#to make as many as they want. it sounds good it looks good

[pucksandpower]

Wagification

Max Verstappen x analyst!Reader

Summary: your job was slowly crushing your soul and stealing your sanity … until Max showed you the pleasure to be found in letting yourself be cherished and cared for (or in which a chronically overworked Sky Sports analyst becomes a WAG)

Monaco Grand Prix, 2025

You take a deep breath as you step out of the car, the Monaco sunshine bright and warm on your face. Max comes around and takes your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“You ready for this?” He asks, his eyes searching yours.

You nod, though your stomach is fluttering with nerves. It’s been nearly a year since you were last at a Grand Prix, and so much has changed. You glance down at the massive diamond on your left hand, still not quite used to seeing it there.

Max kisses your temple. “Don’t worry, I’ll be right by your side the whole time.”

Hand-in-hand, you make your way into the paddock. Immediately you’re assaulted by the familiar sights and sounds — mechanics yelling, engines revving, reporters gesturing to their cameras. It’s like you never left.

You keep your sunglasses on and your head down, hoping to avoid notice. The last thing you want is to be bombarded by your old coworkers. As a data analyst for Sky Sports F1, you knew everyone in the paddock. But you walked away from it all for Max and you aren’t sure what kind of reception awaits you now.

“Max! Max Verstappen!” You hear a female voice call out. You suppress a groan as you recognize it as belonging to Emma, one of the network’s top reporters. She hurries over, dictaphone in hand. “Max, can I get a quick interview for the pre-race show?”

“Sure,” Max says easily. He keeps holding your hand, drawing you forward. “Just make it quick, yeah?”

Emma nods, then seems to notice you for the first time. “I’m so sorry, I don’t mean to be rude. I’m Emma Walsh, with Sky Sports.” She sticks her hand out with a friendly smile.

You hesitate a second before shaking her hand. “Y/N,” you say simply, not offering your last name.

Emma’s eyes widen behind her glasses and she leans in for a closer look. “Wait a minute, I know you ...” Her jaw drops open. “Y/N Y/L/N? Is that you?”

You give a little shrug. “Yeah, it’s me.”

“Oh my god!” Emma practically shouts. “I can’t believe it! We all thought you fell off the face of the earth after you left Sky. What happened to you?”

Max slides an arm around your waist. “She fell for me,” he says with a grin.

Emma’s eyes bug out even more as she takes in your designer dress, heels, and rock on your finger. “You mean … you and Max ...”

You nod, feeling yourself blush. “About a year ago, yeah.”

“Wow.” Emma shakes her head in disbelief. “Just … wow. I mean, look at you! You look incredible!”

You smooth your hands self-consciously over your dress. Your style has certainly changed since your Sky Sports days of sensible pantsuits. As an analyst, you had lived in jeans, flats, and minimal makeup, your hair always pulled back in a simple ponytail. Now your hair falls in soft waves over your shoulders, and you’re wearing a floaty floral maxi dress and strappy heels. You went from broadcasting racing stats to being a WAG almost overnight.

“Thanks,” you say, your cheeks growing even warmer. “It’s really good to see you, Emma.”

“You too!” She grins. “I have so many questions, but I better let you go for now. Don’t want to keep the championship leader waiting.” She winks at Max. “We’ll catch up later, yeah? Drinks tonight to celebrate your return?”

“Sure, sounds good.” You smile, thankful she’s not pressing for more details now. Emma waves and heads off in search of her next interview.

Max keeps his arm around you as you continue through the paddock. “See, that wasn’t so bad,” he murmurs.

You let out a shaky laugh. “One down, about a hundred more to go.”

Over the next hour you run into what feels like every person you used to work with. They all react with similar shock at the former paddock nerd turned glamorous girlfriend of the reigning four-time World Champion.

You chat briefly with Will, who stutters over his words and goes bright red when you say hello. He had the biggest crush on you back when you worked together. Sarah can’t stop gushing over your ring. Tom tells you how weird it is not to see you hunched over a laptop crunching numbers.

The encounters leave you feeling drained, but also relieved. Your old coworkers seem genuinely happy for you, not resentful like you had worried. They don’t pry too much into how exactly you went from reporting race stats to ending up with Max Verstappen. That’s a story for another time.

Eventually you make it to the Red Bull garage, where you let out a long breath. “Phew, I survived.”

Max grins and pulls you close. “You were amazing. And you look beautiful, as always.” He nuzzles your neck.

You smile and loop your arms around his shoulders. “Have I mentioned how happy I am whenever I’m with you?”

“Mmm, maybe once or twice.” Max kisses you softly. “But feel free to keep reminding me.”

“Ahem.” Christian Horner clears his throat from behind you. “If you two can pause the PDA for a moment, we have a race to focus on.”

You spring apart, blushing furiously at being caught by Max’s team principal. Max just laughs and slings an arm around your shoulders.

“Lighten up, Christian. I’m allowed to kiss my fiancée.”

Christian shakes his head, but he’s fighting a smile. “Indeed you are. But perhaps when there aren’t cameras around?” He nods over your shoulder.

You turn to see several photographers zooming in, no doubt dying to get shots of the paddock’s newest it couple. You bury your face in Max’s shoulder.

“Ugh, no privacy anywhere,” you grumble.

Max kisses your hair. “It’s not so bad. Just part of the deal when you’re with me, remember?”

You smile up at him. “Very true. And I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”

The day passes in a blur of activity. Max has various sponsor obligations and media commitments. You stick close by his side, learning how to avoid the cameras and deflect the constant questions about your relationship. Being the center of attention still feels strange, but you’re getting better at handling it.

During Max’s autograph session, you chat with some of the other drivers’ girlfriends and wives. They give you tips on dealing with the madness. You’re touched by how kind and welcoming they are.

“It takes some getting used to,” Alex Albon’s girlfriend, Lily, says. “But once you figure out how to focus on what really matters, the rest just becomes background noise.”

You nod. Your priority is Max. Everything else is just part of the ride.

***

One Year Ago

You sink down onto a stack of tires behind the Red Bull motorhome, finally letting the tears fall. This weekend in Barcelona has been a nightmare so far. Your team at Sky Sports is chronically understaffed, so you’ve been working 18 hour days analyzing data and prepping stats graphics.

You’re exhausted, frustrated, and seriously questioning your career choices.

On top of that, you just found out that your coworker and boyfriend Jamie has been cheating on you for months with one of the new junior reporters. You feel like such an idiot for not realizing it sooner.

You just need a few minutes to yourself to cry it out before plastering a smile back on and soldiering through the rest of the weekend. You hear footsteps approaching and quickly dab at your eyes with your sleeve, but it’s too late.

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean to ...” The voice trails off awkwardly.

You glance up to see none other than Max Verstappen standing there, a look of concern on his face. Great. The last thing you need is Formula 1’s wunderkind catching you bawling behind the motorhome.

You scramble to your feet, trying to compose yourself. “Um, hi. No worries, I was just ...” You trail off, at a loss for how to explain.

Max steps closer, head tilted. “Are you okay? What’s wrong?”

His kindness makes the tears threaten again. You stare down at your scuffed sneakers, embarrassed.

“I’m fine, really. Just had a bad day. You know how it goes.” You force a weak laugh.

Max doesn’t seem convinced. “Here, come sit for a minute,” he says gently, guiding you back over to the stack of tires.

To your surprise, he sits down next to you in his designer jeans and Red Bull Racing hoodie like it’s no big deal. You would laugh if you weren’t still fighting more tears.

“I’m Max, by the way.” He smiles and holds out his hand.

You shake it weakly. “Yeah, I know. I mean, uh, I’m Y/N.” You blush. Smooth.

Max either doesn’t notice or is too polite to comment. “So Y/N, what has you so upset? Boyfriend troubles?” He raises an eyebrow knowingly.

You let out a watery chuckle. “Yeah, something like that. The idiot’s been cheating on me it turns out.” Saying it out loud makes the hurt swell back up.

Max shakes his head angrily. “What a dick. I don’t understand guys who treat girls like that. You deserve so much better, Y/N.”

The genuine outrage on your behalf makes you smile a bit through the tears. “Thanks, Max. I appreciate that.”

He nods. “Any guy would be lucky to have a girl as pretty and smart as you. This loser doesn’t know what he’s lost.”

Now you really can’t help blushing. You’re used to being called a lot of things — nerdy, awkward, obsessive about stats — but no one’s ever called you pretty before. Especially not a kind, cute, and famous race car driver.

You dip your head, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear self-consciously. “You’re very sweet to say that.”

Max bumps your shoulder with his. “Just calling it like I see it.”

You chat for a few more minutes about nothing in particular. Max is easy to talk to, and makes you laugh with funny stories about mishaps in the garage. By the time you hear your boss calling your name, you’ve almost forgotten about Jamie and your tear-stained face.

“Shit, I have to get back to work,” you say, standing quickly and grabbing your laptop bag. “Thanks for listening, Max. I really appreciate you taking the time.”

“Of course.” Max stands too, shoving his hands in his pockets. He seems reluctant to end the conversation. “Hey, maybe I’ll see you around again this weekend?”

You give him a curious look, wondering why he’d want to see you again after witnessing that mess of emotions. But he looks sincere. “Yeah, maybe! I’m around if you need any stats analysis or data work.” You tap your temple. “Numbers nerd, at your service.”

Max grins. “Good to know. Take care, Y/N.” With a little wave, he heads off, leaving you staring after him in surprise.

The rest of the day you keep replaying those moments with Max in your head, unable to focus. Why did he seem so interested in a frumpy data analyst having a meltdown? You can’t make sense of it.

By the time qualifying ends on Saturday, you’re practically dead on your feet. Your eyelids keep drooping as you pack up your equipment. Maybe you’ll just sleep under your desk tonight instead of walking all the way to the hotel.

“Long day, huh?”

You jerk awake to see Max leaning in the doorway of your makeshift office, thumbs hooked in his pockets. He looks annoyingly energetic and put together compared to your disheveled state.

“Uh, yeah.” You smooth your hair back,feeling self-conscious. Why does he have to catch you looking like such a mess yet again? “Just have about a million graphics to finish before tomorrow’s broadcast. The glamorous life of a data analyst,” you say wryly.

Max frowns. “They keep you here this late doing all the work yourself?”

You sigh, rubbing your grainy eyes beneath your glasses. “Unfortunately yes. We’re way understaffed, but it’s not like they’ll give us more budget to hire help.”

Max shakes his head. “That’s unacceptable. You deserve so much better than this.”

The kindness in his voice makes you suddenly emotional again. You bite your lip, willing yourself not to tear up at work twice in one day.

“Thanks, Max. I’ll be okay though, once I get some sleep ...” You know you don’t sound convincing.

Max appears to think for a moment, his brow furrowed. “You know what, enough of this. Come on.”

Before you can react, he takes your hand and gently tugs you to your feet.

“W-what? Where are we going?” You stammer, heartbeat quickening.

“We’re getting out of here. You’re clearly exhausted and need a break.” Max keeps hold of your hand as he leads you from the office.

“But-but my work … I have to finish-” Even as you protest, you let him continue pulling you along. A rebellious part of you is thrilled at this sudden adventure.

“It can wait. Right now, we’re getting some food and drinks in you so you actually have energy left for tomorrow.” Max winks at you as you exit the paddock into the cool night air. “Trust me.”

And despite barely knowing this man, you realize you do trust him. Max guides you around the corner to a lively tapas bar, chatting all the while about random topics to make you laugh. He seems genuinely interested in getting to know you.

Over shared plates of patatas bravas and fizzy cocktails, you find yourself opening up to Max in a way you never do with people you just met. But his kindness and openness make you feel comfortable. He tells you more about life as an F1 driver, the pressures and perks.

“It must be amazing getting to travel all over the world racing cars,” you muse after your second cocktail. “Like a dream.”

“Part of it is, yeah.” Max smiles wryly. “But it can also be lonely. Never really putting down roots anywhere. Hard to meet people outside the racing bubble, you know?”

You nod thoughtfully. Under the playboy racer exterior, it seems there’s a down-to-earth guy who just wants connection. On impulse, you cover his hand with yours and give it a squeeze.

“Well, you’ve got a friend here now if you ever need company at a race.”

Max turns his palm over to link his fingers through yours. “I was hoping you’d say that.” His smile is so warm and genuine, you feel your cheeks heat.

By the time you stumble back to your hotel, you’re laughing and chatting with Max like old friends. When you get to your door though, you blink blearily and sway on your feet — the long day and alcohol hitting you hard.

Max steadies you with a hand on your waist. “Whoa there. You gonna make it okay?”

You wave a hand drunkenly. “Oh yeah, totally fiiiine ...” Your balance wavers again. Okay, maybe not so fine.

Max bites his lip, seeming to have an internal debate. “Alright, slight change of plans. You’re in no state to be left alone right now.”

In one smooth motion he scoops you up bridal-style. You make a very dignified squeaking noise and clutch his shoulders.

“Max! What are you doing?”

“Making sure you’re safe for the night.” He grins down at you. “You can stay in my suite where I can keep an eye on you.”

“But … people will think ...” Even tipsy, you know spending the night in Max Verstappen’s hotel room is probably a bad idea.

“Let them think whatever. I’m being a gentleman, I promise.” The sincerity in his eyes melts your feeble protests. You really are in no state to be left alone.

You sigh and rest your head on his shoulder. “Okay fine, you win. But just for tonight!”

Max chuckles, carrying you towards the elevator. “Deal. We’ll get you sobered up and rested for tomorrow.”

You have vague impressions of a plush suite, being tucked into cool satin sheets and handed water and pills for your headache. Max brushes hair off your face with a lingering touch. “Get some sleep, Y/N. I’m right next door if you need me.”

His kindness brings tears to your eyes again, but happy ones this time. As you drift off surrounded by his scent, you think dazedly that maybe this race weekend hasn’t been so terrible after all.

In the morning, waking up in Max Verstappen’s hotel bed, you at first think it was all some crazy dream. Then the smell of brewing coffee draws you out to the living room, where Max stands in the kitchenette.

“Morning! I ordered us some breakfast.” He hands you a mug, smiling softly.

Daylight streaming through the windows makes last night’s events seem even more surreal. You feel suddenly shy as memories return. A part of you wishes you could stay here in this peaceful bubble with him forever, away from the outside world.

But reality calls, as you both have jobs to return to. Max convinces you to eat some food and take more pain meds before he walks you back to your own room to shower and change.

At your door he pulls you into a gentle hug. “Take care of yourself today, okay Y/N? And if you need another break or company again, you know where to find me.” He presses a featherlight kiss to your forehead that sends tingles through your entire body.

Somehow you make it through the day fueled by Max’s kindness and the smallest hope this could lead to more. You catch sight of him striding through the paddock, fans clamoring for his attention. His eyes always seem to find you though, lighting up with that warm smile.

After the race, you’re back in your makeshift office trying not to fall asleep at your desk before the last minutes of broadcasts. When you walk outside into the golden hour sunset though, Max is waiting for you.

“So, ready for round two at the tapas place to celebrate my win?” He bumps your shoulder playfully.

You grin up at him, this beautiful boy who inexplicably wants to spend all his free moments with you. “Definitely. Bring on the croquetas.”

Laughing together, you start making your way there. And though you don’t know what this budding connection will lead to, you’re ready to find out.

***

Nine Months Ago

You snuggle deeper into Max’s arms with a contented sigh, resting your head on his chest. The lights are dim and music plays softly in the background of his hotel suite. Rain patters against the windows, making it the perfect night to get cozy indoors.

Being wrapped up with Max like this, away from the chaos of the race weekend, has become your favorite place to be over the past few months. After that impulsive first night in Barcelona when he took care of you, you started spending more and more time together.

What began as a supportive friendship soon turned into dates, kisses, and eventually becoming official boyfriend and girlfriend. You still can’t believe that Max Verstappen, Formula 1 superstar, wants to be with a plain data analyst like yourself. But from the way he looks at you — like you’re the most captivating person in the world — you don’t doubt his sincerity.

“Have I told you lately how beautiful you are?” Max murmurs, trailing his fingers slowly up and down your arm.

You smile and nuzzle his neck. “Mmm, I think you mentioned it once or twice.”

His hands drift up to stroke your hair and you practically purr, eyes drifting shut. Max kisses the top of your head. “I mean it though, Y/N. Being with you makes me so happy.”

You lift your head to meet his lips in a soft kiss. “You make me happy too, Max. I-” You cut off with an enormous yawn that you fail to stifle in time.

Max chuckles. “Am I boring you over here?”

“No no,” you insist around another yawn. “I just can’t seem to keep my eyes open tonight.”

It’s true. As blissful as you feel cuddled up with Max, you’re utterly exhausted. This weekend has been nonstop work with little sleep. By the time you wrapped the Sky broadcasts up for the night, you could barely see straight.

Max brushes a strand of hair back from your face, his expression growing serious. “You’re completely worn out, schatje. I hate seeing you push yourself to the breaking point like this.”

You give him a tired smile. “It’s okay, really. I’m used to the long hours by now. Occupational hazard.” It comes out less convincingly than you intended.

Max’s frown deepens. He shifts around to face you, cradling your cheek in his palm. “But you shouldn’t have to be used to it, Y/N. Your bosses take advantage of your dedication. It’s not right.”

You bite your lip, not meeting his earnest gaze. Deep down you know he’s correct, but you don’t know what else to do. This career has been your life for years now.

Max gently turns your face back to his. “You deserve so much better. You keep giving everything to this job and they just keep demanding more. When’s the last time you took a real break?”

You look down, feeling the prickle of tears. You can’t even remember your last vacation or rest day. “It’s okay, really ...” you whisper half-heartedly.

“No, it’s not.” Max’s voice is firm but caring. He tips your chin up to meet his eyes. “I can’t stand seeing you being taken advantage of. It makes me want to take care of you properly, the way you should be.”

Your breath catches at the intensity in his gaze. Being taken care of and cherished so deeply is new for you. You don’t know how to respond.

Max seems to take your silence as uncertainty. “Just think about it, liefje. You could finally put yourself first and do what makes you happy instead of what makes Sky Sports happy.” He caresses your cheek with his thumb. “Doesn’t a break to rest and recover sound nice?”

You close your eyes with a shaky exhale, admitting to yourself just how badly you need it. Your health and mental wellbeing have been steadily declining under the relentless stress.

“It really does sound nice,” you whisper. A few tears leak out beneath your lashes.

Max kisses them away tenderly, holding you close. “Shh I know, baby. You’re burning yourself out trying to do the impossible. Anyone would be exhausted.”

You cling to him, sniffling. “But it’s my job, my career. I can’t just walk away ...” Even as you say it, the prospect doesn’t seem as scary as it once did. Not if you get to have this, being wrapped in Max’s love and care.

“You can walk away from anything that’s making you suffer. You’re so much more than this job. And you’ll never have to worry or want for anything ever again.” His tone drips with promise.

You lean back to search his face. “What do you mean?”

Max smiles and brushes his nose against yours. “I mean, I’ll take care of you. If you leave your job to focus on yourself and our relationship, you will want for nothing. I’ll make sure of it.”

Your eyes go wide. “You mean … quit working altogether and just … be with you full time?”

Max nods, still smiling. “It can be that simple if you want. No more crazy hours and stress. Just let me spoil you and give you the life you deserve. What do you say?”

Your pulse races as you imagine it. No more coming home at 2 am and collapsing, living off vending machine snacks. Instead you could be leisurely mornings with Max, seeing the world together, doing activities you actually enjoy instead of endless stats analysis ...

It sounds idyllic. But could you really just stop working and let Max support you? Would people judge you for it?

As if reading your mind, Max says “Ignore whatever anyone else might think. This is about what’s right for you and makes you happy. I’m sure of this, Y/N. Please trust me.”

His eyes radiate so much love and certainty. Slowly you nod, feeling a weight lift from your chest.

“Okay,” you whisper. “If you’re sure then … I trust you, Max.”

Joy spreads across his face. He kisses you deeply, pouring all his feelings into it. When he finally pulls back you’re both breathless.

“You won’t regret this, schatje. I’m going to take such good care of you from now on.” Max strokes your hair, eyes shining. “No more exhaustion and stress. Just being together and enjoying life. It will be amazing.”

You truly believe it as you drift off, safe in his arms. No more pressure to single-handedly carry Sky Sports’ data analysis. From now on, you can just be his … and find yourself again.

The next day you take a deep breath and knock on your boss’ door. Within minutes, you’ve quit your job and ended a years long chapter. It feels bittersweet but right as you box up your belongings from your little makeshift office. This time when tears prick your eyes, they’re from overwhelming relief.

Max is waiting to pick you up, greeting you with a spinning hug and long kiss. “I’m so proud of you. You’re going to be so much happier and healthier from now on, I just know it.”

You hug him tight, burying your face in his neck. “I already feel lighter. This was the right choice.”

And it truly is. As you jet off to a tropical island just the two of you that weekend, it feels like a new life.

The days pass in a dreamy haze — sleeping in, long massages, breakfast in bed courtesy of Max, sunset walks on the beach holding hands. He delights in pampering you with gifts, gourmet meals, and your every whim met often before you even speak it.

“I could get used to this,” you sigh contentedly as you lounge together in a cabana, sipping fruity cocktails.

Max smiles and nuzzles your neck. “That’s the idea. You’ll never lift a finger except when you want to from now on.”

It amazes you how he transforms from fierce competitor on the track to this caring, protective boyfriend behind closed doors. He seems to find his greatest happiness in making sure you’re thoroughly spoiled.

You do occasionally think of the drastic shift your life has taken. But any flicker of doubt is erased by Max’s love and devotion. He’s given you freedom from exhaustion and anxiety. You’ve never felt more adored.

“I don’t know what I did to deserve you,” you whisper one night as you sway together on the balcony under the stars, your silk robe fluttering around you.

Max gazes at you like you hold the secrets of the universe. “You just had to be yourself, schatje. That’s all I’ll ever need.”

He takes your breath away with slow, passionate kisses until you meltingly agree to take things inside. Your first time together is everything you imagined and more.

Afterwards, lying entwined with Max stroking your hair, you have never felt more whole. You found in each other what you needed most — care, understanding, and unwavering love.

This blissful new life together has only just begun.

***

A Few Hours Ago

You hum to yourself as you flip through the designer outfits in your massive walk-in closet, selecting options for the upcoming race. This will be your first time attending a Grand Prix on Max’s arm and you want to look perfect.

As you sift through rows of Chanel, Dior, Valentino, and Prada, you feel a pair of familiar arms wrap around your waist.

“Need any help choosing?” Max asks, nuzzling your neck.

You lean back into him with a smile. “I was just trying to narrow it down. I want to look nice for your big weekend.”

Max turns you in his arms, one hand coming up to caress your cheek. “Schatje, you could show up in sweatpants and you’d still be the most beautiful woman there.”

You scrunch your nose. “But it’s Monaco! I need to look at least semi put-together.”

“It’s impossible for you to look anything but,” Max declares, stealing a quick kiss. “You always look perfect to me.”

You swat his chest but can’t help grinning. His constant compliments and admiration still give you flutters even after months together.

Taking your hand, Max comes to stand before the endless clothing options. “Okay, let’s see what we’re working with here.”

You pull out two of your favorites: a sleek black Balmain jumpsuit with a deep neckline and waist cutouts, and a shimmering floral Givenchy maxi dress.

“Ooh, these are both amazing,” Max says, fingering the luxe fabrics. “That jumpsuit would show off your sexy legs, but this fabric is so pretty with your skin tone ...”

You chew your bottom lip thoughtfully. “I’m torn too. What’s your vote?”

Max pretends to scrutinize them closely before breaking into a smile. “Well you know I love you in anything. Or nothing,” he adds with a wink.

You roll your eyes and swat him with a hanger. “Behave! I need actual fashion advice please.”

“Okay okay.” Max puts on an exaggerated serious expression. “The Givenchy dress is very classy and princess-like. But I love the way this Balmain hugs your curves.” To demonstrate, he traces a hand along the waist and down your side.

You shiver pleasantly at his touch. “Mmm, good point ...”

Max leans in close behind you, hands resting on your hips. “Imagine me peeling it off of you after my win.” He presses a kiss below your ear.

You melt back into him, tilting your head to give him better access to your neck. “Well when you put it that way ...”

“The dress would be pretty easy access too though.” Max slides his hands under the fabric across your thighs teasingly.

You gasp and swat him away again, laughing. “Okay stop distracting me! I really do need to pick.”

Max relents with a grin, holding up his hands in surrender. “Alright, you win. I officially vote for the dress. It’s sexy yet elegant, just like you.”

You smile and give him a peck on the lips. “Now, what about bags and shoes?”

You move through your endless options as Max offers his input. He has a surprising eye for fashion despite his own relaxed, sporty style.

“This one matches the best.” He selects a sleek black crocodile Birkin. “Classy and understated.”

You turn the bag over in your hands. “Ooh I forgot I had this one. Good call!”

After picking strappy heels to complete the look, you start browsing your jewelry selection.

“That’s a lot of shiny stuff,” Max remarks, eyes roving over the boxes of diamonds, emeralds, sapphires and more.

You arch an eyebrow. “Says the one who got carried away with the jewelry purchases ...”

Max just grins and pulls you close. “I want you to have it all. You deserve to be spoiled.” He captures your lips in a sweet kiss.

You hum happily against his mouth before pulling back. “Will you help me pick something?”

“Hmm let’s see ...” Max peruses the options before selecting an elegant diamond necklace. “Yeah, this one is perfect. Really complements the dress.”

He fastens it carefully around your neck, meeting your eyes in the mirror with a smile. His gaze trails down your body as you model the full outfit together.

“You look absolutely incredible, liefje. Every man in Monaco will be drooling over you.”

You turn to wrap your arms around his shoulders. “Well I only care about impressing one man.” You kiss the tip of his nose.

Max’s hands find your waist again, warm on your exposed skin. “Oh trust me, I am very impressed. And the second we’re alone after the race this outfit will be on the floor.”

You laugh as he nuzzles into your neck, nipping lightly. Somehow, you manage to fall more in love with Max every day.

You eventually disentangle, needing to actually get ready for the day ahead.

“What should I wear in the meantime?” You muse, fingers drifting over the designer options.

Before you can choose, Max comes up behind you and starts guiding a silk robe onto your shoulders.

“How about nothing at all? I’m enjoying this view already,” he murmurs against your skin as he wraps the sash loosely around your waist.

You lean back into him with a hum of pleasure. “Well if you insist ...”

Max takes your hand and leads you to the bed, laying you back against the pillows. He undoes the robe just enough to expose your body as he trails kisses everywhere. “Mmm yes, this is much better than any outfit.”

You run your fingers through his hair, arching into his touch. “What happened to getting ready for the race?” You breathe.

Max pauses his kisses just below your navel to flash a wicked grin up at you. “Race day can wait for a few more minutes. Right now I want to appreciate my gorgeous girl.”

You have zero arguments with that logic. With a happy sigh, you surrender to his skilled and eager mouth, letting all other concerns fade away. Everything else will have its turn — being worshiped by Max is the only thing on your schedule this morning.

Eventually though, you manage to dress and make your way to the circuit. As you ride through the streets together on the way, Max keeps an arm curled tightly around you.

“You know, despite the fancy clothes and jewelry, you’re still the same humble, kind-hearted woman I fell for,” Max says, kissing your temple. “All that other stuff just enhances your inner beauty.”

You smile and squeeze his hand as you lift your lips to meet his. “You always know just what to say.”

You keep your chin up and shoulders back as you step onto the harborside track that will soon be swarming with VIPs. With Max by your side, you have everything you need — now and always.

***

Monaco Grand Prix, 2025

The cheers of the crowd echo in your ears as you watch Max pass the chequered flag, securing his win. Your heart swells with pride and love as he pulls the car over to parc fermé and hops out, immediately searching for you on the other side of the barriers.

The second his eyes land on yours, his face lights up with that smile that melts you every time. He’s barely stepped out of the car before you launch yourself into his arms.

“You did it! I’m so proud of you,” you breathlessly exclaim.

Max laughs and pulls you closer. “I’m just happy to win it for you, liefje.”

Still holding you against his chest, he claims your mouth in a fierce celebratory kiss as the team and cameras swarm around. Your world narrows to just the feeling of his lips on yours, his race suit damp with sweat under your palms.

When you finally break for air, foreheads touching, Max murmurs “I love you so much. This one was for you.”

Your answering smile feels brighter than the Monaco sunshine. “I love you too. You were incredible today.”

The podium ceremony and interviews pass in a euphoric blur. Max keeps you tucked close to his side whenever he can, his arm firmly around your waist. He only has eyes for you despite the chaos surrounding him.

Finally escaping to the privacy of his driver’s room in the Red Bull motorhome, Max properly ravages you up against the door. The heady mix of victory and desire is intoxicating.

Much later, surrounded by empty champagne bottles with Max nuzzling lazy kisses across your bare shoulders, you hear a tentative knock.

“Decent?” Comes Emma’s teasing voice.

“Just a minute!” You call out, scrambling for your discarded dress.

Max pouts adorably as you wriggle back into it. “Do we have to go out? I’m enjoying having you all to myself ...”

You smile and kiss him sweetly. “Soon baby. But let’s celebrate with some friends first.”

Max sighs but nods, taking your hand as you go open the door. Emma’s eyebrows shoot up as she takes in your thoroughly debauched state, but she politely doesn’t comment.

“Y/N! There you are! Oh, and congrats on the win,” she says to Max before turning back to you. “We’re all heading to Jimmy’z for the afterparty. You have to come!”

You hesitate, glancing at Max. “Oh, actually we already have plans ...”

“Come on, it will be like old times! We can squeeze you both in, I’m sure,” Emma pleads. Your former colleagues are beckoned over — Tom, Will, Sarah, and others waving excitedly.

Their eager faces make you pause, but Max just chuckles and slides an arm around your waist. “No need for squeezing into crowded clubs. I’ve already reserved some VIP booths so we can party properly.” He winks down at you.

“Oh! Well in that case, we’ll see you there.” Emma looks impressed. The others chatter excitedly as they head off to get ready.

You grin up at Max, arms looped around his neck. “You’re the best, you know that?”

“Only the best for you, beautiful.” He kisses you softly before you head off hand-in-hand.

After making yourselves presentable again, you set out into the Monaco night. The Circuit de Monaco is still abuzz with energy, music and laughter pouring from every corner.

The line outside Jimmy’z stretches far down the block. But the bouncer immediately waves you through with a respectful “Mr. Verstappen, this way please.”

You exchange a smile with Max, who keeps you tucked close against his side. It still feels surreal being ushered into exclusive areas that once intimidated you. Now it’s your glamorous new normal.

“Y/N, you made it!” Emma jumps up and hugs you tight. She eyes your designer outfit and perfectly styled hair. “Damn, look at you! Got that WAG glow going on.”

You smooth your hands self-consciously over your dress. “Oh, thanks! Just trying to look the part, I guess.”

You chat and laugh with Emma and your former coworkers as music pulses around you. When the Go-Go dancer comes by with a tray of sparklers, you impulsively grab two, popping one in your mouth and handing the other to a wide-eyed Emma.

She fumbles to light hers, watching as you tilt your head back and laugh, little sparks showering your face.

“Girl, you are wild tonight!” Emma has to shout over the music. “I’ve never seen you like this.”

You just smile and rummage through your Birkin for lipstick to touch up, crossing and uncrossing your legs that sport sky-high Louboutins. Your time working 18 hour days hunched over a laptop feels like another lifetime.

Eventually needing a break from the noise, you head to the bar to refresh your drink. Emma joins you, peering at the menu.

“Damn, I can’t even pronounce half this stuff,” she laughs. “What are you thinking of getting?”

You scan the options. “Mmm, maybe the Dom Pérignon Rosé? Sounds nice.”

Emma shakes her head in disbelief. “You really have gone full glam. I don’t think I ever saw you drink anything but Heineken at the track.”

You scoff, “Well we didn’t exactly have champagne on offer in our part of the paddock.”

You smile politely as the bartender brings your drink over. Emma is still eyeing you curiously.

“What?” You ask, laughing under her scrutiny.

“Nothing, just ...” She waves a hand at you. “Look at you with the designer outfit, Birkin bag, $500 drinks … you’re a whole new woman!”

You take a sip of the bubbly pink liquid and just smile. “Is that such a bad thing?”

“No no, not at all!” Emma rushes to say. “You seem really happy. I’ve just never seen you like this before. You were always the practical, focused one. Now you look … fully embraced by the glitz.”

You lean against the bar, considering her words. She’s right — the old you never could’ve imagined fully embracing this lifestyle. But now you can’t imagine anything else.

“I am happier than I’ve ever been,” you tell her honestly. “With Max I’m free to enjoy life and not worry about anything. He takes care of it all.”

Emma raises her eyebrows. “So he just … pays for everything, and you live this champagne lifestyle together?”

You smile, fingering the enormous diamond on your left hand. “Basically, yes. And it’s as amazing as it sounds. I’ll never need to work or stress over bills or anything again.”

“Huh.” Emma takes a thoughtful sip of her own drink. “Don’t you ever miss the thrill of data crunching and racing strategy though?”

You consider it for a moment. The thought of long hours analyzing race stats and performance metrics makes your brain hurt.

“You know … I really don’t,” you realize. “I can barely even remember the programs and systems we used. And I like it that way.”

Emma nods slowly. You can tell she’s making an effort to be open-minded about your new life. Before she can respond, you feel the presence of someone behind you.

“There’s my beautiful girl,” Max murmurs, sliding his arms around your waist and nuzzling your neck. “This party is nowhere near as fun without you.”

You lean back into him happily. His passion and desire for you still give you the same flutters as that first night together in Barcelona. You doubt that will ever change.

Turning in his arms, you accept the kiss he gives you, not caring that Emma is still standing there. Let her see how crazy you are for each other.

When you pull back, Max smiles down at you like you’re the only person in the crowded club. “Dance with me?” He extends a hand, already gently pulling you towards the dancefloor.

You let him lead you away without a backwards glance. Emma can think what she wants, but she can’t possibly understand your relationship with Max. You know this is exactly where you’re meant to be.

Max hands you a fresh glass of champagne and keeps an arm curled around your waist as you sway together. The music and alcohol fill you with euphoria.

“Have I told you how stunning you look tonight?” Max murmurs in your ear, his breath hot on your skin.

You smile up at him coyly. “Feel free to keep reminding me.”

Max’s answering grin is sinful. His hands travel your body as you move together. “I plan to show you later just how irresistible I find you.”

The night flies by in a blur of dancing, drinks, and stolen kisses in the shadows with Max. Your former colleagues party into the early morning, but eventually stumble back to their hotels.

You and Max retreat back to your shared apartment just as dawn breaks over the horizon. As promised, your dress hits the floor immediately. He ravages you with hungry kisses, urging you higher and higher until you cry out his name again and again.

After, wrapped securely in his arms, you sigh in utter contentment. The smooth sheets feel divine against your skin and Max gently strokes your hair as you doze against his chest.

“So I take it you had fun?” He asks, a smile in his voice.

You lift your head to grin at him. “It was amazing. Although ...” You bite your lip coyly.

Max raises an eyebrow. “Although what, schatje?”

“Well, this part is still my favorite.” You punctuate your point by straddling his waist again, bending to kiss him deeply.

Max groans appreciatively against your mouth, hands grasping your hips. “Mmm mine too. In fact, I don’t think we’re done celebrating yet ...”

Your lips part in ecstasy and your nails rake down his back as he takes you right to the edge again and again. Finally collapsing in a tangle of sweaty limbs, you’re both completely spent and blissful. You curl into Max’s side, eyes drifting shut.

“I love you so much,” you murmur, the words slurring together.

Max kisses your hair, stroking your back. “I love you too, Y/N. Being with you is a dream.”

You slip into peaceful dreams still wrapped in each other. The glitz and glamour of F1 life is fun, but nothing compares to the private world you share with Max.

You’ll face the crowds and cameras again soon. But right now, lost in Max’s embrace, you have everything you need.

[arc-misadventures]

Would You Care To Join Us? 2

Jaune: Nora, I need your… advice.

Nora: Oh?! Fearless Leder needs my help?! This is a glorious day!

Jaune: I’m already starting to regret this…

Nora: So tell me gloriously leader! What can I help you with?

Jaune: How does one… get a girl…? How does one make a girl your girlfriend?

Nora: Why are you asking me that; Couldn’t you ask, Rin, or Pyrrha?

Jaune: Pyrrha’s only been on publicity dates, meant to show off something, or someone. No romance in those at all. And has, Rin ever been on anything close to a date?

Nora: Ahh, good points. But, I’ve never dated before, why are you asking me?

Jaune: Cause it’s you, Nora.

Nora: Ahh! That’s why you’re the leader! Always coming up with the smart plans there!

Jaune: So… any ideas?

Nora: Who’s the girl you’re trying to win over?

Jaune: …

Jaune: Ms. Goodwitch…

Nora: Triple G?!

Jaune: Don’t call her that!

Nora: Sorry…

Jaune: Haa… Okay, so can you help me?

Nora: I can!

Jaune: Awesome!

Jaune: How…?

Nora: Hmmm… Oh I know! You should have sex with, Blake in her classroom!

Jaune: …

Jaune: The fuck?!

Nora: I know it’s crazy, but hear me out. So, you sleep with, Blake in, Ms. Goodwitch’s classroom, then she stumbles upon you, and then you ask her to join in! Simple as that!

Jaune: …

Jaune: That’s the craziest plan I ever heard…

Nora: But, it could work~?

Jaune: Even if I agree to this plan, answer me one thing: Why, Blake?

Nora: She’s kinky, she’d totally do it.

Jaune: …

Jaune: She probably would.

Jaune: Haaa… Fine I’ll do it… But, if this back fires, and I wind up in detention, you’re banned from having pancakes for a week.

Nora: You wouldn’t dare!

Jaune: Pray that you don’t find out.

~~~

Blake: Oh fuck~?!

Jaune: Honestly, I thought you slap me in the face for even suggesting we do this. But, you’re really getting into this, Blake.

Blake: Oh~! Can you blame me? You have no idea how many boxes this ticks off, and me on~!

Jaune: Really? Care to tell me? Maybe I can check off another item on that list for you~?

Blake: Doing it in a classroom. Ooph~! The possibility of being caught. Doing a human. Actually getting off~!

Jaune: Ouch, how many bad lovers have you had?

Blake: Too many! Oh! We should film this, and send it to them!

Jaune: Beg pardon?

Blake: Those losers would absolutely… Ohhh~! Would absolutely lose it if they saw me actually getting off, to a human no less! Oh gods~! We should have done this sooner~!

Jaune: I-I’m not really sure about…?!

Ruby: Blake, are you here? I want the next volume of… Ninjas in… love…?

Jaune: Uhh… hi, Ruby…?

Ruby: H-Hi…

Jaune: Uhh… Blake, and I are kinda busy right now… you can ask her for that book later.

Ruby: O-Okay… whoa that’s massive…

Jaune: But, in the meantime… w-would you care to join us?

Ruby: Yes!

Blake: A threesome?! Fuck yeah, another item off my checklist!

~~~

Nora: Ruby?

Jaune: Yeah…

Nora: How did it go?

Jaune: Blake got… kinky so I didn’t really do it a lot with her.

Nora: Makes sense.

Jaune: So, Ruby asked me to join her in the classroom again.

Nora: Oh cool! Treat her nicely!

Jaune: Don’t worry, I will!

~~~

Ruby: H-How are you… Ohh~! How are you so good with knots? Mmmm~!

Jaune: Boy scout, easiest badge I ever got

Ruby: I knew it! You’re a total boy scout!

Jaune: And, you’re loving it~!

Ruby: Hell yeah~! Ohhh~!

Jaune: Tell me; You like being tied up, how about being gagged?

Ruby: Oh fuck yeah!

Jaune: Alright then, let’s…?!

Weiss: Ruby, did you take my binder… A-Again…?

Ruby: N-No…

Jaune: Hmmm… That didn’t sound so sincere. Did it, Weiss?

Weiss: N-No it didn’t…

Jaune: Would you care to join us, Weiss? Maybe then we can get her to talk.

Weiss: …?!

~~~

Nora: Did, Weiss join in?

Jaune: Yeah… yeah she did…

Nora: Was it bad?

Jaune: Oddly specifically kinky…

Nora: Eh?

~~~

Weiss: Grrk! Grrk! Grrk!

Jaune: Oh, are you enjoying yourself, bitch?

Weiss: Mmmph~?!

Jaune: D-Did you just…? Who said you could do that?

Weiss: Mmm-mmrrry!

Jaune: Looks like I’m going to to have to puni…

Yang: Did someone say, ‘Pun?!’

Jaune: Uhhh…?

Weiss: …?!

Jaune: No… no they did not…

Yang: Oh… Uhh…? What’s going on here…?

Jaune: Exploring, Weiss’s kink…

Yang: Kink?

Jaune: Domination…

Yang: Oh… that’s unexpected…

Jaune: Yeah…

Yang: …

Jaune: Are you just going to stand there, or would you care to join us, Yang?

Yang: Oh~?

~~~

Nora: Yang? You got the wrong blonde, Fearless Leader.

Jaune: Yeah…

Nora: So… Are you going to try again with, Yang?

Jaune: Yeah, she asked me to help her explore her kink.

Nora: What’s her kink?

Jaune: Beats me.

~~~

Yang: Ohh~! Big bro! We can’t do this here~!

Jaune: I am so conflicted right now! I have seven sisters, and you look like all of them! And, you want to do this?!

Yang: Because, its so god damn hot~!

Jaune: That’s what makes it worse!

Yang: Forget about it, just focus on me, and the moment, big bro~!

Jaune: Gods… Why is my little sister such a…?!

Emerald: Shit, where did I place that…?! That…?

Jaune: Uhhh… Hi… Emerald…

Emerald: Hi…

Yang: Yo~!

Emerald: Hi… Uhhh… A-Are you two related…?

Jaune: N-No…

Emerald: B-But… L-Lil sis…?

Jaune: It’s… its her kink… So…

Emerald: Oh…

Jaune: So… so are you going to do whatever it is you were going to do, or would you like to join us instead?

Emerald: J-Join…?

~~~

Nora: A brother complex?

Jaune: Yeah, I thought only girls with brothers would develop a brother complex like my sisters. But, apparently not.

Nora: Yeah…

Nora: So, Emerald… How was that?

Jaune: Also into the brother complex thing too.

Nora: Okay…

Jaune: She asked for a second run.

Nora: She did?

Jaune: She said she wanted to play something out.

Nora: Oh really? What does she want to play out?

~~~

Emerald: I’m sorry!

Jaune: For what?!

Emerald: I’m sorry for stealing!

Jaune: No you’re not! You’re sorry you got caught!

Emerald: OHH~!

Jaune: Oh? You like that? You wanted to get caught didn’t you! So you could be punished you naughty butch!

Emerald: N-N-NooooOoh~?!

Jaune: You do~! Well, guess I’ll have to try harder to punish you, you slu…?!

Cinder: Emerald?! Are you here, we need to… to…?!

Jaune: Uhh…?!

Emerald: C-Cinder?! W-What are you doing here?!

Cinder: I was… I was looking… L-Looking for you…

Emerald: F-For what…?

Cinder: I… I don’t remember… oh gods… its so big…

Jaune: Oh… well would you like to join us maybe we can jog your memory?

Cinder: J-Join…?

~~~

Nora: So, Cinder joined in, eh?

Jaune: Yeah, Emerald really enjoyed it when, Cinder joined in on the action.

Nora: Must have a crush on her.

Jaune: I’d bet money on that.

Nora: So, did, Cinder ask you for a spin too~?

~~~

Cinder: AhhHhh~!

Jaune: I’m sorry! Did I hurt you?

Cinder: No. It’s just to so~!

Jaune: I’ll go slow… be nice, and gentle, just like you asked.

Cinder: Oh dear~! Hold me!

Jaune: I’m here honey, I’m here… eh?!

Cinder: Huw?

Neo: 🙂

Jaune: H-Hi…?

Neo: 😁👋

Cinder: N-Neo?! What are you doing here?!

Neo: 😍🍆💦

Cinder: You want to join us?

Neo: 🤩

Jaune: Whoa hey?! I didn’t say the line!

~~~

Nora: So, Cinder is into softcore?

Jaune: I think she’s more into the feeling of being loved, because she hasn’t ever experienced genuine live in all her life. In the afterglow she delved into to some… heavy stuff… she’s been through a lot…

Nora: Oh… I’m sorry to hear that… so… What does, Neo want?

Jaune: She’s mute, so she didn’t tell me.

Nora: So she’ll show you then?

Jaune: Probably.

~~~

Ruby: 🥴

Jaune: Okay… This is unexpected…

Ruby: 🚫❤️❔

Jaune: I didn’t say that. I will say, you certainly are tighter than her!

Ruby: 😏

Jaune: What’s that smile about?

Weiss: 😍

Jaune: Okay, now this is a semblance I would like to play with!

Nora: 🥰

Jaune: Okay, I haven’t done it with her, so this is kinda…??

Nora: Jaune! We ran out of…?!

Jaune: Uhh…?!

Nora: N-Neo…?

Nora: 😘

Nora: You’re fucking me… but, not me…?

Jaune: Uhh… yeah…? I-It was her idea!

Nora: 😇

Nora: I’m a little offended really… I mean, you’re fucking me, but not the real me? Why?

Jaune: Oh… Well, we can fix that… So, would you care to join us?

Nora: …

Nora: Fuck me… Literally~!

~~~

Nora: That was awesome!

Jaune: Glad you like it. I thought you would be unnerved with doing yourself… like that…

Nora: Naww it was fucking hot! You should do it again, but this time with, Blake! She’d really get into it!

Jaune: It worries me that she would…

Nora: So, up for another round fearless leader~?

Jaune: …

Jaune: Sure.

~~~

Nora: Ahhh~Haa~! H-Harder~!

Jaune: Oh? Of course you like it hard, and rough.

Nora: Hell yeah I do! Ohh~! What do you take me for, some pillow… Ahhh~! Pillow princess?!

Jaune: Like hell I would, I just expected you’d like things little… HARDER!

Nora: AHHHH~HHHHH~!

Jaune: That’s more like it~! Scream for me bitch!

Velvet: Yeah, scream for him you slut!

Jaune: AHHH?! What the?! Velvet, what the hell are you doing here?

Velvet: Waiting for my turn.

Jaune: Your turn?!

Velvet: Yeah, you fucked, Blake, then, Ruby showed up, and then you had a threesome with her. Now, I’m here, and I’m waiting for you two to finish so I can have my turn.

Jaune: Well,I’s happily ask if you would care to join is, but how the hell did you know we were doing this?

Velvet: Blake told me.

Jaune: Son’a bitch!

~~~

Nora: Blake blabbed?

Jaune: Yep.

Nora: Of course she did… I’ll go teach her a lesson. You go tame the rabbit. She’s going to lose it if she doesn’t get her fix.

Jaune: Should I bring a spare change of clothes with me?

Nora: Wouldn’t hurt.

~~~

Velvet: Ghack?! J-Jaune?!! Y-You’re… Oh fuck~?! C-Chocking me! Oh~?!

Jaune: That’s because I need to hold you in place you in heat bunny slut!

Velvet: Oh gods~?!

Jaune: Besides, you can deny it all you want, you got tighter the moment I squeezed~!

Velvet: OH-OHHHH~!

Jaune: He… squirter… that’s a first…

Coco: Holy fuck…

Jaune: Coco?!

Velvet: Co-co~? Heyyyy~! Would you care to join us, Coco~? I need help taming the big fella~!

Coco: Join you?

~~~

Jaune: Evidently, Velvet was in heat…

Nora: That’s a thing?! I thought that was some racist stereotype?

Jaune: According to, Velvet it only happens to females, and certain types of faunas.

Nora: Bunnies being one of them?

Jaune: Yep.

Nora: So did, Coco join you?

Jaune: Yep.

Nora: Really? I thought she was gay.

Jaune: Me too. But, she asked for another go so…

Nora: Maybe she’s curious?

Jaune: Maybe. I’ll do it, I just hope what happened with my sister-in-law doesn’t happen again…

Nora: Sister-in-what now?

~~~

Coco: Fuck!Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! FUCK~!

Jaune: Enjoying yourself?

Coco: Oh gods?! Why the fuck did I use those worthless dildos?! Ahhh~fuck~?!

Jaune: Ahh, crap. Looks like I did it again.

Coco: Did… Ahh! Did what aga-ahhhh~!

Jaune: Make a lesbian question her sexuality.

Coco: You’ve turned a lesbian straight?!

Jaune: Bisexual, but does that really matter?

Coco: You gotta… Oh fuck~?! You gotta tell me how that went down! Cause that sounds so hoOOOOOOT~!

Jaune: Maybe next time, for now lets just enjoy the…?!

Reese: Hey, guys do you know where the cafeteria… is…?

Jaune: Oh, hi Reese… The cafeteria is down here hall to your right.

Reese: Oh cool, thanks… But, uhh… I’m not that hungry anymore… Maybe you can help me gain a appetite~?

Jaune: Oh? In that case, would you care to join us?

Reese: Mmmm~! Please take care of me~!

Coco: Oh he will~! He will~!

~~~

Nora: Reese? That punk, scatter girl?

Jaune: Yep, that’s her.

Nora: So, did you help her get an appetite?

Jaune: She’s still hungry, so…?

Nora: So~?

~~~

Reese: I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m…?! Ohh~?! I’m sorry sir!

Jaune: Sorry for what?! That you were cheating, or that you were caught?!

Reese: Ohhh~?!

Jaune: There… I believe you have learned your lesson, Ms. Chloris.

Reese: W-What was the lesson, Professor Arc~?

Jaune: …

(SMACK!)

Reese: OHhhh~!

Jaune: Kids these days… they never learn…?!

Arslan: Reese! Where are you? We got some… training… to do…

Jaune: Oh… Hello, Ms. Altan. Ms. Chloris is currently in the midst of some supplementary lessons. Perhaps you could come by later. Unless, you would care to join us for some extra credit?

Reese: Extra credit~! Hehehehe…

Arslan: Your name is, Jaune Arc right? You’re Pyrrha Nioks team leader, and partner.

Jaune: That’s right I am.

Arslan: Interesting~!

~~~

Nora: What was interesting?

Jaune: I don’t know, and I’m scared to find out…

Nora: You sure, cause your friend says otherwise?

Jaune: I said I was scared, not that I don’t find this hot!

~~~

Arslan: Fuck you, Nikos!

Jaune: Oh, so is sleeping with me your way of one upping, Pyrrha?

Arslan: At first… Ohh~! But, this cock is something a girl can’t deny she wants~!

Jaune: Really? Then how would you feel if I said I haven’t slept with, Pyrrha?

Arslan: Seriously?!

Jaune: OH FUCK?! You just got so much tighter?!

Arslan: Ha! Take that bitch! I got your man first! And, I’m going to make him mine~!

Pyrrha: Not if I have anything to say about it.

Jaune: Huw?! P-Pyrrha?!

Arslan: Hey bitch~! Guess who just stole your man from you!

Pyrrha: Bitch please… Let me show you how a real woman pleases a man~!

Jaune: P-Please be gentle…?

~~~

Jaune: Oh gods… My body hurts all over…

Nora: Didn’t your aura protect you? It did when we went at it.

Jaune: They broke my aura! I’m just one man, do you expect me to handle a pair of Amazonian’s all on my own?!

Nora: Oh shit really? Why did they go so hard on you?

Jaune: Evidently the pair have some history back in, Mistrial. The number one, and two always competing for top place. I just so happened to be the ‘top place’ at the moment…

Nora: The top place being your dick right~?

Jaune: …

Jaune: I wasn’t going to say it, but yeah… it was the, ‘top place’ this time…

Nora: So, who won?

Jaune: Actually they both asked for a rematch…

Nora: They, what?

~~~

Pyrrha: Oh fuuuuuck~!

Jaune: Oh gods!

Pyrrha: How does it feel, Jaune~! I’m better than that cheap slut~!

Arslan: Oh you whore! Come here you bitch!

Pyrrha: Hey?! Hands of my man you cunt!

Arslan: Bring it whore!

Pyrrha: Oh~! You bitch~!

Arslan: Mmmmph~! Make be whore~!

Pyrrha: Mmmm~! You slut~!

Arslan: Ahhh~!

Jaune: Uhh…?

Arslan: Ohh fucck~! Right there~! Use your tongue right there you slut~!

Pyrrha: Mmmmmm~!

Arslan: I’m cumming~! AHHHHHooooh fuuuuuck~!

Pyrrha: Ha, beat that bitch~!

Arslan: With pleasure~!

Jaune: …

Jaune: Should I just go? Because it seems that, I’ve become the third wheel here so…?

PA: Come here you!

Jaune: Whaaa?!

~~~

Nora: So, do you think they worked out their relationship?

Jaune: I think so? The pair may not be competing on who the better fighter is anymore, but they’re still competing with one another.

Nora: The sexual tension between the pair is rather intense. I guess you just pushed the pair over the edge.

Jaune: Define edge?

Nora: Ehhh~! Nice!

Jaune: Thank you, I’m here all week~!

Neon: Oh, there you are, Jaune~!

Jaune: Ahh?! Neon, what are you doing here?

Neon: I was told that you are considered, ‘safe.’ I’m curious how, ‘safe’ you really are, if you catch my drift.

Jaune: Drift? No, no I don’t.

Neon: I’ll see you again at your… usual hunting ground. Till later~!

Jaune: Uhh… Okay?

Jaune: …

Jaune: Did you find it weird that someone wanted to do it with me without first catching me, and another person in the act?

Nora: Yeah, that was pretty weird.

Jaune: Yeah, weird. So, any idea who snitched on us?

Nora: Blake, or Velvet, possibly both of them.

Jaune: Damn their loose lips… Nora!

Nora: Yes, Fearless Leader!

Jaune: Teach those two a lesson! I will deal with the stray cat!

Nora: At once, Fearless Leader!

~~~

Neon: Never miss a beat! Never miss a beat! Never miss a beeeeeeAaat!

Jaune: How was that, Neo? Dis a miss a beat?

Neon: You his every beat right know yhe mark handsome~!

Jaune: Good, now then, let’s try things at a different… eh? May?

May: Uhh… H-Hey, Jaune?

Jaune: Oh hey, May. Need something, or would you care to join us?

Neon: Yeah! Join us~! You won’t regret it~!

May: Uhhh… M-Maybe… But, I have a word with you later, Jaune? I want to have a word with you.

Jaune: Uhh… sure. But, what did you want to talk about?

~~~

Nora: So, how was, Neon?

Jaune: I like it when a girl does her hair in pigtails.

Nora: Why?

Jaune: Handle bars.

Nora: Nice~! So, what does, May want to talk to you about?

Jaune: Beats me, probably wants to thank me for protecting her from that grenade you almost hit her with.

Nora: Yeah… she wants to, ‘thank you~!’

~~~

Jaune: Oh gods… They’re so soft~!

May: (Slurrr-Pop~!) And, you’re so hard, and big~!

Jaune: You’re one to talk? I thought you were a B-Cup, what are those, H-Cup? How the hell did you manage to hide those?

May: Lots of binding… (Slurp~!) Otherwise they get in the way… But, now they’re right where I want them~!

Jaune: I’ll admit, I’ve always wanted to a girl with a big chest to do this to me. Done side if be a hormonal teenager with seven sisters as big as you.

May: Mmmm~! Day ar?

Jaune: Mmmm~! Much bigger… I’ll show you a place later where you can get some proper restraining bras. Those binding’s will hurt your chest in the long wrong.

May: (Pop~!) Really?! Oh, thanks, Jaune! That means a lot!

Jaune: My pleasure.

May: But, in the meantime, your ‘little’ friend here owes me a make over~!

Jaune: Then get back to work, There’s a lot more I want to do with you than just give you a makeover~!

May: I’m looking forward to it the…?!

Penny: Amazing! Are most male reproduction organs so big?!

Jaune: Penny?! W-What are you doing here?

Penny: Friend Ruby recounted the tale of your sexual escapades, I was interested the validity of her words , so I described to authentic her tale for myself.

Jaune: So…? Would you care to join us then?

Penny: Sensational!

~~~

Nora: Ruby blabbed?

Jaune: Yep…

Nora: Shall I take care of her.

Jaune: You may.

Nora: So how was, Penny?

Jaune: She just watched us, she wanted to know what to expect before she did anything.

Nora: So you’re gonna pop her cherry then~?

Jaune: Don’t worry, I’ll be careful.

Nora: With that bitchbreaker? Yeah right!

~~~

Penny: S-S-Sen… Sensa-sa-sation-a-aalllll~!

Jaune: Penny?! P-Penny are you okay…?

Ciel: I think you short circuited her… And, it only took you: Twelve minutes, and thirty seven seconds.

Jaune: Uhh… Is she okay? I saw literal sparks fly off of her.

Ciel: She is in the midst of a reboot. She will be fine in ten to fifteen minutes.

Jaune: Are you sure?

Ciel: I am. Now, you have not ejaculated yet despite, Penny’s best efforts. So I shall offer you a fellatio to bring you to ejaculation. This should take no more than five minutes.

Jaune: Wait, what?!

~~~

Jaune: It did in fact take no longer than five minutes…

Nora: You sound disappointed by that.

Jaune: I couldn’t really enjoy it. Sure she went after me like a vacuum, but I couldn’t enjoy it. Besides, it feels weird to time how long you can bring someone to come.

Nora: That makes sense. It’s not a contest to see who can eat the most pancakes the fastest.

Jaune: According to, Penny, Ciel is very punctual. Basically everything she does is done to a schedule, and I mean everything, down to the last second is marked on one of her schedules.

Nora: Yikes, major control freak right there. Hmm… You two having another scheduled interaction together?

Jaune: Yeah, why?

Nora: It would be a shame if things didn’t go to schedule, if you catch my drift~!

Jaune: Oh really~?

~~~

Ciel: OH FUCK~?!!

Jaune: What was that~? Barely even a few minutes? Doesn’t it take you five minutes to have a orgasm?

Ciel: Y-Y-You…?! Oh fuck?! You disrupting mu p-p-pla-Ahhhh~!

Jaune: And, you’re absolutely loving it~!

Ciel: N-No! I’m not! I-I… Ohhh~! I hate…?! Oh gods~!

Jaune: You love it~!

Ciel: Oh~!

Jaune: Admit it, Ciel. You love it when I disrupt your precious little timetable~!

Ciel: I don’t! I-I-Ahhh~! i ha… Ha… I LOVE IT~! I fucking love it! I love not know when I’ll cum, when you’ll come! Oh gods~! This feels amazing~!

Jaune: Good girl~! You deserve a reward… I know, how about another one of these!

Ciel: Oh gods~?! It’s so warm! S-S-So warm~!

Jaune: Good girl~! Let’s spend… two minutes for you to catch your breath before we… Rin?!

Rin: H-Hey, Jaune… You looking… big…

Jaune: Oh uhh… Thanks. So… Ciel seems a bit out of it… Would you care to join us? Give, Ciel a chance to get her legs back?

Rin: J-Join you…?

Rin: …

Rin: Later.

Jaune: Later?

Rin: Yeah, later… I meed to prepare myself… mentally… and physically…

Jaune: Oh, okay. Let me know when you’re ready to do it.

Rin: Don’t worry, you won’t have to wait too long. Till then, Jaune~!

Jaune: Till then…?

~~~

Jaune: I’m… worried…

Nora: About, Rin?

Jaune: Yeah… the way she stared at me… there was something in her eyes that seemed… wanting, lusting, and… and, unhinged…

Nora: Hmmm… Yeah, I asked her about the two of you going at it. The way she rubbed her thighs, and bit her lip… There was something… there was something in her eyes that unnerves me…

Jaune: We won’t know until we do it… But, until then keep an eye on, Rin. Something’s fishy, and I want to know what’s going on.

Nora: Will do, Fearless Leader!

Jaune: Let’s hope nothing bad happens…

~~~

Rin: That’s it you magnificent stud!

Jaune: Whoa, Rin?! What’s gotten into you?!

Rin: Come on! Come on! Comeonecomeonconeobcomeone!

Jaune: Ahh, Rin?! What the hells gotten into you?!

Rin: Come inside! Come inside, and knock me up!

Jaune: Wait, what?!

Rin: Get me pregnant! Give me your babies! Make me a mommmMMMMMY~!!!

Jaune: Ahh fuck… Are you try to…?! What the fuck, Rin?!

Rin: Ahh~! I’m gonna be a mother~! Ahhhhhhh…

Jaune: Rin? Oi, Rin, what the hell was that?!

Glynda: A violation of several school codes, Mr. Arc.

Jaune: Ahhh?! M-M-Ms. Goodwitch… H-Hi…?

Glynda: I see you are having… fun…

Jaune: Yeah… fun…

Glynda: Fun…

Jaune: Uhhh…

Glynda: Clean up your teammate, Mr. Arc, then clean the spot where you… Where you had your fun…

Jaune: I’ll get right on that, Ms. Goodwitch!

Glynda: Good… I will see you tomorrow at detention, Mr. Arc.

Jaune: Detention? That seems… appropriate…

~~~

Jaune: So… Rin wants me to impregnate her…

Nora: Yeah… that’s… yeah…

Jaune: Yeah…

Nora: I made her take some, ‘morning after’ pills.

Jaune: Oh? Oh that’s good! That’s good…

Nora: Something wrong?

Jaune: I’m just confused on all of… that!

Nora: Are you against having a kid… a kid with, Rin…?

Jaune: …

Jaune: I’m not against it… It’s just… I never expected that, Rin wants such a thing… from me no less… But… I don’t know… We’ll need to talk with, Rin about this later… I just… I need more time to process all of this…

Nora: Okay… I’ll let, Pyrrha know what happened so we can all talk about this.

Jaune: Good idea. It’s best if she also keeps an eye on, Rin as well. Haa… Okay, I have to get going… detention, Ms. Goodwitch…

Nora: Good luck, Jaune.

Jaune: I’ll need it…

~~~

Glynda: So… Let me get this straight… In an attempt to whoo me, you had sexual intercourse in my classroom, hoping that I would catch you in the midst of the act where you would ask me: “Would you care to join us?” Is that correct, Mr. Arc?

Jaune: Y-Yes…

Glynda: Good. Let’s continue; You started this little plot with, Ms. Belladonna, where instead of me catching you in the act, you were caught by, Ms. Rose, then you tried it again with, Ms. Rose. Then you tried it again with, Ms. Schnee. And, again with, Ms. Xiao Long. And then with, Ms. Sustari. And, then with, Ms. Fall. And, then with her teammate, Ms. Politan. And, then with your teammate, Ms. Valkyrie. And, then with, Ms. Scarlatina. And, then with her partner, Ms. Adel. And, then with, Ms. Chloris. And, then it was, Ms. Arslan, which involved, Ms. Nikos in a competition of some sorts. Then, Ms. Katt asked you to join your… harem. And, then Miss Zedong ask to join you. And, then it was, Ms. Polendina, who was with, Ms. Soleil, and lastly it was your teammate, Lie Rin before I, Glynda Goodwitch finally caught you in the act…

Jaune: Y-Y-Yeah… That’s p-pretty much it…

Glynda: And, tell me, Mr. Arc… Why… Why didn’t you just ask me out on a date, instead of this convoluted plan where you started a harem after sleeping with seventeen different woman? If you just asked me out back then, I would be enjoying your massive cock between my breasts long ago!

Jaune: I-I’m sorry! I thought you would say no!

Glynda: Mr… No… Jaune… You promised to marry me when you were six… I waited twelve years for you to make your move, and instead of making your move on me, you slept with secenteen other woman! What the hell, Jaune!

Jaune: Uhh… E-Eighteen woman actually…

Glynda: Eighteen?! You’ve slept with eighteen woman before me?! That it! You may have slept with sixteen woman before me, but I’ll be the first to have your child!

Jaune: Y-Yeah… about that…

Glynda: What!! You’re already a father?! Who the hell did you…?! Adrian… You’re, Adrian’s father, aren’t you?!

Jaune: Surprise…?

Glynda: You slept with your sister’s wife to conceive a child?!

Jaune: It was consensual! They wanted an, Arc, so I gave them an, Arc baby!

Glynda: And, Saphron just sat there, and watched as you knocked up her wife, Terra?!

Jaune: …

Jaune: Nineteen…

Glynda: Motherfucker?!

Jaune: Technically true…

Glynda: That’s it! I don’t care about your harem, or the fact I’m number twenty! But, I’ll be damned if someone else has your child before me! I’m number two! Rin can become number three after me! So get ready, Jaune, you’re going to become a father again~!

Jaune: H-Help…?

Ozlyn: Ara-Ara~! Do you really think that I will allow that to happen, Glynda?

Jaune: Headmistress Ozlyn?!

Glynda: Ozlyn?! What are you doing here?

Ozlyn: Me? Why I was planning to get the number two spot, but I don’t mind being number three~!

Glynda: The number two spot is mine bitch!

Ozlyn: We’ll see honey~! But, before we begin, Mr. Arc?

Jaune: Yes…?

Ozlyn: Please say, ‘The Lline.’

Jaune: The line…?

Ozlyn: Yes, ‘The Line~!’

Jaune: Uhhh… H-Hello, Headmistress Ozlyn… would you care to join us…?

Ozlyn: Fufufu~! With extreme pleasure~!

~~~

Nora: Glynda Goodwitch, and Headmistress Ozlyn?!

Jaune: Yeah… both of them…

Nora: Whoa… How was it?

Jaune: Starved, to say the least…

Nora: Oh gods… So… Now what…? You started a harem with twentyone different woman, and all of us are ready, and waiting for a second run! So, what are you going to do, Fearless Leader?

Jaune: …

Jaune: Pancakes…

Nora: Pancakes?

Jaune: Yeah, pancakes. I’m hungry.

Nora: Whoo! Pancakes! Can we have sex afterwards?

Jaune: Sure.

Nora: Fuck yeah!

Jaune: No syrup in the bedroom though.

Nora: Dammit!

///

Haaa… Days of work… And it’s finally over!

Doing the bloody colour coding took forever…

Do enjoy~!

[f1goat]

his stripper + lando norris (one shot)

In which Lando his friends take him to a stripclub, where he meets you. He's quick to come back weekly, every Tuesday you're his. But when he comes another day and finds you on the lap of some other guy, something in him snaps.

fem!stripper reader x lando norris

trigger warnings: stripper reader, sexual content, smut, a bit of unwanted physical contact (nothing much!) + not proofread as usual

masterlist - playlist

the first time at the stripclub

He’s nervous. This is nothing for him. The whole setting is wrong and puts him off. His mood is getting worse instead of better, but he can’t tell his friends about that. They tried, they really did. After Lando told them about being a bit miserable since the break up with his ex, they tried everything to cheer him up. Nothing really worked. Clubbing all night whenever he could, didn’t do the trick. Flirting shamelessly with every girl he saw, also didn’t work. He believes that tonight is some last option. A ‘if this doesn’t work, nothing will’ kind of option. 

But, this is a fucking stripclub. It won’t help him feel any better. To be honest, it only seems to make things worse. 

Lando looks at every small detail in the club. The atmosphere makes him even more nervous. It surprises him that there are many young guys who seem to be around his age. He always thought there only would be older guys. He takes a sip of his drink. It seems to be some strong cocktail with whiskey. He doesn’t like it. 

“You’re looking as bitter as that drink,” one of his friends tell him jokingly. 

Lando soft sighs and nods, “Maybe you’re right,” he says. 

“Just enjoy this mate,” another friend says. 

Lando tries to think about words that can tell his friends that he won’t enjoy this, but he doesn’t want to sound ungrateful. Before he can think about the right words, he’s distracted by the music becoming louder. Almost ashamed he starts to look at the podium, where you enter the place and greet everyone with a timid smile. 

You aren’t what Lando thought a stripper would be. It’s almost as there is an innocence hanging around you. He almost feels like he has to save you from this place. What’s a girl like you doing in a place like this? Lando already starts to feel infected with the thoughts about you. He’s already feeling you enter his mind and making a long term place for yourself.

That can’t be good.

He keeps looking at you. Even if he wanted to, he couldn’t tear his gaze away from you. Everything about you is beautiful. You aren't a model like his ex, but maybe that’s what he likes most about you right now. There’s some sort of natural beauty hanging around you. And in combination with the innocence look on your face, it makes you way too dangerous for him. He should look away from you, leave this place and never come back. But Lando already starts to feel addicted. Fuck, who are you?

“I told you he’d like her.” He hears one of his friends make a remark to another one. He wonders if his friends came here more often. Have saw you before. Maybe even touched you? Fuck, he almost feels himself getting mad at only the thought.

You’re a stripper. He needs to remind himself about that all the time. But when he sees the way you’re moving on the stage, his opinion changes again. You’re not simply stripping like earlier girls on that stage did. It’s almost like you’re performing some sort of art. 

He really is losing his mind here.

Lando looks at all the movements you make. He watches how you slowly tease the crowd with your movements. When you unclasp your bra, Lando almost loses it. He doesn’t want you to show everyone even more of your body. A relieved sigh is leaving his mouth when he notices the nipple stickers on your boobs. 

The short skirt you’re wearing is next. Slowly you turn yourself around to give the crowd a sneak peak. Lando wants nothing more then to feel your ass. When he sees what you’re hiding on the short skirt, he wants nothing more for you to sit in his lap. Eventually you lose the skirt as well. Lando feels in some trance while staring at you. Why can’t he function like a normal person anymore?

When the first girls danced on stage, he couldn’t care less. But with you? He can’t seem to look away. His friends notice it as well. It’s probably even worse then they already expected. Lando doesn’t pay attention to them anymore, until you leave the stage. He can barely withhold himself from throwing money on the stage as well. It seems rude to do so, even though it’s your job. 

Would it be a sin to get you alone with him? 

The next girl shows up and starts her routine, but Lando has lost his focus again. He’s focussing on his friends who are making fun of him for liking you this much. It annoys him how he doesn’t even know who you are, what your name is and how he can see you again. 

“We have one more surprise for you,” his best friend, Max, tells him. Lando gives him a strange look. What is he talking about? Instead of getting an explanation, there’s showing up someone in front of him. It seems to be one of the security members from the club. “Suzuka is ready for you,” he tells Lando. 

“Go with him,” his friends encourage Lando. He feels strange. Who’s Suzuka? Is that a nickname from one of the strippers? Of course his friends picked someone with a name who’s connected to formula one. He sighs, but he does follow the security member. What if it’s you? He needs to know for sure.

In a short amount of time he has followed the guy to a smaller room. There’s no one around yet. The guy tells Lando that Suzuka will be here any moment. It makes him nervous. When he looks around in the room, it’s clear that it’s used for the more private dances. Fuck. He doubts about leaving this room, this place and his friends, to go home. But the small chance of you being Suzuka stops him. So, he takes place on the small couch that’s standing in the room. 

When the door opens, he’s surprised that it is actually you. 

Apparently his friends know him ever better then he already thought. They did pick out the right girl. 

From up close you look even more beautiful to him. Lando again feels like he’s entering some sort of trance. You walk closer towards him. It makes him nervous. What does he need to say to you? He doesn’t even know what’s going to happen next. Is he getting a private dance? Or are his friends just pranking him? 

“Hey,” you softly greet Lando. It amazes him that you still seem shy and timid. He thought that was an act for on the stage. “Hi,” Lando greets you back with even more nerves. 

When you show Lando another small smile, he feels like he’s going to lose it. He needs to feel your body against his. He needs it. Now. His dick has already hardened up and is pressing painfully against his jeans. 

“I need to inform you about the rules first,” you tell him a bit less timid. It’s almost like a business transaction right now. “You can’t touch me unless I give permission first, which I normally don’t. When the time is up, it’s up. No begging for more. This is just a lap dance. Don’t ask for more, because this is all I do. If you want more, find another girl.” 

“You only give lap dances?” Lando asks you. 

“Yes,” you confirm.

“Thank god,” Lando sighs. 

He doesn’t know where this reaction is coming from. He’s just glad that other guys can’t touch you as well. Before you can ask him about his reaction, there’s a slow song starting. Apparently it’s your sign to start dancing. In no time you’re closely pressed up against his body. Slowly grinding your ass against Lando his body. It takes a lot from him to stop himself from touching you. 

Lando doesn’t know how to act. The moves you’re making are making him lose his mind. It’s insane. He wants to touch you, but he can’t. There’s nothing more he wants then to press his lip against any place of your body. To discover your body with his hands. To do whatever you allow him to. But he doesn’t make any movements. He lets you do your thing. He can’t however stop himself from questioning you. 

“What’s your real name?” He asks you when he notices that the song is about to end.

You grind yourself on his clothed dick and even let out a soft moan. Something that surprises you as well. Normally you absolutely hate doing this part of your job, even saying no whenever you can to the private dances. But this guy, he’s doing things to you as well. And that without even doing things.

“I’ll tell mine in return,” Lando tries to convince you. He doesn’t know that you know who he is. You know a lot more about him then he suspects at this point.

“No need Lando,” you tell him. You see how his eyes widen from the surprise. What you don’t see is that Lando feels like he’s really losing everything right now. It sounds heavenly to hear you say his name. “But,” you continue with a soft voice, “if you promise to keep it a secret, you can know mine.”

“Promise,” Lando quickly says.

The music has stopped in the mean time. You know that you have to leave this room, but before you actually do so you move closer to Lando once more. 

“It’s y/n,” you whisper in his ear, “and maybe if you come again, you can figure out some other things about me.” 

It’s the first time ever that you ask someone to come again. 

You really hope you’ll see Lando again. 

the second time at the stripclub

It surprises you when the following Tuesday Lando is already back in the stripclub. You wonder if it’s for you. Or is it just a coincidence? It doesn’t take you long to notice him. He’s early and it seems like he’s alone this time. Before you can think about it in any more details, you’re already distracted by the others girls in the dressing room with you. 

They have seen him as well. It’s not that weird for a celebrity to be seen in this stripclub. It’s Monaco after all. Charles Leclerc has been here a couple times as well and many non formula one related celebs as well. But still, it seems like your coworkers have found some interest in Lando as well. They keep talking about his good looks and how they would drop everything for him. How he can have his way with them, even discarding the rules of the club. “If he wants to fuck me, who am I to say no?” One girl even jokes.

It makes you annoyed in some weird way. Before you had a small bit of hope for Lando to pick you again tonight. But now you realize that last time his friends chose, this time he’ll probably try someone else. Maybe even one from your coworkers who doesn’t follow the rules. 

While standing in front of the mirror you decide to change your outfit again. Now that you know that he’s here again, you have another outfit in mind. It’s a bit more orange then what you’re wearing now, some may even say that it’s more papaya. 

Lando has already made sure that you’re his after your show. The small room from before has been booked again. Since he met you last week, he couldn’t stop thinking about you. He needed to see you again. So, here he is. This will probably be the last time, he just needs to prove to himself that you weren’t that special. He hasn’t been this close with another girl since his ex, that must have been the cause for his extreme reaction. 

When you show up in a tiny papaya dress on the stage, Lando has lost all his earlier thoughts.

Fucking hell. He was so wrong. You’re more then special. You’re everything.

He watches your show. He can safely say that he didn’t even miss a millisecond. He saw everything. He couldn’t even tear his eyes of you if he wanted to. 

After your show he’s quick to walk towards the same room as last week. This time he can find it himself. When he’s standing in front of the door, he suddenly starts to feel nervous. Isn’t it weird what he’s doing? What if you think he’s creepy? 

Before he can back out, you’re already opening the door for him. You’re glad when you notice that it is him again. 

“You’re back,” you softly state.

Lando can only nod. 

“That’s great,” you tell him with a smile.

When he walks inside the room with you, he can’t stop focusing on the way your ass bounces every time you take a step. It’s making him even more aroused. When you take him towards the same sofa as last week, Lando lets you. He sits down and waits for the music to start. He waits for you to start dancing again. 

You position yourself on his lap. The music can start any minute, but before you want to do something else. Carefully you take Lando his hands into your own. You place them on your own body. Lando is quick to show you a confused look. 

“Don’t make it inappropriate,” you joke, but there’s a truth hiding into your words. Lando nods quickly. He doesn’t move his hands. The feeling of your soft skin underneath his hands is already enough for him. Softly he holds your waist, waiting for you to continue.

Then the music starts. Lando loses himself in your moves, but he makes sure that his hands stay on your waist. It surprises you. When you’re done a few minutes later, Lando has many questions for you but has no idea with which one he should start. Eventually he asks you the worst one.

“Why?”

He doesn’t need to explain himself, you know what he’s asking. 

“Money,” you answer as if it’s the only possible answer. For you it is. 

Lando grabs his wallet, doesn’t think about his next movements and gets all the cash he has out of it. He gives you all of it. You don’t know what to say or do. Thankfully you accept it.

“Take the rest of the week off please,” Lando softly asks you. Then the lights in the room are going on again. It’s your sign to leave. You do however nod at Lando his question. 

“Next week, same time?” You ask Lando jokingly before leaving the room. This time it’s Lando who shows you a nod.

You’re boss is ready to kill you when you tell him you’ll only work on Tuesdays from now on. Lando his money is maybe not enough to make such a decision, but you’re sure about yourself. You’ll manage. 

the fourth time at the stripclub

Every Tuesday he’s here again. Always at the beginning of the night. He’s the first one to book you for a lapdance. He’s also the only one you agree to. You guess that he pays your boss good money, because the guy doesn’t even complain anymore if you deny other guests. 

Last weeks you have gotten to know Lando better. Conversations are still small and awkward, but you have the idea that you’re getting somewhere with Lando. Before you always went to the stripclub because ‘you had to’, now you’re looking forward it. Lando changed things for you. Even the dance you perform for everyone is almost nice now. You love the feeling of Lando watching you. It even makes you feel kinda aroused. 

Sometimes you can’t stop staring at Lando when you’re dancing in front of the crowd. It’s insane how he makes you feel. Is it weird that it almost feels like you’re crushing on him? That must be weird.

“Babygirl,” Lando greets you happily when you walk into the room. You’re quick to greet him back and give him a small hug. Lando smiles at you. He can safely say that Tuesday has become the favorite day of his week. Sometimes he thinks about coming more often, but he barely can. His schedule is busy and there are a lot of races. It may be only Tuesday that he sees you and he doesn’t even speak to you for a long time, but he really likes it. Maybe he can even say that he likes you. Not that he’s surprised about that, it was pretty clear after the impact you made on him the first time.

Slowly you move your body over Lando. You let your ass grind on his cock. Lando feels it hardening underneath your touch. Things feel different today. It almost seems like you’re doing even more then the other times. You make sure that with every move, you make contact with his crotch. Shaking your ass as sensual as you can.

When you turn around and take place on Lando his lap, he lets out a moan. Normally he has to take care of himself after what you’re doing to him, but this time he already starts to feel close to an orgasm. You grind yourself on his lap. It makes him insane. When you grab Lando his head and softly move it to your neck, the hint is clear. Lando let himself explore your neck and shoulders. He presses soft kisses against it.

It seems like you want him to enjoy things even more. His hand, which was earlier sneaked around your waist, is now in your hand and on it’s way to a new location. Lando lets out his hardest moan so far when he feels your boob in his hand. Carefully he moves his hand underneath your bralette. 

“Can I?” Lando asks you just to be sure. 

“Yes please,” you’re quick to reply.

That is everything it takes for Lando to start exploring your breasts. You let him know that he can use his other hand was well. He’s quick to do so. Softly he kneads your boobs. It earns him a soft moan from you. Something that only motivates him to continue his movements. He gives one of your nipples a soft pinch, it causes you to let out another moan. 

When the music ends, the two of you don’t even notice. Lando is focused on you. Your focused on Lando and his touch. It’s a loud knock on the door that brings the two back of you back to reality. You know it’s one of the security guards, who’s telling you that the time is up. 

Fuck. You think it, Lando says it. 

“Fuck,” Lando mutters. 

“It’s more for extra time,” you softly tell Lando. 

“Since when do you do extra time?” Lando asks you, referring back to his first meeting with you in which you told him that time’s up means time’s up. 

“Do you want to masturbate or do you want me to help you out?” You ask Lando. 

It’s almost unrealistic how hurried Lando gets to the door. He’s quick to open it, put some money in the worker his hands and slams it close again. Now he can only hope that he didn’t hear you wrong. 

He’s rather quick to find out that he heard you correctly. You’re dropped to your knees and sitting in front of him. When Lando was talking with the security member, you appeared to pull off your bralette. Lando can’t stop looking at your boobs. Since when is he this easily affected by only boobs? Lando almost feels ashamed for himself. He feels like a teenage boy.

You help him to undo his belt in the mean time. Lando pulls down his pants. His boxer stays on - for now he guesses. You press a soft kiss on his member through his underwear. Then you take it in your hand. His boxer doesn’t stop you from stroking his boner. Lando is quick to let out a couple moans caused by your movements. 

It’s the first time you’re doing something like this in the club. You know that other girls use this as a way to make even more money. Crazy enough, this isn’t about the money. You really want to make Lando feel good right now. 

He might have felt like a teenager before, but when Lando feels himself getting so close that he’s about to cum in his underwear - he really thinks he’s acting like one. 

“Fuck y/n,” Lando moans when his orgasm hits him. 

You can only smile proudly when you feel the wetness coming through his boxers.

the seventh time at the stripclub

You’re always happy when it’s Tuesday and you’re waiting for Lando again. After the first time you helped him getting off, things have changed between you two. You might not have kissed yet or have sex, but his dick has been in your hand and mouth a couple times now. It’s even arousing for you as for him. 

“Hey,” you greet Lando enthusiastically when you walk into the small room and see him sitting already. Lando shows you a small smile while greeting you back. His tone is less enthusiastic then normally. You wonder what’s going on. There’s barely time to figure that out. The music is already starting and you move yourself around Lando.

“You don’t have to,” Lando tells you. Confused you back out a bit and look at Lando. There’s something wrong, but you can’t figure it out. Lando does however pulls you closer towards himself and positions you on his lap. It’s nothing new that he touches you. Since the second time you danced for him, you allowed him to. 

“What’s wrong?” You eventually ask Lando. He even seems sad how longer you look at him. 

“I won’t be coming for a couple weeks,” Lando explains, “I guess three weeks?” 

“Oh?” You’re quick to match Lando his disappointed voice. Why isn’t he coming the next couple weeks? You wonder if it’s something you did. What if he’s never coming back again? 

Lando quickly notices you disappointed look. Is it bad that he kinda likes it? Not that he wants to disappoint you, but he’s glad that he isn’t the only one who doesn’t like this. Maybe he can finally state that there’s something more going on between the two of you. 

“It’s the triple header princess,” Lando explains to you, “After that I’ll be all over you again.” 

“Deal?” You jokingly ask.

“Deal.”

The music has come to end end in the mean time. You hear the last tones fade away. It means you have to leave this room, but you don’t want to. Lando doesn’t remove his hands from your body as well. You can’t look away from him. Then Lando does something unusual. He softly grabs you chin and gets your face closer to his own. 

“Can I?” Lando asks you. 

You can only nod. Then you notice Lando coming even closer. His eyes are pretty from this close. You notice all kind of stuff. If you wanted to, you could count the small freckles on his face. But Lando is quick to snatch away your attention. Softly he presses his lips onto yours. 

It feels good. Almost too good. You know that you’ve never kissed with someone like this before. Lando seems to be careful with you, something else then your used to from exes. Lando is enjoying it too. He can’t seem to pull back anymore. If it’s up to him, he stays like this for the rest of the night. And maybe longer. 

When you slowly pull back from Lando, he’s quick to send you a questioning look. “The time,” you softly whisper. Lando nods understandingly. 

“I’ll see you when I’m back,” Lando tells you.

Before you can anything, Lando adds something else.

“I promise babygirl.” 

“I already can’t wait for you to come back,” you confess. 

That causes Lando to press another soft kiss against your lips. 

the eight time at the stripclub

It’s Sunday night. Lando couldn’t stop himself. After his race he barely made time for the press and the debrief from his team. He could only focus on getting home. Or better said, getting back to you. Last three weeks have been killing him. Every time he had a moment free, he could only think about you. And not in the way your body feels on his own, or about your magical hands and mouth that make him cum as if he’s a teenage boy experiencing his first orgasm. No, he can’t stopt thinking about how he feels while he’s with you. 

Now that he thinks back at it, his friends did find the solution for his bad mood when they took him to the stripclub. They might have thought that it was because the activity, but they brought him to you. 

Lando is pretty sure about his feelings for you. He thought about telling you about them when he saw you the last time, but he didn’t dare to. Now however, he’s sure that he needs to tell you. He needs to get you away from that terrible strip club for the rest of your live, so you can be his. 

When he walks into the stripclub he’s quick to try to book you for a lapdance later tonight. It annoys him when he hears you aren’t taking those tonight. Lando is quick to wonder if you’re already booked? Fuck. He barely thinks about things like that because it makes him so upset every time. He knows you’re a stripper. Other guys have seen your body barely clothed, maybe you even gave lap dances to other guys - maybe you’re doing that right now. Lando tries to shake off the terrible thoughts. He needs you to be his.

Only his.

In the mean time you’re making yourself ready for a night as bottle girl. It isn’t your normal job. Normally you don’t even work on this day. But, because you needed a favor from your boss for upcoming Tuesday you had to do this in return. You have decided that it’s one of the last times. The favor you needed was the small room for the same amount of money Lando pays normally, but then for the whole night. It’s the last time you plan to be here. You need to tell Lando about your feelings, then you need to quit and watch how things will go.

The only reason you kept the job for this long, is because of Lando.

When you walk outside the dressing room and start to waitress for your first table, you’re quick to feel annoyed. You boss coupled you at the worst table. It’s one of the tables that has the highest price, which causes the guests to think everything is about them. 

Lando looks around and wonders if you’re even working tonight. He doesn’t know your schedule. He doesn’t even know your phone number. Why didn’t he ask for that before? He doesn’t take a seat, he keeps looking around in hope to find you. 

It doesn’t take longer then ten minutes before one of the guests from your table starts to act inappropriate. “I believe you can make those other tables wait for a moment,” the guest tells you while gesturing you to take a seat next to him. You softly sigh but give him what he wants. In no time his arm has found a place on your shoulder. It makes you uncomfortable. You want to stand up and leave again, but the guy holds you on your place.

“Maybe you can give me a lapdance princess?” The guy asks you. The nickname annoys you. It feels wrong. You start to miss Lando even more. “I’ll pay you a lot for it,” he whispers as if it’s a secret. You try to deny him, but he has already pulled you until his own lap. You squirm while trying to get away from him, but the guy only likes that more. 

Lando realizes that he has gotten in a more private area from the stripclub by now. He has never seen this part before. It seems more luxurious then the rest of the place. He guesses this is for the guys who spend a lot of money here. Not for someone like him, who’s only spending money because he fell for one of the girls. He walks around, but doesn’t suspect to find you here. 

Then he sees you. It seems like you’re sitting on some other guys lap. Lando doesn’t even notice the look of discomfort on your face at first. He can only think about getting you away from there. This will sound crazy and way too possessive, but he needs to figure out a way to get you to quit from this awful job. He needs to find a way to make you his.

One of the guys on the table is the first one who notices Lando. “Hey Lando!” He yells enthusiastically, “Come join us.”

It’s that moment that you notice Lando as well. You try to get off the lap from the guy, but he still has a firm grip on you. He doesn’t let you go. Lando notices it. He even starts to notice the uncomfortable way you’re sitting and the annoyed look on your face. He can barely withhold himself from calling you one of his typical nicknames or your own name.

“Come here,” he instructs you as polite as he can manage, “You’re forgetting about my table. Everyone is thirsty.” He is lying and he can only hope that everyone will fall for it. The guy seems distracted and you use the moment to get out of his grip. Quickly you stand up and walk towards Lando. You’re so happy with him right now that you can kiss him. 

Not that you don’t want or can’t do that any other moment.

Lando doesn’t think anymore. He feels your presence next to himself. It makes him glad. The jealousy that has builded up in his chest seems to get a bit smaller again. He does however manage to instruct you something else.

“Tell your boss that you’re quitting and then meet me at the entrance.”

You can only nod at Lando his instructions. He seems a bit mad, but you aren’t sure if he’s mad at you, those guys, your boss or someone else. His jaw is slacked and a fierce gaze is found in his eyes. He looks when you walk to your boss, he notices the way the man his face falls flat - probably because he won’t get Lando his money anymore and then he sees you turning around again. That’s his sign to get to the entrance. 

When he sees you coming towards him a bit later, Lando is quick to grab your hand. “You’re coming home with me,” he tells you. You can only nod.

the first time at Lando’s place

“Fuck,” Lando curses, “The things you’re doing to me.” His lips are dragging on your neck. The elevator ride seems to be never ending. Lando his hands are all over you. “It’s unfair how fucking beautiful you are,” Lando continues, “Need to feel every part of you.” 

You’re thankful when the elevator reaches the right floor. Lando doesn’t give you the chance to walk for yourself. He picks you up and walks with you to his own apartment. Within the first seconds that you’re inside, Lando is already walking towards his bedroom. He drops you softly on his bed and hoovers above you. 

“Lan,” you softly moan when he softly sucks on the skin by your neck. 

He moves and presses his lips on yours. The kiss isn’t soft. It’s hard, rough and shows you exactly  how much he has missed you lately. His tongue is fighting with yours for dominance, something he wins in only seconds. Lando lets out a soft groan when he releases himself from you. 

“You’re mine,” Lando grunts. He almost says sorry after saying that. An ashamed feeling starts to creep up on his chest. But when he hears a soft moan leaving your mouth, he starts to feel less nervous about his remark. “Yours,” you even tell him with a soft voice. 

“Yeah?” Lando asks you. He needs to make sure that he heard you right. In the mean time he focusses on getting you out of your clothes. Not that you’re wearing many. 

“Yes,” you confirm. 

Lando pulls you on top of himself. “I want you to dance like normally,” he instructs you, “I want to feel your naked body on mine while you do so.” You’re fast to remove his clothes as well. All your clothes have piled up on the bedroom floor. Lando lets out a soft moan while he feels you grinding on his dick. 

“Feels even better like this princess,” he moans. 

“You know,” you softly say, “I was earning a favor from my boss tonight. Had planned a whole thing for you this Tuesday.” 

“Oh?”

“Yes,” you admit, “We had the room for ourself for the whole night. After that I was planning to quit.”

“Was it a goodbye for me?” Lando asks you confused. You lower your body. Softly you grab Lando his boner. You align it with your entrance before lowering your body even more. When Lando his dick enters your cunt, you let out a hard moan. Lando moans as well, but he keeps waiting for your answer. Were you going to say bye to him? Forever?

“It was not,” you confess, “I hoped it was a hello for our new life together.”

Your words silence Lando for a bit. He has no idea what to say. You slow down with your movements. Lando keeps thinking. Does this mean what he thinks it does? You like him? You what to explore those feelings for him? 

“I like you babygirl,” Lando confesses, “I really do.”

You increase your pace. Riding on Lando his dick while confessing how much you like him too. “You’re made for me,” Lando moans while he feels close to his orgasm, “Fucking made for only me.”

In only minutes the two of you focus on the way your orgasm hit. Lando groans. You let out a self yelp. Lando shows you a small smile, you return it. 

“You do realize that you’re my girlfriend now, right?” Lando asks you jokingly. 

“Duh,” you reply with the same jokingly tone. 

Lando presses his body close against yours. In some weird way he can’t wait to tell everyone about you. He’s never leaving you again for three fucking weeks. It’s only the conversations with his friends who were here with him the first night will be a bit different. But he doesn’t care about things like that. He can’t wait to show you the world. 

Lando presses a soft kiss against your cheek. “But, you can’t forget how to dance like this,” Lando tells you, “You really need to keep doing this to me.”

“Idiot,” you laugh.

“Maybe you need to practice again?”

Lando has your on top of himself in no time again. 

a/n: a small smutty one shot for you guys :)) for now i'll focus on my mini serie 'the roommate' again, but you can always send requests xx

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Overblot Universe (4) | Yandere Twisted Wonderland

Part 1 • 2 • 3

There he was 

The first overblot you witnessed 

The Overblotted Riddle was as regal as ever 

Standing above your gilded bed fit for royalty decorated by arches of spinning ink 

You could see guards that looked similar to the entrapped dormmakers during the event

Standing in front of heart shaped doors that resembled an inky reflection of the Heartslabyul’s dorm

“Look at me when I’m talking to you, (Y/n). I haven’t forgotten how you ran from my forces meant to bring you home.”

“I…was just scared. Your army was fighting with Jamil’s and I just didn’t want to get in the way.”

Riddle scoffed,”You think I’d allow any of my vassals hurt you?! I thought you heard me last time we saw each other.”

His gloved hands clutched your cheeks and chin forcing you to hold his gaze

“In my world, I am the law. I am order manifest! 

The words brought back the memories again

But you couldn’t drift off especially now that Overblotted Riddle was smiling 

You could practically smell the idea of something awful coming from him

He let his ink gloved hands trail from your jaw to rest around your neck

“I have been eagerly awaiting the day I’d meet you again. For so long I’ve been replaying the sight of the collarless king working alongside those rogue cards.”

He pulled away leaving a ring of ink that tickled your skin, shaping to hug your neck letting a black splattered rose hang from it’s center

“All this time I’ve thought about having you and now I’m this close to having everything be perfect.”

You watched his eyes drift down your body, letting yourself follow his gaze 

Finding your outfit to be matching his own, you hoped it was just the ink doing its things

He beckoned you to follow him 

And the moment you deliberated you could feel the bodice of your outfit slightly squeeze 

So that was it’s purpose+

You hurriedly caught up to him minding the overwhelming line of soldiers collared and at the ready 

“Riddle what do you plan to do?”

Riddle’s distorted chuckle exploded into a diabolical laugh

Calming himself he turned over his shoulder as you both left the dorm/castle for the garden

“I’m recreating where we met of course. An unbirthday celebration that changed everything. A coronation that would have been perfect if you and those cards didn’t ruin it.”

Arriving to the entrance of the garden it was exactly as he said

The table and treats for an unbirthday party all different shades of black with that sheen that said was ink

All surrounding a grand stage where to thrones sat at the edge of it

He took your hand, more gentle than you were expecting and led you on a red carpet that led to the thrones

Out of nowhere this Riddle brought out a box setting it on a pedestal

He opened it to reveal a crown…fit for a king

“Bow, (Y/n) and receive your right as my king.”

Idia’s crown flashed in your mind making you cower instinctively

His glare was paralyzing

“Bow. (Y/n).”

The pressure around your body was intense, as if sapping your energy to make you fall to your knees

Riddle sighs,”That’s good enough.”

He places the crown on your head 

It doesn’t hurt like Idia’s but it feels hard to remove 

And as Riddle helps you stand you can feel the something wet drip from the  crown and into your eyes

But it doesn’t burn…more like clouding your vision as you were led to rest in the throne

“Now! Bring the relic! It’s power will be what finalizes your king's coronation!”

Carried by many of the soldiers was the mirror–The mirror that you originally traveled to 

“That–”

“Recognize it? This is the accursed object that let me bring you here. But it’s done it’s job and no one has any intentions of you using it again.”

“Wait but I have—to–go back!”

The overblotted Riddle gave you that sly smirk all to similar to the dormleader you knew

“You’ll find that world will fade from memory when the portal does as well.”

With a trumpet sound and coordinated shouts an ink covered axe was brought to Riddle

Despite being so close you couldn’t lift yourself from the throne, courtesy of the ensemble you were wearing

You could feel your tears blend with the ink trailing down your face as the Overblotted Queen raised his axe to smash the mirror

You tried to reach in vain as he brought the axe down

You felt as though it was helpless 

Until you heard a whisper

“(Y/n) don’t despair we wouldn’t leave you by yourself.”

A new bout of energy let you sit up

“Oh my gosh! It’s you! You’re here!”

“Hush, we’ve got to be quick the main event is on its way.”

“I summon thee cauldron!” 

[killerlookz]

She Makes Dirty Words Sound Pretty: Pt. II | Joost Klein

Description: Joost Klein x f! reader (part two to this fic here) Joost returns home from tour, and he and reader finally get to rekindle their relationship with some much-needed make up sex.

Content: 18+ nsfw, mdni- rpf smut, oral (f! recieving), fingering, unprotected PiV, allusions to past angst/relationship issues but mostly just comfort/fluff

Word count: 4,379

Your eyes flutter as a soft touch against your cheek pulls awake you from your unconscious state. Heavy eyelids prying themselves open, fighting against the weight of sleep. Your bedroom is drenched in moonlight, providing just enough clarity to identify the figure that stands above you.

"Joost?" Your straining voice thick with sleep as your eyebrows furrow, confused, but you'd be lying if you said a smile wasn't tugging at the corners of your lips.

"Oh," He responds, lips just above your forehead, "Schatje, I didn't mean to wake you." His voice soft and apologetic.

"No," You mumble, heart pumping, far too ecstatic for your exhausted state, "You're home?" You outstretch a lazy arm, reaching for the lamp on your bedside table so you can actually see the man you're talking to. With a click, the room is enveloped in a soft orange glow. Your eyelids snap shut at the initial brightness, too harsh for your eyes, sensitive from sleep.

Last you heard, Joost wasn't supposed to be home from tour until tomorrow evening. Not that you could complain about his early appearance, it had been a hard few weeks without him.

You stare at the man above you, his glasses hanging down his nose, exposing his eyes, the pale skin surrounding them seeming darker than usual with hints of purple, his hair, messy. He looked exhausted, you figured it had been a while since he had gotten a good night's sleep.

"I was able to get an earlier flight." A small smile appears on his lips as he slowly stands up from the position where he hovers over you.

"Didn't tell me." You pout

"I didn't want you waiting up for me." His head falls to the side, apologetically.

"No? Just going to hover over me in the dark at-whatever time in the morning it is."

Joost shakes his head, chuckling,

"You make it sound so creepy."

"It is a little creepy," You giggle, "Waking up to some guy hanging above my face."

"Just giving you a kiss goodnight."

"Then why don't you come to bed?" You ask, patting the empty space next to you.

It was then that you had realized perhaps subconsciously you had been leaving room for Joost in bed every night. It had been over a month since you had last shared a bed, and yet still you had continued to sleep on "your" side of the bed, not allowing yourself to sprawl out.

"A few minutes, okay?"

You nod, your head falling to the side, still sleepy.

You manage to keep your eyes open, however, as you watch Joost walk away from you. You track his movements with your eyes, your gaze not leaving his body as he walks about the room.

There had been a lingering tension in the room, one that lightly dulled your excitement of having Joost home. Many words had been left unsaid between the two of you, having thought it better to push aside discussing those tumultuous first few weeks he had been away until Joost had gotten home. Neither of you wanted to deal with emotions getting lost or misunderstood over the phone anymore, both you and Joost wanted to fix your relationship, not continue the cycle of arguments you had unfortunately fallen into.

Still, things had been amicable between you, being able to hold conversations like normal- but, that gnawing feeling of obvious feelings having been unspoken did not cease.

Despite the tension, your heart still flutters as you watch Joost undress on the other side of the bedroom, stripping down to only his boxers. A smile grazes his lips as he looks up at you, catching you staring at him. You smile back, unashamed of how hard you had been looking.

"Be right there," The grin lingers on his face as he goes to toss his clothes into the closet. You take this moment to turn off the lamp beside you, the room once again now only lit by moonlight.

Moments later he's walking back toward the bed, the mattress dipping as he climbs in next to you.

Immediately, the two of you are meeting in the middle of the bed, wrapping a leg around his as you pull yourself near him, his arm snaking around your waist. You close your eyes as your lips meet his in a gentle kiss, so soft yet still filled with so many emotions. Joost grips you tighter, holding you firmly against his,

"I missed you," He mumbles, pulling away only slightly, his lips still ghosting yours as he speaks.

"I missed you too." It wasn't solely a physical missing him, but missing the Joost before tour, the Joost before the arguments and nights ridden with anger and spite. But as you lay in each other's arms, it feels as if you already have that Joost back, the Joost that wouldn't ever dare to hurt your feelings, not even in the slightest, "I'm glad you're home."

It felt ridiculous even saying having that Joost back, he had never left, and deep down you knew it, under no circumstances would either of you truly intentionally hurt each other.

You feel Joost's chest rising against yours before he lets out a large exhale.

"Mmm," He hums, nuzzling his face into your cheek, "Ik ben zo blij om thuis te zijn." (I'm so glad to be home), A small kiss is placed against your jaw before Joost speaks again, his words becoming slower, "Met mijn lieve meisje" (With my sweet girl)

"You're exhausted." You giggle, Joost had a habit of mixing up languages once he got to a certain point of tired, often speaking in some combination of English and Dutch, but it seemed now he had forgotten English entirely, "Prober wat te slapen." (try to get some sleep),

"Ahh," Joost's breath tickles your neck as he exhales, "You should speak Dutch more, zo mooi klinkt." (sounds so pretty)

You can't help but feel a little bad, your usage of Dutch in day-to-day life hadn't exactly been nearly as much as it should have been for someone with a Dutch boyfriend, living in the Netherlands. Despite the length the two of you had been together, and how long you had been living here you had yet to feel confident enough to use it so often.

You simply hum in response, unsure of what to say as you snuggle up closer to Joost, burying your head in his neck, and wrapping an arm around his torso. You had missed this closeness, realizing just how much you craved his touch as Joost's arm snakes up under the T-shirt you had been wearing, feeling his palm grip your now-exposed skin.

"Hold on," You mumble, sneaking out of Joost's grip, grabbing at the bottom of your shirt, pulling it over your head. You toss the fabric somewhere in the room, leaving both of you clad only in your underwear.

The two of you were long past the point in your relationship of there being any shame or shyness around nudity. There was nothing inherently sexual about your decision to further undress, rather the move was done solely due to your desire for skin-to-skin contact with Joost.

As you go to lay back down, Joost turns on his side, pressing his chest to your now bare back. His skin is soft, the warmth of his body heat exuding a familiar warmth as he presses his face into your neck. He wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you close to him.

"Slaap lekker, ik hou van jou." (Sleep tight, I love you.) Joost mumbles into your ear, and you can tell sleep is quickly overtaking him.

"Ik hou ook van jou." (I love you too.)

You wake up with a low groan, immediately noticing the sharp pain in your neck as you attempt to change your position.

"Ugh," You moan at the sensation, eyes fluttering open.

"Hmm?" You hear a hum from next to you, remembering that Joost had come home last night.

Inhaling deeply you turn your whole body to the side, wincing at the way your neck aches with your movements.

Your boyfriend lies next to you, awake, but his eyelids are still heavy as he looks at you. You forget the pain you're in for just a moment as you admire his peaceful state, his face illuminated by the soft orange glow of sunlight.

"What's wrong?" He asks, voice thick with sleep.

"Slept weird." You furrow your eyebrows, "My neck really hurts."

"Mijn arme meisje," (My poor girl) He pouts, "C'mon," He stretches a hand to your waist, "Roll over, maybe a massage will help."

Wordlessly, you comply, rolling onto your stomach, trying to adjust yourself comfortably against the pillows, tilting your head to the side so as to not suffocate yourself.

The bed dips as Joost moves from his position, a hand grazing your thigh, motioning you to pull your legs apart so he can sit between them.

You can feel Joost hovering above you as he kneels between your legs, his presence is a comforting one.

"Good morning," He mumbles, leaning forward, pressing a kiss to your exposed shoulder blade.

"Morning." You respond, silently hoping for him to kiss you more. But soon enough his thumbs press against the back of your neck, the rest of your fingers just barely resting against your throat as he softly massages the spot where you're sore.

A small gasp leaves your mouth at the sensation, your eyes forcing themselves shut.

"That feel okay?" Joost asks, a tinge of concern in his voice.

"Perfect." You sigh, letting yourself enjoy his touch.

He continues for a little while longer, gentle moans leaving your mouth as he soothes your pain with the palms of his hand. After a few minutes of silence, Joost speaks again,

"Are things okay- between us? You've been short with me since I got back."

"Oh," You exhale, "-M'just tired." It's only partially the truth, you know you can't skirt around having to discuss the issues the pair of you had had at the beginning of tour for much longer, but you're hoping to divert the conversation for just a little bit more so you can revel in this moment, "We can talk about everything later. Let's just enjoy our morning"

"Okay," Joost's voice barely above a whisper, "Want me to go lower?" His hands trailing down to your shoulders.

"Mhm," You hum.

Joost kneads into the skin of your shoulders, eliciting more moans and sighs from you. His touch is just firm enough to be effective, yet still gentle, romantic.

He continues massaging down your back as you're enveloped in a comfortable silence. All tension seems to be erased from your body as Joost works his hands against you. There's no stress, no worries, only him and his reassuring touch.

Joost finds himself sliding his hands down your hips and to your thighs. He grips each thigh with one hand, his fingers pressing into the supple flesh. A familiar tightness creeps between your legs as you realize where he has positioned himself, and how close to your inner thighs his thumbs are.

You sigh as your back arches into his touch, forcing his hands a little further up your thighs. Joost continues his movements, his fingers inching closer, and closer to the inside of your legs.

"Like that?" He asks, his voice making it evident he already knows the answer.

"Yes." Is just about all you can manage out.

Joost swipes a thumb across the crotch of your panties, shivers running down your spine as he does so.

"How about if I touch you here?" He presses his thumb right above your clothed entrance, "Would you like that?"

"Please," You strain, your inner thighs pulsing with a growing arousal.

Joost's thumb ghosts over the fabric of your panties a couple times, swiping back and forth, teasingly, before pulling them to the side.

You gasp as the cold air from your bedroom meets your now exposed wetness before Joost slides a thumb through your folds, gathering your arousal before pressing on your clit. He draws circles against the sensitive nerves, coaxing gentle moans from you.

You need him terribly, as enjoyable as phone sex had been while he was away on tour, nothing could ever compare to the real thing. Sometimes it felt like Joost knew your body better than you did yourself, always able to make you feel a sort of pleasure you hadn't known was possible.

"Lay on your back," Joost commands, his voice still gentle. You do exactly as he says, whining a little at the loss of stimulation as his hand leaves your crotch.

You lay flat against the bed, staring up at the ceiling as Joost's fingers find themselves in the waistband of your panties, sliding them down the length of your legs and discarding them across the room.

Perched between your legs, Joost motions you to bend them, putting you on full display for him.

"So pretty," He muses as his eyes trail your naked figure. His small praise has your body hot as you position your gaze towards him.

His tongue swipes across his lips as he stares down at you, eyes aflame with desire. You had never seen a picture so perfect, the way that the warm glow of the sun seeped into your bedroom, illuminating him just right. You marveled at the man in front of you, even after years it had felt unbelievable that he was yours.

Joost leans forward, letting his hands rest on your thighs, pulling them apart. Soon his lips are pressed to your abdomen, soft kisses being littered against your skin before they eventually trail lower. One final kiss is placed just above your clit, forcing your back to arch as you all but beg for him.

A smirk graces Joost's mouth before his tongue leaves his lips, softly licking at you, forcing a sharp, "Oh," to leave you.

His tongue circles around your clit a few more times before being replaced with his lips, sucking at the bundle of nerves.

Each new movement of his mouth against you has you whining with pure delight, his tongue slowly trailing down to your entrance before dipping inside.

"Fuck.' You sputter, your hands finding their way into his hair. Joost's tongue flattens against your cunt, licking a long stripe from your entrance to your clit, before pressing a kiss to it. The sensation has you gripping at the messy blonde strands of his hair, causing Joost to groan. The vibration his low voice makes against your pussy causes your abdomen to tighten, and your body to twitch in pure delight.

He pulls back for just a second, making you whimper at the lack of stimulation,

"Taste so good, schatje," He mumbles, pressing a kiss to your inner thigh, "God, I missed this- missed your pussy."

His sweet words only make your body grow hotter, tingling with fervent arousal.

He continues to work his tongue against your cunt, skillful licks followed by sporadic kisses. The pleasure you feel is so intense that it is almost painful, loud, high-pitched moans now replace your soft whines.

Joost's lips envelop your clit, sucking at the swollen bud, his mouth is warm, wet, and unrelenting against your sensitive nerves, and you feel your legs trembling, you know you're close.

Your fingers grip Joost's hair, tight, as the stimulation almost becomes too much to bear.

"So close," You whine, but Joost doesn't seem to acknowledge your words, only continuing to push you closer to completion with his mouth. You rock your lips against Joost's face, forcing his tongue further onto you.

Your eyes force themselves shut as you feel your orgasm crashing into you, no words can escape your mouth, only strained noises as your toes curl, muscles tense, and legs twitch. Your cunt spasms under the pressure of Joost's warm mouth, your arousal spilling out of you and onto his tongue.

Joost doesn't spare a single drop as your orgasm rolls over you, the intense wave slowly subsiding as your eyes flutter open. Still, Joost's tongue remains buried inside of you, collecting your release. His lingering licks force a strained whine out of you, sore with overstimulation.

Joost eventually pulls back from you, his wet lips trailing kisses on your thighs before raising his head completely.

You struggle to catch your breath as Joost's head emerges from between your thighs, sitting up, a grin pressed against his lips, glossy from you.

You swallow thickly as you look down his body, noticing the way his cock strains against the tightness of his underwear, the white fabric spearing no detail about how he was feeling.

If he were to touch you now you'd surely cry from overstimulation, yet- somehow it seemed to be all you wanted- him, buried deep inside you.

Joost rests a hand on your thigh before turning a sympathetic gaze to you,

"Too tired to continue?"

"No," You shake your head.

"Good," His lips curling into a smirk, "I know you can hold out a little longer for me."

You nod, affirming his words,

"Need you, please." You whine, staring right at him, your sore legs parting once more as you speak.

Joost lurches forward, holding himself above you with his arms positioned on either side of you. He lowers himself slightly to press a kiss to your lips. You moan at the lingering taste of your release on him.

His kisses trail to your neck, sucking softly against your beating pulse. Your desperate hands roam his body, aching just to feel him.

"You know I love you, right?" He mumbles against your neck.

"Mhm," You sigh, content, "I love you too."

He lifts his head from where it is buried against you, looking straight down at you once more, shaking his head,

"I don't ever want to lose you, liefje." He speaks in earnest, eyes widening. Your heart feels like it's skipping beats as his intense gaze lingers on you, drawing out those feelings you had been keeping unsaid.

"I know," You whisper, "We're going to be okay." You nod, you know it. Joost nods with you, his gaze softening as he lowers a kiss to your cheek.

"You don't know how bad I've wanted his," Joost's voice is suddenly low, seductive.

"I think I do," You smirk, "And I think I may want this even more."

"Yeah," He breathes, "Why don't you show me then, mooi meisje" (pretty girl)

Joost rolls over, landing on his back, causing the bed to bounce slightly. You straddle Joost's legs, fingers trembling with excitement as they tease the waistband of his boxers.

You lean forward, pressing kisses to his stomach, eventually leading down to the elastic of his underwear. You can feel his breathing deepen as your lips grace his waist

You let your hand fall from where it toyed with the elastic, your palm rolling over his crotch. You feel his cock twitch under your light touch. You flick your eyes up to him, where he lays, propped up on the pillows, mouth open slightly.

You smirk as you continue to palm him through his boxers, his hips beginning to buck into your hand.

"Come on, schatje." He just about begs, hips stuttering forward. A smirk graces your lips, "Fuck, come on, I need you."

There's something of a desperation in his voice, his blatant desire for you just about knocking the wind out of you. Yes, teasing him was fun... but fucking him was definitely way better.

You bite your lip, your head lowering in a slow nod as your fingers return back to the waistband of his boxers as you begin to tug them down. He doesn't hesitate to help you out, lifting his back just slightly so you're able to pull them down his thighs, his hard cock springing from the confines of the fabric.

You give him a sheepish smile as his back returns to the mattress, leaning forward once more and wrapping your hand around the base of his cock. Your firm grip causes him to grasp as you slowly begin to pump your hand up and down the shaft.

Joost's head tips back as you continue to work your hand up and down his cock. You feel your own arousal growing as you watch his face, his jaw clenching as struggled groans leave his mouth.

"Stop that," He breathes out, "Come here, want you on top of me." He beckons.

You remove your hand from him, slowly crawling up the length of his body before stopping, now straddling his upper thighs. Joost flicks his head up, motioning for you to continue. You sit up, positioning yourself above him.

"That's it," He purrs as you grab the base of his cock, lining him up with your entrance. The head grazes your wet folds, causing you to gasp, only craving him more. You look back up at Joost, waiting for permission to continue. He nods fervently, "Go on, I know you want it."

"Yeah," You sigh, maintaining eye contact with him as you begin to sink down on him. Your lips purse, forming a straight line, eyes squeezing shut as he begins to stretch you out, and you take your time to fully take him in.

"Fuck, liefje," Joost groans as he bottoms out into you.

"You want me to go faster?"

"No," Joost breathes out, "No this is perfect, take it slow, schatje, enjoy the moment."

You're fine with that, slowly raising your hips until only the tip of his cock is in you, before sinking down onto Joost once more.

Joost sits up, grabbing your hips to help guide you at a steady pace that feels good for both of you. But it's not long before his hands leave your hips, palms sliding up and down your body, the pads of his fingers grabbing at you, groping wherever he can get his hands on.

"Joost," You whine as he hits that perfect spot inside you, "Oh, fuck, Joost."

"Feels good?" He asks, knowingly, his breathing heavy, "It's like you were made for me- fuck, you were made for me." He remarked at how perfect you felt around him.

All you can respond with is a series of sloppy moans and whines, the feeling of him inside you making your brain go numb.

"That's it," He groans, "Use that pretty voice, show me how good you feel."

Joost settles his grip on your ass, his dull fingernails digging into your flesh, pinching just enough to elicit a delightful sting. Joost's handle on you once again helps you maintain a steady pace as your legs begin to tire, muscles starting to burn from your consistent movement. To further help you, he begins bucking his hips in time with your movement, thrusting into you as you sink down onto him.

The way he repeatedly hits inside you makes it hard for you to concentrate, your only focus is on the overwhelming amount of pleasure you feel, each thrust forward coaxing you closer to another orgasm.

You begin to fall forward, your head resting on Joost's shoulder, as your chest collides into his. Your bodies are hot, sticky with a thin sheen of sweat, and the heat he gives off is almost unbearable as you rest against him. But the rest of your body is far too overwhelmed to sit up straight

"I love you," You slur out against his neck, dizzy off adoration and pleasure.

"I love you too, liefje," His hands lose their grip on your ass, instead his arms coming around to hold you at the waist. Joost places small kisses on your shoulder as your movements quicken, losing any pace, "I love you so much." He reiterates.

You're close, heat building in your abdomen as every muscle in your body constricts. You know you can't hold on much longer, your orgasm about to hit you at any moment now.

"I'm gonna-" You sputter, unable to finish your sentence as its broken by a sharp moan, your cunt clenching as an intense wall of pleasure smacks right into you. Your eyes flutter, your whole body twitching as your pussy spasms around Joost's cock, causing him to groan, your movements becoming sloppier as your release spills out of you, lewd, wet sounds filling the room.

"Good," Joost exhales, "Cum all over my cock, liefje."

Your orgasm soon disappears as Joost continues to thrust upwards into you, pleasure soon turning into overstimulation as you slump completely into him.

"Not much longer," He reassures, "You're doing so good."

Tears begin to spill down your cheeks at the feeling, your already sensitive nerves being worked to the extreme.

Joost's hips start to staccato, his thrusts becoming sharp, causing you to yelp into the spot where your head is buried into his neck. He grips you tighter, feeling like he's about to suffocate you before with a last grunt he's spilling into you, warm ribbons of cum coating the walls of your cunt with a few final thrusts.

Your body is trembling as you attempt to lift yourself up from where you lay against Joost, your body still tingling with lingering pleasure. Your eyelids are low as you look at Joost, your face carrying an entirely blissed-out expression.

A smile falls on Joost's lips,

"Oh," He chuckles, a hand coming up to wipe the tears from your cheek, "These are the only tears I ever want to make you cry."

You return a smile to him before his expression changes,

"Het spijt me, schatje" (I'm sorry, baby), His words are full of regret, "I'm so sorry for how things have been."

"I know," Your voice barely a whisper, "I'm sorry too."

"Things will be better, now that I'm home," He presses a kiss to your shoulder, "I promise."

"I know- I know they will," You nod.

If there was anything you knew for certain, you knew that you and Joost loved each other too much to stop fighting for your relationship. A rough patch of a few weeks had been nothing in comparison to the countless happy memories the two of you shared.

"Ik hou van jou, liefje," Another kiss to your shoulder, "Don't ever forget that."

[kiryuzbbygirl]

Just brain rot at this point >:) warning: cervix fucking kinda? cum eating. dirty its just dirty read at your own risk. SMUT its gunna be dirty requests are open >:) not proof read either who do I look like :p

!!MDNI!! I DO NOT MAKE CONTENT FOR YOU <3 !!MNDI!!

Several mentions at the bottom but too long to fit without a line breaker sorry

Just thinking about.. How whiney he is when he's needy, almost begging you to just hold his hand or even just breathe his name. He won't say it outright though, he will wait till he can't anymore before just exploding.

He's throwing you over this shoulder, tossing you onto the bed as if you weighted nothing, feral hazed eyes bore into yours as if you were simply his prey. Crawling up the bed, knees digging into the plush of the mattress as he hovers over your frame. A devilish grin mocking you as he lowers his head lips against yours. It was tender.. soft as if it was a calm before a storm.. and how right you would've been.

Hands tied to the headrest head pressed into the pillow as his hands gripped your waist tight enough to surely leave bruises his hips stilling against yours, cock pressed securely against your cervix, a painful bliss filling your veins. A growl leaving his throat as his head rolled back a hitched laugh leaving his lips. "You keep sucking me back in, maybe I'll just stay like this see how long till you break and beg me to cum just once. Wha'cha say hm? you want that?" His words wanted to sound harsh but even he knew he wouldn't last that long. "want me to break you so badly you won't even be able to remember your own damn name" he chuckle making your walls flutter around him, a groan leaving his lips. "Youre so dirty aren'ya" His words slurred almost, and how deliciously sweet did it sound to his ears when you cried out his name.

Round after round you would think he would've had his fill, but he was far from finished with you. You would think he had been attacked by some sex demon with how pent up he was. His head was between your legs, fingers sliding in and out of your sensitive hole. Tongue flicking over your clit giving it gentle sucks as his eyes remained locked on yours, groans, moans leaving his lips as if he was starved, having been starved for weeks on end. He couldn't get enough of you. Pent up, craving you was so deeply imbedded in his veins.

His tongue slurping every single drop of his cum and your arousal, hands in his hair as you tried to push him away but he was unmovable, not moving a single inch from your overstimulated pussy. Legs shaking, eyes filled with tears pleas of 'no more' falling your lips as he pushed himself up onto the palms of his hands. Caging in your hips between his frame and arms peering at you with a cocky grin. "oh but my poor baby, you were asking for me to do this to you for weeks. Fuck me till the sun raises.. it's only 4am. We still have a few hours and I intend to make every single second count." He does take good care of you. Losing count of how many times the both of you came that night, the aftercare was just as amazing. Tender touches and hushed 'I love yous' relishing in the afterglow of everything.

it definitely was a night to remember.

----------------- Windbreaker: TOGAME, REN, HARUKA, Suo, ENDO TOK REV: RINDOU, MANJIRO, DRAKEN, Ran, Sanzu, Shinichiro, Wakasa, HANMA JJK: MEGUMI, Yuuta, GOJO, YUUJI, Choso, Sakuna, Nanami, TOJI and your faves

[ordowrites]

when you are sad

cw: none, simple fluff and comfort, self indulgent, no pronouns used / gn!reader. slight vent, i'm sorry. established relationships.

characters: diluc, kaeya, wanderer

bad days, weeks, months are simply just bound to happen. that's sometimes how it is, and kaeya is no stranger to such things. he'd mourned the loss of family many times, and has his own, long bouts of depression.

misery loves company and he finds you out at starsnatch cliff, staring up at the endless sky and for a moment, he considers leaving you to yourself, knowing that sometimes being alone is better but he can't help but linger for a brief moment.

finally, kaeya simply elects to sit next to you and gently drapes his arm around you and pulls you close.

"it's gonna be okay." he murmurs as you slump against him. "i promise." it feels like lip service but it's all he can offer when in reality, he would take on all your troubles if it means never seeing that somber, upset look on your face ever again. he holds you closer and you rest your head on his chest. "i love you."

he never says those words out loud to anyone - let alone you, the one who caught his eye so long ago.

"i love you." he repeats, firmly. "i know it can't fix whatever is going on, but just...just remember that."

you are all the things that are right in this world - you are ambitious, outspoken, there is not a moment where you have surrendered simply because the going got tough. yet, seeing you in tears and frustrated has diluc at a loss.

your spirit is like wildfire, it burns everything in its path and here it is, damped and gone, in the wake, ashes.

"what's the matter, my beloved?" diluc is tender when he gently cups your face and wipes away your tears. it doesn't matter if you tell him or not, you'll talk about it when you're ready. "hey, hey, shhh..." he grunts in surprise when you grip him into a tight hug. "it's okay, it's okay, i'm here."

unlike kaeya, diluc isn't very good with words and he doesn't always know how to make things better (and sometimes tends to worsen things) so when you hug him, all he can do is hold you just as tightly.

he has adelinde make you your favorite food - after all, food is a love language - and prepare you a bath that you can soak in. it doesn't fix the problem, but he hopes it can at least provide some sense of comfort.

there's something about your expression that's frustrating him - the wanderer is not unfamiliar with human emotion, in fact, he understands them quite well after four hundred some years but he is perplexed by you. normally, you return his snark ten fold, you're loud, you're obnoxious, and pushy, and when he calls you an ass, you have ten times worse words for him.

"what do you want?" you ask him, tone flat. you're exhausted, he notes as he takes the seat across from you. "go away, i don't have time."

"well, i do." he retorts.

you roll your eyes. "news flash, the world does not revolve around you."

"it should," the wanderer responds, crossing his arms over his chest. "tell me what's wrong."

"i don't want to." you respond.

he snorts. "fine, have it your way." he says, grumpily. "but don't think, for a minute, i'm leaving your depressed ass alone."

"why?" you have the audacity to ask.

the wanderer, for once, does not have a proper answer for you. or a retort. he simply just stares, hopes you drop it and let it go. after awhile, he gets up and goes inside the cafe and orders you some cake and some weird sounding cold coffee. humans and their need to change things.

"a wise deity once told me that sweets can sooth the soul." he says, upon your quizzical look. "i assume she must be right."

for the first time in the two hours, you crack a small smile. and the wanderer feels victorious.

[georgiapeach30513]

How I'm Looking At You, Part 2

Summary: so many secrets

Pairings: Ari Levinson X Reader

Rating: mature

Warnings:  conversations about sex, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 6.3K

Previous

Series Masterlist

*dividers created by @firefly-graphics

You walk towards the clothes section of the store. Having to make sure that there wasn’t anyone watching you, especially him. You swear his intensity broke you out in a sweat. He is the cause of your clammy hands, and you still haven’t come down from the car ride. You’d sent him on a mission with a list to get some things you needed, and you are on a separate mission. One that you didn’t want to get caught doing. You figured you could shoo him away while he gave you his card and you could pay.

Yeah, of course that makes more sense in theory, but you’d be willing to try to get him to trust you enough. Your eyes look over the different colors, patterns, materials, and shapes. All the shapes. What did it mean? Being at this store where there is food, nobody would ever question why someone dressed like you was here. People from your community just didn’t usually venture to this section, but would Ari? No. For some reason you think Ari would keep a lot of secrets for you.

Ehh, that didn’t sound good. You have secrets now. Secrets with Ari. You smile, grabbing up a pack quickly. You have secrets with Ari. And what did it all mean? He mentioned pleasure. Which is a sin. Pleasure of what? The flesh? You’d heard that before, but aren’t sure what it means. Something you aren’t supposed to do. But with Ari it seems — welcome? Unwelcome? No, it was welcome. It made your heart beat funny, but you liked it.

And what did that even mean? You feel tingly all over, and it was all you could do to bolt out of the truck and create some space between the two of you. What are these feelings? Why did all that happen? That was all new, and it felt like you couldn’t control anything, especially your body. But you couldn’t even control the way you’re speaking.

“Is that what you’re choosing for me to buy for you?” It is him standing there like a walking sin mixed with a brick wall, complete with a big beautiful smirk on his face as he lifts up the pack. “Or are you just needing new panties?”

Your eyes go wide as you look at the floor, and shake your head. Heat radiates all over your body, pooling in your cheeks, and your panties. Every time you get around him there’s definite heat streaming from your belly to your nether regions.

“Surely these aren’t the type of panties you wear under there?” You shake your head no, still refusing to look up at him. Ari grimaces. He’s not used to being around a woman so timid. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry. But do you really think you should go with thongs? And a pack of them? If you want panties I can order them for you online, no one would have to know.”

“Online,” you respond dumbly for reasons you just don’t understand. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t want people to know you wear these kinds of underwear?” You shake your head no again. His boots are dirty. That’s all you are learning from where you’re looking. Dirty boots. “Can you look at me? I won’t bite,” it feels like you’re swallowing swords as you gulp, and lift up to look at him. “There, now are these the panties you want me to buy you?”

You nod your head, eyes flitting around the store, and thankfully there still wasn’t people around. “Are these what you really want?” You shrug. You really had no clue. Anything had to be better than the non elastic nonsense you are wearing. “Do you need them right now?”

“Not really, but…”

“Okay, I’ll get some here, and if you want me to pick you out some to have delivered to my house, I can do that.”

“I can’t take them home,” Ari grins, and turns to walk back to the packs of panties, while you nervously watch around. “What are you doing?”

“I feel you jumping into thongs, while they’d be very sexy on you, especially if I was the only one who knew what you have hiding under that dress,” Ari clears his throat, drifting through the selection before grabbing a pack. “Thongs are a big step. Let’s do baby steps with bikinis, yeah?”

“You won’t say anything?” He shakes his head no, tossing them into your cart, and yawns. “We should be getting back, um…”

”You go onto the truck. It’ll be our secret,” you are getting a lot of secrets between you and Ari. You’re not even sure if this is a good or bad thing. But you like having secrets with him. And you know you shouldn’t.

“Shh, don’t tell anyone,” he grins as you trot away. He feels slightly guilty. Only a little teeny tiny bit. He’ll buy you every pair of panties that you want him to, as long as you show him. Maybe even one day have you modeling them for him. Or even better, let him push them into your mouth, so you don’t get to loud when he’s fingering you.

“Sir!”

Ari looks up at the cashier. How did he even get here? He was just in a world of his own thinking about you being all submissive and wet for him. So wet. So incredibly soaked for him. “Yeah, sorry.”

“Didn’t you come in with that Amish woman?”

“No,” he answers too quickly as she scans the pack of panties. He would never be buying you anything here again. You deserve the best. Silk, satin, lace. Not those. She starts scanning again, continuing to focus her eyes on him. You deserve specialty panties. Always the best.

“You know that they don’t integrate people like us into their world, right?”

“You know you should really mind your fucking business and just ring up my shit,” the girl looks back down at the items, shocked that Ari was so blatantly rude. But she is the one that was rude. How dare she ever say something about you. She didn’t know you at all. So far you had shown to be timid, yes. But you are different.

She could say what she wants about your community, but not you. You are perfection in a too large frumpy dress that he couldn’t see your curves, and he salivates knowing that nobody has seen those curves. Touched those curves. Kissed those curves. Gripped them so tightly as you come undone for the first time.

You were just looking at panties. You had a curiosity that was going to end up killing him, and he didn’t care. He wanted to nurture that side of you. Keep you growing with secrets that are just for him. Plus you are sweet, so so sweet. You probably taste sweeter. You didn’t belong here, but as long as you were here, he would respect that. And he would be here with you.

“Thanks,” he says, handing her his card. “And next time you should really think about things that you say to people. Don’t act like people’s differences aren’t beautiful.”

“Ari!” You giggle, turning back around from the sink as he walks in again. Smiling ear to ear as he walks past the kitchen. “Quit coming inside. Do you not trust me?”

“Oh, I trust you. I just have to make sure you’re doing your job right, and,” he presses a finger up against your mouth, shushing you in the process. “I need some water. So carry on,” he keeps his eyes on you as he fills a glass with water. His mouth continuing to keep a smile, while you try and give a stern look towards him.

“Darling, you have so much work to do,” he says playfully, but you don’t want to take your eyes off the tall man. “Or, we could make it an early day.”

“And do what?” He is always saying things like that, not realizing that you didn’t grasp exactly what he means by that.

He shrugs, leaning back against the counter. He puckers his lips out, and looks up at the ceiling contemplating. “What do you do for fun?”

“Fun,” you awkwardly laugh a second, but it falls quickly. When was the last time you actually had fun? What are your hobbies? Something that made you, you. The bigger question is when were you allowed to have an identity that didn’t fit the mold of everyone in your community, “Hmm…”

“It should not be this hard,” he doesn’t make fun of you, he stares at you gently. It’s comforting that he isn’t judging you by decisions that were made for you, “Do you not get to have fun? Do you read? Go cow tipping? Swimming? Anything?”

“I read the Bible,” his thick finger scratches his beard for a second, staring out in thought. “We don’t tip the cows, and when I was little my dad took me fishing, but I didn’t really have friends. And there’s always so much to do on the farm, not a ton of time to do leisure activities.”

“Oh, honey,” he stands up straight, walking over to you with his arms spread out, and you gaze up at him confused. What is this gesture? “Come on, give me a hug,” you shake your head no, trying to busy yourself with the lunch dishes. “Yep. Bring it in. You now have a friend.”

“Men and women shouldn’t engage in suspicious behavior inside a house. People could think we’re being unpure.”

“And what would you know about that?” He cocks up an eyebrow, and suddenly you feel so small. You know nothing, only what you have just said. What exactly did men and women do together that is unpure? “Darling, if we were being unpure, you would not be as quiet as you’re being right now. Our clothes are on.”

“What?” You glance up at him quickly, brows furrowed. He’s such a strange man. You couldn’t quite figure out if he was joking or being truthful the majority of the time.

“Sweet summer child, if you don’t want a hug, you can say that. But if you do, and you’re just worried about what other people will say, let me know. I’ll know when to back off. They’re out on the east field and on the other side of house if that makes a difference,” it kinda did. You look towards each of the windows that are in the kitchen before very awkwardly pressing up against Ari. Another secret.

“Omph,” his arms pull you in closer. Holding you in both a soft, and still dominant way. His head rests on the top of your head, and even though he’d been outside working, he smells nice. Too nice.

“Now, isn’t this nice? Do you want to read? I could get you some books and…”

“I couldn’t take them home,” he pulls apart from you too quickly as he stares at you curiously again. It’s summer and hot, and still you want his warmth, but his curiosity is too cute to look away from. It’s a habit he has, and you don’t know how to feel about the way he observed you. No one has ever done that. Does he understand the way that he makes you feel? There are always so many questions rummaging through your mind when you’re around Ari.

“Hmm, I have a bookshelf here. Built it myself. And you could keep the books you can’t have at home there, and we can make this a fun little morning routine,” what is this man going on about a morning routine? “You’re here to fix my breakfast, shouldn’t you eat, too?”

“Oh,” you hadn’t thought about that. Would it be proper? No, but it is the polite thing to do, so he’s not alone. He isn’t how you expected him to be. “Are we…is this a friendship?”

“This is exactly a friendship!” Ari snaps, and you take a timid step backwards. “Sorry, no, I’m just excited you get this. We’re friends, right?”

“Well you did buy me underwear,” he purses his lips. Staring at oddly, and you start giggling. You have a sense of humor, and it’s one thing he honestly admires. Every now and then little jokes weasel their way into your conversations.

“You just made a joke,” still laughing, you nod your head, missing his face going serious. “Do they fit? If you need me to check and see if they fit, I can.”

“Are you asking to see my panties?” He is an odd man indeed. “Is this a normal thing where you come from? And if I show you mine, are you going to show me yours?”

His hand wipes across his forehead, and you think he’s feeling the uncomfort that you have felt around him. Not an uncomfort that makes you want to run away, but one that makes you want all the things he talks about. Even if they scare you. “I wouldn’t say it’s something that everyone does out on the streets, but friends can become very close. And sure, if you want to see my underwear, I can arrange that for you.”

“So yes, you want to see my panties?” He nods his head, and you’re unsure how to respond. You like being around Ari. Love it actually. He is very odd, and yet entertaining. He actually talks to you instead of averting his eyes. He cares about what you think of things, and wants you to have fun and have hobbies. Men in your life weren’t like him, or look like him, “Maybe another time though?”

“Is there something wrong?” You shake your head no. There isn’t anything wrong currently, but the longer he stares at you the more you feel that weird creeping heat bloom in your belly.

“Your farmhands are outside. They’re not my friends,” you hope he understands what you’re saying because everything inside of you is screaming that you don’t want them to know what you are wearing under your dress, or worse, see it. You’d be ruined, and your family.

“Ahh! How could I be so stupid. Okay, I will buy you some books, okay? Fill up the bookshelf. I’m sure my sister has some recommendations for you to read, and we can — I don’t know, have a regular routine, yeah?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’d like that. Our secret, right?” Add another one. But breakfast with Ari, both of you reading, and conversation is minimal sounds nice. Domestic even.

“Right. Our secret. I’m gonna just go — you know, go work,” he really needs to. He’s been in here for far too long and people will wonder exactly what is up with him being around. Friend. Friend Ari. You like it.

He is going to get you books to read, and you could have a real hobby. Learn things about his world. It sounds fascinating from what little you have heard from him. You liked him. He makes you smile, and laugh. Sometimes you forgot what it was like to laugh. You were out at the general store all alone, and left to listen to those girls talk about your lack of a husband. This is comfort. And he didn’t care that you are single.

You’re unsure of how you were able to make this situation comfortable, but you did. Hmm, you have something to look forward to, and make more money. And you have a friend. Even if he is odd. He’s nice to look at, and he makes you feel…

He just makes you feel. Feeling in a world where you’ve been taught to repress all of that. It’s freeing.

Ari takes a look back at the house, and then to the horizon. It is hot. Too hot. And he can see your silhouette as you do something in the house, and he isn’t there with you. He has this pull towards you. You need teaching. He is the perfect teacher, even if he is struggling to pull the reins. He enjoys you. He didn’t dislike Jacob and the other two that he can’t be bothered with knowing their names.

But you are a completely different thing. You encompass every part of his thinking, and he is excited to wake up knowing that you are going to be here, and he gets to see you! It’s amazing to think about the fact that he has you everyday. Here in his home.

He has never been a man that cared about domestic life or having one woman or children. But even he has to admit the appeal to seeing a beautiful woman in his home on a regular basis. You have only come for a couple of weeks, and it’s a nice touch to his home. Even if there’s a small part of him that loathes the way that the women are treated here.

You thought that what you are doing right now was what you were designed to do. You had no hobbies of your own, but thanks to him, you enjoyed reading. He even caught you reading instead of ‘doing what you’re supposed to be doing’. He wants you to have a fulfilling life. And he suspects with you slightly pulling away from the life you were brought into that you feel the same way. And if he has to be the one that helps you, so be it. He’ll do what he needs to. Maybe more hobbies.

Ari stands up straight, wiping the sweat off his brow as he looks towards Jacob who steadily works. “Boys, let's call it a day.”

“Work’s not done,” Jacob continues to sow the seeds, and Ari grimaces. He didn’t care. He wants the day with them here to end. He wants private company with you, “We need the money.”

“Your pay won’t reflect the early time off,” all three of the young men stand up, gawking at Ari, and looking amongst themselves. “It’s too hot. We’re ahead of schedule. Take the rest of the day off,” they linger. Unsure if what Ari is saying is a test. He wants to shout for them to leave, but that approach didn’t seem to help.

“Do you guys go swimming somewhere? Or do anything for fun?”

“I went to a barn raising one time,” now Ari is the one that gawks at his employees. “No. We don’t.”

“Okay. Here,” reaching into his pocket, he pulls out a hundred dollar bill each handing it to the boys. “Go spend some money. This is a bonus. Just go home. Have fun. Go. Leave,” the youngest one, Joseph or Daniel or Jedidiah, walks off first, and the others join with him. “Thank you,” he whispers before turning towards the house. You could have the rest of the day off with him, and he could learn some more things about you.

Waiting for long enough for the workers to leave, he walks into the house. Slinging the door open wide, and you yelp. Running to the front door and see him smiling. “Are you okay? What happened? Is everything okay? Why are you smiling? Ari?”

Slowly he closes the door, but his smile remains. “Do I need to get you something? Are you coming down with anything?” He shakes his head no, removing his work boots. “Well, I haven’t even started your dinner, so if you could go back outside and work, I can get started.”

“Don’t worry about dinner,” you didn’t understand. He called you in to do a job, and now he isn’t allowing you to do your job. You ponder that thought a moment, watching as he walks towards his bedroom. “It’s very hot today,” you agree. It is stiflingly hot. It is days like this that make you thankful that you are the woman. “And you are in here all alone.”

You like it that way. It has given you time to think, and with your current predicament you need that time to think. His books he’s given you have left you with more thoughts, and imaginations. Oh. You gulp as Ari steps back into the main area of the house. Gone are his work clothes, and now he’s showing his legs. Long and toned, and you bite your lip trying to keep any unwanted sounds from appearing. He has that effect on you.

“About dinner.”

“Don’t care about dinner,” he is too quick for you. The men in your community didn’t look like him, and they didn’t behave like him either. They never searched for a friendship with a woman. They just have them to expand their legacy with children. Secretly hoping for a male heir so their family name lives on. “We can pick something up in town later.”

“We?” The idea is scandalous, but not unwanted. There are very few times you wished you were a woman of the world, but there’s something appealing about riding around in the truck with Ari. There has been the idea of asking him to buy your normal clothes, so maybe nobody would recognize you. You had random imagines about being a girl he actually wanted, and one that looked like she belonged in his truck. That had to be where the funny feeling in your — belly is coming from. Those imagines of his hand holding yours.

“It’s hot,” you give him a nod, he’s already said that. You had heard about the English speaking in round about ways, and right now you wish he would just be completely honest about what it is he wants instead of beating around the bush. “There’s a swimming hole way back behind my house. Care to join me?”

“I can’t swim.”

“I can teach you,” he could teach you a lot of things, but maybe swimming is a great place to start. Ari doesn’t care about the rules, the two of you have broken so many, so he just wants to see how far he can go.

“What would someone wear swimming?” preferably nothing, but that would take things way too far for you. He doesn’t even know how to respond to that because all he can envision is you in those panties he bought you that he hasn’t given you, and a bra. Again, he hasn’t given them to you, and he thinks it might be weird if you knew that he’s bought you various kinds of lingerie. “Ari?”

“There are suits. All the important parts would cover you.”

“Important parts?” Dammit. He needs to start thinking before he speaks. “So what is exposed?”

“Legs, arms, and,” you shake your head no. You couldn’t possibly show so much skin especially around a man. “Okay, how about you just go to the swimming hole with me, and I’ll swim, and you can decide what you want to do from there?”

It didn’t sound too bad. In fact sticking your feet into cool water, while you sit down and enjoy the sun makes you smile. You read about kids that played around a river. Maybe not in it. Being able to just be present and enjoy a moment of nothing never happens. You don’t really slow down in this life. “Okay,” this could be a big mistake, but you want to do it. You want to spend extra time with Ari. “I would like that,” he smiles, and you feel fuzzy again, but nowhere that you have ever felt before. Well, before Ari.

You’d noticed he really likes it when you voice your opinions to him. In this world you didn’t get to have an opinion, your husband did. But he cares about what you like, and what you don’t like. Seeing him smile makes it all worth it, and still you wonder what is happening to areas much lower than your belly. Being around him you always have that fuzzy feeling in your stomach, but when he smiles it's in unmentionable areas, and you just don’t understand. But you didn’t hate it either.

“Amazing,” he extends a hand out towards you, and you’re too tempted not to grab it, and he leads you out the back door.

“You’ve done amazing work out here,” his hand pulses around your own, and you look up at him, and he’s smiling again. He likes simple praises, you’ll do it more often, “You’re much taller than the men here.”

“I hope that’s a good thing, Darling,” that name. The name that makes things nearly unbearable. The name that you hear in your head throughout the night, and a need to do something. It’s like a scratch that needs itching, but you just didn’t know what scratch could fix this feeling, and…who would you even ask about this?

“It is,” he smiles again, and you seriously want to melt. The temperature must be getting hotter because you feel sweat beading around your hairline, and your throat dries right up, while other things start to — you can’t even mention it. It’s confusing. How does a smile create a fiery need in — areas?

The swimming hole comes into view, and Ari drops your hand. He grips the bottom of his shirt, and pulls it off in one movement, and you spin around immediately. Cheeks steaming with embarrassment, but other things…it’s so hot. He’s so — he’s so something, and you are a mess. Ari yanks down his shorts before he walks over to a deep part of the river, and jumps in.

“Darling, you can look,” he’s absurd. You can’t look at a naked man. But you want to, just because it’s an experiment. He’s a man, you are a woman. What is different on him than you?

“You’re naked, Ari,” his chuckle is so deep and haunting that you peek over your shoulder. “Ari, I can’t be around you when you’re naked.”

“I’m not naked. I’m fully clothed,” you peek more, and notice the swell of his chest poking out of the water. His hair on the amazing pillows of his chest is dripping into the water, and you whimper. He most certainly is not fully clothed. Hair pushed back off his face, and that stupid smile. And heat that you’re sure is from the pits of hell.

“Ari! Your clothes are right there,” he wades to the edge of the river, and gets out, and you spin around again. You feel so weak. He is more broad with no clothes on. Legs and arms sinewed with muscles, and his body is dripping in almost the same way as your own. “You are naked.”

“I promise I’m not. This is what the English wear to swim. You’re not seeing something other women haven’t,” oh that doesn’t sit right with you. Be brave. You spin around and fully take him in. Other women didn’t need to look at his body. He’s your employer, and if anyone deserves a right to stare, it’s you. You don’t just stare, you gaze. Taking in every part of his body. Tracing every line with your eyes, and he stands there looking like the worst temptation.

Like the time you snuck a bite of the pie before it was cooled down, and you smoothed it back out, so no one would know. Keeping that secret still to this day. But you don’t want anyone else to have him as a sin. You want him as your sin. What does that even mean? You need to ask for forgiveness, because he is the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen. You could write books and poetry about him. And you want to take your time as you discover each vein that follows along his arms, and every hill and valley that makes up his stomach and chest.

“You okay, sweetheart?”

“Yeah,” you squeak out, walking past him. It’s hard to do that, but you have to sit on the edge of the river bank. Pulling up your skirts and kicking off your shoes, you let your legs dangle enough into the water, so your toes get refreshed. Your entire body needs it. Squeezing your thighs together seems to help a little bit. But still there is an emptiness, and you want to ask him about it, but what could he possibly know?

He goes back into the river, swimming about a bit. His eyes are constantly drifting to your legs, and then your ankles, “So this is what you English people do for fun?”

“Uh huh.”

“And what does a woman wear?”

“Depends on what she’s comfortable with. Some only cover the same as panties and a bra, and some go completely nude,” what? Women swam completely nude? With other people present. “Usually that can be a fun little date.”

“Date?” You’d heard the word before, but didn’t know if you fully understood it.

“Two people just hanging out getting to know one another. Usually it’s when they’re sexually attracted to each other.”

“Sexually?” There is that word again. “What exactly is sex?” You know you’re attracted to Ari, he is perfect and beautiful, but what is sexually? Or even sex?

He takes long slow blinks, while his eyes transfix on your legs again. That stupid heat gets higher, and you rub your thighs together. This helps more than squeezing them. Your heart rate is everywhere. You’ve never felt it in every part of your body, but also…in the worst place.

“Well when two people like each other…”

“Like you and me?”

“Yes, Darling. Exactly like us. We can use us as an example,” he looks like the devil and an angel all at the same time. “When two people like each other their bodies react. Weird things happen. Heat, pulsing you feel in places you never considered before,” he looks right at your stomach. No, not your stomach. He knows. He knows exactly what your body is doing. You should ask him. You should tell him exactly what is going on.

“And…ugh, this feels almost inappropriate,” he deeply breathes, looking away so quickly you think he had to have hurt his neck.

“Just tell me.”

“For us, at least, a man and a woman, in that scenario man, me, enters into the woman, you.”

“Oh. Oh!” Okay, that makes sense. So you mate like the animals. Hmm, “On all fours?” He cringes. “I’m sorry. I didn’t…” you’re saying all the wrong things. How does one receive a man if not on all fours?

“Humans have a plethora of options,” he doesn’t want to embarrass you, but he also doesn’t want to feel he’s completely corrupting you either. He knows how many lines are being crossed right now.

“Are you big like a horse…everywhere?” That feels more than mildly inappropriate, but you’re the one that brought it up. Adorably you look towards the water, below his waist, and that when it hits him. His own curiosity about you builds up so hard, steel hard. His cock twitches in his boxers, knowing that you are trying to figure out his size.

“Not quite like a horse, but arousal does change things,” hmm, quite like they’re changing him now. He couldn’t show you. That would be going too far, but he knows eventually you’ll ask. You still haven’t averted your eyes away from his crotch. He wonders from your angle if you could see how hard he is. “Why are you asking?”

“I have always thought it hurts the mares. I understand it’s a part of life, and she’s only doing what she’s born to do naturally, but it just seems so invasive. And humans do this to get babies?” He shrugs, it’s much more complicated than that, and that’s not the only reason. “It just looks painful.”

“Well, look at it as it is the way it’s intended. We’re created to be made to fit together, you know?” Okay, that makes sense. “People are meant to — mate with people. I suppose not all humans are meant to fit together.”

“How do you know that you found someone that you fit easily with?”

He gets a mischievous smirk on his face, wading closer to your body. His eyes focus much too low again before he makes eye contact. “Sometimes you just have to make it fit. The first time things are a bit tighter. But with prep and time I can make it fit. The woman’s body is amazing. When she’s ready to take a man, your body preps itself. It heats up, it gets so wet and sticky, making it easier for me to enter into you.”

“Does it hurt?” You are missing all the moments he’s actually saying ‘you and him’ because you are trying to figure sex out. In order for him to mate with you, you’d both have to be naked. He is almost naked. You pull your skirts even higher, all the way up to your knees, and he looks very quickly, enjoying the lower view. And a quick glimpse at the panties he bought for you.

“You’re very curious today.”

“That means it does hurt,” he’s ignoring your question.

“So I’ve been told. I wouldn’t know from experience because I’m entering into you, but I have been told it does sting,” he’s been told. Some other woman told him it hurt, and it wasn’t you. It actually makes you angry to think about the fact another woman has seen him naked, and felt him. You should be the one feeling him. What? What are you saying? New feelings explode in your body, mixed with the anger you feel.

”Why would anyone mate for more than having children if it hurts?” And why did another woman get to see him like that? And feel him? Did she get the fuzzy feeling? Did he look at her the same way? There is no way another woman feels the same way you do about Ari.

“There’s more to sex than mating,” how is that even possible? You only saw the animals mating to procreate. “It brings two people so close, both physically and spiritually,” oh now it hurts. Another woman was not only physically close to Ari to have him inside her, but they had a spiritual closeness, too? This isn’t even jealousy anymore, this is painful.

“Not to mention the amount of pleasure that happens will bring you to your knees,” you wonder if she felt the way you did. If she had this heat coursing through her entire bones, while she got to feel him. Got to have him in a way you couldn’t even comprehend.

“It sounds like a sin, Ari. It almost sounds like you are worshiping…”

“Worshiping at the altar between a woman’s legs is like a religion,” you sigh, looking at the water instead of Ari. Worshiping idols is a sin, but you’re more concerned with the fact he was worshiping a woman that wasn’t you. He finally said it. Whatever is happening between your legs is because of Ari, and he would worship you. But he worshiped someone else, and it pains you more than anything you’ve ever felt.

You push your skirts back down, giving Ari a final goodbye nod for the day. “I should go, Ari. I’ll eat dinner at my parents’ tonight.”

“Wait,” he climbs out of the river, walking after you. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” lying is a sin. He pulls you tightly against his body, hugging you, and this hug feels different. He feels…bigger. “Ari?” His hard rod pushes up against your stomach, and you feel an odd need to roll your body into his. This is so very confusing. Everything is happening at once, and it nearly blinds you in thoughts.

“Ignore it,” how can you ignore whatever is pressing up against you like that? Pulsing to the same rhythm as whatever is happening between your legs. “We’re okay?”

“It’s just a lot. And…that…” what you really want to say is crude and outlandish and you just can’t say it. You can’t let him know that you’re more scared of him now than ever. There is no way that thing would fit. And he’s worshiped between another woman’s legs, so he did fit. What if you weren’t made for each other? But he was with another woman. “Ari, I can’t.”

“Forgive me for being so outright, but not every woman makes this happen to me,” if he wasn’t holding you, you’d have sunk to your knees. Everything is so weak. There’s so many emotions and feelings, and you just want some alone time or time to explore whatever part of his body is touching you. The pulse between your legs is intense and you have a desire to ask him to help.

“It won’t fit.”

“I’m not asking to make it fit,” of course he’d say that because he has another woman. He doesn’t need you like you need him. Why are you so conflicted with everything? It’s physical and mental, and apparently spiritual.

“I’ve gotta go,” he lets his arms fall, and you dare to look. That didn’t help the feelings in your body. You have more questions. And you can’t ask any of them.

“You’ll be here tomorrow?” You give him a nod, realizing that everything feels hard on you. Even on your chest. What is happening to your body? The sweat is everywhere, and the residual water from him presses your dress around your skin, and somehow makes it feel nice. And your body is showing proof of its own changes as your nipples poke through your dress, “Okay, I’ll have some more books for you on the shelf okay? I don’t work too hard, and enjoy reading, okay?”

“Is it a sin?”

“It’ll be our secret, okay?” This is more than just the books, he’s talking about whatever this is currently happening between you two. You shouldn’t want it, but you crave it. You crave just coming to his house, and seeing him. But the idea of seeing him fully naked and pressed against you, takes your breath away.

“Our secret,” your secrets with him were adding up.

Next

Masterlist

@tis-thedamn-season @marveloustaylortot @pono-pura-vida @peaches1958 @seitmai

@smile1318 @andydrysdalerogers @cjand10 @midnightramyeoncravings @kmc1989

@pandaxnienke @rogersbarber @buckybarnesisdaddy @theinheriteddutchess @patzammit

@theolivia-1

[bitchimasnake-sss]

Hey love ❤️ I love the way you do Zoro angst. I was thinking like Zoro and the reader get pretty drunk at a festival and some guy sweeps her off her feet. Like she's all giggly and blushy and he's miserable about it. I was thinking maybe his perspective. She ends up not going home with this guy cause she knows Zoro's tendency to get lost. He's pissed off but also wasted so he doesn't make much sense. Maybe they argue. Maybe he drunkenly confesses. I think you can pick whether it ends well or not. I like pain.

mwuhahah i thrive off of angst (but i suck at writing it). this also shall have little bit of miscommunication trope (I HATE IT AS MUCH AS THE NEXT PERSON BUT IT MAKES FOR BRILLIANT ANGST HELLO!), and this ends in like unresolved angst and tension (cause i thought that was super funny of me). also a bit of crack included (cause im a jester and a clown and i enjoy making everything a bit stupid).

drunken liabilities ft. roronoa zoro!

set up: check above! the strawhat crew are invited to a celebratory party after saving an island from merciless pirates and somewhere between the drinking and the dancing, zoro finds himself yearning for a certain someone. warnings: dumb people, even dumber plot by me. mentions of alcohol, a fight, random party shenanigans; zoro gets jealous and petty. mutual pining by two idiots. "We're just crewmates" stfu no you're not. nami is the best thing in the universe. yeah, thats about it. wc: 2.7k

zoro saw you.

he saw your smile, and your ability to turn every one of his jabs into a nice, little argument. he saw the way you smiled, all self-satisfactory when you finally shut him up in those arguments. he saw the way you took him on in drinking competitions and how you giggled when he pretended to lose. he saw how pretty you looked, eyes hazy and cheek flushed after each of those competitions.

roronoa zoro saw you, whether you knew it or not.

but now, he saw you swaying your hips with your hands wrapped around a man. a maN?? A MAN THAT WASN'T EVEN HIM?

nami cleared her throat, raising the bottle of beer to her painted lips. she wanted to laugh at zoro's grumpy face, the way his eyebrows were knitted together. but being a woman of honour and virtue, she held back.

"fuck is wrong with him?" zoro muttered under his breath, mentally slicing up that man that was swaying with you. "why is he eye-fucking her?"

"you good?" nami laughed, finally.

zoro begrudgingly shifted his vicious glare from you and that stranger you were dancing with to nami. he gave her a shrug, "whatcha laughin' at, woman?"

"nothing, you're just murdering a man in your head again."

zoro said nothing, finding his words too simple to convey whatever it was that he was feeling. he didn't need to defend himself, after all.

it wasn't jealousy. pfft, ofcourse not.

maybe protectiveness? yeah, thats the word. you were part of the crew. and so, as the first mate, it was his duty to ensure that you were safe and sound from any imminent threat. even if that imminent threat was a man who you were dancing with. now, ofc, the swordsman wasn't a complete idiot. he knew that maybe he had a teeny, tiny-miny crush on you. maybe.

"i don't think it should be this normal for a person to be this casual about murder, zoro." the navigator egged him on.

"we're pirates, who cares." his shoulders slumped downwards as if to showcase his nonchalance about the subject matter.

"we care, we're the good kind."

"yeah, yeah. good kind." the former pirate hunter dragged the bottle to his lips, drinking in the intoxicating liquid as a light thump thump thump built in his head. he closed his eyes and tried to find a second of peace. but the people were singing too loud, and the makeshift lighting too blinding and if zoro recalled correctly, the sake he was chugging on was cheap as fuck. and he had had one too many as always.

typical celebratory things.

"you do know that she's single, right?" nami quipped after a minute, nodding in your general direction, "like, she isn't doing something morally wrong by dancing with a random dude. it's your own fault you're a pussy and can't ask her out."

he cracked open one eye, glaring at the red-head, "yeah okay, do you get paid to be all up in other people's business?"

"no," nami grinned, "but it's fun."

"right." zoro closed his eyes again and ran a light hand through his hair. he tried to guess where the other members of the group were. it wasn't hard to come to a convincing conclusion. he was sure that somewhere in the party, luffy, chopper, and ussop were busy playing some sort of food-related game. sanji was probably busy trying to pick up women. and the others mingling with the townsfolk. but you— what were you upto?

the swordsman's thoughts grabbed him by the collar and shook him like a wet, rabid dog. what if— what if you were swaying along with that man? your head on the stranger's chest, your ass hard against that man. what if that man took you through the unknown alleyways and up to his house and fu—

zoro whipped his face to look to where you were previously dancing. relief washed over his face when he found you on the dancefloor, still intoxicatedly dancing with the stranger.

but now the scene was different.

that guy had lifted you up in his arms. and the people around you (who were drunk out of their pea-shaped minds) hollered and cheered as you burst into a fit of giggles.

"hey, hey easy now." nami gently withdrew the glass bottle from zoro's grasp before he shattered it into a million pieces. the action from the navigator made the green-haired man looked down at his reddened palms in surprise. just protectiveness, right?

when nami spoke up again, she offered her (annoying) crewmate a sympathetic smile, "just go talk to her," zoro ignored the next part of her sentence, "when you're sober, okay?"

and that is how a very drunk roronoa zoro ended up in front of you on the dance floor.

the guy was swiftly carrying you away from the dance floor, to one of the darkened alleyways as you blushed and giggled when zoro approached the both of you.

"hey, i need to talk to ya for a sec." zoro's voice was slightly sluggish while addressing you, but the man turned around and gave him a confused look, "you want something, zoro?"

the swordsman shrugged, dismissing the well-natured man, "wasn't talking to you, was i now?"

drawing out your gaze on zoro, you scrambled off from the man's grip, standing up before answering, "sorry. what is it, zo?"

but it seems like whatever had been on zoro's tongue died within a minute of approaching you and that bastard. he resigned himself to a soft sigh, looking away from you. "nothin'" he grumbled, "nami was sayin that once you're done dancing, meet up with her."

"oh? is that all?" you asked softly, hoping that the stoic man would say something else.

but he was a man of few words, that you knew.

"yeah, well, she says she wants to walk back to the sunny with you. it's unsafe alone." he shrugged, "also, im heading back to the sunny."

"so soon?" and he nodded curtly in response. he gave the man next to you a quick side-eye before attempting to walk away from you at lightning speed.

by now the stranger had almost faded to the background as all your focus fell upon the man your captain called his first mate. as he walked away, his green hair were tousled, his walk a bit jagged up from all the alcohol. the overhead lighting plays with the dips and creases of his kimono and you found yourself following after him.

"hey!! where are ya going?!" the stranger called out after you but his voice faded between the rhythms and thumps of the songs and dances.

"zo!" you called after him, long forgetting the stranger that was spinning you around a few minutes ago. you caught up with him, "you know what? i actually wanna go back too, mind if i walk with you?"

he nodded solemnly, and you didn't mention that it was because you knew he would get lost and get drunkenly passed out on these unknown streets. and you didn't mention that you were worried about him, just because he was your crewmate. that's it.

the both of you walked in uncomfortable silence, as if something sinister was lurking around, waiting to ruin whatever peace remained between the two of you.

"you know." the swordsman voiced as he followed you into a dimly lit street. you were now far away from the celebratory festival, trying to take a shortcut to head back to the ship.

"hm?"

"you shouldn't get that close to a stranger." his words were innocent enough; a cautionary advice from one crewmate to the other. but it was his tone — dashed with a tiny bit of accusation — that made your skin crawl.

"well," you glanced back over your shoulder, finding his drunken form trailing you, "i don't really need you to tell me what to do. i can take care of myself, i know how to fight."

he scoffed, "oh, do you?"

maybe it was his tone. oh no, it was definitely his tone that pissed you off. so, you turned around. crossing your arms over your chest, you stared him down, "what's the problem with you?"

both of you were drunk, and the tension between you two ran high. one slip of tongue, one wayward action and the swordsman didn't know how the night would end— with you in his arms or with your dagger in his chest.

so, he decided not to take his chances. it was too risky, too bold. and the swordsman was never the kind to take uncalculated risks. so, he stifled his words and brushed past you. walking ahead now, he declared into the night air, "nothing's the problem with me, was jus' offering advice. don't take it if ya don't want it."

you followed suit, voice growing agitated, "why do you have a problem if i'm dancing with somebody else. or even making out or fucking them. it's none of your business. we're friends."

now it was his turn to turn around and glare at you, "i know that."

he paused for a second. were you really that stupid? did you not notice that whatever was left of his wretched heart belonged to you? or did you notice and you liked to stomp over it, anyways?

he finally sucked in a breath, steadying his drunken thoughts, "as you said, we're friends. you're part of the crew. and i was just l-looking out for you—"

"—well, you don't fucking have to. i am grown adult, zoro."

and just like that, whatever argument he had died within him. and he looked at you, dumbfounded. then, his gaze hardened and he stepped forward. were you really that stupid? or was he just that good of an actor for you to not see him the way he saw you?

he highly doubted the second one. maybe you were just very dense.

your breath hitched as he walked forward. if you had forgotten how scary the former pirate hunter can be, you were reminded right this second as you backtracked slowly. the two of you moved in tandem till your back was pressed against a solid wall and zoro stood directly in front of you.

towering over you, the menacing first mate said nothing as his gaze bore down holes into you.

"zo—zoro?" your voice was a meek whisper, eyes drifting downwards to avoid looking at him.

and suddenly, he was hyperaware of the situation he had forced you into. the closed proximity of it all, as you looked away from him. for someone who was a swordsman, he was certainly losing his patience. so, he simply pulled back, giving you some space. he sighed, he had clearly drunk too much tonight.

all that alcohol with all that pining was messing with his brain, "you should stay back, i'm going to the ship."

"what are you talking about—"

"—just go, enjoy. you're right, it is none of my business who you see." and with that the swordsman walked away.

"huh?? zoro!" you yelled after him, an unyielding resolve in your voice, "whe- where ARE YOU EVEN GOIN' ALONE? YOU'RE GONNA LOSE YOUR WAY!"

but in his classic avoidant way, he ignored you. taking long steps through the dusty road to reach the ship.

"oh my god, are you GONNA MAKE ME RUN TO REACH YOU?"

but he dismissed you again, clenching his jaw and continuing to walk. and you decided to jog to catch up with him, much to your dismay. he scoffed over his shoulder, fingers dancing along the hilt of his swords, "no need. sorry i ruined your plans tonight."

and that halted you dead in your tracks. to fuck with any apologies you had, who was he to pass around judgement for what you do?

"what's that supposed to mean? fuck you." you spat out, "i'm going back to the crew."

"fine by me." he grumbled, turning around to face you, "have fun."

"will do." you seethed, trying to raise his hackles, "make sure you don't pass out on the streets like a drunkard."

"even if i do, i'd be fine." he was getting more and more irritated, trying to raise your hackles right back, "why do you care?"

"ugh." you stepped forward, jabbing his chest accusatorily, "i was so dumb to leave that super nice guy to come chase after you! all you care about are your swords and your dumb sake."

he pursed his lips. what were you both even arguing about anymore? it made no sense, any of it. he wasn't even sure why the two of you were yelling at each other anymore. the nightly winds were unforgiving and cold. and all he knew was that as you yelled at him, blood rushed to your cheeks and your eyes came ablaze. your brows furrowed and lips fell into a pout as you awaited him to answer you. the gentle caress of the winds washed your hair over your face and you pushed them back in annoyance.

dammit.

zoro never believed in gods, but right now he would curse whatever deity sat above for making you so goddamn pretty. and making him so goddamn stupid.

as if looking at you would lead to his demise, now, it was his turn to look away. slowly drawing in a breath, he muttered, "jus' go back, there's no point arguing."

"fine. i'm leaving."

and wow, there must be some sort of cruel deity above. one who especially had a vendetta against zoro.

because, as if on cue, the man who you had been dancing showed up. he was slightly out of breath, as if he had run to come catch up with you, "hey! uh," he stopped short as he saw the stare off between you and zoro. "sorry, am i interrupting something?"

you turned around to look at the man, "what? no. nothing." you paused, giving zoro a short glace, "what are you doing here?"

"i uh—" the stranger shifted on his feet, a nervous smile on his face, "i- well, my friends forced me to come after you. i— i just... i know you guys are leaving in two days, but i was wondering if you would maybe wanna spend some time with me tonight? i, uh, i would really like to get to know you."

zoro stared at the man in a strange mix of jealousy and awe. was it that easy to confess?

"—it's okay if you're tired!" the man spluttered on, "i mean, i just wanted to talk— only if you want to, of course."

clearly, it was. because you turned away from zoro, giving that stranger a genuine smile, "you're too sweet. and, i was heading back to the party anyways, so might as well—"

"—really?" the man beamed and you nodded, walking towards him, mirroring his smile.

roronoa zoro watched you walk away, not even sparing him a sliver of a glance. and all of a sudden, the night air was too chilly and his headache too annoying and his heart, it ached.

before you turned to next street and disappeared with the stranger, you looked back at him. something in your gaze that begged the first mate to stop you, to call you back to him instead.

but he didn't.

all zoro could do was stand there, stupefied. you turned the corner, taking your gaze off of him with mild disappointment. before you turned, he saw you laughing at something the stranger had said.

zoro had no idea how long he stood there, transfixed at the ghost of you that was once in front of him.

roronoa zoro always saw you, right? well, now, he just saw you leave.

"what are you doing here? lost your way, marimo?" sanji asked as he materialized out of thin air on that street.

"huh?" zoro broke out of his daze, "what are you doing here?"

"hah," sanji looked smug, ignoring his question and blowing out a puff of smoke, "what did i expect from the idiot with no sense of direction."

"oh, go fuck yourself, shitty cook."

now, why did sanji show up at the exact moment zoro got his heart (whatever of it was left, anyways) broken?

the gods above must be laughing at the swordsman.

credits: to @bucciniexe for the format of the header; @chachachannah for the divider above! a/n: i don't know if this was nearly angsty enough, but i really do picture zoro as an avoidant who runs from his feelings for quite a long time. sooo, i hope this was angsty enough. thankyou @screaming-crying-screamingagain for the prompt, hope you like it mwuah <3

[cosmiiwrites]

i had this in my notes for the LONGEST time so heres a drabble of adam going down on you c: i also didnt proof read .😭

~

honestly at the beginning of your relationship he would be like “i dont eat pussy, im no carpet muncher blah blah”

adam’s pride can’t handle trying to pleasure a woman without his dick

however as soon as he goes down hes hooked on your taste

he LOVES when you sit on his face

he asks for it 24/7

“ugh… babe, sera was being a bitch at work today… come sit on my face n make me feel better, yeah?”

“just went through the most boring meeting of my life. a certain someone sitting on my face would lighten up my mood.”

hates admitting that he secretly enjoys eating pussy

this guy’s tongue is thick and long as HELL

whipped, pussydrunk loser.

~

“but- what if i suffocate you?” you asked worriedly, looking down at adam as you hovered over his face. despite your concerns, a part of you really just did want to grind against his face.

“babe, how many times do i have to fuckin’ say it? just sit down already.” he scoffed, hands gripping your waist in anticipation. “i-im just worried, i dont wanna-“

impatiently, adam pulls you down on his face, wasting no time to lick around your cunt. you let out a surprised gasp at his ministrations. “mmf- took too fucking long-“ he muttered against your pussy.

you mewled at the sensation, using the headboard for support as you rocked against his face. adam’s strong hands firmly held your hips as he helped guide you against his face.

each time your clit met the tip of his nose, you let out a cry. adam’s cock was already rock hard, precum angrily spilling from his tip.

“fuck, bitch, you must’ve put some magical shit in your pussy. why the fuck do you taste so good-“ adam added, before delving right back into your cunt.

adam could feel himself cum just by going down on you, his seed shooting all over his stomach with a groan. still, he continued the fluid movements of his tongue, emitting a few good moans of out of you. seriously, adam was whipped.

the lewd wet sounds of his tongue running against your pussy only fueled the growing pool of heat in your lower abdomen.

you came with a cry, head rolling back in pure bliss. adam’s skilled tongue was quick to lap up the fluids you had released almost embarrassingly quick.

without warning he positioned you onto his lap, ass against his now limp cock before plunging his tongue into the cavern of your mouth. you could taste yourself on him. adam pulled away with a smirk, a string of saliva connecting the two of you, relishing in how flustered and spent you looked.

[teddynivvy]

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ starry eyes

pairing: neighbour!ted nivison x reader

warnings: mentions of alcohol consumption. she/her pronouns used, use of y/n. 2k words.

a/n: the neighbour!ted fic is here hehehe!! fully intend on doing a part 2 so don't be too mad at me for this one. this is angsty!!! very much mutual pining trope. thank u to the anon who sent me this idea. it means so much to me if you reblog/leave comments/interact if u enjoy <3

⟡⟡⟡

when i'm alone i hear and feel you wish that i could reach right out and touch you but knowing you're the one to greet me, and meet me two alone in the dark, may it be.

“Hey, I’m having a few people over later tonight. You should come by.”

It’s said with a bag of groceries in his hand, silver frames falling down the bridge of his nose. You can see the packaging of the drinks out of the top of the tote bag, against the blue of his jeans, as your eyes travel up to meet his. 

Your neighbour, Ted, inviting you over for a party. The neighbour you’ve been crushing on for the better part of the last few months - you’ve cooked dinner in his apartment, had more movie nights than you can count, and shared all of your best stories with each other. It didn’t help that you could hear him through the extremely thin walls, offering more material for you to imagine about him, your hands between your thighs and picturing how his would feel in their place.

It’s easy with him, comfortable conversations under amber lamps in your apartment, and it was easy to imagine him slotting into your life. But you knew it was stupid to mess with your living situation and pursue something - this was the best apartment you’ve lived in since you moved to LA, and the last thing you wanted to do was jeopardize it.

So when he invites you over to his place for a party, to meet his friends, to be inserted into his life in some small way - you don’t really know what to say. He can sense that something’s off, that maybe you have plans, so he detracts.

“No worries if not, it’ll just be a small thing.”

You pull the keys from your lock and relax, turning back to look at him. Soft eyes, again, which allows you to breathe.

“Yes, sorry. Yes. That sounds fun. I’ll be there.”

The smile that spreads across his features as he dips too quickly into his apartment makes you blush furiously, letting your back press up against the wood of your door. Your purse finds its way onto the counter as you look at the time on the stove - mid afternoon, more than enough time to get ready. Ready in the way you look effortless - “just came over like this” type, even though Ted’s seen you in every outfit at this point. Taking the garbage out in your robe and not much else, getting home from work in a tight pair of black slacks and a button up that stretches across your torso in a way that forces his eyes to your waist, or in your sweatpants and sweatshirt when you knock on his door with a bag of microwave popcorn and a bar of his favourite chocolate. 

He knows you, more deeply and intimately than you may want to admit.

⟡⟡⟡

When Ted knows you’re coming to his get-together, he goes into overdrive. His friends had been over many times - seen the worst of his apartment, clothes strewn across the floor and piles of dishes, and he knows they don’t care. But he’s trying to make a good impression, despite the fact he’d probably consider you one of his closest friends at this point.

Something about having you over like this is making his head spin. He’s meticulously picking out an outfit, taking what he’s heard you call an “everything shower”, making sure his hair looks fucking perfect. He wishes he wasn’t so hell-bent on impressing you, but he can’t help but feel this is a bit of a litmus test of your relationship. Assuming you show up, of course.

Little does Ted know, you’re across the hall thinking the same exact thing.

Putting on a dress - taking it off. A cardigan and jeans - taking it off. Should you just wear fucking pyjamas at this point?

By the time you had picked something out, it was almost time to go over. You could hear the people funnelling into his apartment from behind your closed door, soft chuckles and the slaps of hands in high fives and handshakes as he invites people in. You can pick his laughter out of the group, deep and throaty, which you know comes from the small buzz he already has going. You also know that after a couple beers he gets touchy - a hand on your leg or a head on your shoulder on more than one occasion, usually when he’s falling asleep during a movie night. You don’t say anything.

You grab the unopened bottle of wine from your counter and check your hair and outfit once more, forcing yourself to leave before you started to overthink it. It's just Ted.

⟡⟡⟡

When you push open the door to Ted’s apartment, there’s more people than you thought there would be. Friends fill his kitchen and living room, some out on his patio sipping from brightly coloured drinks or taking drags from cigarettes. You spot Ted immediately, t-shirt hanging off of his body in the perfect way. It clings to his chest and arms, a soft tuft of chest hair peeking out from the neckline under his chain. His usual silver rings adorn his fingers, a beer pressed up against his lips as he makes eye contact with you. He earns a soft smile, tipping the drink from his lips and waving you over to where he was standing with a small group.

You put the bottle of wine on his counter and walk through the swarms of bodies, making your way over to him. The setting sun is bleeding pink and orange light into his apartment, illuminating him from behind as he towers over you. Flushed cheeks from the alcohol and a soft hand on your shoulder as he bends down, lips against the shell of your ear as he tells you how happy he is you came. “You look good.”

It’s enough for your cheeks to warm, embarrassingly so.

There’s two men across from him - who introduce themselves quickly as Charlie and Schlatt, with a small wave. You make small talk with them - learning that Schlatt had travelled from Texas to visit, hence why Ted was hosting this party. You told them that you were Ted’s neighbour, which earned raised eyebrows from both of them, a knowing look being shot at Ted. When you looked over and up at him, he was blushing furiously, awkwardly pressing the bottle to his lips once more.

Ted’s friends were easy to talk to, most of them having appeared in some of his videos (which you would never admit, you did do a quick Google search to watch - for research purposes, obviously). They all seemed to work in the same Youtube niche as him, with nothing but great things to say. It was making you fall harder and harder.

By your second glass of wine and an enthralling conversation with another friend of Ted’s - Eddy, and his girlfriend Chrissy, you were starting to wonder why you hadn’t seen Ted in a while. The fairy lights had come on on the patio, and they were bright against the smoggy night sky of LA. Your vision was slightly blurred, soft on the edges and hazy, as the music playing over the speakers blended into the background against the conversations around you. You stood up and excused yourself to the bathroom, hoping you might run into Ted on the way there.

And you did. Well, kind of.

Sliding past a group on your way up the stairs, Ted stood at the end of the hallway. He was talking to someone near the door of his bedroom, his eyes pointed down at a petite girl, with long brown hair and her eyes looking up at him like he hung the moon. You couldn’t help but stare for a second at the scene before you, a familiar pang in your chest as your breath hitched. 

The sinking feeling - embarrassment, awkwardness, disappointment all rolled into one. A girlfriend, maybe? A hookup? Whatever it was, you weren’t super interested in hanging around to find out.

You dipped into the bathroom just as Ted’s head turned to look at you, his gaze falling to the door. He swore he could see the pant leg of your jeans and the slight swish of your hair as he heard the door click. 

The girl in front of him had her bottom lip pulled between her teeth, glazed-over eyes from the alcohol as Ted’s blood ran cold, imagining what it must’ve looked like from your perspective. 

She put a hand on his chest and he gently backed away, muttering an apology and bounding down the stairs away from the situation. He felt stupid - sobering up damn near immediately at the thought of what he just did.

Ted had basically told all of his closest friends about his cute neighbour. Schlatt and Charlie hadn’t heard the end of it - goading him to just make a fucking move already. Schlatt had threatened to out him on the podcast, affectionately telling him to “stop being a pussy or he’d tell you himself.” He had invited you with the intention of making a move.

When Schlatt sees the panicked look on his face, his face softens as well. He meets Ted in the kitchen, putting his glass of whiskey on the counter with a gentle clunk.

“What’s up with you? You look like you’re gonna throw up.”

“(Y/N).”

Schlatt cocks an eyebrow. “What about her?”

“She saw me and Shae upstairs.”

“Why is Shae here?”

Ted sighs, letting his fingers pinch the bridge of his nose. “I don’t even know. I didn’t invite her.”

“Tell her to get the fuck out then!”

As Schlatt says it, she comes down the stairs. The aforementioned petite girl, with a roll of her eyes, as she slides her glass across Ted’s countertop and dramatically slams the door behind her. It earns the attention from a few surrounding people, who quickly go back to their conversations.

“What happened?”

“She saw us.”

“Ted,” Schlatt grabs him by the shoulders. “Saw you do what?”

“Nothing happened. She cornered me upstairs and started touching my chest and fuckin’… telling me she missed me and shit. I don’t know.”

“Dude… you gotta go tell (Y/N). I thought you were finally gonna fuckin’ tell her how you felt, you idiot.”

Ted rolls his eyes. “What do I say? Hey, sorry, you saw me with my batshit crazy ex but it’s literally nothing, also I’m in love with you and have been for months?”

“Something like that, yeah.”

There’s a beat of silence before Schlatt shakes his head, backing away from Ted to rejoin the party. “Don’t be a fucking idiot bro. You’re gonna ruin this before it starts.”

He heard foot steps behind him and turned around, seeing you descend the stairs. A small sniffle from your nose that you try to hide, meeting his eyes with a watery smile.

“We didn’t get to talk much tonight,” is what Ted says, which doesn’t seem like the right thing to say, and he realizes it the moment it leaves his lips.

“I’m gonna get going,” you choke out, attempting to hide the fact you’d just been unsuccessfully holding back tears a few minutes ago. “Great party.”

He opens his mouth to explain, but he doesn’t know what to say. “That wasn’t…” he starts. “That wasn’t anything.”

It’s left unsaid, what that means. Your hurt gaze was enough for him to soften, watching you step away from him. He can tell you don’t believe him.

He feels like a stranger suddenly, as you pull the door open and feel the tears brim your eyes once again. “Thanks for inviting me.”

The soft click of the door is enough for him to finally let go of the breath he didn’t know he was holding. He wanted to punch a fucking wall, he felt sick.

The party thinned out quickly after that, people bidding Ted goodbye and thanking him for hosting. Schlatt was the last to leave - a somber smile and a clap on his shoulder. “Sorry it didn’t work out like you wanted.”

Understatement of the fucking century. 

⟡⟡⟡

[sommerregenjuniluft]

@jegulus-microfic june 19 — mechanic — 843 words aka motocross enthusiasts to future boyfriends

James hastens to unclip and throw off his helmet. Carelessly, he throws it to the side where it lands with a dull thud in the foliage while he runs over to the person that just slipped off their motocross bike in front of him.

They were racing each other.

He came out of nowhere, appearing on the trail right next to James. As if he’d materialized himself out of thin air. Decked out in all black and bike an atrocious lime yellow-green that doesn’t blend with the background of the forest even if it wanted to.

He’d snaked his way in front of James when their twin paths united again. Two fingers were tipped from his helmet in a mock salute and then he’d accelerate hard and fast, swirling dirt at James’ helmet visor.

And, well. James has never said no to a challenge a day in his life. Especially from such a cheeky opponent. So James had revved his engine and done his best to keep up and find ways to overtake his mysterious challenger.

The thing is, the other guy was fast. Quick and nimble on his bike, winding between trees and seeking out every opportunity to get a good head start. Jumping off hills instead of taking them easier, dangerous maneuvers, snapping branches and leaving behind angry wheel tracks.

And James was chasing. As soon as the trees cleared a little James managed to pull almost level with him. The biker threw multiple looks over his shoulder when he noticed and James’ grin sharpened when he heard a short laugh from his front left. They parted ways when James chose to round a hill instead of going up and over it, slowing down to keep out of the other’s landing range.

But just as quickly James’ smile was gone.

Maybe the ground was muddier than the guy thought or he got too high-spirited. His hind wheel slipped right from underneath him upon hitting the ground again, making him tumble forward with the remaining momentum and his bike sideways.

Now, James skidders down onto his padded knees next to the body laying in the dirt. “Fuck, hey! You okay?”

He gets a groan in response, raspy and breathless.

And then James gets all breathless when the other guy weakly shoves off his own helmet. It’s pale skin contrasting starkly with his all black getup, dark curls tumbling onto his forehead and stormy eyes fluttering up at him.

Oh.

The gorgeous man on the ground grunts vaguely, “Never been better.”

James makes a skeptical noise. “Hey, open your eyes for me again. Can you see clearly?”

Slowly, grey eyes blink open and try focusing on James’ figure kneeling over him. His lips part around a silent gasp once they’re wide open, looking at James intensely. “Um, yeah,” he answers.

James’ mouth tips into a grin. “Hi there.”

“Hi,” the other breathes weakly.

“And your name is?”

“Regulus.”

James hums, “And how many fingers do you see, Regulus?” He holds up 3.

“Three,” Regulus answers dutifully.

James switches his fingers, holding his thumb to his forefinger, the tips of both of them creating a little heart. “And how many now?” James smirks.

Regulus’ wide eyed glance turns into a scowl, lips pouting as he pushes James’ hand away with a grumbling noise. James doesn’t miss the way his cheeks pinken though.

Regulus tries to sit up but he immediately plops back onto his elbows with a groan.

“Don’t be a hero,” James admonishes and pushes him to lay back down.

“How’s my bike?” Regulus wants to know. It’s quiet safe for the sounds of the forest, birds chirping, wind rustling the thicket.

James looks over his shoulder where the lime green atrocious is laying sideways in the leaves. The motor isn’t on anymore but it doesn’t look bent or scratched. “Looks in okay shape,” James replies, turning back to Regulus. He’s looking up at him with an uneasy gleam in his bright eyes. James drives a hand through his hair, licks his lips. Regulus’ eyes follow the motion. ”Easily fixable, I bet,” James reassures, “Probably just some of the electronics impacted.”

Regulus lets his head thump back into the foliage with an unhappy groan.

James grins. “Hey, y’know what? I’ll take you to my mechanic. Guy’s awesome! Funniest person I know and he really knows his bikes.”

James expects Regulus to lighten up and be thankful for the offer but instead he’s met with an almost patronizing smile in return. “Hard pass. I already have a trusted mechanic.”

James narrows his eyes, feeling defensive. “Well, your loss then. Sirius always does a flawless job for a good price. Plus,” he grins again, “His fancy ass espresso machine makes a mean hot chocolate. And he lets me have one every time.” James nods to himself, feeling victorious.

Something flits over grey eyes and then Regulus’ own lips tip onto a smirk. “I know,” he answers and James is properly confused for a few momentps before Regulus goes on. “I bought it for my brother.”

[ctrlhope]

Love Thy Neighbour (m)

synopsis: Jimin is a patient man, at least, he thinks he is. But you test him so much. Can’t you just be good? Be so pretty for him? He knows you want to be. Knows you can be so perfect, just for him.

p.jimin x f.reader

𝜗𝜚 ݁ ˖┊: wc: 4.5k

𝜗𝜚 ݁ ˖┊: genre: yandere/dark, smut, dark content

𝜗𝜚 ݁ ˖┊: content: yandere/dark!jimin, noncon, dubcon, implied non-human!jimin, kidnapping, use of a sex doll, cruel and unusual punishment, mindbreak, fear play, blood, biting, marking, minimal prep, cervix bruising, dehumanization (?), creampie, rough sex, jimin is lovesick and delusional and also a gross perv, lmk if i missed any <33

𝜗𝜚 ݁ ˖┊: notes: hello!!! the demons won and i finally decided to post this after it was sitting in my drafts forever <33 i wrote this about a year ago with jimin in mind, but then i posted it to my anime blog instead. if you read it over there… no you didn’t AHSSKSH it’s still probably my favourite thing i’ve ever written tbh <33 im back into the swing of writing so nightlight coming soon!! as always please read the warnings <//3

18+ -> minors / blank blogs dni -> dark content

Creak.

Footsteps. Footsteps right in front of you. Right in front of your hiding place.

Please don’t stop. Please don’t stop. Please keep walking. Please. If there’s any god out there please make him keep walking.

Bang.

His fist hits the desk right above your head. Fuck. Fuck. Shit. Why the fuck did you even hide? It was dumb. So dumb. You can’t get away. Maybe if you ran, kept running forever you could get away. But you can't. Not anymore. It’s too late for any of that.

“There you are, pretty doll.” His sick smile is all you see as he leans down, face coming into view. He’s crazy. He’s fucking crazy. You know that. You do.

You knew from the moment he knocked on your door in the middle of the night. He was practically buzzing as he rocked on his heels. His speech was weird, manic. He’s never spoken like that before. Not whenever he would come knocking on your door asking for sugar, at least.

You tried to be polite, you really did. You tried to make small talk, to politely excuse yourself, your hands shaking. You tried to close the door on him but it just wouldn’t shut as he kept rambling. His foot was shoved in the way, preventing your escape. His dirty fucking sneakers– god even now you remember them so clearly. You remember so many things you wish you didn’t.

How he fucking smiled when you looked back up at him.

It makes your stomach churn to think about it now.

You remember clearly how he grabbed you. He forced his way inside, slowly backing you against the wall. You remember how he grabbed your wrists, talked about how tiny they were in his hands. Showed you only a moment of warmth before harshly biting into the skin, red rising to the surface, coating his tongue. A sound of pain was retched from your throat, trying to pull away while his grip only got tighter. His hips forced you into the wall, trapping you. Keeping you as prey.

He said you taste delicious.

It fucking echos in your head. Makes you go insane with how it repeats over and over again. Exactly how he said the words. The lilt in his tone, the smile that made him look like he just saw the face of god. How excited he sounded at the first taste of blood.

The way you could tell that he craved more.

Craved everything you had to give.

You didn’t think demons were real before that night. Ghosts, angels– anything that goes bump in the night was just a figment of one's imagination. Maybe hallucinations. But this, this was real. How you wish this was all just some stupid hallucination.

Nothing is paranormal before you face the devil himself.

Nothing is more terrifying than when the devil wants you.

You learned that that night.

He dragged you next door, throwing you to the ground. He looked like a shadow, only a silhouette as he stood in the doorway. The moon casting a glow from behind him. You couldn't see his face, none of it was legible as you scrambled backwards. Trying, trying so desperately to put some space between yourself and the beast.

His shoulders heaved as he panted. Like a fucking monster that just got his kill.

He had.

He closed the doors. Locked them with what felt like a million keys. He started fucking giggling. Giggling like a goddamn lunatic as his demeanour changed completely. He was smiling like an innocent little kid. He was happy. The happiest you had ever seen a person before.

“Ahhh~” He sighed, glee laced in his all too cheery tone. It was like nails on a chalkboard. Speaking, churning in your ears so it's all you can hear. It mocks you. Mocks your very being. Mocks you for trying to live a normal life away from him.

You remember how he clung to you that night as you sobbed. Whining about how you shouldnt be sad, that you were home now. He’d coo, playing with your hair as he tried to ‘soothe’ your trembling body. His arms wrapped around you in a vice. It felt like he was choking the air out of your lungs.

Maybe he was trying, maybe he wanted you dead. You really had no clue. You just wanted to get away– be as far away from him as you could. You’d do anything, you told him as much. Change your name, leave the country. You promised you wouldn’t tell anybody! You would tell him anything if it meant you could leave.

But he kept you in place. Tucked in his arms. His entire body wrapped around yours, keeping you close. Keeping his face nuzzled into your neck. Smelling you. Smelling your fear.

He loves that smell.

If you let him he would breathe it in all the time, treating it as the very thing that keeps him alive. Well, until you die anyway. But he knows that won't be anytime soon! You’re strong. You're tenacious. He knows you are. You’ve dealt with so much in your life, you can deal with him too. He just knows it.

He wonders what all of your other emotions smell like.

Hmm.. What about love? That would be an interesting smell. Maybe it would be sweet like honey? Maybe bitter like chocolate… Humans are so interesting. They're so fun.

You are especially. And he knows you’ll like him too. He’s sure of it as you finally tire yourself out, falling asleep on his beat up mattress. Mmhmm crying for hours must really hurt your soul. Poor thing. He would fix it. Fix you up all nice and pretty. Yeah, he knows just how to. His pretty experiment.

Well, he thinks that’s all you are. A nice human experiment for him to play with. To learn everything about. Learn what makes them tick, what makes them laugh, what makes them cry. Seokjin told him as much. He could keep a little human as a pet, dispose of them when necessary. But… he doesn’t want to let you go! Just the thought makes him want to cry!

You are already better than he ever imagined!

Bang.

The chair blocking your body is thrown back, assaulting the wall with a deafening crash. Your hands come up, covering your ears. Shit Shit Shit! Fuck, what are you going to do, what are you going to do?! Your body forces itself as far as it can into the corner of the desk. All you can hear, all you can think about is the sound of your heartbeat ringing in your ears.

Why are you so dumb?! You knew you couldn’t win! You never win any of his games!

He squats in front of you, blocking your only means of escape. You hear him, watch him inhale deep before letting out a sick laugh. One that makes you want to cry. One that makes you feel like trying to run– trying to hide is useless. Maybe it is. You don’t see how you could possibly get away.

The pictures covering his walls tell you everything you need to know.

“Found you.” He smiles, crawling towards your body, crawling towards your last bit of safety. He looks like a monster– he is a monster. He can’t be human. He can’t. You refuse to believe it. Your legs kick, they try to get away. They try to be your last line of defence but his face only shows that of an owner looking at a puppy having a fit. He looks so fond of you.

You want to scream.

He grabs your ankle. It hurts. Everything hurts. You should’ve become numb at this point, you wish you had. You feel your body slip out from under the desk, dragged against the hard floor. Pick you up with ease, lay you down in his bed. His gross disgusting bed.

He pouts. He fucking pouts at you. Sits in front of you..

“Don't tell me you’re jealous.” His frowns, tilting his head at you. “I didn't mean to make you! I swear! I just wanted to show you. How much I love you…how good I could make my pretty doll feel.” You could never be jealous. Not of anything involving him.

Especially not involving the putrid fucking sex doll that lays next to you in bed.

How he fucked it last night, making you watch. Made you hold his hand while he thrust into the thing. Made you cup his face as he came inside.

“How I’ve been practicing just for you.” He coos, a smile gracing his lips as he moves to his knees, crawling towards you in the bed. “Humans are just so hard to understand…And I really couldn’t wait for you any longer.”

You don’t hear his words. Your eyes fixated on the doll that looks just like you. Every freckle the same, every mole. Every fucking tiny detail mirrored yours in a lifeless, hollow core made of silicon. Filled up with his cum. You don’t want to think about how many times he’s fucked it. How many times he’s pretended having sex with you while holding it close. How much he had to have spent to get such a thing.

How deep whatever he feels for you runs.

You swear it probably coats his veins. Running under every inch of this skin. Giving it colour. Giving it life. It's all you’re able to think about when he leaves you alone in the apartments. It’s hard for you to swallow. To believe for yourself. You wish it is a lie.

You let him get close. You let him into your bubble for only a second. You allow his face into your neck. Biting your skin, drawing blood once again. He loves the taste. You think he's probably obsessed with it. You wanted to recoil away, disgusted with how he hums, lapping at the skin. But you don’t. You need to let him have this. Even if it's just for a second.

You close your eyes tight. You feel him relax. He thinks you’re giving in. You know he does. You can do this. You can do this. You may have only made this decision a moment ago as you stared at the doll, but you had to do this. You had to do it for yourself. It may be the last chance you get. You can’t stop fighting.

You can do this. You can do this.

The mantra chants over and over again in your head like a prayer. You feel his hand reach up, covering your clothed breast with his palm. Massaging it carelessly, without any thought or respect for you. In his head you’re probably the same as that fucking sex doll.

Your knee shoots up. Right into his crotch. Right where it hurts the most. Your hands shove him with all the strength in your body, getting him off of you. Getting him away for only a moment while he recovers. Maybe. Maybe you can make it out of the door. Or maybe you can make it to the bathroom and lock yourself inside. Maybe you have a chance. Just maybe.

Your body scrambles off of the bed, moving faster than you ever thought was possible. You race towards the door, arm reaching out for the handle. You’re so close. You’re almost there. You’re almost able to get away.

Freedom is within your grasp, it's so close you can taste it. He forgot to lock the door, you know he did. You didn't hear any of them click back in place when he came inside. He was too caught up in the moment with trying to find you. If you make it there then maybe, just maybe you can get outside. Run as fast and as far away as you can. Call the police and escape from him. Spread the wings he’s tried to clip.

You land flat on your face.

Not even your arms are able to cushion your fall.

A hand wraps around your ankle, pulling you, dragging you again. Backwards. Back into the cage. Back to him. His chest heaves. His shoulders hunch. He looks dishevelled. Crazed.

He has that fucking smile plastered on his face.

“I love it when you run. It's so pretty.” He giggles, “You know me so well.”

You kick at him, thrash your body as he pulls you closer and closer. “Get the fuck away from me!” You yell, though it falls on deaf ears. All the strength in your body is being used to get away. To try and escape from him. He can’t be human. He’s too strong. Even with your struggle he still lifts you easily, like you’re just some fucking little kid having a temper tantrem.

“I’ve been so patient…” He sighs, placing– rather, forcing you onto the edge of the bed. Your knees on the floor as your torso is pressed against the mattress. Your arms pinned behind your back with one of his hands. Your hips pinned in place with his own. You can feel his cock against you. He’s hard. “I really am patient, you know?”

He hums, gently rocking his hips against you. His entire length pressed against your cunt. Taunting you. Words are not needed for you to know what’s to come. “It’s really too bad you know? I’ve run out.”

The simple statement makes your blood run cold.

“I’ve been so gentle…so caring…” He purrs, forcing his sweatpants down his legs. Just enough for his cock to spring free. Just enough for him to be able to stroke himself. For him to press the fat head where he wants– no, no. Needs to be. “I’ve really been trying my best to be good for you.”

You wish you could see. You wish you could see everything– exactly what he is doing. What he is planning to do to your wrecked frame. If, if everything wasn’t such a surprise then maybe… maybe you could make it a little better. But like this… you’re helpless. You’re trapped. You hate it. You can’t stand it. You wish you still had more tears left to cry. But you know it’s over. You can’t do anything now.

Exactly how he wants it– wants you.

You feel him stop moving, an excited gasp resonating from his throat. His entire presence changes in a flash, giddiness taking him over as the cogs in his brain turn. Making up his own story, his own reality changing all over again. “Unless, you don't want me to be good for you? You want me to take what I want? That’s why you’ve been trying to run and hide?”

His frame towers over yours, his full weight pressing against your back forcing you deeper into the bed as he mumbles into your ear. “All you had to do was say so~”

All you can do is whimper in response. Whimper like a wounded animal that's been forced to accept their fate. Your head is blank, devoid of all thoughts and feelings. There is nothing. Nothing you can do.

Maybe he’s right.

Maybe a small part of you does like it. Who knows. You certainly don’t.

He blows gently on your ear, teasing you before he leans back. Your bottoms are forced down, exposing your cunt to the entire room. You can feel him practically buzzing with excitement. With some sick pleasure found deep within his gut.

“So pretty!” He whines, spreading your cheeks to get a full view of your pretty little cunt. You hate that you’re already wet. You hate that the feeling of his cock did it to you just moments before. You hate that he can see it. You hate the way pride bubbles up in his gut. The way you can hear him lick his lips like a starved man.

Hate what the other little voice is saying inside of your head. Hate that even maybe a little bit of your soul wants to feel him. The quiet fucked up voice that you always try to silence in the dead of night when you’re left with your thoughts.

“Mm… I wanna taste you so bad but… I really can’t wait anymore… what am I supposed to do!!” You can practically hear the pout plastered on his lips. “Ah~”

The fat head of his cock finds its way back to your cunt, dragging itself up and down your lips. Milking every last bit of wetness out of your hole. Your nails dig into your own hands— maybe his. It’s hard to tell where you stop and he begins. When he’s this close it’s hard to tell much of anything.

“We have forever together don’t we?” He chuckles, his head stopping at your unprepped little hole. Attempting to push into it with just enough pressure to have you squirm. Have you bite down on the sheet to silence any sounds that might try to come through. He’s too thick. “We can try out all sorts of fun things together~”

His thumb aids as he tries to push the head of his cock inside. Prodding, trying to force his way inside without a care in the world for how it might hurt. How it might feel for you. He’s too big— you’re, you’re too tight. You can’t take it! It won’t fit you just, just–!

“Mmmm!!” A muffled cry breaks free from your throat as the head of his cock buries itself in your cunt. Your ears ring, pain taking over your senses as he lets out a mouth watering, near pornographic moan from above you.

His grip on your wrists tighten, eyes staring at where he’s fucked himself into you. Wow~ it’s so pretty. He never expected a human to feel this good! It’s incredible! Magnificent! And this is just the first inch of him? Oh my… he can only imagine what bottoming out with feel like— how it will feel when his cock is pressed against your cervi—

Wait wait!! He’s getting ahead of himself again. A gasp leaves his throat as he pulls out, a muffled whine leaving your own. Your hole clenches around nothing. What a cute little thing! It’s calling him back in!! He knew you wanted this, he knows all about you huh?

He drags his cock back and forth through your lips again, red mixing in with the pretty white. He dips his cock head over and over again into your entrance, thrusting himself deeper and deeper every time. Stretching you just perfectly around his length.

Hmm, humans like prep right? He figures that this is close enough. His doll doesn’t need it. She just takes him right away— someday you’ll be the same! He just needs to break you in! But until then, he needs to savour this… who knows when you might come around again?

Mmm… you’re too mean to him. Yeah, that’s all it is.

Ah, it’s too bad he’s too lost to notice you’re already falling apart. Your back is arching on its own. Working without permission to give him a better angle. Your hips bucking, leaning back ever so slightly as he presses into your cunt. Urging him just a little deeper. Your pussy is too wet to think about anything, your head in a daze as he teases you, taunts you relentlessly.

You don’t want this— at least you think you don’t. But, it’s so hard to know what you really want when your head gets like this. When it’s actually feeling good. When the pleasure mixes with pain to concoct something dangerous. Something that makes you unsure of anything, really. Maybe you’re dumb, maybe you’re stupid. Yeah. You probably are. But that’s okay. He likes that.

He likes you.

He slides his cock inside of your hole, his hand moving to your ass as thrusts his hips. Forcing his cock deeper and deeper with each stroke. Your walls clenching around every inch that pushes its way inside. God, you’ve never felt so full. You’ve never felt anything like this. Anything like his cock, anything like him.

Whimpers, whines, all sorts of sounds escape your throat as you let him do what he pleases. Give into whatever twisted pleasure is being given to you. It’s hard to stop them when he’s even louder— panting like a fucking dog as he feels you. Feels every inch of you. Makes you two become one.

He fucks into you so hard it hurts. So hard that your entire body is being pushed into the bed, spine curving up to meet him with every demonic thrust of his hips. Every time the skin of his thighs meets your ass, every time the head of his cock meets with your cervix, pain racks through your body. You can’t take it. You feel like you’re going crazy. You feel like you’re the insane one.

The sound of skin against skin penetrating the sound of your ears like some sort of sick, twisted song. A song he plays so well. One you don’t want him to stop. No matter how much it hurts, how it stings you, you just can’t find it in yourself to push him away. His moans feel like a siren’s voice, luring you closer and closer, pushing you so close to the edge.

“Why’s she so mean!” He whines, his thrusts frantic and hurried. Only caring for his own pleasure, only caring about him. “Won’t let me in any deeper doll! Can you believe that?” He groans, pressing his cock so hard against your cervix you nearly scream in pain. Your body thrashes, trying to get away from the sensation.

He shushes you quietly, leaning his torso against your back as he coos. “Shh… shh… it’s okay… we won’t try that today okay? Must be too much for you… poor thing.” His hips relent, slowly rocking into your battered cunt to give you a little bit of a break. To rest before the main event.

You want to cringe at how wet you sound, how messy you’ve become due to his cock and his cock alone. How greedily your pussy takes him, urging him back with every thrust. Wanting it. Wanting him.

You see his arm reach past your head, grabbing onto your mimics hair. Pulling the doll closer. Holding its head so it’s staring right into your eyes. It’s so lifeless. So hollow.

“It’s okay.” You can hear the smile in his voice. “Someday you’ll take me just like she can, yeah? You’ll be sooo~ good for me.” His hips start to pick up their pace again, thighs slapping against your ass so hard you might see stars. So hard you actually want to listen to him.

“I had to break her in too, real good.” He pants out, losing himself in the feeling of your tight, warm walls.

You flinch away. You can’t look at it anymore. Can’t look at a face that is exactly your own yet so cold and distant. So lost. Used for months on end. Maybe a little sense comes back to you, a small part of reality seeping back into your skull.

He tsks. Fucking tsks and shakes his head in disappointment. “That won’t do… I need my girls to like each other…” He grabs your jaw, forcing you to look up at the thing. The creature with your hair and eyes.

“Kiss it.” His voice changes in a second, morphing into something commanding. Something scary.

Fuck reality. Living in whatever dream you’ve created for yourself is better. Better than facing this. You don’t want to disobey. You want to listen, want him to let you cum. Want to be good. Maybe want his praise, even if it’s just a little.

Your lips meet with the cold, lifeless silicon. Tasting whatever disgusting leftover cum can be found on its lips. He pushes the head against your lips, forcing you to lick your tongue inside. “Adorable!!”

He likes it. He likes it too much. You can tell.

Tell by the way his hips pick up speed, forcing your used hole to take him over and over again. Forcing you to accept him into your body. Forcing you to fall for his cock. Make sure no one else will ever be able to use it. Use you like the way he wants to.

Can tell by the way his cock twitches, his thrusts becoming sloppy. His pace completely out the window as he searches for nothing but his own release.

Maybe you like it too. Like the way his cum tastes. Like the way he took this, took all of you for himself. All of you flesh as his. The coil tightens in your stomach, white specks start to form behind your eyelids. You’re close, too fucking close you just can’t take it anymore.

A loud moan leaves your lips, muffled by the silicon held against your mouth. Waves of pleasure crashing through your frame like a tidal wave of ecstasy as white paints the inside of your walls. Ears ringing, vision gone white as endorphins fill your brain making you forget— forget everything about this moment. How fucked up it is. How you want more.

Your walls clamp around his cock as it jerks in your cunt, milking every last drop of cum from him. Filling you up until you’re stuffed. Until you can’t think anymore. Until you’re so tired you just want to collapse.

He drops the doll letting you pull your head back to finally be able to breathe again fully. Your frame slumps against the bed. Tired. Drained of everything it has to give.

He slowly pulls out of your abused little hole, watching the way it flutters around nothing. Watching the white mixed with red slowly drip out of it onto the rug. “Humans are such incredible little things…”

He smiles, shallowly dipping a finger inside your walls before popping it in his mouth. Just a little taste. “You did so good doll…” He pets your hair, gives you some sort of comfort after everything he’s done. It’s the least you deserve.

He moves your body into the bed with ease, pulling a blanket over your shaking form. A nap would be good right now. It’s always good to give humans at least one nap a day! Mhmm… and you seem like you could use one.

He moves behind you, wrapping an arm around your body from behind. Pulling you close to his chest. Making no mind to fix your clothes. This is good. This is right. It’s how it’s always supposed to have been!! Ah, and now he has all the time to make you understand that too. He’s so lucky. So lucky to have found such a good human.

“Night night dolly…” He whispers in your ear, brushing your hair gently. Coaxing you to sleep. “Let’s have a great day tomorrow too, yeah?”

Right. Tomorrow. Cause this is forever.

You can’t help the small smile that creeps to your lips at the thought. Forever. ♡

⋆𐙚 if you enjoyed this fic, please consider buying me a kofi!

© all rights reserved to ctrlhope 2019-2024; do not copy, plagiarise, or translate.

[fraugwinska]

DoubleTrouble No. 2 - Missionary Impossible

Yes, we did Team up again - the wonderful @macabr3-barbi3 and my humble self wrote another DoubleTrouble fic, based of a hilarious FranticFanfic game result (If you are a writer and have some friends who also indulge in fanfiction, check the game out: www.franaticfanfic.com - Your throat will hate you but the laughter makes it worth it!)

This time we give all of you Vox Lovers a real Treat! Mine is the Readers POV, while Barbie provided Vox's POV - get the TV's dirty version right here.

And now, without further ado:

Explicit Sexual content - Minors DNI - 18+ - 6.5k words

You had to admit: Breaking into Lucifer’s personal vault was your boldest and most impressive job yet. You had your concerns - normally you didn’t take jobs that seemed too shady or downright wrong to you - but you didn’t steal anything powerful, just a bottle of his vanished wife’s perfume. You shake your head at the memory. Most certainly one of her many, still very active superfans, kind of icky to be honest. But money talks, and boy did that client talk.

The only downside had been that for the first time, the 666 Evening News had a picture of you.

Granted, blurry, obstructed and absolutely not usable at all - but it still irked you to no end. They didn’t call you the ‘Traceless Thief’ for nothing.

But even though no one was more the wiser about your identity, even though Lucifer begrudgingly stopped looking for witnesses, even though the gossip on the streets about speculations who the Traceless Thief could’ve been died down - ever since that night, you felt like you were being watched.

The next jobs you take go without news coverage and media attention, and yet, you grow more and more paranoid. Hell has many eyes - figuratively and literally - and you feel them all on you. But there is work to be done and a living to be earned - and the tiny alibi antique bookshop you keep definitely doesn’t provide. No one sane wants old shit in hell - and the rare specimens that do and visit the dingy little space under your apartment come and go, disappointed in the stock you barely keep.

Which is fine by you - you only really need it for one thing. The PO Box.

The wonderfully boring, uninteresting PO Box of the ‘Dusty Pages’ bookshop was your portal to the real money. Hell had become a lot better the day you mastered the powers the underworld granted you: No physical barrier could contain you. Being intangible granted you freedom, and to return to the profession you were best in: Stealing Shit.

Of course, noble causes like overturning corrupt governments by breaking into officials homes and publishing their many crimes was still stealing, if you ask heaven that is, and it landed you in hell. You gave up being salty about it, and made the best out of the situation.

“Hey Frankie. How’s the wife?” The post office clerk, a grumpy looking crocodile in an ill-fitting checkered suit huffs.

“Still fucking annoying, as always. Each day I’m getting closer to bribing an exterminator to kill the bitch just to shut her up for good.”

You chuckled, leaning on the counter and tapping your fingers on the scratched wood.

“Aw, did you burn the meatloaf again? You know Alice hates that.” Frankie gives you an exasperated look, which you meet with a mocking grin.

“You want something? Except for getting on my nerves?”

You shrug, twirling a tiny key on a string around your finger. Frankie, and by proxy Alice too, were parts of your harmless, boring, inconspicuous appearance. Just a normal young sinner, just a normal errand to run, keeping normal small talk with the clerks.

“Just checking my PO Box. I’m waiting on a few rare books I ordered to restock.”

“Uh-huh. Tell someone who gives a shit.”

The crocodile turns away, adjusting his small, round reading glasses and eager to ignore you. Perfect.

“Always nice to chat with you, Frankie.” you say and saunter over to the little door with the number 13. The quiet click always sounds satisfyingly like a little exclamation of joy and like cashflow, and under the ‘Old Crap & Thingamajigs’ catalog you found what you were hoping for. A thick envelope and a letter - new jetstream-bathtub, here you come.

God, why were the VoxTech maintenance uniforms so fucking skimpy?

You grumble silently, cursing yourself that you haven’t grabbed the male one. But that would’ve been suspicious, and you couldn’t afford to be suspicious today. Not if you want to get the job done and live to tell the tale. 

The Vee Tower is full of cameras, hundreds of tiny, red blinking lights next to crystal clear lenses, and dead spots were hard to find and a rare occasion. So, when you couldn’t shift through the walls, you had to look like you belonged. And apparently, a fucking laced, black mini-skirt and a top with puffy sleeves that looked more like a fetish bralette was what it took to ‘belong’. The whole point was blending in, not being remembered - and all the female employees from cleanup and maintenance looked the exact same as you. So, unless one was walking around with a bag full of personnel files on hand, you looked like anyone else on this floor.

You stepped into the elevator, the keycard your client had sent you along with the money and initial job offer in hand. Wherever that person got those precious credentials, you were grateful for them because it gave you an easy way to bypass all the layers of security that VoxTech imposed. All that hassle for an incriminating photo.

You sighed when you pressed the button to floor 66, where the CEO of VoxTech enterprises had his private apartment. Vox.

The name was even more intimidating than Lucifer's to you. While the king of hell was aloof, inactive, disinterested in the ongoings of hell, Vox was the absolute opposite. He knew every little secret. VoxTech had millions of eyes and ears. It was a well known fact that he kept his all-seeing spycams on the whole pentagram and his pliant audience in his steely grasp. Always on top of the times, on top of the news, on top of the sales and on top of any business, shady or not, in hell. In the eyes of the citizens of the Pride Ring, Vox and his partners Valentino and Vevette owned practically everything. He had the largest audience in the history of hell, the sharpest wit and the keenest, calculating eye on the prize - a charming manipulator that was considered very much dangerous and not to be underestimated. Which is why you had to plan your gig for a time you were certain he wasn't around.

A shame really - you couldn’t deny, despite his ruthlessness and questionable business practices with which he had built his empire, you kind of admired the self-made TV-demon that rose to overlord status and made quite a big name for himself in stellar time. That, and he was nice to look at too, even with a flatscreen for a head. Oh well.

The ding of the elevator brought you back to the job at hand, and with confident steps, you glanced up and down the corridor. There were a few cameras pointed to the apartment door, but you found a dead spot not far off, and with a content smile, you walked over as if to inspect the carpet, just to shift as you were out of the camera's angle, your body transpiring through the wall, and with a quiet thud, you were inside.

That was the moment the lights went out.

A power outage was the last thing you had expected - in the Vee Tower of all places. The one place in hell that burst with electricity, and you would laugh at the irony if you weren't so tense. The timing is suspicious,and with a beating heart you shuffle forward, trying to phase through the nearest wall.

What the fuck?

You furrow your brows and huff, irritated. The wall is - well, a wall, and while that was a normal state for others, for you? Unimaginable. Your hands are resting against the concrete and steel, normally easy peasy to walk through. But you feel the hardness under your fingertips, much more intense than it should and almost stinging.

Conventional route it is, then, you think begrudgingly and slowly make your way through the corridor, listening into the stillness of the apartment. The corridor led into a spacious living room - flat, modern couches that screamed money and luxury arranged in a half circle, surrounded by various screens, all turned off. In the middle you see the outlines of a metallic, lavish coffee table, empty and clean like in a catalog. It was the kind of space that wasn’t really meant to be lived in, but to show just how much you had that you didn’t really need. A show.

You scanned the room. There was an open arch leading into a kitchen - also polished and top notch empty, not the cluttered mess you had in your apartment - and a closed, narrow door, likely a storage room. But at the opposite end of it, you see a faint, blue stripe of light, teal blue, luring you towards it. A night light maybe, or some indirect mood lighting shit that was all the rage since LED’s hit the Pentagram a few years ago, shining through a cracked door. Intentionally inconspicuous, your brain whispers, but anything was better than the dim darkness you were stumbling in now. 

When you reach the glowing gap and peek cautiously into the adjacent room, one hand almost on the handle, a groan makes you freeze before you could register what you are looking at.

Oh satan.

Vox.

A LOT of Vox.

The overlord was fucking home, and not just that. In his bedroom - your target location - naked, an impressive and glowing cock in hand, working himself in a way he would definitely not appreciate anyone seeing him in. You felt your neck and cheeks flush with heat - another thing you did not expect nor calculate for. But you can’t look away - as surreal and absolutely dangerous this situation is - his deliciously large hands and the sheer sight of his luminous length glistening with precum as he strokes himself cuts your breath short with highly inappropriate lust. The screen in front of him was bright, and for a moment, you were so enraptured with him that you didn’t recognize the silhouette he was pumping himself to.

You.

It’s you.

In this ridiculous maid costume that was unconsciously riding up your ass, sneaking through the corridor, not even half a minute ago. With growing horror you watch yourself taking tentative steps through the living room, the you on the screen hesitating before deciding to move to the left, one arm reaching out to a cracked open door.

“Fuck, yes.”

The words were barely said when your brain kickstarts.

Fuck, no.

He knew. He knew you were here.

In a flight of panic, you bolted for the corridor, back to the door, back to the safety of not-fucking-here, but you couldn’t even make four steps before your wrists were bound by cables shooting out of the walls surrounding you. You ready yourself to slip through them, but again, your powers leave you high and dry again. Helpless, you back away into the nearest wall, and the door opens fully, with the TV demon standing in the frame. Tall, intimidating even butt-fucking-naked, and a cocky smile on his HD face.

“Hello, my dear,” he almost coos and takes a few steps towards you as you writhe in the restrictions, desperately trying to slip out and get the fuck away. “I’m so glad you got my invitation!”

“Invitation?” That makes you still against the cables, your eyes darting over his face, confused. What the hell does that mean? You weren’t invited, you had a job to... Oh. Oh shit.

“You’re the client?”

His face was answer enough, and you would have slapped yourself for your stupidity if he hadn't had you in an iron grip. A loud game-show ding startles you back into the here and now, he was so much closer than before…

“Sure thing, doll! How else was I supposed to catch a slippery little thing like you without scaring you off?”

He traces his fingers down your cheek, his tips sparking with static electricity. How fucked up are you that this turns you on? Not being able to suppress the need to glance at his still shining and ripped cock again, you swallow hard. Where is your sense of self-preservation? Apparently left outside of this apartment, along with your usual foresight and dignity.

Cables wrap around your thighs and with a yelp you feel yourself getting lifted, legs parted by the wires. You almost topple over but are caught by his hands on your arms and faced with a smirk when you press your back into the wall, stabilizing yourself with a reddened face.

“Those didn’t come with the uniform,” He has the audacity to wink at you, nudging to the black lace panties you wear - excuse a girl for not wearing granny panties in the workplace - and you want to retort something snarky to him, when he looks at you that way. 

Within a moment, you realize two things.

Firstly, with the way he was roaming your body, his eyes lingering not only on your face, but your tits and the flimsy underwear concealing your very obvious wet arousal - you were fucked one way or the other. Which should’ve terrified you. Emphasis on ‘should’.

Because the other thing was, that even though he had bound you, even though you were at the mercy of this powerful sinner who tricked and trapped you here, rendering your power useless with whatever-the-fuck… he didn’t seem malicious, but rather… curious? Fascinated? Playful? You can’t really pinpoint it, but something tells you that - if you play your cards right - you might get more out of this make-pretend job than a jetstream-bathtub and hopefully all your limbs intact. And most importantly - you have nothing to lose.

“They're from my personal collection - lucky coincidence that they match the overall vibe of your staff's... uniform." It takes a lot to steady your voice as you talk, with the way his clawed hands run along the insides of your legs, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake.

He cocks his brow, as if he's pleasantly surprised, and licks his lips before he answers, his voice sultry and dripping of sexual tension.

"Mh... Luck favors the prepared, I always say. Oh, and speaking of slippery and prepared, sweetheart..."

You gasp as you feel the soft fabric being pushed aside and long fingers running lightly through your drenched folds. Fuck, you can already tell just how skilled those fingers must be. How great they'd feel deep inside you. Involuntarily, you buck your hips to guide them to where you wanted them most - onto your clit and burrowed to his knuckles - the desperation just dripping from you as he chuckles and lets his thumb glide over the throbbing pearl teasingly teasingly as he pushes one of his digits in. Your head rolls against the wall behind you with a needy moan escaping your lips and you have to bite them to stay focussed for what you were about to do.

"What a sight. You have no idea how long I've waited for this moment, doll, seeing you all desperate and fucking..."

The rest of his sentence died in his throat, replaced by a low, long and stuttering moan. Half shocked, half aroused, he looked down to his throbbing cock, then his head snapped up to you, grinning down on him. You moved your hips again, grinding down on his unmoving fingers, frozen in place at his confusion, confirming your suspicion that he didn't know about your other power. Not as strong as your intangibility, sure, but strong enough for him to feel - and see - the ghostly hand you envisioned around his dick, continuing what he started, pumping him in leisurely, slow strokes. 

"Didn't know about that move, doll." His hand comes alive again, and even though his voice glitches a bit he adds another one, much more tenderly and almost softly, properly prepping you. And judging by the circumference of the cock you feel through your spectral hand, it was more than precaution, but nothing less than a mercy. Mercy you were ready to beg for, given his thumb would continue the delicious circles it drew, just the right pressure, just the right pace to push you near the edge without tipping you over it.

"You're just a whole mystery, huh?"

Now fairly certain your head wouldn't roll at the end of this encounter, you let your last reservations slide. It has been too long since you were in the hands of a skilled lover, one that didn't disappoint, that didn't come too soon or drilled amateurishly into you in search for the g-spot they never found. This one knew what he was doing, finally, and by satan you wouldn't waste this opportunity. Make it a night to remember, and who knows? If you fuck his brains out, maybe he'd be knocked out long enough after for you to make a quick and easy exit. You imagined the spectre hand to twist, its thumb mapping the soft ridges around the crown. That seems to do the trick for Vox, and the look he shoots you deeply satisfies. "Fuck me, that's good."

Playing into this sentiment, you didn’t stifle the moans his damn fingers stroke out of you, the way they glide in and out, pressure on all the right marks without fail is too good to hold back. Your skin felt on fire, even without him touching anything but your pussy, and you felt no energy left to care that your clothes - if you would call them that - seemed to fall apart on your body, skirt pushed up to your waist, top loose around your shoulders and almost down enough to let your boobs fall out. You must look a mess, but then again the overlord didn’t seem to mind - quite the contrary. He looked outright hungry, eyes glitching occasionally with a particular squeeze of your hand or a poignant lustful moan from your lips.

“Do you have to concentrate to do that?”

“A little.”

His fingers hitting that one sweet spot inside you, cutting any other, more elaborate explanation short. Fucking hell, that you had to get tricked and trapped by an overlord to find a man that doesn’t think ‘foreplay’ is the interview before a soccer game was a fucking travesty. Grateful for that fact you withdraw from your own pleasure and decided to reward him, regaining your concentration enough to imagine a second hand to pay attention to the firm, very plump balls of his, rolling them in its palm and giving them a gentle, tentative squeeze.

“Cool party trick though, isn’t it?”

As if you challenged him, there’s a subtle change in his demeanor - his eyes more inquisitive, his fingers more eager and fervent, and a third one joined the others, stretching you oh-so-deliciously. For a moment you think you’d lose control, the ghost hands flickering before you got a grip on them again, determined to not tip the scales so soon. But you had to admit - it was tempting, to give into this implied command: Submit, let me take care of you, let me fuck you dumb.  

Little did he know, you were all about equality - or nothing at all. And if he was allowed to plow you with three fingers, surely he couldn’t protest against a third hand.

You weren’t sure how you’d manage it… the power was new, still waiting to be mastered, but you willed a third hand into reality, joining the one on his balls, softly working their way down and massaging his perineum. It strained you to no end, operating the conjured hands while Vox was adamant to make you cum on his fingers alone, but with how the cables shook and loosened around you, you were fairly certain it was enough to show him you meant business, your message clear: If anything, baby, we will fuck each other dumb. 

You watch with almost painful arousal how his screen flashes from the three-way-stimulation, his teeth slightly baring from the sensation but without losing his cocky smirk, as if to show his resilience.

"You'd be the life of any party I know, sugar, if you can pull shit like this out your sleeve."

With a wince from you, he pulled his fingers out, leaving you gaping, empty and fucking whining at the loss, eyes sharp and with a dangerous glint in them. "But you're not the only one with a few secret talents."

He kneels down then, opens his mouth, and you can't believe your eyes as a thick, long, very analog blue tongue unfolds and licks his lips hungrily and almost impatiently. A hand around each thigh spreading you almost impossibly wide, the hot breath feels chilling against your slick opening, and a brush of the tip of his tongue on your swollen clit makes your toes curl and your muscles tense with expectation. Your gaze, locked with his, breaks only when your head throws back and you moan out his name as he truly begins to eat you out. 

No teasing or games, no building up the tension - it's unmerciful, frenetic, his tongue alternately flickering on your clit with its pointed tip and pushing deep into your core with an almost unbearable thickness until there was no space left to be filled, tasting every little centimeter inside. Instinctively, your real hands twitch in their restraints, wanting to reach out, grab his head, the frame of his screen, fucking anything really just to have something of him to hold onto and push. Your hips can't hold still, but he made sure not to lose an inch as his hands gripped your ass down and into him as if he heard your thoughts, drawing you deeper into his maw as he devours you. Your spirit hands fade in and out, your mind unable to keep them steadily corporeal - he was too good, his tongue was too good, not once did his rhythm falter nor the damn thing slow down, giving you no chance to collect yourself.

Finally - oh god finally - his cables loosened enough for you to dart your hands towards him, finding a saving anchor on his arms. You literally felt like you were drowning - wet and out of breath, senses fogged by that wonderfully violent tongue swiping and licking and prodding and fucking pulsing. When he hummed into your cunt, all dams broke, and you could only stutter “fuck, cumming - oh my God-” before you snapped and you fell into the depths of your orgasm.

Whatever prick, mouth or fingers you had on and in you before - this erased them all. Never before felt your head so light, your cunt so heavy and hell so divine.

His relentless licks make you mewl with every stroke as he rides you through your high, but he just doesn’t stop. Greedy, rawing your abused cunt to a point where moans turn into almost pained whimpers and your body twitches and squirms, begging for him to relent.

Mercifully he understands, and when he stands up, you only passingly realize with a pang of bad conscience that your spectre limbs have dissipated somewhere along the line, leaving him high and dry - only metaphorically, because his cock was soaked in leaking cum.

He hooks your legs over his arm, his other snaking around your waist to lift you from the wall, and you made no motion to resist it, being that the prospect of his soft sheets on his bed were much more preferable than color-coated concrete on your back. The short walk over feels like the eye of the storm - a short illusion of a safe space, and you use it to assess the damage.

For one - the ‘clothes’ you wore were useless now, they did nothing clothes were supposed to do - The sleeves were half-ripped from the bralette, hanging by a thread, and the top itself so far down your tits were fully out, nipples dark and flushed, while the skirt was nothing more than a drape at this point, hiding the mess on your thighs and reddened, puffed lips.

Then you look up through your lashes, up to the best lay you ever had, down below as well as up above. You should plan your escape, should use the time you had now to calculate what to do to get the fuck out while you could - Instead your horny little fucked-up brain was busy imagining how you could draw this out, make him so pussydrunk he’d send another decoy job weekly, just so you could return to that magic tongue again and again.

You were right. The sheets felt soft and obscenely expensive. You spread your fingers, the only real motion you were still able to make for now, taking his roaming gaze and the appreciative expression on his screen as a badge of honor. Your senses tingled, and you blinked one, two times, listening into your powers. The walls of his apartment were prepped by him to prevent you from leaving - electricity most likely, something intangible itself - but the ceiling and floors weren’t.

“Got another round in you, baby?”

You look up to him as he wraps your legs around his waist,lining himself up to you, tip ready and loaded. But he doesn’t push in. He waits, and you could cry as he does so.

Fucking hell, the ruthless media overlord half of hell fears to the point they piss themselves is waiting for your consent.

It’s this unexpected, contradictory duality that draws your lips into a smile. Trapping you in his territory, able to kill you with his goddamn pinkie, and yet the only thing he does is make you cum on his mouth and wait for a ‘yes’ to fuck you mindless - how could you not fall for that? Even more, how could you not test your luck with that?

With regained strength you reach for his dick, fingers wrapping firmly around his girthy base. His body follows your gentle guidance, and he lets himself glide into your ready heat with a groan that sends a shiver down your spine - such an earnest sound it makes you want to return the favor tenfold. And you just knew the way you could.

“You don’t need to worry about my stamina,” Voice like honey, you refocus your mind, visualizing the wicked idea that had entered your mind.

A soft hand. Long, flexible fingers, slick and smooth and ready. It formed as you thought it, stroking the cleft of his ass, halting at the tight ring of muscle it found, testing his reaction with a teasing, light press against his opening.

The reaction was priceless. Face glitching, hips jerking violently forward into you as its fingers pass his entrance and slide into him, coming to a halt at that one, very sensitive spot. His breath is ragged and eyes fucking wild, but the way he bends down, gripping your hands to entangle them with yours and pressing as much midnight-blue skin against yours tells you that he doesn’t exactly hate it.

“Worry about your own,” you whisper against the skin of his chest, grinning at the way he shudders at the sultry tone of your voice and the challenging eyes of yours, hilted in your pussy still, taking the ghostly fingers like a good boy.

“Whatever you did to your apartment, you only did it to the walls - the floor is fair game - ah fuck-”

He found some of his senses back, his thrust surprising your nerves with a sudden jolt of electricity - added by him or imagined by you, you can’t tell. He fills you so perfectly, as if molded just for you, big and hard and absolutely sublime, and when he brings his knees up more and bends you at the waist he manages to push in even deeper, pounding almost at your cervix with increasingly feverish, tough thrusts. Again, he wanted to break your concentration, but this time, you were prepared. You let your body do what you trained it to do - it goes hazy, misty, almost translucent in a blue-ish hue, revealing the vision of his buried prick deep inside you, teal glow in navy mist, before you solidify again and find the strength to grin up at him.

“If you cum before I do, I’m out of here.”

There was a wicked glint on that screen of his, and he upped the pace of his snapping hips, pressing you deeper into the mattress.

"Guess you'll have to move in then, baby." His voice sounds almost distorted, his body starts to spark with fizzing bolts of electric energy, and when he grips the headboard with one hand to gain more momentum to fuck even faster and stronger into you, you almost want to take him up on that quip, convinced his apartment was equipped with more than just a boring jetstream hot tub.

Your spirit fingers stroke in a come-hither motion over his prostate, over and over, varying in pressure, intensity and speed, and each swipe makes him moan a little louder, driving his dick a little deeper into you. It's becoming a race towards a finish line none of you wanted to get to in the first place, a fight of wills and bodies, pushing you to your limits judging by the way your oversensitive pussy clenches, begging for release once more. But by Satan himself you did not intend to lose without a good fight, your fingers raking over his lithe back and the sharp edges of his body, lingering, scraping, writing wordless praises into his skin in red streaks.

“In fact, sweetheart,” he says as he pounds you and your pants become out even louder, “I’ll make you cum so hard you don’t want to leave - you’ll scream my name so loud they’ll hear you down in Wrath, know exactly where you’ll be living from now on.”

Vox, too, is close, you can see it, hear it, most importantly feel it. One hand remaining on the headboard, the other scoops you up by your neck, pulling you onto his face in a kiss so breathtaking and fierce you almost pass out. It's sloppy and lustful, it's lips against lips and tongue on tongue, and your ability to use either becomes redundant when you and him both simultaneously cry out, orgasms overlap and intertwine, you cunt clenching tightly around his pulsating length, sending spurt after spurt of hot cum into you as your own release drips onto the soaked sheets below. Your eyes roll back, the fingers buried inside his tightened ass vanish and your muscles relax. With his hand still on your neck, claws digging into your skin, he slowly brings you back onto the mattress to let you fall together with him.

Silence settles for a second. A brief moment of stillness and clarity, sweat cooling your skin, hearts slowing down and breathing returning to normalcy. You feel the aftermath of his touches everywhere. His marks litter you from top to bottom: Your wrists and thighs are covered in red streaks from the tightness of his cable bondage. Your whole skin tingles from the waves of his inherent electric current. But most telling of all was the pooling mess inside of you, already leaking.

You let yourself feel the weight of his body on yours - it's an intoxicating feeling, the heat radiating off his dark blue skin, and the subtle charge beneath, a hidden hum underneath your fingertips, telling of the immense power of an Overlord you just let fuck you senseless. Now would be the time to run - his screen was completely blue, turned off while he recovered his breath - if you wanted, you could disappear, and he wouldn't be able to stop you or track you down. But when you searched the depths of your mind and body for regret and the sense of danger it brought - there was none. Only satiated warmth, an afterglow you could bathe in, like a warm, healing balm, easing your aching bones and bruised skin.

And just in that moment of resolve, Vox’s screen returned to show his face, and he lifted his head slightly to look at you with eyes as bright and vivid as the neon signs lighting up the streets of the entertainment district outside his windows.

One Month Later

“Thanks babes, I was about to lose my shit when Velma and Kelly fucking quit on me. Bunch of pussies, those two, seriously.”

You shoot Velvette a smile over your shoulder, adjusting the last couple of details on six of her girls, ghostly blue hands hovering around them - clipping a collar here, buckling a shoe there. You pity the two foolish girls - the runway show had Velvette occupied tonight, but tomorrow - well, you were sure Vel was about to annihilate their sorry stylist asses for blowing her off last minute… and not just with a snarky post on Sinstagram.

“No problem, Vel, that’s what I’m here for.”

The small woman laughs sarcastically, but not in the usual mean way, but a playful one, a friendly one. That was one of the things you could pride yourself on - That Velvette, social media queen and judge of what’s hot and not, fell in love with you almost as fast and hard as Vox did.

“Darling, we both know that no one really knows what exactly Vox hired you for. What was the job description he pulled out of his flat ass again?” she raises a cocky brow, sipping obnoxiously on her iced coffee to go in her hands, holding out another, identical one for you. “Ah, yes, ‘ASS’.”

You take the drink from her, smiling mischievously back at her. When Vox came up with that title, he didn’t even notice the ambiguity of its abbreviation, and you let him stew over it for almost a day before you told him, silently convinced your fingers left a memorable impression. “It’s ‘Administrative Services Specialist', and what can I say? My resumee was very convincing.”

Velvette snorts into her vanilla foam. “Funny name for your cunt love, but you do you. Now shoo. Didn’t you and flatface have a date tonight?”

You wave her a quick goodbye, sipping up the cold drink in one gulp and throwing it into the trash as you bypass it, hurrying down the hall and plucking the private keycard from your back pocket. You scan it at the elevators, noticing the other employees backing away from you, and you couldn’t hide the grin that flashed your face. No one dared to ride in that elevator with you, a very badly kept secret that it sent you one way straight to Vox’s apartment, and every one of them would rather chew glass than be caught by whatever awaited the opening elevator doors.

And Vel was right - you had a date with Vox, a special one at that.

Barely three weeks ago you actually did move in - call it a whim of insanity, call it fate - and since that, your days were filled with a job in the Vee Tower that you actually liked (no one shed a tear at the ‘Dusty Pages’ closure notice) and the nights were spent naked, sweaty and blissfully explicit under, on top and any other possible way with Vox in his bed. You learned something new about yourself - with the right partner, you were almost insatiable. Another thing you learned was that Vox seemed to feel just the same. Lucky coincidences indeed.

But date night was something special. Giving up the alibi bookshop was easy enough - but you were adamant that you still wanted to do your other jobs.

Not because of the money - Vox provided generously, and wouldn’t take a cent from you (although you managed to convince him to let you buy him at least snacks and small gifts, an exception you abused to the absolute limit). No, you actually liked to sneak through the night, liked the thrill of moving in the shadows and shifting through secured buildings. Liked the excited arousal you felt after a completed heist.

To preserve your secret, you and Vox decided that you wouldn’t reveal your main power to the others at Vee Tower, the only other people who knew were Velvette and Valentino.

The latter wasn’t your biggest fan, and who could blame him, giving that you were living with  and fucking his ex-lover, but he had his own flings and things to take care of, and after a few occasions where you stepped in to help him out at shoots and with his scripts, he at least became cordial towards you.

But date night was where you went out to do a job, secured through Vox for one of his many business partners, and the pool of people the TV demon had on hands that needed or wanted something of value was a bottomless pit from which you could choose the ones you liked the best. And your digital lover not only organized your gigs - he became your eyes and ears, your literal partner in crime.

The doors open, and Vox stands waiting, leaning, in the doorway, arms crossed and a grin on his face.

“You’re late, doll.”

“I know I know, but Vel needed some helping hands - you know I can’t leave her hanging.”

“Oh, I saw.”, he chuckles, his screen switching from his face to images of you from the security cameras on Velvettes floor, close ups of your face, your tits and ass sprinkled in between. ”You know I can never see enough of you, gotta keep those cameras on.”

You scoffed, but did so with a smile before you kissed him and ran off into the closet, undressing quickly while he followed you, letting himself fall down on his bed and watching you intensely as you peeled your clothes from your body and slipped into your signature skintight suit. By the time you were changed his cock was hard, straining his pants which you acknowledged with an appreciative smile.

You both exchange longing looks, but time is ticking. You put the newest addition to your equipment in your ear - a tiny, wireless headset, directly connected to Vox, bend over the bed, your tongue running over the warm line of his lower lip and sigh as he groans with want.

“I know it’s usually payment upfront, baby, but we’re already behind schedule.”

You can’t seem to tear yourself from him with those big hands on your ass squeezing tightly and that goddamn tongue in your mouth, your mind half decided to tell your client to fuck off and fuck the demon in front of you senseless. But he gently pulls away, his eyes burning not only with need, but also with pride. A look you loved to see on him.

“And besides, you are so much more voracious after a job well done.”

He slaps your ass as you pass him, and you shift through the wall, now almost as eager to steal that stupid looking red duck from some dingy, rundown hotel as you were to return to his waiting cock to cash in your salary.

[ihopeiexplode]

🎤 “One of many...” [Next →]

—

sukuna would be standing next to the trio, just how did they even convince him to watch the concert with them?? but it's like not he had a choice anyway, if he's being honest he wanted to see if the band was as good as Yuji said it was

"C'mon 'kuna lighten up a bit, will you?? you'll love it trust."

"Please. With this amount of boys already drooling for the lead singer? doubt that, bet she just whores herself around."

"oh but you haven't seen y/n yet"

"is y/n the name of the lead singer or what?"

"Obviously, speaking off it's starting!!"

he'd just roll his eyes at Yuji's statement, as if. he'll give you 3 minutes top to impress him plus you're probably one of those overhyped singers anyway

—

he takes it back.

the moment you stepped on stage he was immediately silenced,

As you walked on stage with your other hand members following along he was already Starstruck. He tried to snap out of it, I mean he still hasn't heard your singing either way, couldn't be that good right?

—

He takes it back, AGAIN...

The moment he heard you sing it sounded so angelic and smoothing?? He got so caught up he didn't even notice Yuji grinning at him...

"so...what do you think?"

"it's okay I guess." Your voice sounded amazing.

But it's not like he'll admit that he'll just get teased by Yuji, and he's NOT. having that.

"I'm sure it's more than okay looking at your face"

The only reply he got was Sukuna flicking his head..ouch...

Yuji would flinch before rubbing onto the spot Sukuna flicked,

"y'knowww... After this wanna go backstage with us?"

"Please. As if."

—

'as if' he says..

The moment Yuji opened the door leading backstage of course they were greeted by you and Toji bickering while Choso and Yuki were watching, what else was new?

But the moment you heard the door open you and Toji quickly broke up your fighting thinking it was Nanami, but luckily it was just Yuji, Megumi, and Nobara, anddd...a taller version of Yuji but with tattoos?...

"hii Yuji!! Megumi and Nobara!!"

You quickly greeted the three of them with a smile while they did the same, and then you made your way toward the stranger before introducing yourself, not that you needed one anyway...

"helloo!! And you are?"

He's really hoping you don't see the red tint on his cheeks as he shook your hand before backing away after doing so....

"Sukuna, I'm Yujis and Choso's older brother"

Even if you didn't notice him slightly blushing at your interaction, everyone else seemed to notice,

Especially Yuji and Choso as they shot a glance at each other before smirking and chuckling

Before you could reply suddenly you felt your phone ringing... You quickly excused yourself following with an apology before leaving the room

As you left Sukuna just stood there with his arms crossed as everyone just stared at him with a teasing expression on their faces

"Oooo looks like Sukuna has a crush!!" (Yuji)

"too bad, you guys would make a cute couple if she wasn't taken" (toji)

Sukuna would immediately send a glance at Toji, your take? How? Every man besides him is out of your league, so just how are you taken?

"Honestly I don't get what y/n sees in him! She could do so much better!" (Nobara)

"I hope they break up" (toji)

Before anyone could say anything else suddenly you walked into the room

"heyy so what were you guys talking about!!"

"nothing don't worry!! So who called you? Was it nanami?" (Yuki)

"nope it was my boyfriend"

"of course it is..." (Toji)

—

[⛩️] @: Likes & Reblogs R appreciated! ^^

A/n: HOW DOES SOMEONE WRITE WITHOUT MUSIC...THE WHOLE VIBE HERE FELT OFF AND AWKWARD.

Taglist: @cadibearrr @venzlenes @sjndvi @sn1perz

[anne-chloe]

“So Annoying”

Lando Norris x F!Reader

Summary : Lando irritates you a lot, but what if you realise those are the things that attract you the most?

Word Count : 2413

I am by no means an F1 fan, I only know of Lando because a good friend of mine is head over heels for him. She asked me to write this, and I originally wasn’t planning on publicly sharing it, but if she enjoyed it then I guess other people will too. I’m deeply sorry for any spelling or grammar errors, this wasn’t proof read at all. If Lando seems OOC in anyway, I apologise, I wrote this in roughly 1 hour and only did a quick research about him.

Enjoy!

You always dreaded race weekends.

Not for any particular reason other than the racer himself: Lando. He was charming enough as a person, always smiling and always cheerful, but he was the bane of your very existence.

“Mornin’,” Lando greeted, his waltz into the room making your eye twitch. He reached the mini fridge and picked himself a drink, and it was only once his back was turned that you stuck your tongue out.

Childish, sure, but could anyone blame you when he was so obnoxious?

Lando turned to face you, a slurping noise filling the room. You tried not to growl at the sound, and instead focused your mind on the social media post you had been re-reading for the past 5 minutes.

Your role was simple. While Lando was truly the star of the show, you worked behind the scenes as a PR despite your disdain for the racer. You ensured his publicity remained sparkly clean; you created social media posts to promote him as much as possible, and you helped, sometimes, to secure him for brand deals when possible.

Many people had questioned why you disliked Lando so much, and truthfully it was difficult to answer sometimes. He treated you and the rest of his PR team with respect, but there was only one thing that got on your nerves, and that was—

“Hey, personal assistant Y/N, are you listening to me?”

That.

You forced a smile and slowly lowered your phone. “Haven’t I asked you to not call me that?” You asked, a slight strain to your voice.

Lando had, at some point, sat on the sofa across from you. One leg was crossed over the other, and he looked to be comfy. His shoulders bounced as he shrugged, impartial to your request. “Probably,” he said, his lopsided, boyish smile returning, as usual whenever he pissed you off.

You unconsciously squeezed the sides of your phone to the point you thought it would shatter.

“What do you want?” You asked through gritted teeth, your smile feeling tight on your cheeks. You wondered if it was possible to tear muscles from faking a smile so much.

Lando recapped his drink and lifted the bottle so he could watch the liquid swirl around. For a brief moment, you felt like launching your phone at him and storming out, because he was obviously wasting your time on purpose. Then, he placed the bottle on the table and leaned back, his smile ever-so-bright.

“Nothing. Never mind.”

You groaned out loud. Lando’s eyes widened as you suddenly stood up.

“Huh? Where are you going?” Lando asked, watching as you stalked across the room and towards the door.

“To find my sanity,” you snapped, more harshly than you had intended. You reached out for the door, but paused with your blood boiling hot as Lando’s angelic laugh filled the room. You spun around on your heel, steam practically rising from your ears. “Why are you laughing?”

Lando tilted his head to the side, making him appear all the more innocent.

But he was far from innocent in annoying you.

“Because you’re so easy to wind up,” he teased, his smile reaching his eyes. “I’ve been told that you get annoyed by me, and I never noticed it before. So I guess it’s true, huh?”

You felt your face burn hot. Not only did Lando know how much he irritated you, but someone had openly told him as much. You tried to think back to who it could possibly be, but there were far too many culprits possible for doing something like that. Nothing could ever be kept a secret, not even secrets you’d never said aloud.

Though, you wondered if your irritation for Lando was even a secret. You weren’t the best at containing your emotions, and you had been told before that you were very much an open book.

You blinked yourself into a frown, your arms coming up to cross defensively over your chest. “Think what you want,” you muttered, “but don’t forget that I am the person in charge of your media representation.”

Lando’s smile fell from his face in an instant, and it was the first time you had ever witnessed him become so serious. “What do you mean by that?”

He seemed uncharacteristically nervous in that moment, and a spark of triumph warmed your chest. You slowly turned and pushed the door open, deciding that simple silence was the best answer for him.

Let him stew in his confusion.

Over the next few weeks, the hours went by in a blur. Interviews came and went, training flew by in the blink of an eye… and it all led up to the race that everyone had been anticipating.

Lando hadn’t spoken a word to you since you basically threatened to ruin his reputation. As much as you disliked Lando, you didn’t hate him enough to do something so cruel. Not only would you be tarnishing his golden reputation, but you’d also damage your own career permanently. And for the sake of what? Him annoying you? It wasn’t worth it.

You sat amongst the rest of Lando’s team, listening absentmindedly as the crew communicated with one another through headsets. The tension in the paddock was a mix of relaxation, excitement and nerves. While you disliked Lando, you were nervous for his performance.

As much as you never wanted to boost his already inflated ego, he was a brilliant racer. You were almost always present during his practice sessions, sometimes taking sneaky pictures or low quality videos for the PR page (of course, for the intentions of promoting Lando, and certainly not for your own personal benefit), and it always served as a reminder as to why you had chosen to represent Lando and the rest of the team.

You were present when Lando was offered, accepted and signed to McLaren. It was a huge moment for him, and certainly exciting. Like the rest of the team, you understood the high expectations for Lando and his future in racing. And his face when he signed contracts, his smile … he was ecstatic the entire time, humble, like he was caught up in a dream.

You could recall how his eyes twinkled when he met your reassuring gaze. His smooth, gentle voice as he greeted everybody with kindness, and when you introduced yourself as the PR for the first time, you could remember looking between his eyes and his lips, wondering how soft they would feel against your own—

—Your phone clattered to the floor.

The buzzing chatter in the paddock came to a halt as heads turned in your direction. You froze, words caught up in your throat before you snapped into reality and snatched your phone from the floor. You hastily checked for damage to the screen, and when you confirmed there was none, you smiled rather sheepishly to the rest of the crew.

“Sorry,” you quickly said, coughing to clear your throat. There was that familiar burning in your cheeks, and you coughed again before turning away. “I need a drink. And some fresh air. Excuse me.”

You didn’t wait for a response. You practically rushed out the door and away from the curious eyes of your colleagues.

Because what the fuck is wrong with you?

You stomped off in a random direction, unsure of where you should even go. Yes, you needed some fresh air, maybe some quiet from all the noise and buzzing excitement, but could you seriously trust yourself not to let your mind wander to something like that again?

You didn’t even know where that thought had come from. When you first met Lando, your first impression was certainly not about whether his lips were soft or not. They were not focused on his smooth, sultry voice that plagued your thoughts as often as they did. It was a civil first impression and nothing else.

But that was the catalyst.

The race ended with Lando coming in second. You weren’t present emotionally for the finish, you were too caught up in your mind to comprehend whatever was happening.

You couldn’t think straight. Not anymore. Your thoughts were a jumbled mess. Every memory you had of Lando suddenly changed, each of them focusing on small details that you shouldn’t have ever remembered. Rather than reminiscing his obnoxious, boisterous behaviour, you could only focus on his hands and slender fingers; his hair that he so often ran his fingers through, making it unintentionally messy; his eyes that sparkled whenever he was happy; the dimples in his cheeks when he smiled…

“You’re awfully quiet. Aren’t you going to join us and celebrate?”

You flinched violently as the man of your complicated thoughts appeared.

You nervously licked your lips and deliberately stared down at his shoes, not risking the chance of getting lost in his eyes. You didn’t want to find out what your thoughts were capable of anymore. They were too dangerous. “No… no, I’m not. I think I’m going to go home early, actually,” you muttered, hoping it would be enough to shoo Lando away.

But it wasn’t enough.

Lando’s hand appeared, and his fingers very gently grasped your chin. You gasped as he guided your head up, so you were now looking at him.

His head was tilted to the side, and for once he wasn’t smiling and seeming pleased with himself. If anything, he looked worried. His frown was deep, and his eyes were soft and caring as he stared, searching into yours for answers that you wouldn’t provide verbally.

Lando lifted his other hand and pressed the back of it to your forehead. He hummed and slowly nodded his head. “You do feel really warm, and your cheeks are super red.”

Fuck. You felt like turning and smacking your face against the nearest wall. Hopefully it would knock you out and send you to a life where none of this was happening.

“You must be sick. Let me walk you back to the hotel.” Lando let go of your chin and placed a hand on your shoulder, his fingers giving a firm squeeze that you guessed was meant as reassuring.

“That’s…” you stammered, your upper body jolting while your lower body felt like jelly. “That’s fine!” You gasped out, suddenly finding it impossible to speak coherently. “I can walk myself. You should—you should go and celebrate, uh, with everyone else—“

Lando snorted out a laugh. “And chance you dropping dead on your way back? I don’t think so. You might not like me very much, Y/N, but I actually enjoy having you as my personal assistant.”

You bit down on your lip. Hard.

Perhaps it was to stop you from screaming in frustration to the awful title he had given you, or maybe it was because you were so incredibly flustered by his hand still touching your shoulder. Either way, you couldn’t tell. The only thing you were certain of was the strange, godawful metallic taste filling your mouth.

You paused against Lando’s guiding push, your own hand reaching up to gently press against your mouth. You looked down at your skin, which was now smeared red with blood.

“Ouch?” Lando said, now staring wide eyed at the small trickle of blood trailing from your mouth. “What happened?”

“It’s fine,” you said quickly, taking this chance to step away from him. You needed to create some distance or else you feared your next move would be to faint. Though, in second thoughts, that actually sounded like the best escape route away from Lando and his intoxicating smell of Dior Suavage, the signature waft of vanilla notes entangling the last of your senses and—

“Shit. Shit. Shit.” You spun away from Lando and covered your mouth with your hand again, applying pressure to the tear on your lips.

As if you were seriously drowning in his cologne…

“Let me look,” Lando said, stepping into your line of sight again. “The medic bay is still set up, we can go and—“

“I said it’s fine!” You hissed, swatting his hand away from your face. “Stop fussing!”

Lando rolled his eyes. “Stop being stubborn,” he argued, his hands grasping your shoulders and giving you a small shake. “It’s obviously not fine. Why won’t you let me help you?”

“Because I—“ you froze, now noticing the genuine softness in his eyes. You opened your mouth to continue arguing again, but no sound came out, leaving you to look incredibly daft with your lips parted so wide. “I don’t— I just—“

Perhaps he wasn’t even aware that he was doing it, or I’m maybe he knew exactly what he was doing to you, but his hands slowly trailed down from your shoulders until they reached your hands. His fingers, calloused and not at all smooth, tangled with yours. You blinked rapidly, his eyes boring deep into yours in search of something.

And the feeling was magnetic. His hands fit so perfectly with yours, to the point you knew you would be devastated if he let go.

“You just what?” Lando asked, his voice dropping into a low, husky whisper.

There was no intelligible answer. You couldn’t conjure a single thought that would be suitable enough for the moment.

Slowly, Lando leaned in closer, as if he was blind and couldn’t see deep enough into your eyes. His nose was touching yours, and you held your breath in anticipation for what was to come next.

This was the closest he had ever been before. It was a situation you had never considered happening, because it shouldn’t have been happening. You found Lando annoying and unbearable; he was loud and always on the move, and yet…

Those were the qualities that kept you entertained, no matter how irksome they could get at times.

And before you could register what was happening, his lips pressed to yours. His hands let go of your hands and planted against your hips, holding you firmly in place. You were grateful for the anchor, because if he wasn’t holding you up then you feared you’d simply drop to the ground without the support.

You forgot everything else in that moment.

You forgot about the cut on your lip.

You forgot about the intention to return to the hotel room.

You forgot about every annoying thing about Lando.

But there was something you could only focus on.

And it was the softness of his lips against yours.