be all needy for him. surely that'll get you talking, right?
after some time, he found himself already lost in the sounds of your cute whimpering whenever he thrusts his fingers inside. "...'m cumming, scara..." you quietly gasp out as he began to absolutely devour you. he's acting like he hasn't eaten in days (which he doesn't even need to do!) "cum on my tongue, baby. cum for me."
you let the waves of pleasure wash over your body and bit by bit, moans began to continuously be drawn out from you. he smiles and lets out a low groan; upon standing up, you could clearly see how hard he was as he was stroking the length of his cock. slowly working it up from the base up to the tip.
he teasingly slaps his cock against your folds, eliciting a few good whimpers from you. since he felt like teasing you further, he slides the length of his dick along your slit. the head of it entering your hole every now and then but never fully settling inside you.
"tell me you want it." he spoke in a low and sultry tone.
"i want it." you replied upon throwing the last bit of your dignity out of the window, "i want you, scara. please..." a soft smile curls up his lips. affectionate kisses on your forehead and temples as he easily slid his cock inside. every sweet little sound you let out seems to drive him a little more crazier.
scaramouche's thrusts were slow, yet deep and precise—making sure that you felt pleasure rather than any hints of pain. "fuck, scara..." the way you gasped out his name with so much need laced in your voice. he fucking loves it.
"let me hear you some more, pretty girl." he whispers in between soft kisses on your collarbone as he felt like marking you with his kiss and bite marks. the feeling of that along with the head of his dick reaching your deepest parts sent shivers throughout your body.
he's glad to know that he's making you feel good.
and now he wants to fill you up for being such a good girl, all for him.
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1K notes · View notes
ssahotchnerr · 3 months
Note
jealous!Aaron would be super interesting in a situation where the reader has a meeting with an agent that has vibes similar to him and Kate Joyner (Whoever the reader meets kinda resembles and ex or maybe even Aaron himself and they're oddly friendly 🤭)
the one
OMG cw; bau!reader, jealous!aaron, aaron's petty (and a bit insecure), established relationship (and a healthy one at that <333), vague allusions to sex, fluff wc; 1.8k
"your team will be stationed here." the chief of police led you, aaron and jj into one of the conference rooms, complete with a large table, vast seating and numerous bulletin boards. "our head detective will be in to assist you shortly."
"thank you." once he had exited, aaron exhaled a breath - more so a let's get this show on the road, "alright, let's get settled."
jj began unpacking the evidence from the boxes collected so far, as aaron and yourself hung up photos; crime scene as well as images of the victims so far.
as promised, the door soon opened, allowing the noise of the precinct to drift in. it ended as abruptly as it had started, the door clicking shut.
"mornin', i'm detective parker." you heard from behind you, the name and voice strangely familiar, causing you to slow. "it's real nice of y'all to come all this way to help us out."
jj introduced herself, and then aaron, but no introduction was needed on your end; you turned and your eyes connected with the voice, both of you recognizing each other instantly.
"no way!" you grinned, moving forward and bypassing a handshake for a hug. he reciprocated your energy, exclaiming your name as he embraced you just as tightly.
aaron immediately stiffened, and jj was equally taken aback, studying the man. the first noticeable thing, the resemblance. the dark hair, dark eyes, tall frame...
while aaron began to seethe, and jj took the initiative to vocalize what they both were wondering - she had also noted the vein beginning to bulge in his neck. "the two of you know each other?"
"we worked together back in the tuscon field office." you explained, turning back to parker with a smile. "that was what, three, four years ago?"
"has it been? doesn't feel like it." he released a hearty laugh. "look at you, you haven't changed a bit. you look good, and i mean real good."
a swarm of jealous heat filled aaron's body, and only grew as you and parker began chattering away like lifelong best friends.
eager to draw it to a close, he cleared his throat, loudly. it regained both your attention, and cut your small reunion short.
"huh, a bau profiler," parker said as he sobered down, his smile lingering as he gazed at you. "who would've thought."
jj inserted herself into the conversation again, intrigued yet perplexed. "so the two of you were close, then."
aaron refrained - with a large amount of effort - from physically rolling his eyes. clearly. he opened a file, solely to maintain his composure.
"oh, absolutely," parker answered for the both of you, while also throwing an arm around your shoulder. "there was one time we-"
"fascinating." aaron deadpanned as he interrupted, closing the file in hand, rather aggressively as it produced a quaint slap. his eyes rose and studied the agent's arm placement for a few, obvious seconds, his lips drawing into a tight line before continuing. "need i remind you we currently have three victims and a killer who is unraveling as we speak. it's in our best interest to work diligently and remain focused."
parker nodded, his cheeks producing a faint blush at the injunction.
"the recent victim's family still requires an interview. you can start there."
"the two of us can go," parker said, gesturing to yourself, "it's quite a drive away, could give us the opportunity to catch up."
"that won't be necessary, jj can accompany you." aaron stated firmly, not even looking at him, nose buried in his file again.
an amused yet disdained expression formed on jj's face, nodding slowly in confirmation. "that i can."
parker opened his mouth, probably to protest, but aaron had already turned his back. he surrendered and headed out, jj following.
"aaron." you transferred your weight onto your hand as you leaned on the edge of the table, raising an eyebrow.
"what?" he looked at you. despite his query, his eyes were a telltale - he knew what he was doing.
you arched your eyebrow more, giving him a look.
he sighed, shutting the file. "i didn't like the way he was looking at you."
"he wasn't-"
aaron gave you a pointed look this time, prompting your words to trail off. he tore his eyes away from you again, allowing his next inquiry to exit his mouth more easily, "so, were the two of you...?"
"oh, no." you began to shake your head, but halfway, you hesitated. "well... almost."
his lips fell into an uneasy line, a pained expression painted on his face as his gaze shot back to yours. "almost?"
"we went on a few dates, kissed and..." you released a breath, choosing to keep the summary short, but the brooding envy in aaron's eyes deepened. "but nothing ever came from it. we were better off as friends."
after a moment though, you added, on the quieter side, "and besides, i transferred before anything really solidified."
the lines in aaron's face only grew, biting down briefly on his bottom lip.
"but it's in the past." you quickly reassured, bringing your hands to his cheeks for a moment to relieve the tension. "i won't deny that we were close, but you know how partnerships work. i depended on him, him on me, and the majority of our time was spent together. it caused a lot of emotions, all of which, are gone. i haven't even spoken to him since, seriously."
aaron wanted to counter, does parker know that? but from the earnest expression on your face, and loving look in your eyes, he withheld from doing so.
the bitterness on his face still didn't falter, but "okay. that's fine."
you still weren't convinced. "are you sure?"
"yeah. you're allowed to have a history, but that doesn't mean i need to be optimistic about working with him." he said as he exhaled a breath. he meant it, fully secure and confident in your relationship. he simply detested the idea of another yearning for you, especially one you had a past with, and one who looked quite like him - a potential competitive force.
you were his.
"of course," you nodded, with full understanding. "if the roles were reversed, i know i'd feel the same."
"and as long as he doesn't try anything..."
you laughed, your fingers playing with and then smoothing out the lapels of his suit jacket - positioning them in perfect place just as they belonged. "he won't. trust me, he's not like that."
aaron nodded, his eyes softening as he gazed down at you. if it weren't for the current setting, he would've brought his lips to yours.
"i have you." you offered him a loving, genuine smile, the affirmation to his just-previous thought calming his heart rate further. "i have everything i could ever want."
-
despite aaron being a bit (very) high-strung, and keeping a close eye on parker, he kept his word - he remained civil. naturally, he still was passive aggressive, short, and didn't dare smile while interacting with him.
the team noticed the 'chemistry' too. you knew they were whispering about it; they had gazed questionably between the two of you upon their arrival at the precinct, and through the substance of the case - the naturalness, the easy meshing, bouncing ideas off each other. but you had worked with parker for years - you knew how he worked, and likewise. it was like riding a bike, old habits resurfacing.
they also noticed the familiar characteristics to aaron (morgan of course teased you about it, you simply waved him off). and even penelope all the way back home asked about it, "so this guy, what's the story there?"
but despite the at-times, annoying attention - the case proceeded and resolved easily. within a few days, it was time to return home.
as the team settled other matters - exit reports, paperwork, etc. - you found yourself with parker, packing up and clearing out the conference room.
the two of you were alone for the first time all week, and you could sense it in the silence - a pending question. it was a matter of time before it was brought to focus.
"what do you think would've happened, if we would've given it a shot?"
you froze, facing him. "what?"
"you and i." his eyes searched yours, creating a sense of deja-vu. it was familiar, having spent so much time with him and once it had sent shivers throughout your body. but as strong as they seemingly once were - it wasn't like with aaron. it didn't leave you feeling lightheaded and giddy and as if you could simply burst at the seams.
when you remained silent, he continued.
"we were good together." he stated, insistently. "you can't deny it. good partners, a great team."
"yeah... we were," you agreed, fiddling with some papers as you thought. "but in the field. romantically, no. we couldn't see eye to eye on anything non-work related, don't you remember how much we bickered?"
"that was good for one thing, at least."
you ignored that, firm and conclusive in your answer. "we wouldn't have lasted."
"and he's in the picture now." he chuckled as he crossed his arms, a tinge of irritation present.
"yeah, he is." you hardened your voice - he knew it as your tell to quit it. "like i told you the night before i left. i couldn't stay. there was more for me out there. and after joining the bau, i now know it was in more ways than one. i love the work, although it's tremendously difficult and gruesome at times. i love the family it's given me. and most importantly, i love aaron."
parker nodded silently, rather disappointedly, but understanding nonetheless.
"i love him. he's the one, i'm positively certain he is."
he sighed as shoulders dropped, his words melancholy but supportive. "well, he's good for you. if anything about him being attached to your hip, or giving me the subtle death glare constantly the past few days, has something to say for it."
you laughed gently. "profiling the profilers?"
"oh c'mon, the way he looks at you? anyone can tell."
-
on the jet, you weaved down the aisle, past the team finding their seats, getting comfortable for the ride home. when you reached aaron, you wrapped your arms around his middle.
aaron's lips tipped upwards in a smile, his arms mirroring yours. "what's this for?"
you only tightened your grip, mumbling into his chest. he could hear your smile in your voice. "just 'cause you're mine."
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jyoongim · 3 months
Text
~Blood & BLISS~
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Human!Alastor x wife!Reader
Themes: 1930 based! Human!Alastor x wife!Reader, domestic life! fluff, smut, devotion, slight manipulation, mention of children, pregnancy,  blood, murder, secrets 
chapter two
Synopsis: Marrying New Orleans famous radio host had been a shocker to everyone. You, a southern belle from an esteemed family, had somehow managed to catch the attention of the mysterious bachelor. 
Your wedding was all in the papers and talk of the town, even though the ceremony was rather private.
You quickly settled in as the homemaker as Alastor brought home the dough and took care of you. 
It was a dream come true.
But Alastor was strange, even to you and you were his wife, but you brushed it off as him just being a man.  You had nothing to complain about. You lived in a nice big house, had the finest luxuries, and Alastor would dote on you. What wasn’t to love?
Well… all those things were nice, but you were starting to crave a family with your husband.
You knew of Alastor’s upbringing and had an inkling that children might not be an option…but Alastor wouldn’t deny you what you desired most would he? Of course not ma belle.
Alastor prided himself on how people often wondered about him. The renowned radio host, who the public rarely saw. He was a mystery to many. He frequented jazz lounges and often could be found drinking whiskey as he listened to the Mimzy gossip about the latest news.
He,  himself was shocked when he met you, the prettiest thing in the city. He had to have you. He knew you were the one.
Like the gentleman he was, he sent you flowers and love letters to begin courting you. He never tired of how shy you were around him. 
It wasn’t long before he asked your father for your hand and the two of you got hitched.
And what a wedding it was! he spared no expense to your disapproval.
Alastor was the epitome of what every husband inspired to be! 
Doting, providing, and attentive.
But he had a secret he kept from his little wife…
Can he maintain control over his domestic affairs and his sinister ones?
Soft jazz played in the background as you busied around the kitchen preparing dinner. The sizzling of the oil carried the scent of fried chicken as you chopped collards and added them to another pan to fry.
You hummed along to whatever song was playing as you cooked.
You took the chicken out of the grease, poured some of it in a can for later and used the rest to make cornbread. You stirred the collards a bit, adding pepper and a little salt before turning the stove off. You glanced at the clock; 6pm, Alastor should be coming home soon.
After putting everything in pretty dishes and wrapping it in foil you sighed tiredly as you finally got off your feet, plopping down on a couch.
You almost wanted to go back into the kitchen and clean up, but thought to just wait after dinner to do so. 
You perked as your radio made a noise, static as if the channel had changed, before the voice of your husband came through.
”Well folks that is all. I have for you tonight! I hope you enjoyed today’s broadcast and I will see you tomorrow. I wouldn’t want to be late for dinner nonono haha. Until next time!”
You smiled, feeling happy he wasn’t going to stay at the studio all night.
With that in mind, you quickly ran upstairs to freshen up, wanting to greet your husband without the smell of grease clinging to you.
“I’m home!” A voice called as the sound of the front door closing had you rushing downstairs.
Alastor was taking off his coat, when you greeted him “Oh let me take that” you smiled, grabbing his coat to put it away. He let out a relieved sigh as he removed his shoes and put them by the door. Once comfortable, his long arms were around your waist, pulling you into a kiss “And how was my beautiful wife today hmm?” He asked bringing a dainty hand to his lips. You giggled “Oh nothing worth mentioning. How was work today? I heard you signing off. I hate that I missed tonight’s broadcast” you mused, untying his bow tie. Alastor hummed “oh you know same ole same ole, through I will say I got a lot of fan mail today” he chuckled as you rolled your eyes. He took a whiff of the air and grinned “Hmm looks like I actually made it in time for dinner”
You both made your way to the kitchen and you immediately went to fix his plate, while he got glasses out of the cabinet and some red wine.
Alastor practically had drool coming out of his mouth as the smell of food wafted into his nose. You took a seat across from him and smiled. “My my my dear what a meal youve prepared tonight!” He commented as he took a bite out of the cornbread, moaning in delight.
It always filled your heart with happiness seeing Alastor eat your food. When you first got married, you didn’t have a clue on how to cook. It was rather embarrassing, but you had grown up with personal cooks.
But Alastor didn’t mind teaching you, and soon enough you were whipping up delicious meals that filled his stomach, rather than upset it.
Dinner was quiet as the two of you enjoyed each others company, Alastor making comments about the lastest gossip he had heard and you catching him on the neighborhood gossip. “Oh before I forget,  Mimzy wants to know if you wanted to swing by the lounge this weekend. Something about I keep you to myself too much” Alastor laughed, swiping at his mouth. You laughed, that sounded like Mimzy. Always hoping to get a chance at you singing on stage so she could make a few extra bucks. “Well tell ‘er not this weekend, I have plans to host a few of the ladies for book club. Rosie is sure to have some gossip I’ve missed.” 
Alastor quirked a brow “You sure dear? I fear Mimzy will chew me a new one if she don’t get to see ou” You mulled it over “Well book club usually don’t take that long and its during tea time so I guess I don’t mind gracing the lounge with my presence” you giggled, getting up and taking your empty dishes to the sink. Alastor followed you and quickly swatted your hands as you reached to turn the sink on. 
“Now now my dear, you spent all evening cooking the least I can do is wash the dishes. The chef shouldn’t cook and clean” he nudged you away from the sink as you pouted.
It never ceased to amazed you that Alastor took on household chores. Most husbands had their wives cook and clean, but not your Alastor.
He didn’t like you to tire out from maintaining the home all day.
You pressed a kiss to his cheek in thanks and told him you’ll be upstairs getting ready for bed.
You had just finished rolling your hair when Alastor came up to your bedroom. You sighed as you sunk into the cool cotton sheets, finally relaxing for the day. You didn’t realized you had quickly fell asleep until feeling Alastor slide into bed beside you, arm pulling you to tuck you into his side and rest your head on his chest.
You happily cuddled into him, breathing in his scent as the sound of his heartbeat lulled you back to sleep.
A yawn passed your lips as began to fall asleep
”Goodnight” 
”Sleep tight dear”
”Don’t let the bedbugs bite”
”haha see you in the morning light love” he whispered pressing a kiss to your forehead as you sighed, chest heaving in deep breaths.
Alastor smiled at your sleeping face; how lucky was he to have a sweet wife who worked so hard while he was gone. His eyes grew heavy as he listened to your soft snores.
What bliss. He wouldn’t give this up for anything in the world.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
NOTE: aaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhh why and how did my mind conjure this when I have other things to write eeeeeeehhhh!!!!!!!
Anyway….this is gonna be ANOTHER short story hehehe. Since I wrote it on a whim it might take some time for me to post the next part but I hope y’all enjoy it nevertheless!
Remember to comment on the pinned post as I have a hard time finding everyone to tag since y’all are scattered on different posts!
if i missed anyone my bad!!!!
@nightshadelm @th3-st4r-gur1 @amurtan @lunaramune @southern-bayou-beau @monstersealclubber @certifiedcrybabyyy @karolinda007-blog @theveiledlibrarian @simphornies @yourdoorisunlocked @nettaw @purplecatsandhearts @catherine1206 @jellibean2018 @thewinchestah @wonderlandangelsposts @alishii @readergirlstuff @whydohumansss @missgurlsstuff @yuzurixx @darkovergrownforestnymph @dasimp777 @markster666 @alastorsgirl48 @alastor-simp @alastorsaries @preciousbabypeter @alastwhore666 @strawberrypimp666 @stawberrypimpsimp @queenariesofnarnia @peachedtvs @peachedtv @tpks @siiv3r @hazelfoureyes @okay-babe @aconfusedworld @chewbrry @altruisticalastor @yunimimii @dievia3 @alastorsdear @alastorsdarlingdoe @t0byisher3 @dennsfz @twismare @nanami1chu @yoongibabs @menthatilove @smoky000
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satoruhour · 11 months
Note
RIDING JJK MENS ABS
a/n: thinkin’ bout dbf! jjk men bc of the toji drabble….. ouuuuhhhh im cooking
warnings: ab riding / humping & clit stimulation & pet names for all, implied phone sex, implied m! masturbation, somnophilia, cum eating, praise, implied second round (gojo), orgasm denial, implied overstimulation, calls you ‘slut’, a little mean, slight brat-taming, consensual recording, fingering from the back (geto), nipple play, soft sex, praise, brief unprotected p -> v penetration (nanami), toji is ur dad’s best friend, age gap (reader in uni, toji is in his 40s), calls you ‘whore‘ once, implied unprotected sex, implied creampie / breeding kink, lots of dirty talk, slight degradation, he smacks ur ass once (toji), n*sfw under the cut
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✶ GOJO
your eyes flit between gojo’s and his pants, hanging low on his hips as his chest heaves in even breaths. it’s more often now that the strongest sorcerer wakes up after you, feeling so safe in your arms, but today you have other plans.
you feel a little sorry for him when he’s completed a gruelling mission last night, but the throbbing of your core and the twist of your stomach is uncomfortable enough when that gruelling mission lasted three days. you’ve sent him risqué photos, along with texts of needing him bad but the most comfort he could provide was late phone calls with the sound of him stroking his cock.
the real thing was always better, though.
your resolve hardens when your mind wanders to satoru’s moans you heard on the line just last night, dragging yourself off the warmth of the sheets and onto him, not before taking off your pants, freezing in place when he shuffles just a little. you’re awfully cautious especially when you‘ve been caught before from your output of cursed energy and his six eyes.
so when you settle down on him, you’re already grinning at your triumphant feat until your clit bumps along his abs and you’re sitting up straighter. oh.
you abandoned your original plan of pulling down his pants, instead dragging your pelvis against the hard muscle there, the ridges of his core feeling absolutely divine against your cunt. the only thing you can do with your hands is to hold them up, careful not to put any force on his chest while your hips move against his front and you’re moaning, softly. it feels too good to stay silent, letting out short breaths and wanton pleas of his name.
within a few rocks of your hips, you can feel your high already approaching, a little embarrassed at how wet his skin was from your dripping cunt but the feeling of it all makes you lost in pleasure, not even realising how, now, there was a pair of blue eyes staring back at you.
“wow.” 
“satoru!” you jump at the sudden voice interrupting your deep spell of pleasure, not surprised when all he does is sneak a peek at his torso and just smirks, taking a finger and swiping at the soaked skin of his abs. he pops it into his mouth, humming, satisfied with the taste and you can feel your body heating up from the need and the desperation for gojo after being away from him for three days.
you’re just unaware he’s also missed you like a dog misses a bone, and he’s so goddamn hard it hurts, but he’d do anything for his pretty baby to get off first.
gojo grins, “why’d you stop?”
“i— uhm, just— ah!” you know that grin only ever holds sinister thoughts when he flexes his torso and stimulates your clit, enjoying the sudden moan you let out, “’t-toru…”
you start moving unconsciously, body sagging over his as your hands find their place on his chest and you press hard, gojo’s breath being taken away both literally and figuratively when you grind down onto his naked skin with the attractive bend of your body, the ridges of his abs making your pussy feel so good.
“sato— oh, f-fuck!” you whine out as he places his hands on your hips to help you, leaving trails of fire hot touches along your ass and waist. his hands are so big, too, the simple movement of his hands on you is enough to make you clench around nothing.
“that’s it…” satoru is entranced by your cunt, dragging up and down his middle while your whimpers taint his ears and he’s hoping you’d cum soon just so he can see your trembling thighs and beautiful voice. “that’s right, ride me like a good lil girl— shit, clenching ’round nothin’.”
“g’na cum?” nodding, your pelvis moves desperately on his torso as gojo���s words make you mewl out for him, the burn in your core finally releasing when his hands spread on your plush ass that it has your clit pushed up all against him and your hips stutter in cute little jerks.
“satoru, satoru, satoru, oh my god—!” and you cum loudly with chants of his name, cunt leaking more and more cum that all he can do is watch, asking you with a sweet voice to lie back on his legs while he spreads your pussy to see just how wet you are, a glistening shine on your folds. gojo just grins, licking his lips with a glint in his eyes and a throbbing cock — the morning’s just started.
✶ GETO
sometimes geto was a professional at hiding what he was really feeling — at how annoyed he gets when someone brushes your opinion off, or the anger when gojo accidentally had smacked you hard while explaining something. but because he was so adept in this skill, you never really know what he’s thinking until you’re teasing him in public.
you whine when your hands are slapped away from his pecs, an aht aht leaving him when all you want is some balance. but geto is mean when he wants to be, and he’s not entirely happy after the stunt you pulled in the high-end fashion store today. a show of brattiness and teasing, asking him to come into the dressing room just to bend over with your ass right on his cock. this photo would look so cute as my wallpaper, suguru!
you were right, even if geto didn’t want to admit it, but it’s the last thing on your mind now when you’re been denied your orgasm twice already, forced to ride your boyfriend’s abs with no one to help you.
“su’,” you mumble, going delirious from how much your clit ached, and yet you weren’t allowed to cum until he thinks you can, hands going everywhere from your hair to your face just to have some sort of ground. “w’nna cum, p-please… ’m sorry sugu—”
a high-pitched moan leaves you when geto tenses his torso, enjoying your show as he leans back comfortably with both arms behind his head. you look so stunning like this, begging for release while your body contorts in all sorts to grind your clit into him with more friction. it’s so cute, and while geto doesn’t enjoy being tested in public, there’s a thrill in denying it and then giving it all to you later until you’re begging for him to stop.
“what was that?” he makes an act of putting a hand to his ear, “didn’t hear you, baby.”
“’m sorry, suguruu— s-shit,” your hips speed up when you find a particular spot, apologies continuing to spill from your lips until they’re cut off but geto grabbing your hands, being a little lenient as he lets you use his chest. your moans turn into thankful whimpers paired with the lewd sounds of your pussy against skin, fingers feeling all around him from his neck to his hair and unaware of how geto could cum just from how you use him like a fucktoy.
maybe he should capture this.
“dirty little slut, hm?” you only could hum and agree, babbling out some yes’s aimlessly as you continue to grind your puffy clit on his front, a yelp sounding when geto prods at your entrance which is sopping wet. “look at you soaking my tummy, naughty girl.”
“yea— yeah, yeah, ’m your naughty girl haah—” as his finger nudges into your hole, you mewl and your mouth hangs open, thick finger already stretching you out nicely and he smiles, watching you amused while as your expression melts into rolled back eyes and thrown back head.
“yeah, you are,” geto mutters breathlessly under his breath, making haste to grab his phone with your photo on the screen to open the camera and presses record — something he loves documenting for a folder named ‘my eyes only ♡’ that’s full of you getting ruined.
“smile for the camera, pretty darlin’,” and your drunken state is captured right up to the moment suguru inserts another finger and he’s so glad he’s got it on camera — your whines, your faltering hips, your hooded eyes, your wet pussy — his cute baby smiling so brightly at the camera while you ride yourself into oblivion on geto’s abs, absolutely loving the attention.
because even if geto swears he loves putting you in your place, he loves seeing you in pleasure more, especially when it’s all just for him.
✶ NANAMI
“kento, can i try something?” you mumble, a little shy at the idea that popped up randomly in the outing with your friends earlier. you couldn’t wait to get home right after to try it out only to find that your boyfriend was still on his mission. a cold shower, your favourite show couldn’t distract you one bit, practically jumping up when he comes through the door at ten o’ clock.
nanami who never misses a night to read a few pages of his book, puts it down, a curious tilt of his head that’s got your heart full and pumping fast, both at the cute gesture and the thing you were about to suggest.
“in what way, baby?” he gives you his undivided attention, glasses pulled off his face and you suddenly don’t want to say anything until you remember the aching pulse of your cunt and you think that it would be worth it.
“uhm—” you stutter, taking his reading glasses from his hand and the book as well, setting them down on the bedside table. in a second you’re straddling him, being the victim of a knowing slight smirk and wandering hands on your waist.
“if you had this in mind, you should’ve just told me, dear,” nanami smiles at your flustered state, but is dumbfounded when you pull up the fabric of his nightshirt and move up just an inch from his hips to his torso, sighing softly to yourself when your pelvis meets the dips of his abs.
and before nanami can ask, you’re moving slowly, experimentally and it’s a little humbling when you’ve got this hot blonde guy across you staring at you with a raised eyebrow, but he eases it into it immediately, cooing at your unsatisfied cravings, no doubt getting hints from the message he got from you earlier, multiple messages of i miss you’s and what time are you coming home?’s
“need some help, darling?” you whisper a small yeah, letting him tug your underwear off one leg and then the other, not missing the way his eyes follow the wet spot on the fabric before tossing it to the side.
“if you wanted to grind on me, you could’ve just said so,” he says matter-of-factly, like it‘s just another day at work but nanami’s also been thinking of you the whole time, too, eyeing the way your nipples start to harden. he chuckles at the twitch he immediately feels in your cunt, teasing her a little but rubbing a thumb over your clit and a soft moan leaves your lips.
“’s embarrasin’,” you hum, lowering yourself against his body to hide and your elbows wrap around his head, soft blonde hair tickling your arms. but at that point it’s invitation for nanami to nudge the thin shirt up your body and effectively disrobing you before he latches his mouth onto your hardened buds, sending a choked whimper past your lips.
“k-kento, baby… ohh my god—” the feel of his tongue flicking against your nipples and sucking hard on them prompts your hips to hump faster, panting and moaning like a dog in heat while you start to soak his torso. nanami groans when he feels the wetness of your pretty pussy, unconsciously tensing his core. 
“kento… f-fuck—!” he’s preoccupied with your tits, moving to the other one and repeats the process and your back arches in his hold, a pornographic whine going straight to his ears and right down to his cock.
“s’good for me, my love, doing so w-well…” nanami trembles when he feels your pussy contract and clamp around air, pulling away to look at your tear-filled face and knitted eyebrows and he feels a little guilty from being away the whole day.
“can you cum for me, hm?” nanami asks breathlessly, hands squeezing the fat of your breasts before they glide down to your ass, helping your tired hips. “cum for me, baby girl.”
you’re closer once those words leave his mouth and his lips capture yours in a harsh kiss, both groaning and moaning into each other’s mouths until you announce you’re cumming, hard. your hips move erratically, whining into nanami’s hair as your juices seep from your folds, leaving his torso dripping wet and soaking. but you’re so high from the orgasm that you squeak when his tip prod at your entrance.
it feels so good and soon you’re wiggling down to get his fat cock into you, pussy fluttering when his length stretches you out.
“’m gonna make it up to you, darling,” nanami grunts at the way your cunt feels around him, “been missin’ you so damn much today too.”
✶ TOJI
“baby, don’t think we should do this—” toji grunts when he feels you push him down onto your bed, headboard creaking just from how long you’ve had it. he would know, anyway, especially since toji had seen the bed in your room ever since he’s met your dad a few years ago when you were still in college. but now you’re bolder and older, clad in a short skirt with no panties and toji’s shirt.
because even when toji mumbled things like that in fear of your father finding out, you know he couldn’t resist you and your pussy.
“then how come you’re hard, toji-san?” he groans when you straddle his body that has a tight shirt on, the juices of your cunt leaking through. his hands immediately feel you up, palms going under the skirt and fondling your ass and he thinks that maybe he should let loose for once. toji isn’t sure when you had gotten so mesmerising, admiring the way you always helped your dad selflessly, contributing to his paperwork and bringing him coffee.
but until you’ve started dressing more provocatively around toji, he’s never noticed the way you grow into your features either, until one day you’re coming home after your second year of university in a tight pair of yoga pants, talking about joining some sports club to your dad while toji can’t take his eyes off of you.
it was so wrong of him, he knows, but when you’re confessing that night how you’ve recently been thinking about him, he loses all restraint he had, swallowing your cries of his name as he fucked you so good that night.
toji tsks, “dirty girl. grinding on your dad’s best friend like a whore. none of the boys at uni can fuck you good?”
you grin and shake your head, lifting your hips to pull the shirt off his body while he props himself up on his elbows to make it easier; the sheer size of shoulders and torso makes you lightheaded every time, toned in every area, albeit a little less years ago.
“y-yeah, toji-san, love it s’much…” your hips move on their own accord, eyes meeting his hooded ones as you drag your pussy up and down his middle, gasping when the hand that was caressing your ass lands a loud smack! that resonates throughout the room. you burn with shyness after, a pout making its way to your face before you bend down to hover an inch to his face.
“don’t wan’ dad to hear, toji…” you mumble, loving how you had so much effect over him by the way his chest heaves. It’s not often you see him, a normally cool-headed person, in this state, and toji’s equally enamoured by you as he smirks, tongue darting out to lick his lips.
“what if i want him to hear, pretty girl?”
you mewl, hips starting and halting every few times from the way toji stares at you. “what if i want your father to hear how my cock stretches your little pussy, hm? or how you’ll bring coffee to him with my cum leaking out your cunt?” his green eyes are unwavering, hand guiding you on his abs that flex and contract, making pleasurable contact with your needy clit.
“maybe then he’ll know what a little slut his sweet, sweet girl is,” toji voice mutters with a lilt and a rasp, drunk on the way your whimpers turn needier and sluttier, hips moving picking up their speed.
“wan’ you to ruin me, toji,” you drag out his name, the wetness of your cunt making obscene noises in the quietness of the room while your dad watches a football match downstairs, and you hope he doesn’t notice how his best friend and you have left the living room for too long.
“i’ll do that after you cum on me, angel,” toji grunts, rocking his body with you as your juices stain his skin, pleasantly surprised when you take one of his hands and stick his fingers in your mouth, sucking on it like how you usually would with his cock; the other swears he might just cum from that, and how you’re clenching around nothing, finally cumming hard with widened eyes and a slack jaw.
“cumming— cumming, cumming, toji…!” toji coos as you continue to ride out your high with cum dripping down your thighs and his body, a sly grin spreading across his face when he hears you say that they’ll be having another important football match after this and your dad wouldn’t miss it for the world.
you giggle as he places a gentle kiss to your lips, hands making quick work of his pants, “glad i get to have more time with my good girl, then.”
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melrodrigo · 4 months
Text
on your knees - c.s.
Cairo Sweet x Fem!Reader
Summary: It’s Valentine’s day and Cairo really needs a date.
Word Count: idk i’ll fill it later
A/N: Hiii, here to feed my babies. Beware the last few parts because i did nawt proofread this. Will come back to edit it eventually! Thanks for all the love
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“Come onnnnn, go on a date with me?” The girl in front of you practically begs, leaning forward till her whole body is pressed up to the front of your desk.
“Very funny.” You tell her, dryly.
Cairo’s been whining all week about not having a valentine’s date, but you don’t know why she specifically chooses to whine to you about it. After all, you had heard from around school she had a crush on Mr.Miller.
Your nose crinkles in disgust at the thought. Their coupling would be wild at best, and illegal (not to mention boring) at worst. It would be like seeing Einstein and an Instagram model holding hands. Except Mr. Miller wasn’t Einstein, he was Henry Miller. A spectacularly boring middle aged white guy.
To be completely transparent, you wouldn’t have minded going on a date with Cairo. Since, truth be told, you might’ve had a (tiny) crush on her.
You let your mind wander, think of what it would be like to take her out. The perfect date.
She loves nature, so it would be outdoors for sure. She doesn’t love extravagant gestures, you’d probably make her a little picnic. Your train of thought is cut short by the evil voice that tells you she could be fantasizing about a certain professor on your imaginary date.
Cairo breaks your daydreaming by falling to her knees beside your chair, hitting the carpet with a loud thud.
Your eyes widen, and you quickly grab her shoulders and try to push her up, but she refuses. For such a small girl, she sure had a lot of strength.
“What do you want me to do, beg? I can beg.” She tells you, still on her knees, dress pooling atop the rug.
You’re ashamed to admit the position has a bit of an effect on you. But who could blame you? Anyone would be flustered if Cairo Sweet was looking up at them like that…
It’s a little awe inspiring, seeing Cairo so, desperate. You’re not sure what’s brought this all on, but the cold cut Cairo you once knew has disappeared completely from the equation.
“Cairo.” You hiss, eyes darting between the door and the girl in front of you, praying that no one comes in.
“What’s it gonna take for you to go on a date with me?” She whines again, reaching for your shirt cuffs for something to hang onto.
There’s a swoosh and a quiet “oh!” that brings your attention back to the door.
Mr. Miller.
He stands somewhat awkwardly, smiling the type of smile that somehow indicates he’s unhappy. His eyes narrow when he notices it’s Cairo on the floor, his beloved teacher’s pet.
Okay, now you really need Cairo to get up. You support (force) her up and onto half of your chair, reprimanding her quietly as Miller walks past, coughing.
She straightens only slightly before settling once again on your lap, claiming it’s more comfortable and “a more suitable place for her to focus on her studies”.
“Why don’t you just sit at your desk, hm?” You point at the table, a single chair, smack dab in the middle of the classroom, in front of Mr.Miller. She was such a nerd.
She stares back at you blankly, big brown eyes making you a little distracted.
“That’s not mine.” She says, and you breathe out a laugh. The tension breaks. Her eyes crinkle lightly at the sound.
“You’re so weird.” You mumble, but allow her to sit further into your lap, no doubt much more comfy than her previous position.
“Can I sit here the rest of the class?” She asks, a little bashfully. You give her a pointed look, but nod nonetheless.
“Whatever you want.” You tell her, and she seems happy with that, taking her laptop and notebook out, ready to learn.
You see her lock eyes with Mr. Miller, who looks very confused. She smiles shyly and breaks the contact by nudging herself into the crook of your neck.
Oh.
Maybe all this was just to make Mr.Miller jealous.
You frown at the disturbing thought. Cairo’s breath tingles your skin as she tilts her head up so her lips are right beside your ear. The sensation makes you shiver, quite unwillingly.
“Now will you go on a date with me?” She whispers, huskily. Her confidence has returned, cocky like the Cairo you know so well.
You weigh your options.
You do really want her to get away from Mr.Miller…it might be a good time to slap some sense into the young girl.
“Alright.” You say curtly, already regretting your decision.
Cairo removes herself from your neck, smiling wide. For a second it quells your anxieties, her milky white pearls blinding.
She turns back as more students start filing in, ready yet again to learn.
You can’t focus for the duration of the class, mind wandering. Valentine’s day was tomorrow, what were you going to say? What were you going to do?
You stay quiet until class ends and all the way while you walk her back to her home. Cairo pokes at you a couple times to try and get you out of your head.
“Don’t forget flowers!” Cairo teasingly yells from ahead of you, already one foot into her house. You straighten up, dumbly answer with a “You got it!” and a face palm once she’s out of sight.
-
Okay. This was it. Last night was spent toiling on your bed, writing a script of what you’ll tell Cairo, prepared lillies- her favorite flowers, and a batch of the best things you could possibly find in your fridge.
Bread, butter, freshly sliced tomatoes, lettuce, and two slices of turkey left, you’re all ready and set.
The script is tucked away into the back pocket of your jeans, snug and cozy. It radiates warmth that makes you think it’d be terribly rude to ever take it out.
You sit down onto the grass, arms on both sides straightened, palms rubbing uncomfortably with the tablecloth.
“I shouldn’t be this nervous.” You remind yourself, but it does almost nothing to quell your worries.
You can’t keep lying to yourself, the truth swims in your head and you’re afraid it’s going to leave your lips the second Cairo arrives. You aren’t nervous about the letter, or anything to do with Mr.Miller. In fact, you’re nervous about the date.
A tiny part of you, no matter how much you try and shun it away, hopes that, maybe, just maybe, if Cairo liked this date, she might start liking you.
The minutes count themselves down too fast, and it’s almost time. You sit straighter, checking your shirt for any wrinkles.
You see a tiny figure make it’s way onto the lawn, and you have to bite back a smile when you realize it’s Cairo.
She looks almost shy as she walks up to you, twiddling with her thumbs.
It’s like a wave washes over you when you finally see her up close. She’s wearing a gray turtleneck, with a denim jacket over it, hair all nice and wavy. She looks unbelievably good.
It takes a second for you to grab your bearings and act like you weren’t just blatantly staring at her.
“You look beautiful.” You say, as casual as you can muster, and Cairo breaks out into a smile. You notice she’s wearing water liner, and it makes your knees feel like jelly. She’s only ever done makeup like this once, during your school dance, and it had all but made you swoon.
“Yeah?” She muses, mindlessly. Bending down and sitting on your makeshift picnic cloth.
“Yeah.” You breathe, even though you can tell she didn’t really need an answer to that. She reaches for your face, pushing a stray hair back.
“You look good too.” Is what she comments, all soft like.
You’re a little ashamed to admit you dressed up particularly for this occasion. Some rosy pink blush, your favorite lipstick just for her.
You cough awkwardly, and it breaks you both out of your trance. You reach for the food and serve her her plate.
You get a good while into talking and laughing that you bring up Mr. Miller.
“So…do you have your eye on anybody right now?” You ask nonchalantly, pretending like you haven’t mapped this whole conversation out in your head a million times.
Something flashes in her eyes but it disappears so quick you can’t tell what it is.
“You know you can tell me anything,right?” You tell her, and you mean it. Whatever or whoever it was, you’d be fine with it. You wouldn’t just stop being friends with her because of complicated feelings. She mattered more to you than that.
She bites her lip, then speaks quick, like she has to get it out before she overthinks too much.
“Yeah I am interested in someone. In this school, actually.” She says.
You feel your heart drop to your ass, you’d hoped against hope that the rumor wasn’t true- but with this new information, it had to be.
So much for ‘being okay with anything.’ That’s it. It’s over for me.
“Oh?” You try and ask, but it comes out as a little squeak. Cairo shoots you a weird look, but continues telling you about it.
“Yeah…I really like her. I just, I don’t know if I should pursue it.” She purses her lips.
Now it’s really time for your heart to flip. Her? Did she say ‘her?’
“Yeah, I did.” She confirms, small smirk playing on her crimson lips.
“Shit, did I say that out loud?” You ask her, cheeks heating up immediately. She gives you a quick nod.
Oh god.
“You like a girl?” You ask again, disbelieving.
This time she huffs, sounding almost impatient.
“Yes, I like a girl.” She says, exasperated, with a bit of bite in her tone. Something defensive and possibly jealous stirs up in you fast and quick. Why does she look annoyed?
You can’t help but answer in the same way.
“Okay, so who is it that you like so much?” You ask pointedly. The fire in her eyes that was there just moments before simmers, and just like that, she reverts back to her normal self. It’s almost concerning how she does it so quick, like the flip of a switch.
She suddenly looks nervous again. You give her a small encouraging nod, take her hand in yours as support. They tremble slightly.
“I like you. And I know you probably-” She continues but all you can hear are the echos of her first statement.
I like you. I like you. I like you.
I like you.
You retract from her hands, surprised beyond belief. You regret it immediately when her smile drops.
Her mouth is moving rapidly, and you use the best of your abilities to try and hear what she’s saying.
“I mean why do you think I even begged you on this date? I swear your head is so thick-“ Her words pass through your ears in intervals, and finally, after she’s done, and looking at you expectedly, all you can do is croak out a weak, “You don’t have a crush on Mr. Miller?”
Cairo blinks once, twice.
“What?” But there’s no fear or judgement or any hint of any emotion except disbelief.
Huh, so she didn’t know about the rumor.
“Who said I have a crush on Mr.Miller?” She asks, nose scrunching in disgust. You sigh, looking up to the sky and thanking god.
At this revelation, you’re elated. You scooch just a tad closer and tell her about the rumor. When you’re done, you expect someone shocked, or weirded out, but all she does is letout a hefty laugh.
“God, just because I like a class doesn’t mean I want to fuck the teacher.” She smiles, and you marvel in the way she’s able to shake it off so easy. She’s always been like that, carefree.
You let your mind wander to what she said before. She turns her head to look at the scenery, allowing you guys to sit in comfortable silence.
You say her name, a simple sound, but it makes her look up into your eyes, curious.
“Did you really mean what you said? You like me?” You ask, soft.
She gives an adamant nod, assuring she really does. God, you could not focus right now. She looks so pretty.
“I like you too. Like, a lot.” You breathe, and watch as her eyes sparkle.
“Really?” She blinks, in a state of vulnerability you’ve never seen. You can’t believe that she wouldn’t believe it. You give her the same nod, grin breaking out on your face.
“Can I kiss you?” She asks, gaze fluttering between your eyes and your lips.
It’s all you’ve ever wanted- you can’t even speak.
Her kiss isn’t what you’ve always imagined. Something soft, something gentle. That’s how it always was with the first kiss. You should’ve guessed long ago Cairo wasn’t just anyone.
She surges in, grabbing your face tight like if she lets go you’ll disintegrate. She’s so rough, and you can’t get enough of it. She climbs over your body and settles in your lap, grabbing the collar of your shirt to deepen the kiss.
You break away when it gets too much, both of you panting. Her cheeks are now another shade of pink you can be proud of causing; her hair messed up in a way that makes you want to grab her and kiss her again. And so you do.
You guys stay like that, laughing and talking and kissing till it’s dark out.
“It’s a good thing I forced you on this date, isn’t it?” She muses, rolling in your arms.
You giggle, high from the endorphins.
“You didn’t force me, it was a two person thing.” You try and justify, hoping she doesn’t think you didn’t want the date.
“It’s sweet of you to say that, but we both know you would’ve never asked me out.” She tells you, booping her nose against yours.
“Oh shut up.” And you take her lips in another kiss before she can retort.
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peaches-creek · 6 months
Text
When he walks through the door, you are cooking. Smells like something Italian but maybe not. He hears the bubbling of a pot and a searing of a pan. He crouches as he takes off his boots, caked in dirt and stinking of something foreign. He can’t greet you after a month like this, covered in grease and smelling of gunpowder and sweat. You heard him drop his duffle bag. He hears do drop the spoon you were using and the pitter-patter of your feet coming to greet him. Your smiling face turns the corner.
“You’re home.” You gently say as you walk over to him. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him into your arms with his face in your neck. You pull his mask off and give a kiss to his temple.
“I smell.” He says.
“Everyone smells,” she quips, “lemme hold you for a minute.” He lets her do exactly that.
After a minute or so he tells her she needs to finish cooking, and that he needs to shower. They can have a meal together and then take a well deserved nap together.
While he’s in the shower he takes his time decompressing. Trying to become Simon after a month of being Lt. Ghost. He thinks of what you might be cooking instead of the mistake he made that almost costed Price his life. He uses your conditioner and gingerbread body wash, knowing that you wouldn’t mind. You never do. It shocks him, every time, when he thinks of how much you Love him. You know what he does, and you still call him your “cutie-patootie.”
By the time he’s out of the shower, dinner is on the table, warm and on his favorite blue plates. You made him lemon breaded chicken and garlic parmesan pasta, his second favorite dish, first being his mother’s meatloaf.
“You smell familiar.” You laugh.
“This smells great,” he states, “not as good as me though.”
You place a kiss on his lips.
“Okay now that you have kissed the chef, you may eat your meal.” You move to the other side of the table, sitting across from him.
“Catch me up, what did I miss?” He says.
You spend the next half an hour talking his ear off as he shovels food into his face. He prefers that, not only does he like hearing your voice but it also helps him settle in. Hearing all the things that you did around the house, putting up new pictures, the ones that you took when you guys went to see the Eiffel Tower. You also got a few new plants, and told him that you waited for him to get home so you could name them together. You also said how you started watching some new documentary that he had to see.
He spent his whole life moving from one place to another, barely living. Now he has you. You move him and he moves you. Once he was finished with his plate, you took it to the sink and placed it on top of the others, you can do those later, it’s time to put your man to bed. He deserves it.
“Okay now, let’s get you to bed.” You pull him up and drag him to your shared bed. It’s quite a funny thing to see, such a large man getting dragged through the halls just to be tucked into bed.
You reach your destination. You let go of his hand and pull the covers back. You settle yourself in first, waving your hand to tell him to come in. You then maneuver him to put his head on your chest.
“All settled in?” You ask. He nods his head. No words needed. He was exactly where he needed to be. You begin to rub his back as he slowly finds himself falling into a sweet sleep, courtesy of you.
2K notes · View notes
bi-writes · 5 months
Text
bestfriend!rooommate!simon finds out you've been lying.
more bff!roommate!simon (part 8/?)
cw: mature language and content, suggestive language and content, mean!simon (verbally), size kink (simon can move the reader easily, described as much bigger), praise kink, the mask doesn't come off, oral (m!receiving), fem!receiving touching, cumplay, soft!dom!simon, reader uses simon to get herself off (because there is no universe in which simon doesn't return his girl's favor), pet names (including pet and kitty)
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you lied.
if simon had his gloves off, his knuckles would be stark white from how hard he was gripping the mail in his hands.
neither of you had checked your mailbox in a while--simon had only returned a few days ago from the harsh winter of northern russia after weeks away, and you seemingly had been busy with work. so busy, simon noticed very quickly, that you spent morning to late at night in your red and white uniform, coming home in the dead of night just to crash and do it all again the next morning.
now he held all the letters in his hand. stacks of them, with angry red stamps bleeding into the white of the envelopes.
NOTICE
WARNING
PAST DUE
LAST NOTICE
he stopped breathing for a moment. he spread the letters out on the table, flipping through each of them. he didn't open them, of course but these were all your bills. cell phone, last month's half of the rent, credit cards, your name written on the back and ugly red warnings pasted over it.
simon had spoken to you while he was gone. he had called you once, twice at least, and all he remembered was your soft voice telling him you missed him, to be careful, that you screwed up a new cookie recipe that you promised you would perfect before he got home.
you hadn't said a thing. your voice had been even and gentle as always. your voice had been comforting, saying only encouraging words. if simon was honest, your voice put him at ease; you always told him something to calm him, something to uplift him.
"i'm so proud of you, simon."
"i hate that you're gone, but there's no one else that could do what you do."
"um...hah...love you. be careful."
you hadn't said a word. your voice didn't reveal an ounce of the stress and the weight that must've been hanging over your head. there was no falter in your words, no strain as you spoke. just pretty, perfect, beautiful you, easing simon's demons while you battled some of your own.
simon crumpled one of the envelopes in his hands. it was thick with papers, but he still forced it into a ball, tossing it back onto the table angrily. he gripped the edge of the table, white knuckling it until he heard the key in the lock.
it was quiet as you came inside. you shut the door and locked it behind you, setting down your bag and taking off your jacket. it was morning; you had worked the night shift. your eyes were drawn low, tired and a dull. you said nothing as you toed off your shoes, letting your sneakers settle under the table. it was then that you noticed simon just sitting there, still, with his hands folded in front of him.
and all of your bills scattered around him.
you sucked in a shaky breath, looking up into his eyes. they were trained low, on the letters surrounding him, but he glared, boring a whole through them. he didn't know where to focus his anger; you were precious, you could do no wrong, you were soft and warm and his, and it wasn't your fault that everything was so expensive, that you were struggling.
but it was your fault that you hadn't said a thing--that you hadn't asked for help.
"simon, i...i-i can explain."
"no. y'r not gonna talk, luv." you had never heard his voice this way. so low and gravelly, an eerie lilt to it that reeked of disappointment and somehow betrayal. "y'r gonna sit down. now."
simon roughly pulled the chair from beside him out, an unspoken command for you to take a seat. your bottom lip trembled as you slumped into the chair, watery eyes avoiding his.
"how long?"
"simon--"
you jumped as he slammed a hand down on the table. the entirety of it shook, the papers ruffling and the dishes clattering loudly.
"a few months! a-a few months, just--"
"no!" simon snapped. "y'lied to me. y'lied to me! i asked! how many times have i asked?! how many times have i looked you in the fuckin' eye and asked you if everythin' was in order, how many fuckin' times?!"
you couldn't keep it in. the tears were hot, running down your cheeks and putting salt on your lips and a dryness in your throat. you were embarrassed. embarrassed that you needed help, ashamed that you were being scolded like a child, afraid of his loud voice and his terrible anger and the way he looked at you. when you decided to live together, you weren't meant to be his burden. you didn't intend to be his problem.
"i-i'm sorry, simon--i'm sorry..." you met his eyes. "i'm taking extra shifts. i-i'm gonna pay the bills, i-i'm gonna make it right, i-i swear--"
"is that what you think this is?"
he narrowed his eyes at you, two dark slits, and then as if a switch flipped, it was gone. his face softened, his eyes widening, and the tension seemed to dissipate just enough to let you breathe a little easier. you couldn't decipher this change, and you couldn't read what was in his eyes, not this time. all you could was sit there and try not to let your cries make any sound.
"do y'think i'm angry because y'didn't pay? is that what y'think?"
you shook your head, shrugging, not understanding his question.
"what...what other reason is there, s-simon?" you hiccuped. "i screwed..." more tears, they wouldn't stop falling, "i-i screwed up, simon, i-i'm so sorry, i-i--"
you jumped when his chair screeched against the floor. he stood up fast, taking a step to round the table to crouch beside your chair. he looked up at you, making himself smaller, and you looked down.
"simon, i'm sorry--"
"stop! stop fuckin' apologizing, fuck," simon interrupted you. his voice was gentle, trying not to scare you, and you closed your mouth, taking in deep, shaking breaths to try and center yourself. "'m angry because you didn't talk to me, luv--" your face fell when he reached up, two gloved hands cupping your puffy cheeks, "--why didn't you say anything? why didn't you tell me? why didn't you ask me for help?"
you sniffled, reaching up and caressing his wrists gently. you played with the edges of his gloves, your fingers skimming the hem of his sleeves and just barely teasing the bare skin under it.
"simon...how could i?" you asked, as if it was obvious. "after everything that's happened...after everything we've been through...h-how could i ask that of you?" "how could you not?" simon spit back, and when you tried to pull away, he tightened his grip on your cheeks. "no, no--look at me--" he rose up on his knees, pressing your forehead to his, "look at me."
your expression was pained, struggling to do as he asked, but eventually your eyes fluttered, meeting his own, and he grunted as he gripped the back of your neck and held you there.
nowhere to go. nowhere to run. no one else.
"y'r not my problem. not my burden," he muttered. "y'r m'responsibility. mine to take care of."
"i-i don't want you to have to do that--"
"what the fuck do y'think this is?" he breathed. "what we have, what this is, this is forever, has that not gotten through y'r bloody head?" you whimpered when he shook you a little, his hand in your hair as he pulled it tight. "y'r as good as mine. not up for discussion."
you swallowed hard as his hands came down, wiping the tears off your face. he brushed your hair back and away, so he could see you, and you smiled at him sadly, eyes glossy and bright.
"'m gonna take care of the flat from now on, yeah?" simon murmured. "'m gonna take care of everything."
your body visibly relaxed. your shoulders fell, your body sinking a little more into the chair, and there was something sweet in your eyes--something hopeful. simon's tone was definite, and there was no room for arguing. you nodded finally, leaning in slowly, pressing a delicate kiss to where his lips would be under the mask. his thumb swiped over your cheek, falling to trace the line of your jaw, and then you both closed your eyes at the same time.
there was an understanding here. it was as if simon was washing you clean--something refreshing and warm and gentle running down the length of you, rinsing whatever was hurting you right down some sort of sickening void that had gripped you so tightly. and he did it so easily--he did it without even blinking.
and it was easy. simon never hesitated with you. his money rotted in an account anyways--it sat and stared at him, reminding him of the kind of hell he had gone through just to get it. it reminded him of the half of him that was someone, the half of him that he hated, the half of his being that came from a wretched, horrid, terrifying thing that manifested itself somewhere in his blood.
simon was half of something foul, and maybe he couldn't make up for the part of him that he didn't think was human, but he could make up for this, make up for you, make up for whatever half of you had left you here. because that was what you deserved--you deserved to be taken care of, you deserved not to worry, you deserved to sleep in soft sheets and eat until your belly was full and smile so much that your cheeks ached, and if simon had to become someone else just to give it to you, if simon had to die and come back again, then that was exactly what he would do.
simon had died once already. simon had seen it--seen how empty and unfulfilling and quiet it had been. simon had seen another side, and you didn't belong there. you belonged somewhere warm. somewhere a little noisy, a little bright, familiar.
it hadn't always been this way. when simon first met you, it hadn't been a good day--simon wore bruises, and you wore blood, and it was in that instant moment of understanding that made it clear you would be bound forever.
something invisible threaded you together. and simon had pulled himself out of his early grave, and after he had done it, you were the only thing that remained. and he hated himself--he hated himself for thanking some unspoken thing, because his entire family was gone, but you weren't gone, you were still here, there was still sunlight in your eyes and laughter in your voice and you were still warm.
it should've tasted sour to be grateful for it. he wanted to hate himself for this feeling. he deserved to die again and not return, but then he wouldn't get to see you anymore, and the selfish part of him, the other half of him, would never give you up willingly.
this love was visceral. this love was going to kill him. he was going to die with you on his mind, but maybe that would be the only thing worth really dying for.
because there you are. big, pretty eyes gazing up at him--fuck, why does she look at me like that?
why does she look at me like i mean something?
why isn't she afraid?
why can't i push her away?
what the fuck is wrong with me?
his beautiful girl. his pretty little roommate. the woman with flowers for eyes and silk as skin and a mind filled with starlight. the sweetheart pushing him to sit, forcing him backwards, getting on her knees in between his legs. and then her hands were on his thighs, sliding up against the rough denim as she laid one side of her face against it, those petals in her eyes trained on the way that his pants seemed to get tighter with every drag of her delicate fingers up his thighs.
and then she was pushing up his hoodie, exposing the relaxed muscle of his stomach, and then she was kissing it. soft lips warming the solid middle of him, a knowing smile growing on her face as she felt him twitch and jump and grunt. and then those beautiful eyes were looking back up at him, her neck tilted back as she undid his jeans and nestled the hem of them just low enough for her to reach in and fuck--
you knew simon was beautiful everywhere. you knew that there was no part of him that wasn't perfect. you couldn't remember being particularly religious, but kneeling in front of him felt like devotion--and you had much to confess.
he was thick, heavy, a weight in your hand that had you drooling without so much as seeing him. you were looking at the red tip of him with eyes half-lidded, and it took everything in you not to take him all at once. but this was simon, this was your version of perfect, and you needed to show simon how much you felt because words were not enough.
words would never be enough.
you started slow. you dipped your head, your eyes flicking up to watch him as you caressed the base of him with a wet kiss. you squeezed your legs together when you noticed his dark eyes roll back into his head for a second, a pained, pleasured reaction, and then you did it again.
a soft lick, the edge of your tongue sliding over a protruding vein on the underside of his length, and you closed your own eyes for a moment to revel in the deep groan that simon uttered. you sighed deeply, keeping your thighs squeezed together to relieve the sudden ache between them, before flattening your tongue and guiding it up his length. simon cursed under his breath, his hands gripping his thighs tight--but one of his hands flew to the back of your head when your greedy little mouth sucked the tip of him into your mouth.
you moaned softly, tasting the edge of him, something so simon and pleasant. a little precum, warm, flowing onto your tongue. you whimpered when you felt his fingers tangle into your hair, gripping you for stability as you sucked him in.
"christ, luv--" just the sound of him so pleased was enough to have you dripping, "fuck--'s so good, 's perfect--"
she was so beautiful. she was perfect. of course she would be good at sucking him off, of course she would have the prettiest tongue and the warmest mouth, and of course she would have one hand wrapping around the base of him as the other slipped between her legs--
"fuck--y'r gettin' off on this, yeah?" he grunted, his eyes flashing with something dark. "'f course you are, such a good girl--"
good girl, good girl, i'm a good girl--
just as slow as it began, as quick as you became. one moment you were cool, composed, watching simon's eyes and listening to his voice as you tried to memorize what pleasure sounded like when it came from him, and the next moment you were sliding him further into your mouth, drool dripping down your jaw as precum spread across your teeth. he was so big--so much to take, but the strain in your jaw tomorrow would have to be a welcome side effect to making lieutenant simon riley cum down your throat.
so sloppy, what a mess you were making. simon's hand now cupped the side of your head, your hair in some makeshift updo as he guided you along his length. the sounds were filthy--soft, slobbering noises as you took simon just a little further down your throat, your tongue being careful to tease the slit of him, slipping between the fold of it to illicit the most gorgeous of moans out of him.
"fuckin' hell--the mouth of a fuckin' angel--"
"such a pretty girl...such a pretty sight...makin' such a mess, sweetheart..."
"y'like it, yeah? y'like it...y'r so pretty...s'pretty, luv, nnngh--th's it, just like that--"
and now you were bouncing pathetically onto your hand. you pressed your hand into the floor, trapping your thighs over it as you tried desperately to grind down on something as you sucked warmly on simon's length. just as you let out a frustrated whine, simon's boot knocked your hand out of the way, slipping the steel toe of it right there, right--oh!
you cried out as the tip of his boot pushed right up against your cunt. the perfect spot, right against your aching clit, because simon never missed--simon always hit his target, whether it was between the eyes of some muppet who had his gun aimed at johnny or exactly where to touch his girl to make her drool. and drool she did--with her mouth stuffed full of him, with her slick wetting her thighs, with that look in her eyes that could make any man lose his fucking mind.
and simon was losing it, he was crazy. he soothed the back of your neck, grunting and hissing and wetting the fabric of his mask with the way he spat and cursed for you. but how could he help himself? the most beautiful girl in the world was on her knees, looking at him like she was at the alter. confessing her sins, receiving her absolution, taking every bit of it like the good girl she was, is.
he was so pretty. he tasted so good. you could only see his eyes, but it was more than enough, you didn't need anything more. the way he scrunched them open and shut, the low drawl of his voice as he said your name--he was perfect. his cock filled your mouth so nicely; he was using you, but you didn't feel used.
you wanted this. you wanted him. you wanted him to put you between his legs, wanted him to finally feel something other than that sick, twisted ache in his bones.
you lifted your hand, the one that had been buried between your thighs, and you cupped the underside of him with them. the wet, sticky warmth of your fingers had simon choking on a breath, hissing when you began to work the length of him that you couldn't fit in your mouth.
"jesus fuckin' christ--!"
his chest was heaving, rising up and down as he scratched at your scalp and cupped the underside of your jaw. then he bent low, smoothing a gloved hand down your throat, needing to feel the way it constricted, the way you swallowed, the feel of your skin and the vibrations as you whimpered and moaned around the thick of him.
you were suckling so sweetly, letting pools of drool and precum slip past your lips and drip along your chin, your hands, against his boot. simon was getting close--you could tell by the way he tugged on your hair and the faltering of his breaths. and he was talking--talking so much, blubbering.
"aye, sweetheart--th's it..."
"fuckin' hell...nnnghh...feel like bloody heaven..."
"...see you in m'dreams, luv...aghh! fuck--fuck, fuck, fuck--"
you didn't think there was anything more attractive than watching simon lose control. but you weren't doing much better. as you sucked the salt from his cock, you slid your hips over his boot to relieve the ache between your thighs even just a little. you thought maybe it was a pathetic sight, but you couldn't bring yourself to care. you fit your cunt right up against him, nestling the tip of his toes against your clit so you could rock back and forth, soaking the leather with you.
simon grunted, chuckling a bit to himself as you watched you suck a little harder, a little sloppier, move your hips a little messier. you were like a sweet, doe-eyed puppy--all big eyes and soft mewls and nothing inside your head except suck, suck, suck--
you whined when he came into your mouth. you held out your tongue, massaging the middle of his cock as he dripped along your mouth, your lips, under your tongue, against your chin. and like the messy little girl you were, you kept suckling on the tip until simon gripped you by the back of the head and lifted you up off the ground, grunting as he roughly manhandled you into his lap.
"little kitty can't help herself...what a fuckin' mouth on ya..."
and then his fingers were gathering the cum on your face and slipping it back into your mouth--just as the fingers on his other hand plunged inside of you.
he was deep, thick gloved fingers taking up even more space, stretching your pulsing, gummy cunt as you gripped his shoulders and cried. little tears coming down your face as you chased that blissful high, begging simon to give it, give it, you need it.
it didn't take much. just a few rough touches of your puffy clit, and you were soaking his gloves, whining as you pressed your cheek to his and mumbled how good he felt, how everything hurt so nice.
a pounding, aching thing that was gone in a matter of seconds, throwing you in a pleasure-drunk mood, with your head rest against his shoulder and your breaths coming out heavy and languid.
your eyes fluttered, but your vision was just clear enough that you could see simon lift the front of his mask. you caught the line of deep scar, something a healed and vicious against his pretty face. then it was gone, replaced by the sight of him slipping his gloved fingers into his mouth and sucking on them, pink tongue coming out to taste them as he slurped at the gooey mess you made on them.
you saw the slightest hint of a smirk before the fabric came back down again.
"'s alright, pet--" simon's voice was low, a drawl to it that made his accent a bit more pronounced. and just as your eyes fluttered shut completely--
"'m right here, kitty."
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