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lqvesoph · 6 months

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Is it over now - LN4

lando norris x fem!reader

summary: your situationship with lando ended 10 months ago… or did it? based on taylor swift’s "is it over now"

warnings: toxic behavior, cheating, smut, p in v, dirty talk, handjob, fingering, edging, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, praise (with slight degradation)

a/n: you have no idea how long it took me to finish this and idk the word count but its long and filthy. Also this gif does things to me… just the way he looked that day🤌🏻 the curls the beard the cheekbones

masterlist | taglist

You knew he was gone. He left exactly 113 minutes ago. His flight had taken off 44 minutes ago. Angrily you turned around in your bed, kicking off the blanket and staring at the blank spot next to you where only three hours ago, Lando’s curly head had laid.

Since then you slept with each other. Again. And had a terrible screaming match. Again.

You knew it was for the better to let him go, you were toxic, your relationship, if you can call it that, had been from the very start two years ago when you drunkenly slept with each other after a celebration party.

Since then it’s been one hell of a ride. Neither of you were very good at the whole relationship and communication thing, so naturally your relationship was based on an endless circle of being somehow happy, until one of you screwed up, you fought, left and ended up in each others bed minimum three days later.

Some might say this behavior exhausts but for the two of you it was what made things exciting and addicting.

His touch, his lips, his body, HE was addictive.

But since the last time you broke up, things had changed. Lando had gotten a new girlfriend, something that made you mad as hell.

He knocked on your door last night, storming in and pinning you to the wall before violently attacking your lips with his.

But that wasn’t what made you mad, this was a rather regular occurrence any time one of you got a new partner. What made you mad was that when he woke up the next morning he didn’t stay like he usually would. He jumped out of bed, calling the previous night a 'mistake' and something that 'shouldn’t have happened'. On top of that he blamed you.

Naturally that resulted in your neighbors, once again, hearing a thirty minute screaming match which ended in you kicking Lando out of your door with the words "Don‘t ever call me or knock on my door again, especially not when you realize she can’t give you what you want!!" "I promise I won’t!!" "Oh you are a lying traitor!!".

You hated that even though he was gone for good now, he still wouldn’t leave your mind.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Fast forward to almost 10 months later. Mason, your very nice colleague picked you up from your office. You met on one of your threehundreds of awkward blind dates your friend had arranged, finding out that you actually worked for the same company. However that didn’t make the date any less awkward, because you mostly talked about work. But at least you kind of found a good friend now. You haven’t spoken to Lando since that night. To be perfectly honest, you didn’t think he actually wouldn’t come back.

"Hey, ready for that coffee?", he smiled.

You grabbed your bag and joined Mason. Together you walked to the cafe you‘ve been going to ever since the first time. You noticed he was a bit nervous for some reason, but you didn’t dare ask why, deep down you didn’t care but you wouldn’t admit that to yourself of anyone.

"Two latte‘s to go, please", Mason placed your order. While you waited you pulled out your phone to check some new messages from your friends.

"Lando Norris spotted with yet another model", Mason read the most recent headline when he opened twitter. "Can you believe that guy, huh?", he huffed.

"I bet she’s got blue eyes", you huffed and shook your head when Mason showed you a picture of the blonde girl with blue eyes who basically looked like your clone. "Predictable." "What?", Mason asked confused. "Oh nothing, I happen to know all his girls literally look the same", you fake smiled but thankfully Mason didn’t notice. For some reason he didn’t know about Lando and you when you met and you were rather happy about keeping it that way.

Sure Lando and you never paraded each other around on Instagram, you never actually were together long enough to feel comfortable with announcing your situationship, but you have been spotted together multiple times in the paddock or at parties.

Mason didn’t need to know about the boy who still kept you up some nights.

Your coffees were placed in front of you, making you look up and hesitate for a second. "Here you go", the waiter smiled and for a few seconds you saw Lando in front of you.

The dark brown curls, the green eyes and lord that smile, it reminded you of him.

"Thanks", Mason replied on your part and grabbed the coffees. "You good?", he asked. You simply nodded, still a little in your thoughts.

"Okay good because I’ve been wanting to ask you something", he said, glancing to you. "Hmm?"

"We‘ve been going on these take out coffee dates for almost 10 months now, and I remember how beautiful our first one was, the blind date. So I’ve been wondering, would you like to be my girlfriend?", Mason asked, glancing down at you to catch your reaction.

You looked at him with a blank face and simply nodded. "Uh-hmm", you muttered, your mind still some place elsewhere, more specifically at one of yours and Lando‘s good nights, with his head between your thighs.

"That’s great!", Mason called happily and brought you into a hug.

"Uh-hmm."

"I think we should go out tonight and celebrate this!", Mason spoke excitedly, pressing a kiss to your temple.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Mason told you to invite a few friends as he did the same so you decided to ask your two best friends to come. And same as you, they were never one to turn down an invitation to a night out.

"So, you’ve been acting a little weird ever since we’ve been here", Mia pointed out, taking a sip from her drink. "Mason asked me to be his girlfriend", you dryly replied, making Mia almost spit out her drink again and Laura shockingly turn her head towards you.

"What?!!", they called in unison. You nodded, taking another sip of your drink. "Well, did you say yes?", Laura pressed, both hers and Mia’s eyes staring you down intensely.

"Uh-hmm", you gave the same answer as to Mason a few hours prior. "That’s- uh great", Mia stuttered over her words for a bit. Her and Laura look each other before Mia looked away.

"Fine, if you won’t say it I will. Finally!!! I’m so damn happy you finally completely moved on from Lando and found someone who treats you better than that piece of junk", Laura started rambling and just in that moment your eyes locked with the devil Laura has been talking and you’ve been thinking about.

No fucking hell. That couldn’t be true.

How can it happen that after 10 months of not running into Lando once while clubbing, toady was the day where it happened?

"We both weren’t great in that relationship", you muttered, slightly defending Lando without even meaning to, your eyes still locked with his.

An arm wrapping around your waist pulled you out of the staring contest. "Hey babe", Mason whispered in your ear and placed a sweet kiss to your temple. You internally cringed at the nickname and the rotting sweet gesture.

Laura’s eyes sparkled at the sight of you, while Mia caught your annoyed looking gaze. She was always the one who understood you and Lando the most out of all of your friends. Maybe because she was such a sweet and genuine human that she believed both of you could change for each other or probably she simply understood how attached you grew to each other that no matter what, that bond wouldn’t break.

And judging from the fact how Lando and you captivated each other just moments ago, that bond also didn’t break in the last 10 months apart.

"We’ll go take a smoke, you wanna come?", Laura asked but you shook your head. Ever since the whole thing with Lando started you never touched a cigarette again. He didn’t like it, it was unhealthy and being with someone who doesn’t smoke made you smoke less as well, until you stopped completely.

"You should really enjoy life a little again", Laura replied, knowing your reasons to quit smoking.

"Maybe I’ve just come to the realization that I don’t need to poison my lungs to enjoy life", you simply answered, rolled your eyes and turned away.

"Can you get me something to drink?", you asked Mason who was still gently rubbing your waist, actually only wanting to bring some distance between the two of you. "Uh yeah sure, what do you want?", he asked. "Just bring me anything", you replied, stepping out of his embrace as a sign for him to get going.

He nodded and turned around but not before placing a gentle kiss to your forehead. You cringed internally.

"Y/n?", his voice suddenly spoke behind you, making your whole body freeze. Lando’s hand wrapped around your waist and pulled you in, something he did quite often when you were 'together'. "What are you doing here?", he whispered and you immediately felt your legs weakening. You had no idea why your body immediately reacted to him and you hated yourself for it.

Lando only smirked when he noticed you wobbling a little and gripped your waist tighter. "Missed me?", he muttered, placing a gentle kiss on your exposed shoulder, making your eyes flutter and your body lean back into his.

"300 days later and you still react to my touch like that", he smirked.

"He really can’t give it to you properly, I can see that from the way he was holding you", Lando snorted, making fun of Mason and you didn’t feel the slightest need to defend your boyfriend because you knew Lando was right.

"You shouldn’t", you warned Lando before hearing someone clear their throat behind you.

Lando dropped his hand from your waist and his gaze darkened when he saw Mason standing behind you

Said boy pulled you into a possessive hug.

"Hey, babe", he smiled, pressing a kiss to your temple before handing you your drink.

You sniffed before realizing it was Vodka Coke. A smirk made its way on Lando’s face when he saw your drink and your reaction. You knew he knew that you hated Coke.

"And you are?", Mason let his eyes wander to the curly headed boy in front of you. "Lando", he muttered, ignoring Mason who held out a hand for him to shake. "Okayyy", Mason whispered. "You wanna dance?", he then turned to you. You simply nodded and accepted his hand that led you into the crowd of people.

Mason pulled you in, wrapping his arms around your waist. "Isn’t that the guy with all of those girls?", he asked, leaning closer to your ear so you’d understand his words over to loud music.

"Lando Norris, yes", you nodded, interwinding your fingers behind Mason’s head. "Do you know each other?"

Flashbacks of Lando and you floated your mind. Driving along the French Riviera in his McLaren, the occasional stop to get in a quickie, or the sneaking away from his engineers to meet in his drivers room. And finally, him peacefully sleeping next to you on that one damned night, his curls a mess on his head, his torso bare with a few red marks on his back from your activities before and his beautiful eyes shut.

"No", you simply replied before placing your lips on Mason’s to get him to stop asking questions.

Mason more than happily gave in, letting his hand wander down to your ass, gently rubbing it. You kissed him harder, wanting him to be a little bit rougher as well, to firmly grab you and not just delicately touch you.

But instead he backed off.

"Woah, what’s gotten into you today? This is totally not like you!", he stated with a confused smile, which made you even angrier. Of course this was like you, he just didn’t know you well enough.

"I’ll be in the restroom for a second", you rolled your eyes before leaving him standing alone in the middle of the dance floor.

You pushed open the heavy door to the women’s restroom, being thankful that no one was there before putting your hands on the marble counter and leaving your head hanging.

Until the locking of the main door made your head shoot up. And to be perfectly honest, you half expect him to follow you in here.

"What happened to your newest toy?", Lando smirked, leaning against the now closed door. You rolled your eyes and didn’t reply.

Lando pushed himself off the door and walked closer to you until he stood directly behind you, looking at you through the mirror. "Don’t roll your eyes at me, baby", he warned.

"Now tell me what happened to that guy? Realized he couldn’t give you want you want?", Lando smirked, quoting your words from the night you last saw each other. You shook your head, not wanting to give into him.

"Come on baby, I saw your face. You didn’t like the gentle touches in the middle of a club dance floor, admit it!", he dared you.

"'Newest toy', what do you think of me? That I slept around with everyone that was in a 1 mile radius of me?", you ignored his words and stared at him through the mirror.

"Did you think I didn’t see you? There were flashing lights", you huffed. "Maybe I wanted you to see me and please baby, don’t play all innocent", he whispered, still standing behind you but coming dangerously close now.

"At least I had the decency to keep my nights out of sight unlike you!!", you called.

"Oh baby, don’t you think I‘ve heard the rumors? About your hips…", Lando stepped forward and let his hands trailed over your hips, "and thighs…", he let them wander further down to your thighs, gently rubbing the exposed skin. You let out a sigh at the familiar feeling and closed your eyes in pleasure, "and those whispered sighs", he smirked and quickly turned you around before lifting you up on the bathroom counter.

"Exactly rumors", you breathed, before he smashed his lips on yours.

Lando’s hands immediately grabbed your legs, opening them so he could stand between them. Then they went to your waist to pull you in closer.

Lando groaned at the feeling of you finally back in his arms.

His hands kept scanning over your body, squeezing your boobs which made you throw your head back and let out a deep moan.

"Been waiting to get my hands on you again for so long, baby," he breathed heavily, speaking into your skin as his fingers fumbled open the top of your blouse. His lips trailed over your exposed chest and stopped just under your collarbone, sucking the fragile skin between his lips.

"You’re saying you missed me?", you teased, trying hard to push the words out before another moan interrupted you. Lando grinned and ripped open the buttons of the white silk blouse, allowing your tits to spill out.

Lando swore he could come from that sight alone. "You're so gorgeous," he muttered, more to himself than to you, before looking back into your eyes.

His lips attacked yours again while his large hand worked your bra covered boobs.

Your eyes fluttered, feeling that all too familiar ache in your core while the large size of his palm against you, made you think of those thick, veiny fingers between your thighs.

Your hips pressed against his, feeling his hard cock against you, making you smirk.

Lando's eyes darkened as you ground yourself against him, faster, harder. His one hand tightening around your waist and his head falling forward on your shoulder.

"Admit it, darling", you whispered into his ear. You could tell me was holding back a moan, his restraint hanging by a thread, and every move you made threatened to break that thread.

You wanted to make him snap, an evil smirk brightening on your face as you moved your hips faster.

While he closed his eyes, you took the opportunity to fiddle with the metal belt around his hips, opening it along with the button and zipper of his jeans.

"Can’t wait, can you, you desperate little whore", Lando smirked, watching you push down his jeans and slide your hands inside his boxers to grab his cock.

Lando's head fell back with a groan as you started pumping his hard cock.

"Missed your hands, darling", he groaned, holding on to your waist tighter when you trailed your finger over his swollen tip before pulling your hand back, tracing them down his abdomen.

"Please, Lan", you begged, knowing your whispered words would make him weak. But he’s been playing this game just as long as you were.

His fingers slipped under the hem of your skirt, quickly stroking up to your clothed core. A heavy moan escaped your mouth.

Lando caressed the inside of your thighs while his lips traced down your neck, leaving a few marks here and there.

His finger pushed your laced thong to the side before lightly gracing your pussy, making your hips buckle into his hands. "Lan-", you moaned. An evil smirk spread on his face. "Now who’s desperate?", Lando whispered, repeating the action twice, pulling away way too quickly.

"I hate you", you breathed, throwing your head back before grabbing his wrist and holding it in place.

Lando shook his head but finally gave in and dipped the tip of his finger inside you. Your grip on his wrist tightening. "M-more", you slightly pleaded, trying your best not to sound too desperate but failing miserably.

"I’ve missed watching you react to me like this, still the very same as the first day", he said, pushing a second finger inside you to stretch you out. A high pitched moan left your throat and your hand let go of his wrist to grip the edge of the marble counter.

His lips were still traveling along your half exposed upper body, one hand pulling down your left bra cup, making your boob spill out before he took your nipple between his lips.

"Lando- I-", you moaned loudly, thanking heaven that he locked the door when he came in and gripping the counter tighter, your knuckles almost turning white.

He pulled his fingers out of you, making you whine at the feeling of emptiness, before you felt his hand trying to get your thong off. You lifted your hips a little to help him, watching as he pushed your underwear in the back pocket of his trousers.

"You should see yourself, darling", Lando smirked mockingly, his fingers being welcomed by her glistening pussy as he traced them along your slit.

"So desperate for me", he cooed, watching your eyes close and a frown forming on your forehead as you moaned.

"It’s funny how eager you are for everything I give you, baby", he chuckled humorless. "You won't call for months and now you want my cock inside of you?"

You whimpered at his words, all while he slowly inserted his finger inside you again.

"Lando- oh my- please", you continued whimpering and pleading, making Lando smirk. "What is it, baby? You're gonna have to tell me exactly what you want, you know how this works", he cooed into your ear.

He was teasing and you knew that, you have experienced it multiple times before. You didn’t want to give into him but damn his long thick fingers and how they felt inside you. You mind already playing images of him fucking you till you’re nothing but a whimpering mess.

"C’mon", Lando demanded firmly. "You've always been mouthy with me, even earlier, so why are you being quiet now, huh?"

"Lan- lando please, more", you whined, while moving your hips on his finger to get some sort of relief. "I just need more, please", you begged slightly, your eyes closed and not wanting to look at the winning smirk on Lando’s face.

"But you already have a boyfriend, mylady", Lando reminded you with an evil grin. You shook your head, the mess of your hair whipping around. "N-no", you tried to deny as he added a second finger.

"Just wanna cum, please- fuck!", you muttered as Lando curled his fingers inside you.

Lando, completely ignoring you, continued with his question. "What more could you possibly want?"

"I want your cock- so bad, just fill me up- fuck, Lando- fuck me, please- I-", you begged, your eyes tired but glistening in desperation and lust. "Jus’ wanna- want you to fuck me hard and fill- uhh- I wanna be full with you please, please Lando", at this point you didn’t even care anymore that you sounded like a desperate slut.

You’ve gone 10 months without seeing Lando in person, of course you had your fair share of fucks but you couldn’t pretend that any of them came even close to pleasuring you the way Lando was able to.

"Such a needy girl", he tsked before wiping you tears away, that you didn’t even notice had started falling down your cheeks. You clenched around Lando’s fingers, loving the way his voice sounded in your ear.

"Oh you want to cum?", Lando looked at you with a devious smile. "Do you think you deserve that?" Before you could reply, you felt his lips pressing against yours, his tongue gliding between your lips without being met with a lot of resistance.

He hummed in satisfaction, tasting the alcohol from the drink you previously had on your mouth before he pulled away, only to let his tongue trail from your lips, over your neck and down to your chest as he sucked on your skin, leaving a dark purple mark on your breast. You were too far gone to realize anything until the sudden bite of Lando's teeth on your nipple shocked you out of your daydream.

"I asked you a question, baby", Lando hummed, licking over your hardened nipple. You blinked down at him, seeing a little blurry. "W-what?"

His grin was wickedly evil as he looked up at you. "Aw, poor baby's already going cock dumb and I haven't even fucked you yet." Your cheeks heated but didn’t give you time to reply before slamming his cock inside you.

You gasped loudly, grabbing the back of his neck for leverage and letting out a strangled cry as Lando continued to fuck into you at high speed.

There was truly no one who could fill you up like he did.

The sound of his hips clashing against yours and both of your strangled moans were the only thing left to hear in the restroom. You felt your pussy clench around Lando’s cock, making him moan into your shoulder. He moved his fingers from rubbing the side of your waist to your clit, touching the already sensitive bundle of nerves and rubbing it as you cried out.

"God! Fuckin- hell- ohh!"

"I think God is the last person to help you right now, darling", Lando chuckled but got interrupted by a moan as your walls clenched around him again. You felt yourself nearing your orgasm with every rock of his hips.

"Fuck, baby you’re so tight", he moaned. "You have no idea how much I missed this tight fucking hole, perfectly clenching around my cock like this- ohh", Lando spoke in a light whisper, rubbing eight figures on your clit.

Your legs shook as you felt your orgasm approaching, your walls tightening. "Fuck, Lando, I- shit, I- I’m cumming!", you let out a breathy moan once more before clenching one last time. Your vision going blurry while your pussy kept throbbing around his cock.

"Lando, please I need-", you winced at the oversensitivity when he kept pounding into you. "Time", you breathed through a moan, gripping the back of his neck tighter as you felt another orgasm approaching. All while Lando never stopped fucking into you even when you came for a second time in a row.

The overstimulation leaving you as a sobbing mess. "Lan- lando, it’s too much! I- I can’t- fuck! 'm cumming, Lando-", you cried, tears streaming down your face, you head falling forward on his chest, not having the ability to keep it upright anymore.

"Yeah? You’re cumming again?", Lando mocked you, rocking his hips a bit slower.

"But I missed you so much, haven’t you missed me?"

"I- missed you- fuck! So much- so fucking much", you cried, your walls repeatedly clenched around his cock.

"Fuck! Lando!", you called pathetically when he started to pick up his pace again and relentlessly started hammering inside you, chasing his own orgasm.

You couldn’t do anything apart from moan, cry and clench around him, feeling another orgasm approaching as well.

"Shit- I’m so close", Lando groaned as a whisper, pulling you closer to him and placing his lips on yours. "I’m cumming- baby- I’m-", he whispered against your lips. Your body already going limp against his as you felt him filling you up with his cum.

A deep and breathy moan left his lips as he slowed down his pace. You felt the sticky liquid dropping out of you and running down the inner side of your leg.

Lando whipped it up with his finger and held it in front of your mouth. Without hesitation you took his finger inside your mouth, swirling your tongue around it and closing your eyes at the taste of his cum on your lips.

Lando gently rocked his hips again, making you whine. "Not again, Lando- please I- I need a minute", you winced, feeling way too overstimulated after cumming so many times in a row.

"Shh, baby it’s okay, just tryna fuck my cum back into you, to make sure it stays there until I can go back inside you again", he reassured you, before slowly pulling out, making you gasp and wince at the feeling of emptiness.

Exhausted you placed your head on his chest and closed your eyes while he held your waist.

"So did you find something greater in all those models’ beds?", you said with a dumbfound smirk forming on your lips, your mind still hazy while trailing your fingers over his bare chest. You felt his chest vibrating as he laughed and shook his head with a smirk. "Oh baby, I think you know exactly that nothing compares to you!"

You chuckled and lifted your head as he reached over to the paper towels and started cleaning your inner leg up a little. "What do we do now?", you asked, a hint of insecurity in your voice, as the reality of your situation came crushing down on you. "Well, I for damn hope you won’t go back to that milk boy", Lando chuckled, reaching for his belt to close his trousers again after tucking his cock away.

You stayed silent, your blouse still halfway open, your body too tired to move. Lando looked into your eyes before reaching to cover you up again. "You wanna come to mine?", he asked while closing the last button of your blouse.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Getting out of the club without Mason seeing you turned out easier than expected, however something you didn’t expect were people hanging around in front of the monegasque nightclub.

As soon as you opened the door, you already heard yours and Lando’s name being called and saw at least ten phones recording you.

Well, now Mason knows anyway, you thought while Lando grabbed your hand tighter and pulled you to his car quickly. Both of you waved a few times while passing the fans but stayed silent for the short walk. Lando opened the door for you before jogging around to get to the drivers side.

You snuggled into the seat of his familiar car, that wore his familiar scent and when Lando started up the car, he put his familiar hand on your thigh. You took a deep breath, you might be toxic but how damn good does this familiarity feel? It might just cancel the bad parts out.

Lando’s fingers drew circles on your thigh and he smirked when he noticed you opening your legs a little bit wider, an invitation to move his fingers up further.

His hand scooted up, pushing the material of your tight miniskirt away and gently tracing along your inner thighs.

"Baby careful or you’ll ruin the seat", he whispered sarcastically. He didn’t give a damn if you actually did and you knew that because this wouldn’t be the first time it happened.

"Lando-", you quietly whimpered when you felt his fingers come dangerously close to your core, still feeling the sensitivity of the multiple orgasms he had given you merely twenty minutes ago, but backed off just before touching you. "Shhh, baby", he spoke, keeping his eyes on the road while entering the tip of his finger.

Your eyes fluttered shut and you sunk down the seat a little. Without having to see, you knew Lando was smiling.

He pushed his finger further inside and immediately followed up with a second one. You quietly moaned at the pleasure.

"Already so fucking wet for me, baby", he spoke. "My good girl", he purred moving his finger faster inside you.

You moaned at his words and the way his fingers stretched you, making you see stars. "L-lando-", you whispered but got interrupted by another moan when he scissored his fingers. Your eyes shot open and you grabbed his arm tighter, your fingers most likely leaving marks on his skin.

You started moving your hips up to meet his fingers, chasing your own release in the passenger seat of Lando’s sports car.

But Lando suddenly slowed down and almost pulled his fingers out of you completely leaving you empty and whining. "L-lando - plea - ahh- please, baby", you couldn’t form proper sentences while his fingers traced your clit.

"Shh, no baby, you’re not coming until we’re home", he gently whispered, making you furrow your brows. He slid both fingers back inside you and picked his pace up again, making you gasp before an idea came to your head.

You let go of his arm and reached over the middle console and started palming the slight bulge in his trousers.

Now it was his turn to let out a surprised gasp. "You are playing a dangerous game, baby", he muttered, gripping the steering wheel tighter. You simply giggled and squeezed his clothed cock through his pants.

Lando twisted his fingers inside you, making you stop your movements and close your eyes. You hectically tried opening up his belt and trousers before sliding your hand inside his boxers, stroking over his tip that was already leaking pre cum.

"Baby-, I’m driving remember", he rasped, his finger still moving inside you but your main focus now laid on his cock in your hands. "It’s not like this is the first time", you breathed and started pumping his cock.

You could see how much he was fighting to close his eyes, which made a sadistic smirk form on your lips.

Because you were too focused on him, you didn’t see that you were already in front of Lando’s apartment.

He slid his fingers out of you and pushed your hands off him as well. "Let’s go!", he sternly said, getting out of the car and walking towards the entrance of his apartment building already, his trousers still opened.

You smirked and left the car as well, hurrying behind him. As soon as you got to the elevator, Lando reached for your hips and smashed his lips on yours again.

His hands moved to your ass and squeezed it playfully.

When you heard the familiar bling of his apartment elevator, he didn’t even look. Lando just moved you backwards out of the elevator, still kissing you. You fumbled his key out of the back pocket of his jeans and opened the door as soon as you got there.

Lando grinned and pushed you against the door to open it up completely before attacking your lips once again, kicking the door shut with his foot.

"Where you wanna go?", he muttered between kisses and moans. "Here is fine", you said breathlessly and pointed to the couch. Lando smirked, remembering what had happened on this couch, remembering catching you making out with a random dude after one of your fights.

"Was it over when he unbottoned your blouse?", Lando smirked, opening your blouse button for button, before pushing it off your body.

You smirked when you realized where he was getting at. But two could play that game, you had also caught him with a random girl on his exact couch.

"Was it over when she laid down on your couch?", you replied with the same smirk, only standing in your lace underwear and walking backwards to sit down on his couch.

Lando moved closer in only his trousers. He placed his strong arms on either side of your head and leaned down so his lips were almost touching yours.

"Was it ever really over?"

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sooniebby · 4 months

Text

Don’t ask how I thought of this… it’s trans male reader, no set character—imagine whoever you want. Bottom reader. Use of pussy, and other “feminine” words. This lowkey just self indulgent, so the reader isn’t fully transitioned 🫶🏼 don’t read if you get dysphoric easily.

You knew your friend did “sex work” on the side. And the reason why it wasn’t true “sex work” was because it was just him and his girlfriend recording themselves having sex and posting it onto Twitter.

It was just a kink for them, really, he never said anything about getting paid for it. But you remember them thinking about putting a paywall to see the full videos.

More power to them, or whatever. When you became roommates with said friend, him and his girlfriend made sure to record any videos when you were gone. Which was great.

It wasn’t until the two broke up, amicably actually, she just found out she was a lesbian—you thought his Twitter porn days were over now he didn’t have a partner. Since he didn’t like doing solo content

What you didn’t think was that he’d ask you to do something with him

“It’s just until I find someone else,” he said, nonchalantly.

“But it doesn’t give you money.”

“Oh we did make money off it. Not a lot, but decent money. Julie was gonna keep doing it with me just to keep some money but now she’s making lesbian content.”

“But girls! Wasn’t it straight porn?”

He shrugged. “It’s not like I’m straight… the viewers won’t care, pussy’s pussy!” He laughed until he saw your face. “Oh well if it makes you uncomfortable you don’t gotta do it. It is a strange request.” He moved to get up until you grabbed his hand.

“How much?”

“Huh?”

“How much do you earn from the videos?”

“Depends. The viewers love oral sex and teasing videos. Those usually get over… 2k—”

“—I’m in.”

“Seriously?”

“Cash is cash. They won’t be seeing my face right?”

“No. The focus,” he kneeled down close to you, “will be on down here.” His hand trailed against your crotch. “You just gotta lay there and be pretty, baby.”

No wonder the girls who ever dated him cried when they broke up. Who would willingly leave someone with a tongue like this?

You had told him there was no way you’d allow him to call you baby girl or anything of the sort which he happily agreed.

“Don’t worry. It won’t take long.”

“Wouldn’t want it to.” You muttered, feeling a bit embarrassed to be nude from the waist down in front of your friend. He smirked slightly grabbed his phone as he aimed it to film your crotch area.

“Don’t say that—not when you’ll end up begging for more.”

You didn’t even get to retort that as you felt his finger rub against your clit. Your breathing hitched as he was slow with his touch, teasing your outer lips. Down and up, small strokes, and a light push.

You could see why these videos got viewers—it was driving you crazy each time he teased your clit before pulling away. Your hips began flinching slightly, subconsciously trying to rub your pussy against the palm of his hand.

“Did I say you could do that?”

You instantly froze, dropping your hips right back down on the bed.

“Good boy.” He whispered, making sure the phone didn’t pick it up.

What the fuck?! That… that was for you alone, right? While you were reeling at how easily he could command you, you cried out feeling two fingers shove itself inside your hole.

His fingers moved fast, spreading you open. You didn’t even realize you weren’t hiding your whimpers as you tried to calm down from the sudden pleasure. Your legs twitched and spasmed, fingers digging into the bedsheets for some sort of stability.

But then he stopped. Just as fast as he started.

He ended the video and wiped his fingers against your thigh, smirking. “Alright, last video, then that’s it. You doing alright?”

“H…huh…?” You could only sputter out, reeling in shock.

“Starting video now.”

You glanced down, watching as he pulled out his cock from his sweatpants. Oh, he was.. a bit big. His cock flopped right against your pussy, causing you to shudder in response.

It wasn’t that you were a virgin… but fuck, you were embarrassingly excited to have his cock so close, just inches away from your hole.

“Condom?” You whispered

He didn’t answer, subtly shaking his head. You watched as he started the new video and placed his cock right against your pussy. You couldn’t look away, wanting to see if you could really take in something so thick and long.

But he didn’t.. push in?

With his free hand gripped tightly on your hips, he began rubbing his cock right against your pussy. You whimpered, biting your lip to try and keep your voice down.

You tried to rub against him but he held you down easily with his hand on your hips. It surprised you that he could do that with just one hand but you weren’t complaining.

“You want it, huh? Just look at it,” he moved the phone down to get a good look at your soaked pussy. “Never seen someone this wet for me. I’m flattered, baby.”

His hand released your hips and he suddenly stopped moving. You looked over to him, wondering why in god’s name he would stop. But all you saw was a shit eating grin. He wanted you to do the rest.

Any sort of self respect you had was gone. You just wanted to cum already.

You began to move your hips, rubbing your pussy against his cock. A few times, by pure luck, his cock threatened to push inside—but each time he’d fix his cock. Why would he let you get fucked?!

No matter, you reached down to begin rubbing your clit, needing some form of stimulation when he grabbed your wrist.

“I thought you were a good boy?” He asked, a false sense of sadness in his tone. “C’mon, be good for the camera.”

Once again, he made sure only you heard that. Why’d he keep doing? To rile you up? You’re already close anyway.

But then he stopped…? Again?!

“All done. Thanks again, man.” He patted your tummy and got up, pulling his pants over his cock. You wouldn’t deny that you felt your word shatter seeing it being covered by those stupid excuse of pants.

“That’s…?”

“I’ll send you your cut by the end of the week!”

He was leaving? After all that? He was just going to leave without fucking you? You quickly sat up on the bed and grabbed his arm, stopping him from leaving. He didn’t turn over to face you, keeping his gaze on his phone.

“Wait… that’s it..? N..nothing else?” You whispered breathlessly, needing release, quickly. And you didn’t want to rely on some plastic dildo when there was a real thing just a few inches away.

“Yeah. I just needed two videos for this month. Why?”

“I… I…”

“Begging for me?” He asked, cheekily, looking up to finally look at you. “C’mon, use your words. What do you want?”

“You know what I want.”

“Do I? Because if you don’t say it, I’ll do what I want with you.”

It didn’t take long for him to make you cum. As soon as his cock entered your pussy, you came. And then he really did what he wanted with you. You were too far gone to really think as it happened, but you were sure he took many pictures after, enjoying the sight of your cream filled pussy.

You certainly helped him again, and a few times after that…

Though… you’re starting to wonder…

You can’t find his and Julie’s twitter account…

And when you, embarrassingly, asked Julie—

She said they deleted the account when they broke up

Ooh. Spooky lol, what can I say? I love manipulative men…

Tag list: @flurrina @chill-guy-but-cooler @mello-life69 @remdayz @kiiyoooo @ofclyde @iwishtobeacrow @smellwell @tomoeroi @tehyunnie @love-kha1 @star-3214 @rhetorical-conscience

#bottom male reader #x male reader #uke male reader #oc x reader #smut drabble #mlm ns/fw #smut ideas #trans nsft #trans mlm #mlm nsft #ftm mlm

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lewisvinga · 5 months

Text

our baby | oscar piastri x fem! reader

summary; in which a few silly comments from oscar and y/n led to a big misunderstanding for fans

fc; yunjin huh

warnings; none (?)

notes; oscah

masterlist !

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris, and 903,067 others!

yourusername: winter photo dump w bae :p

tagged; oscarpiastri

oscarpiastri: i hate this.

yourusername: hello????

oscarpiastri: where is my child

oscarpiastri: OUR baby

oscarpiastri: why’d you leave baby angel out 🙁

yourusername; you drama queen, she’s like 8 weeks old she’ll be okay 🙄

username: did oscar say a CHILD??

username; my fave grid couple 🥹🥹

username: oscar’s comment??? uhm is that why y/n wasn’t in the paddock for a bit ….

username: now that’s making sense

username: mother and father ( literally )

username: i’d kill to pull off orange like y/n😩

landonorris: did u trip

yourusername: maybe 🤫

username: I SAW THEM AT ST MORITZ N OSCAR SEEMED TO BE XTRA CAREFUL W HER

username: oh u rich rich

username: maybe it’s bc that’s his gf

username: what if they fr had a baby and that’s just him being careful during her recovery 🤔

username: why would they be in st moritz after just having a baby…

username: 8 weeks = 2 months , no? baby should be fine at home w a babysitter

username: what are yall talking about… liked by yourusername!

liked by oscarpiastri, lilymhe, and 912,764 others!

yourusername: how’d osc pull me ?

oscarpiastri: with rizz ( free boba )

yourusername: real 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨

oscarpiastri: wow you are gorgeous.

yourusername: £\!£\¥~£|^ h&:&,$jdkcjskfkd

oscarpiastri: you look like our daughter in the last picture

yourusername: yeah cos i had her in my womb for 9 months and birthed her 🤰

username: WHAT

username: THEIR COMMENTS?? SHE FR HAD A DAUGHTER??

username: why haven’t they said anything abt their comments…

logansargeant: if i remember correctly there was a lot of stuttering and blushing , not from u tho

yourusername: so true

oscarpiastri: ok come on, it wasn’t that bad

logansargeant: h-h-hey y/n, h-how was y-your day!

yourusername: ya babe you were like that…

oscarpiastri: 🧍‍♂️🧍‍♂️

username: everyone talking abt possible oscar piastri jr but im focused on how good she looks 😫😫😫😩😍😍😢😢

username: it’s giving poison ivy🤩

lilymhe: WOWWWWWWW

lilymhe: you’re soooo fine 😍😍 marry me💍

yourusername: anytime bbg👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩

oscarpiastri: oh! you can’t , we have a child

lilymhe: i’ll be a stepmother 👩‍🍼👩‍🍼

alex_albon: we have our real children at home ( albon pets 😞 )

yourusername posted to their story!

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris, and 1,004,304 others!

yourusername: last photo dump of 2023 ft. our 8 week baby angel 🕊️ yes , she’s our baby daughter 👩‍🍼

tagged; oscarpiastri

oscarpiastri: angel is the cutest baby ever despite leaving fur everywhere

yourusername: she’s just a baby!

oscarpiastri: the prettiest girl, can’t believe you’re all mine

yourusername: ur mine 4ever you cant get rid of me or angel 😈😈

oscarpiastri: and i never plan to!

username: IT WAS A CAT ALL ALONG???

yourusername: not just a cat! a ragdoll kitty :p!!

username: oomf on twitter was right abt it being an inside joke 😭😭😭

username: so no baby piastri 2024?

yourusername: she is my baby piastri 😠

username: LMFAOOO IT WAS A CAT???

username: baby piastri being a cat is so on brand for y/n 😭

landonorris: my niece angel 😇 did she enjoy my gift🥰

oscarpiastri: by gift meaning a cat tower with your face on it? yes, she enjoyed scratching your face 😊

username: the kitten is so cute 🥹

username: the last picture of oscar driving w angel😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

username: the most perfect kitty for the most perfect couple 🥹🥹

#f1 scenario #formula one imagines #f1 imagine #formula one social media au #f1 smau #f1 scenarios #f1 x reader #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri smau #oscar piastri scenario

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sanjisboyfie · 6 months

Text

basketball player ! gojo satoru headcanons

gojo satoru x male reader

warning: short dialogue of homophobia (satoru deals with it swiftly though)

-> HE'S SO BABYGIRL IN THIS PHOTO.

basketball player ! satoru . . . who is even taller than canon because why would he be a professional basketball player and only 6'3 guys c'mon, bro has to be at least 6'6-6'8. but of course, he's not only gotten bigger, his ego did as well. add the fact that he's a good player...yeah, no one is safe from the cocky, lowkey-asshole basketball player gojo satoru. (except for you !!! because he acts like a complete and total sweetheart to you).

basketball player ! satoru . . . being so shamelessly and publically infatuated with you, his lovely, lovely, lovely boyfriend. he is always on top of you anywhere in public, makes sure you're always courtside, he needs to make sure his baby can see him.

during satoru's matches, he's always focused in. he doesn't really look at you that much and you do understand. he's trying to win, he hates losing. so he gives everything for his team to be the ones on top.

his tall figure moves cleanly across the court, making his team win more than 50% of the time. and when he scores that winning shot, he's running over to you first.

he's bulldozing through the people that are running to him because he can give less of a shit about them. his piercing blue eyes are focused in on you and only you. how your eyes are teary from how proud you are of him for making the winning shot, how high your cheeks are from that charming smile, and how your arms are already open and expectingly waiting for him.

he powers through the crowd and takes you into his arms, grinning into the skin of your neck before pulling away and proudly kissing you in front of everything and all the cameras.

the crowd loves it, the deafening screams from the stands are enough to show for that. they love how openly in love satoru is with you, how completely smitten he is.

his arms are bound around your waist and he's easily hold you up in his arms as he spins the two of you around. you're in your own world as you laugh at his antics and hold on tight to his sweaty torso to not lose balance.

"i love you, sweet boy," he whispers into your ear, looking at the cameras that are all around him with nothing but pure euphoria in his eyes. "i love you so much, couldn't have done it without you. it's all for you, all of it,"

the world can't hear him, but they can read his lips. and twitter falls in love with that moment and use it to set their expectations and standards even higher than they already were.

shoutout gojo satoru for being so obviously in love with you.

basketball player ! satoru . . . who is always photographed beside you. if this man ever comes out of his home, it's only because you're also leaving your shared home and he cannot be alone for the life of him (plus, he just wants to be near his boyfriend all the time). the fans love you guys so much because of how lovey-dovey satoru gets with you, and only you. they've never seen him be so soft for anyone else.

satoru was draped over your back, craning his head down so that his face near yours. with your drastic height difference, it definitely made some passerbys look at you two with wide eyes.

an abnormally tall man trying to shrink himself down to the height of his boyfriend. satoru's arms were hanging in front of your torso, holding your shopping bags in his slender fingers with ease.

he was giggling in your ear, watching the tiktok that was playing from your phone. it was a silly comedy video, pressing his finger to the screen to open up the comments.

and then when it was finally your turn to order your drink at the cafe, he took the phone from you and continued on watching as you ordered. you rolled your eyes at his antics, muttering under your breath about how he was just a big, ipad man-baby.

the woman at the counter took your order as calmly as she could, recognizing you and the towering figure behind you. after ordering, you wordlessly took satoru's wallet out from the bag he was holding and dropped a hefty tip into the tip jar.

after pocketing his wallet back into your pocket, you had to physically drag him from where he was standing because he was so immersed in the tiktoks on your fyp that he didn't realize that you were done ordering.

as you waited by the counter, you took note of how there was now a swarm of papparazzi crowding around the exit of the humble cafe you two were in.

taking note of the mass amounts of people, satoru looked at you with a softness he only uses with you, "do you want me to call the guys? they can clear them up for us before we leave,"

you hummed, thinking about it before nodding, "yeah, these people didn't ask for those annoying cameras to be flashing through the window like that. it's so fucking rude," satoru nodded in agreement, taking out his own phone (which looked like a toy in his huge hands) and exchanged some words with his own team of security.

by the time your coffee was finished brewing and served to you, the papparazzi were being held off by a chain of bodyguards and being held at bay so that you two could peacefully leave the cafe.

the next day, pictures of you two leaving were trending on all social media. satoru's hand was around your shoulders in all of the photos, his hand around your shoulder was protectively blocking the side of your face that was being bombarded by the blinding flashes. a scowl was on his face as he walked through the crowd to your car. he opened the door for you first, walking around the front of the expensive vehicle and flipping the cameras off one last time before getting into the driver's side and speeding off.

"i was in the cafe, trying not to freakk out beacuse oh my god gojo satoru and [name] [last name] were right in front of me. and i swear the moment gojo noticed that he was uncomfortable with the people, he called his team or whatever to get all the paps out!!"

"they're so cute, do you see how gojo is holding him so close??? ughh literally goals!"

"seeing what gojo is like on and off court is crazy, thanks [name] for showing us his soft side <3"

basketball player ! satoru . . . uses every chance he gets to talk about you when he does press conferences or interviews. lovingly calls you his "baby," "hubby," or, "handsome boy."

basketball player ! satoru . . . god forbid someone say some sneaky shit to him about his relationship with you aka his sexuality. if someone tries anything with a backhanded comment about satoru's relationship with you, they will be dealt with swiftly and colorfully (as in, he will be cursing them out with zero remorse and no hesitation). because foh with that homophobic shit, satoru has no patience for that.

"so how have you and the mister been doing, gojo? you're nearly hitting the three year mark!" a very enthusiastic reporter asked, a wide grin on their face.

and satoru felt his lips tug up in a grin at the mention of you, holding the mic carefully as he spoke, "we're doing great, yeah, uhm, we got another cat - even though i told him i wanted a dog. it's a cute addition to our little family."

his response made the reporter only more giddy, going on to ask another question regarding your homey life together, before they were cut off by a rude person in the crowd shouting, "how does it feel to be acting like a fucking bitch dating another dude?! top paid player gojo satoru takes it up the ass!? you're fucking disgusting!"

satoru's eyebrows lifted in surprise at the audacity of the person, his blue eyes scanning the crowd for who was responsible for screaming that.

"sorry, whoever that was, could you just stand up?" he asked into the mic, his once cheerful and laid back tone turning into an intimidating rumble, "c'mon, don't be a pussy, where the fuck are you?"

the security grabbed ahold of the guy and satoru visibly blanched at the sight of him.

"say that shit again to my face, let's hear it," satoru goaded the man, who was now sweating bullets. "oh, don't give me that look! do you really think i'd let you say that shit without any consequences?" a sarcastic laugh left satoru's lips, "look into all these cameras, man, you're fucking ruined. no one wants a homophobic, ugly dude representing them and their company. no, because did you really think i'd let you disrespect my man like that?"

there was a hanging silence in the room as satoru glared at the man.

"don't even think about speaking about my relationship with [name] ever again. or else, you're really fucking dead. it's not a threat, it's a promise. i'll bash your head in," satoru said, slamming the mic onto the table and walking out of the grand conference room. he didn't even flinch at the flashes of the cameras, calmly putting his signature sunglasses down to block out the blinding lights.

that day, the only thing that calmed him down was holding you in his arms. his manager had called you to the greenroom since he was giving everyone a bad attitude, unintentionally, and borderline throwing a tantrum.

when he finally got you in his hold again, he apologized for his behavior earlier.

"don't apologize to me, apologize to your team who had to deal with your bullshit before i came," you lightly scolded him, running your hand through his soft locks. "are you feeling better, though?"

"better now that you're here," he squeezed around your waist, burying his head into your neck, "much better, thank you, baby,"

basketball player ! satoru . . . has his entire social media feed just be pictures of you and what you two do together. whether it's your latest, impromptu trip to hawaii or just a picture of you two cuddling in bed, you're all over his feed. his social media just screams how in love with you he is. his fucking profile picture is of you two cuddling in bed with his jersey very subtly seen as the only thing you're wearing. before that, it was just a picture of him and you kissing that he took when you went on your anniversary trip last year. his bio is the team he plays for, his jersey number, and then a white heart next to your username as he blatantly tags you in his bio. underneath that there might be a, "happily married" with the ring emoji next to it even though you two aren't even married yet.

basketball player ! satoru . . . who would spoil you rotten with everything you ever want. why would he have all this money if not to spoil you??? he just wants to make you happy with anything he can provide, and if part of that is him dropping bands on top of bands on whatever it is you want, then so be it. he doesn't care. he's willing to spend however much he needs to keep you happy and content.

satoru's win had encouraged him to treat YOU out to a mall trip .... even though he was the one who should have been celebrated and treated out since he was the winner.

he cheesily denies that offer by saying, "i'm only a winner because i have you, baby boy, c'mon let me treat you," and then he playfully bites the lobe of your ear to distract you from teh mass amounts of money he is going to spend on you.

that day, you walk out of the mall with a whole bunch of bags (gucci, burberry, dior, prada, etc.etc.) that he's easily holding in his large hands. people notice that there is a new chain around your neck with a cute "g" and "s" charm hanging from it, refracting every bit of light that gets caught in its surface with how blinding the diamonds are. he has a matching one as well, with your initials, which he proudly shows the cameras of the papparazzi as they soon swarm you guys. then he's flipping them off again.

you and basketball player ! satoru are a power couple that the media and fans love. any homophobic comment that reaches satoru's ears are called out and dealt with by his sharp tongue and scary, blue eyes glaring at whoever was dishing out those comments. he's a complete softy for you too and he is NOT one to shy away from that, loves showing off how happy he is with you and ONLY you.

also last bit before i go: he definitely has two photos of you in his wallet. one of them is a cute polaroid you guys took at his family's house for xmas the other is..............promiscuious.

-> next, drabble <3

#jjk male reader #jujutsu kaisen male reader #jjk x male reader #jujutsu kaisen x male reader #gojo satoru male reader #satoru male reader #gojo satoru x male reader #satoru x male reader #satoru reader #gojo x male reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru imagines #satoru imagines #satoru headcanons #gojo satoru headcanons #male reader

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neowinestainedress · 8 months

Text

SECRET — lee jeno

𝐓𝐈𝐓𝐋𝐄: secret

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: lee jeno x fem!reader

𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄: smut, fluff (at the end), established relationship, kink discovery, relationship development

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: jeno has a secret he can’t tell anybody, not even you.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆: sub!jeno, dom!reader (it’s their first time reversing roles so they’re both exploring how it feels like), implied masturb*tion, n!pple play, kinda hand-free org*sm/coming untouched, an*l fingering, riding, overstimulation, praise kink, minor degradation, size kink (but reversed??? reader is not bigger than jeno but somehow jeno feels small and likes to feel like that), ch*king, names used for jeno (baby boy, good boy, pup/puppy, pretty boy), names used for reader (ma’am, miss, mommy), big d!ck jeno, there’s nothing wrong with being a sub but jeno has issues because he has to always be strong so it doesn’t feel right for him, count the times I say ‘please’ in this (not my fault jeno is the bestest boy ever), aftercare (and kink discussion)

𝐖𝐂: 10.202k

𝐀/𝐍: a gift for my love @yellowgirllsblog, I converted her to subjenoism so I’m on a mission to let more of you see the light of the day and appreciate sub!jeno more. ps: you will never catch me call twitter ‘x.’ enjoy and if you do, please reblog and leave feedback! love u!

Jeno has a secret.

Once you’ll find out what it is, it won’t seem a big deal, but to him, it is.

It’s so big, so stressful, and so shameful, he can’t even talk to you — his sweet, loving girlfriend — about it.

It’s stupid, really. Deep down Jeno is well aware of how dumb it all sounds, but every time he faces it, it looks like a big mountain he can’t climb — and that will probably crumble on top of him, smashing him on the ground.

Stupid or not, big or small, it haunts him every day. Yes, every day. At first, Jeno thought it was just a temporary thing, something that piqued at his curiosity for fun, but soon enough, he fell down the rabbit hole. Looking back at it now, he probably was buried deep in the rabbit hole since forever but he —and the perception others had of him— did a good job at polishing the place real nice and don’t make him realize where he was.

Jeno accepted he is far gone a while ago, but he still can’t wrap his head around it. How is that possible? How could he, out of all the people, like something like this, be like this.

And that’s why he keeps it to himself, praying that if he doesn’t act on it, if he pushes it out of his mind, it will just leave. He’s strong, and fit, and he pounds into you every night, giving it to you like you want it. He can’t be anything else other than this, nothing but a confident, strong man that can’t be vulnerable.

But it turns out that pushing it out of his mind is not as easy as it seems. Jeno might be weaker than he realizes when he keeps going back at it, sipping on it at small doses, almost as if whatever he is holding in it’s a drug he doesn’t want to get addicted to — not knowing he already is. But for now — and forever, he thinks — this is just a fantasy, he can’t get addicted to something that is not real, to a version of him, no matter how authentic it feels, that can’t come out. But he slips further every day, hiding in your shared bedroom with his laptop or phone when you’re at work and he can have a bit of time to himself, when he stares at the box with your toys and lets time pass by because he doesn’t dare to do the next step, and lastly when he fucks his fist with your used panties and calls your name… or well, how he wishes he could call you.

And then clarity hits him again, making him groan as he rushes to the bathroom on wobbly legs, throwing your stained panties inside and starting the washing machine while he questions himself; why? He feels pathetic; masturbating over you as if he needs to fantasize about you, as if he doesn’t have you every night, and every day, and yet, it’s still not enough, it’s not how he wants you. But he feels guilty, he feels like he won’t be enough if he confessed to you, if he let you know his secret. And most of all, he’s terrified he’ll lose you. This version of him is not the one you picked, is not the one you love. And he’d damn himself forever if he lost you for something so silly.

So, he sighs, takes a deep breath, and then exhales deeply, rubbing his teary eyes before pushing his tired body up from the wall to walk back to your bedroom and fix himself.

Jeno has a secret, and he will take it to his grave.

Your boyfriend has been acting strange for a while now. At first, you figured he was stressed because of work, but now, you don’t think that’s the only reason.

Your brain goes crazy, imagining the worst-case scenario, the top one: he wants to break up with you. So, you start acting strange, too. Panicking, over-analyzing everything, and mostly, bracing yourself for the worst. Every time he starts talking to you with a serious tone, you fear that those words will come out of his lips, especially when before starting the conversation he stares at you for minutes and thinks so loudly you can almost hear his thoughts.

But the worst never comes, this goes on for weeks, and even if your boyfriend does act strange, nothing of his weirdness leads to a breakup, literally nothing can make it plausible, and even your brain gives up keeping you up at night with the fear of you losing him.

Jeno has never been so touchy. His hands are always on your body, any excuse is valid to let his fingers wander on your skin; if he needs to help you pick up something, if he needs to reach for the remote, if he has to leave for work, anything as long as he gets to feel your warm body.

And that doesn’t shock you much, Jeno has always made it clear how much he finds you attractive and how obsessed and in love he is with you and your body, but well, not like this. His fingers seem almost fearful, and so are his lips when he kisses you, and even something about his eyes doesn’t seem quite right. And then there are those unsaid words that you can see pending from his lips, and yet, they never come out. Every phrase Jeno starts is followed by a stutter and a quick shake of the head, other times his cheeks turn bright red as he zones out and you have to shake him out of whatever he is thinking, and then he goes back to act though and shrug it all off as if nothing happened.

You don’t get it, and every time you try to ask if something’s wrong, he acts surprised and tells you everything’s alright. You don’t buy it, but you feel that if something’s annoying him, he will come talk to you when he’s ready, so you leave him alone.

Jeno has a secret, and you have to find out in a way you don’t like.

You don’t like to roam around and stick your nose in things that aren’t yours, honestly, you hate doing so because you would hate if somebody did that with your things.

But you’re bored, laying on your bed, waiting for Jeno to come out of the shower, and your phone is somewhere in the living room, and you’re bored.

Picking up his phone to play some games is not an invasion of privacy, it’s the only thing you do with his phone, and Jeno is fine with it — he even lets you download those ugly, ads-filled, games that pop up in ads of other annoying games, he doesn’t get them, he hates the graphic of most of them, and he doesn’t understand how you can survive so many ads, but it’s fine, anything that makes you happy because you saved the King from drowning, cleaned a hotel room or built a pretty land.

You would’ve minded your business if it wasn’t for one of those stupid games and ads, causing the app to crash and make you huff.

You’re pissed as you click the left bottom on the bottom of his screen to see all the apps and go back to your game, hoping it won’t die again, you’re so caught up that you almost miss the other window of Twitter and some other apps he used before.

But well, what you see is too shocking to make you go back to the business of your hotel.

You freeze, and a lump forms in your throat as you blink speechless with your mouth wide open. You feel the world could collapse under your feet but then you shake your head.

Dumb asshole, it’s fine. He might be bisexual, he’s not using you as a beard, right?

But you still stare at the video in shock, the only focus is on the naked man with a choker, moaning while the vibrator edges him, and the playful touches on his nipples make his hips rut.

And when Jeno comes out of the shower you’re still dumbfounded. Your eyes look up, and his smile drops as soon as he sees your face, it looks as if you saw a ghost, and he fears something has happened to you, but he barely manages to let out ‘are you ok?’ before you stop him.

“Are you gay?” You ask, nothing of the more rational questions you came up with before passing your lips.

He giggles nervously, eyes skimming you. “What?

You feel a lump in your throat and then reply. “What is this?” you lift the phone, video playing on mute, you can’t bear to hear the moans again. “Why are you watching porn and why are you watching porn focused on men? If you want to try something out you can tell me, but please, tell me I’m not your bearding girlfriend and this wasn’t all a lie.”

“A lie?” Jeno screams, feeling his heart pump hard in his chest. “It’s not and I’m not gay, I might be bi, but I never wanted to question much about it but... Wait, would it make you love me less?”

“No, God, no, but I don’t understand this,” you squeak, voice breaking a bit for the confusion you feel and also because his face dropped even more.

“It’s nothing,” Jeno says, abruptly taking the phone from your hand and closing the tab. His hands are shaking, he can’t believe he’s so fucking stupid, how could he not think about it? He always makes sure to close everything so that you can’t find out.

“Nothing?” You ask, eyes wide and a bit of sarcasm in your tone. “Why are you watching that kind of video...”

“I — I... It’s just something dumb the boys sent me,” he justifies, scratching his neck, but his eyes are everywhere except on yours.

You would believe him if only he wasn’t so evasive with his answers and body language, he’s a nerve wreck, he has to be hiding something. “Is it? Why would they do it?”

“I don’t know, you know they’re dumb,” he says and then pauses, biting his lips nervously before he gathers the courage to speak. “Did you watch it?”

You furrow, mumbling for a few seconds before replying as if it was obvious. “Yes.”

“All?”

“Yes, it’s not that long,” you reply without getting where he wants to go with these questions.

Jeno nods and bites his lips, strategically avoiding your gaze.

“Jeno...” You call and he hesitantly raises his face. “Are you sure you’re not lying to me? If you like men and only them it’s fine, I would be heartbroken, but I want you to be happy, and I —”

“Stop it! It’s not that,” he snaps, face burning red when your eyes meet and you’re looking at him with curiosity. He feels doomed, you don’t even get it so how can you be into it?

“Oh.” You gasp. “Oh.” It clicks. Your mind replays the video, catching the details you missed, and you get it. He wants those things to be done to him. He doesn’t want a man; he wants you to do that to him.

Jeno stills, fearing the worst from you. “I’m not into it, that video just came up and I was curious,” he tries to save himself but it’s too late.

“No,” you stop him, “you are into it. Don’t lie to me,” your tone drops a bit, and you study his reaction, he trembles, and his face reddens even more. You’ve never seen him so embarrassed and vulnerable in all those years you’ve dated. Jeno, Lee Jeno, blushing bright red and stammering on his words right in front of your eyes. You’re dreaming, that must be it, maybe you have a fantasy you’re not aware of yet and this is your brain poking the thought into you.

But you shake your head, rub your eyes, and he’s still there.

“Jeno?” You call his name again when he gives you his back, quickly trying to find his clothes and make this less embarrassing, considering the only thing covering him is the white towel he put on before. “Look at me,” your voice comes out stern when he doesn’t listen to you and with a big step forward you have him trapped against the wall. Your fingers reach his chin, lifting his face resolutely.

But Jeno still doesn’t reply; you see his Adam’s apple move in his neck and you feel his breath get discontinued, but nothing comes from his mouth.

You have two choices; play the game he wants you to play or have a serious conversation about this. You’d rather go for the last one, you’re not so sure you’d be a master at doing what he wants you to do, but it seems like there’s no room for a decent talk right now.

You cup his chin, squeezing it enough that his lips pout, something he always does to you. His eyes widen, and his hand immediately wraps around your wrist, yet he doesn’t try to push you away.

“Tell me, Nono,” you coo, voice low and teasing, “do you want to be teased like that?”

He shakes his head, quick movements causing some still damp strands of hair to fall on his eyes, “No, no, I don’t.”

You scoff, shaking your head before leaning closer. “Why are you lying to me?”

He mumbles, struggling to talk for the embarrassment and the hold you have on his face. “I’m not,” he cries out.

“Oh, really?” You ask, letting his face go, making him lose his balance now that he can’t hold onto you. “Then you have nothing to hide, right?” He nods, biting his thumb and looking at you like a dog with his tail between his legs. “So, I guess you won’t mind if I took your phone right now, right?”

His eyes widen and his thumb falls from his lips. “Bu-but wh-why?”

You burst out laughing, holding your stomach in an exaggerated mocking move. “Bu-but wh-why?” you taunt him, imitating his high-pitched trembling voice. “Phone, now.”

Jeno’s not sure how to feel. This is what he wanted, right? And you don’t seem… mad. So why does he feel so embarrassed as he grabs the phone and hands it to you?

You smile and then open Twitter. You notice he has two accounts and when you scroll through the likes, the retweets, and more, you’re speechless. Well, now that you have him in front of you, so pliant, shaking, and red in the face, it’s not surprising anymore, but the Jeno you’re used to is not like this.

Men tied up and edged until they whimper and beg to come, rough face sitting, pegging videos, and captions about ‘good boys’ being used as sex toys by their ‘dominant mommy’, are all you see. You sigh and throw the phone on the bed carelessly.

“I’m sorry,” Jeno cries out, falling on his knees right in front of you. “I didn’t mean to disappoint you. I don’t need that, I swear I don’t, I can still be your usual boyfriend, I’ll fuck you so good, I promise I —”

You shut him up with a kiss, it’s rough and quick, enough to leave him surprised and, momentary, speechless. “Will you stop mumbling no-sense?”

“But I —”

“No, shh,” you say, thumb on his lips to keep him quiet. “Did I say anything? Did I look disappointed?” You ask, tilting your head to the side and he shakes his head. Honestly, he has no idea, he was too worried panicking to actually pay attention to your reaction. “Did I ask you to apologize? Do I look disgusted to you?”

“N-no,” he mumbles, but his eyes are still leaking tears.

“No, exactly,” you reassure. Your hand moves to the back of his neck, wrapping around the long hair at the nape before tugging and yanking his head back. “Now can we be serious and face this or do you want to keep crying at my feet?”

That shouldn’t make his dick twitch in the — now incredibly tight —towel but it does, still, he hopes you didn’t catch it, and nods swiftly.

“Good,” you smile slyly. You saw it, but that’s something you’re going to deal with later. “Stop lying and be honest with me. Do you want me to do this to you?” Your other hand moves down on his neck, creeping on his toned chest until it reaches his hard nipples, and when you brush one, he whimpers. Jeno tries to hide it, closing his eyes and pressing his lips together, but his body is reacting on its own, and it has never been more of an open book.

You never paid his body much attention, always letting him do anything to you, so this is… new, and interesting.

Your fingers play with the other one, rubbing against the sensitive tip and watching him struggle to keep it all in. “Sensitive much, aren’t you?”

He nods quickly, head falling down but you tug it back again, making him groan lowly.

“Head up,” you order, leaning down to come face to face, breath fanning against his, “and answer me. Do you like it when I play with your nipples?”

“Yeah — yeah, I like it,” he breathes out, leaning in to kiss your lips but you pull away.

“Ah, ah,” you click your tongue, shaking your head, “not yet, baby boy. You’ve been naughty, keeping important things from me. So now you’re going to earn it, alright?”

Jeno nods faster than he would want to, hips shaking on his heels in excitement like a dog wagging his tail.

You think it’s cute, he’s cute. And you still don’t quite know how to do this, how to be on the other side, but something inside of you makes you feel confident enough to think it’s worth giving a try. You like to be on the receiving end, so you have to give him what you usually like to receive. Also, you’ve encountered femdom content before, even liked it, never explored it much, but this might be fun.

“Words.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

You raise a brow at the title, but you like the way it rolls from his lips, and it makes your body react, pussy clenching around nothing and stomach twisting in anticipation.

“Good boy,” you reward him. You love being called a good girl, so you think he’s going to like that too, and he does. His smile grows bigger, cheeks tinting red again, and most importantly, his dick reacts, twitching against the towel.

You think it’s time to set it free, so your hand grabs the hem and pulls the white clothes off him. Jeno whimpers, hands quickly going to cover his hard, throbbing dick — well, trying to, it’s too big to hide anything.

You laugh at his lame attempt, slapping his hands away. “Getting shy now? I’ve seen it and felt it countless times, don’t you agree? Or, I don’t know, have you forgotten? Maybe your brain stops working when you’re… like this,” you finish with a teasing look from his head to his bent knees, rubbing against the hard floor and becoming red.

Jeno shivers, shaking his head, but for some reason, he feels even more embarrassed. He’s not used to being in this position, and all the times he imagined to be here, he didn’t think you would be like this. You’re not much shorter than him, but you are, and now you’re towering over him, your gaze is piercing through his soul, and your voice is sultry like it has never been. He wanted this so badly but even if he fantasized for months, now, he doubts he can take you.

You sigh, rolling your head. “How many times do I have to say it? Words.”

Jeno frowns momentarily, he knows you’re having a ball because usually, he wants you to talk back to him even if he’s fucking the fourth orgasm out of you. But his ‘anger’ doesn’t last. He nods, and then apologizes. “Sorry, I’m so sorry, ma’am. You can see it.”

“Of course, I can,” you say, kneeling to his eye level, “it’s mine.” Two of your fingers brush on his hard cock, tracing the thick vein that run on the side, the one that rub your sensitive walls so good when he’s pounding into you.

He nods quickly, swallowing hard to don’t moan shamelessly, and then stutters on his words. “You-yours. You can do — do whatever you want.”

You smile widely and tilt your head because it’s not a dominant smile. You might like this a lot. You might like this more than you anticipated. There’s something thrilling about having him like this, in your hands, to play with, to tease, to edge, to push to the limit. He’s yours, like always, and yet, in a way he has never been.

“Tell me what you want me to do?” You order, those videos are not enough to give you the green light. You need to hear it from him, a bit because you’re lost on your path, but also because you need to hear him describe those things out loud and beg you to do that to him.

Jeno thinks his face might burn up in a second. Sure, if he ever dared to bring this up to you in a conversation, he would’ve had to explain it to you, but he would’ve been dressed, not hard, and his brain would’ve been functioning. Now he’s none of these things. Yet, he tries.

“I — I want you,” he starts, wetting his lips. but he fails to find the words. You want explicit things, he knows it, he can see it in your eyes burning up with desire, but he wants to be honest first, at least now that he has a bit of rationality left. “I want to be your good boy. I want to — to just give up control for once and let you do everything. I want you to control me, to move me around, to make me feel light, to make me feel like I’m… nothing but not really nothing, I want to…” he gulps, forcing himself to keep eye contact because he wants to be good, but it’s not easy. Nothing happened yet, and he’s already a victim of the electricity that’s running in the air. “I want to don’t think. I want you to fuck my brain out until I forget who I am, I want you to tell me what to do, to order it to me. But I also want to feel safe… taken care of.”

It takes you a while to metabolize everything he told you, especially the last part, and you put a reminder in your brain to discuss that later. But now you kiss him, finally giving him what he craves. You wanted to make him wait a bit longer, but you feel like he needs it. It seems that all of this has been bothering him more than you think, and he needs comfort.

“And I’m going to give it to you, if you trust me,” you say when you pull away, softly caressing his cheek with your other hand.

“I do, I trust you,” he replies, hips rubbing against your hand. You give him a quick, stern look and he stops, smile dropping.

“Get on the bed and you won’t have to hump my hand like a puppy in heat,” you order and he’s quickly — stumbling and almost falling — on his feet, walking to the bed.

Once he’s laying on the bed, you follow him, crawling on top of him, your legs trapping him down. You leave kisses on his neck, and as a response his head rolls back, leaving you more room to paint his skin with bites and kisses. And while he’s distracted with that, your hands reach his nipples. His hips buck up and he whimpers.

He’s so sensitive, you can’t believe you didn’t discover this before.

Your fingers play with his sensitive buds, at first, you just rub your fingers on them, but then you get more adventurous studying his reaction. Jeno likes it when you pinch them between two fingers, it makes him hiss and moan, while his hips grind against you. He also likes it when you roll them, low curses escaping his tortured pink lips.

After a while, you decide to pay attention to his whole chest. You won’t lie, you always loved his tits, but you appreciated them from afar, when they were wrapped under the skintight white shirt he loves to wear, or when they played hide and seek under his loose tank tops. When he fucks you, your hands always wander somewhere else, busy trying to hold onto his arms and back for dear life. But now, your hands caress his skin, cupping them as you try to hide a giggle and stay in your role — you definitely need to work on your dominance — and tease his nipples every now and then.

“Fuck,” Jeno bites his tongue, dick rutting against your body, droplets of white shamelessly dripping from his head, staining his length and abs.

“You’re so sensitive it’s almost pathetic,” you try out, testing the waters. You fear you might trigger him, but instead, he moans louder at your words, throwing his head back more, and his dick throbs. “I’m barely touching you and you’re already a mess. You dreamed this so long, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he whimpers, his hips still grinding against you, desperately chasing for release, but you pull away. “No, please,” his voice breaks and tears swell at the corner of his eyes. Jeno is so fucking pretty like this, you have to fight back the urge to reach for the phone and snap a picture.

“Just relax, and focus on the parts I’m touching,” you say, kissing him to shut his whines down. “Let me take care of you.”

And he would, he does, he wants you to take care of him. If only this wasn’t so embarrassing, whimpering and squirming just from having his nipples played with. He wants to hold it in, he can push back an orgasm, but all his good intentions fly out of the window when your mouth wraps around the left sensitive one and your fingers pinch and twist the other one.

It’s not his fault he’s so sensitive.

“Oh God,” he cries out through gritted teeth, knuckles going white for how hard his hands are clenching around the sheets. Jeno feels dizzy, your mouth sucks harshly on his sensitive spot, quickly moving from one side to the other, never leaving him with no stimulation, your fingers are just as swift at taking the place your lips left. “Please, please, fuck,” he begs, hips stuttering messily, and legs parting as his body jerks with pleasure.

“Be a good boy and come for me,” you mumble against his skin, eyes looking up at his. And that’s the last drop for him; the realization that you saw him — and made him — this weak, even the slight humiliation he feels with it.

Jeno comes undone. Long, whiny moans and whimpers slurring out of his plump lips as his body stills before breaking into violent trembles, it’s powerful and overwhelming, and it makes him cry. Mumbles of your name follow when you don’t stop, fingers and tongue moving quickly on his nipples.

“Please, please, stop,” he cries, trying to push you away, “can’t take it anymore.”

You pull away, snickering as you watch the cum drip down his body. His chest is heaving, and his body is slumped against the headboard.

“Was it good?”

Jeno nods, his movements are slow, and his eyelids are almost close, but he still makes out your face, and smiles shyly. “More,” he begs and then adds, “please. If you want to.”

You smile, he’s so polite. “Are you sure you can take more?”

“Yes, yes, I just — I needed to calm down,” he explains, running a hand through his hair that covered his eyes messily.

“Lay on the bed,” you order before standing up.

He follows your order, feeling his body ache as he gets in position, but it all fades in the background when his gaze falls on your body, watching you move to throw your clothes on the floor.

“So,” you’re on top of him, you got rid of your skirt and top, the only clothes on your body are your — drenched — panties and the bra, “what do you want me to do with you?”

Jeno thought the embarrassing part had passed, but, lord, if he was wrong. Because he’s not prepared in the slightest to ask you what he’s about to ask. You will break up with him, this will be the last straw.

“Pup?” Your voice brings him out of his delirium, and he coughs. “You with me?”

He nods, struggling to find the words. “Please,” he whines, “don’t — don’t leave me.”

“Leave you?” You ask, a small frown forms on your forehead while your head lightly bends to the side to look at him. You almost look so innocent and harmless like this, but you’re not. You have all the power and control, and Jeno loves this and hates this at the same time. Maybe all of this is more mental than what he thought in the first place, or maybe he needs to relax, stop worrying so much, and just beg you. Beg you to fuck him, beg you to turn him into a brainless mess in the same way he had done in these past few months: pleading with his face smashed against a pillow to muffle his pathetic moans and his fist wrapped around his cock or his fingers inside of him, fooling himself that was you doing that to him.

“Please, fuck me,” he breaks, eyes panicking and looking around the room before you grab his face with a strong old on his chin.

“Say it again,” you order. Your face is relaxed now and the pout on your lips is rapidly swiped away by a sly smirk.

“Please, please, fuck me, ma’am?” He asks, eyes softening as he looks into yours. He’s such a good boy, so obedient, so, so good. So, you’re about to give him what he wants, and what you want, grabbing the base of his hardening dick and teasing it against your pussy, moving the crotch of the panties to the side, but he surprises you.

“No,” Jeno cries, voice breaking again, “not like this. Not now.”

You stop, stilling and looking at him, eyes blinking as you try to understand what he means. “Not like this? And how do you want me to fuck you?”

“I — I,” he stutters, flashes of warmth heating his body up again, not that it ever really stopped, to be honest, it just keeps getting worse.

“You — you?” You urge, mocking him, mimicking his voice with a condescending tone.

He frowns offended — and his dick throbs, but he won’t pay attention to that — but then goes on. “I want your — your fingers.”

“Oh,” you say, a smug grin on your face. “A handjob?” You know what he wants, you know where he wants it, but what you want, is to mess up with him.

“No, no,” he whines, shaking his head, reaching for your hand with his before you slap it away, making him groan in annoyance. “Please.”

“Please and no, are those the words that a good pup says?”

“No, miss, I’m sorry.”

“Good, then use your big boy words and tell me what you want. Details, or I won’t give it to you.”

Jeno swallows, inhaling deeply before confessing. “I want your fingers in my ass, please. I want you to fuck me with your fingers, miss.”

“Oh, now that’s clear,” you say, smiling tenderly and patting his head. He melts under your touch, and you keep a reminder to yourself to head pat him more often. “Good boy, telling me exactly what he needs.”

You get up to grab the lube from the drawer but when you open it, it’s not there. You scowl, scratching your head as you try to remember if you finished it and didn’t buy it again, but you don’t use it that often, so it can’t be.

“Where the hell —” you stop when, turning around, you see the blue bottle peeking from under the bed, you kneel to grab it and see that it’s badly closed. “You fucked yourself before?” You enquire, tilting your head, watching his face flush bright red even more, he tries to avoid your gaze, but you trot to him and force his face on you. “You were so desperate you couldn’t help but fuck yourself with your fingers?”

“I’m — I’m sorry, miss, I didn’t mean to,” he justifies, throat dry and heart beating fast. He doesn’t want to disappoint you, he would’ve waited, he wouldn’t have done that, but he needed that, he was terrible at putting this fantasy behind and he needed a release. But he’s still you’re good boy, right? You’re not mad at him for this?

You scoff, clicking your tongue, crawling on the bed. “You didn’t mean to, sure… fucking yourself behind my back, pff,” you scoff. “Tell me, were you thinking of me? My fingers deep inside of you? My hand wrapped around the base of your cock?” Jeno nods eagerly as you pour lube on your fingertips. “Were you calling my name? Whimpering like the desperate puppy that you are? Calling me ma’am and miss, maybe even mommy when you fuck yourself good enough,” all throughout the talk your fingers slip deep inside of him, making him gasp and hold onto the sheets under him.

“Fuck,” he curses, not expecting you to push two fingers inside with no warning. But the surprise turns into bliss in the beat of an eye. Your fingers are slender, and yes, they’re not as long and thick as his are, but they are yours. And you’re so good at moving them inside of him, curling them up, moving them with a firm rhythm, reaching the bottom, and then pulling out, that he has nothing to complain about. “Feels so good,” he somehow manages to let you know. You think it’s cute, his voice doesn’t sound like the usual, it’s whiny, trembling, and full of desperation. His eyes are watery, and you think the red on his cheeks won’t disappear soon.

Jeno is lost in the pleasure, thinking he has never felt better, he’s almost relaxed, lulling in the sensation that sends sparks down his spine. But you want to give him more and your other hand folds his balls, making him hiss and shaking him out of that haze.

“It’s alright, baby boy,” you reassure him, but he’s not sure. Especially when you spit on his dick, adding to the mess of his cum, and run your hand on his length. He wishes you would keep doing this, but instead, you torture him; while your fingers work him open, your hand focuses on his frenulum, massaging his most sensitive spot until he’s a crying and trembling mess again.

“No, no,” he whines when your lips start kissing his leaking tip. “Sensitive — I’m…” his voice breaks and dies in his throat when your lips wrap around it. He has you everywhere and he’s not used to this. He’s not used to feeling so much and giving so little — in his mind, to give you nothing, but to you, he’s giving you a lot. This vulnerable side of him is much more than anything else. “I — I can touch you, I can —”

You shut him up with a slap on his thigh. “You can lay there and take it,” you say firmly but without stopping your movements.

He nods quickly, lips pressed in a thin line, but the pleasure is so big that his moans and whimpers just rumble in his chest.

“Moan, Jeno,” you call him out. “I want to hear you moan for me.”

“But —”

“But?” You scold, glaring at him and stilling your fingers inside him. “Are you going to talk back to me and tell me what to do?” He shakes his head quickly, mumbling apologizes. “I think so, do you want to be my good boy?”

“Yes, yes, please,” he cries, hips bucking up, at first you think he’s doing that to feel your fingers but he’s just that desperate. He truly acts like a puppy too excited to be your good boy to even think straight, his body moving on its own. If he had a tail, he would wiggle it like crazy.

“You want to be my good pup?” You ask again, your fingers pull out and then push in, dragging a low gasp from his lips.

“Yes, I want to. Want to be your good puppy, please.”

“Then do what I tell you to do,” you remind him, your hands go back to his cock, throbbing on his abs and leaking pre-cum. It’s almost… funny how big he is —body and dick— and how helpless and powerless he looks, begging for attention as if he couldn’t just take it from you, ordering you, fucking you. But he lays there, pathetically drooling on the pillow, while his dick drips on his stomach and his ass clenches around your two fingers.

His sounds are like music to your ears, and the vision in front of your eyes makes your pussy drool more, you can’t believe you’re so turned on when fifteen minutes ago you were almost throwing a tantrum for this. But Jeno looks like the prettiest thing you’ve ever seen, and you wonder if he feels this way when it’s the other way around. All you know is that you’re mesmerized, eyes stuck where your bodies connect, his hole fluttering around you, the lube squelching in and out, and his toned, strong legs spread open just for you. Then they move up, the way his dick is throbbing in your hand and spills pre-cum, his chest rising fast, his hands clenched around the sheets. And his face, his eyes are closed but you know they’re rolled back behind his eyelids, his lips are swollen and dark pink, parted open to fill the room with the most desperate whines, his hair is a mess again, scattered around the pillow and his forehead.

“Fuck, fuck,” he whines, lifting his hips from the mattress when you hit him deeper and your hand starts moving faster on him. “Feels good, feels so good, you’re so good, you’re — you’re perfect, I love you, I love you,” he cries out, head rolled back as he lets the pleasure rush through his body.

You smirk at his words, the desperation and devotion behind his voice making shivers run down your spine. “Are you going to come?” You ask, already knowing the answer, watching him nod quickly. “Yeah? Will you be a good boy and come from my fingers only?” Your hand leaves his dick, eliciting a disappointed noise from him, but his breath gets cut off when you add another finger inside of him.

“Please,” he cries, the stretch of the three fingers making his hips move even more from the mattress, only to stop when your hand, flat on his stomach, keeps him pinned down.

“Stop squirming, or I won’t make you come and keep edging you until you pass out.”

It should be a threat, but it doesn’t even sound so bad to him, but not now, maybe one day, now he wants you, and wants to come as soon as possible. So, his hips still, the nervous twitching passing down to his leg but it’s fine, it doesn’t get in the way.

“Good boy,” you praise, patting his head, and making him smile. “Be even a better boy and come for me.”

You don’t have to tell him twice before his orgasm erupts, his body shakes before stilling completely, spurts of white spilling on his stomach, even reaching the sheets as his cock throbs in release and his hole flutters around your three fingers that are still pumping in and out at a fast speed. Slurs of curses roll from his tongue, and so does your name, while his chest rises fast before his body slumps against the mattress.

“Please, please, stop,” he cries out, feeling overstimulated.

You listen, pulling your fingers out and cleaning them on his thigh before leaning forward to kiss him.

“Want you, mommy, please,” he pleads, tears rolling down his temple while his hands look for the warmth of your body. “Please, fuck me, need to feel you.”

“Calm down,” you say, giggling at his cuteness and eagerness and get rid of your panties, throwing them behind with no care, and then follows the bra.

Jeno feels less embarrassed now that you’re exposed too, and gets lost in your body for a few seconds before he bites back a moan when your warm and wet skin makes contact with him. “I — I can fuck you, I can make you feel good, too,” he promises. “Be your good boy and fu–fuck you well.”

You smile tenderly, teasing him as you grind your hips rubbing your pussy on his dick that’s resting on his stomach. “Oh, I know you can.”

“Please, please,” Jeno cries out more. His dick is incredibly sensitive, it’s painfully aching, begging to be wrapped by something after all this teasing. You barely paid it any attention this whole time. “Let me be your good boy, use me,” his voice breaks and he almost chokes on his words as his pleading eyes stare at you for mercy. “Use my — use my cock as you please. Use me like your toy,” he says, “your good toy.”

It almost breaks your heart; he needs validation so badly and you feel genuinely bad for never noticing this before. You just thought he was always so strong and confident; you didn’t think he needed reassurance so much.

“Here, pup,” you say, sinking into him.

Jeno’s head rolls back, his hands clasping around your waist, but his hold, even if it’s strong, is different from all the other times before.

“Fuck, mommy, feel so good.” The way your warm walls wrap around him send him straight to heaven, you’re wet and fit perfectly around him.

“Yeah, you too, baby. You feel so good,” you curse through gritted teeth. He might be a mess underneath you, whimpering, crying, and begging, but that doesn’t make his cock shrink. Jeno’s big, and you should be used to it by now, but somehow it still feels like it splits you open every time.

“Please, fuck me!” Jeno laments loudly, bouncing his hips against yours, but a stern look from you makes him stop and apologize, “So-sorry, fuck me, please?” This time his voice is soft and polite, a desperate edge but with no eagerness behind — yes, there is, but he tries hard not to show it.

“Oh, fuck,” he screams when you lift your body up and slam back into him. You’re a lazy rider usually, and to be more honest, you’re just never a rider, 90% of the time riding his dick is a punishment to make you work for it, but now… well, you kept your skills well stored in. “Oh God, oh God, oh God,” he whimpers, hands clenching hard around your waist until his knuckles go white.

“What? You wanted me to fuck you so badly, and now? Bit more than you can chew? Is this too much for you, pretty boy? You can’t take it?”

Jeno shakes his head. “No, no I can, ma’am, I can,” he whimpers, biting his lips harshly.

“That’s what I wanted to hear,” you hum in satisfaction. Your hands fall at the sides of his head, your smaller body somehow still hovers over him and makes him feel smaller than ever. Your intense stare pins him to the mattress even more, making him shiver. “Give me your hands,” you order, but Jeno doesn’t listen — he doesn’t even hear, too lost in you to pay attention to your voice. “God,” you huff, rolling your eyes back, “I really have to do everything on my own because you’re just that dumb.” You forcefully grab his wrists, pushing his arms over his head and keeping them locked against the bed.

“No, I’m — I’m sorry, I — I wasn’t.”

“Yeah, you weren’t,” you mock, stilling before starting to pick up the pace again, “you weren’t listening ‘cause you can only focus on how good I’m making you feel, right? Stupid, dumb puppy can only think about his pleasure.”

“No, no, please, forgive me,” he begs, tears streaking down his face, and words coming out between gags and moans.

“Can you fuck back into me? Or are you too fucked out to do that?”

“No, no, I can. I’ll be good, I’ll be good for you, miss,” he promises, lifting his hips to meet you halfway, but his body feels so heavy and his brain is mush, unable to send signals to his muscles.

Your head rolls back and your hands wrap tighter around his wrists, you find yourself grinding against him, rubbing your clit every time you bottom all the way down. But Jeno’s thrusts are sloppy and messy, he’s not even that bad when he’s about to come. “Stupid puppy,” you taunt, slapping his ass. “Can’t even fuck me after all the pleasure I gave you.”

Jeno sobs, literally, loud cries coming from the back of his throat making him almost choke, and you’re about to stop everything in worry before you realize that’s not because you went too far — partially, maybe, he’s not really happy to be said he’s bad — but because he’s close again and he loves the way you talk down to him and slap him.

“Are you coming again?” You ask in utter surprise because you can’t believe it.

But he shakes his head, he’s fighting against himself to hold it back, and for the sake of having at least an orgasm too, you stop your movements.

“I won’t — won’t come,” he mumbles, lips quivering. “Can’t you… can’t you just use me?” he wails. “Please, I’m too tired. Just… use me like a…” The last words are a slur lower than a whisper, and his head turned to the side doesn’t help you hearing what he said.

You tilt your head to the side, cupping his chin to force him to look at you. “Repeat loud and clear if you don’t want to regret it.”

Jeno gulps, nodding vigorously, but his voice still shakes, and his cheeks burn red again as he repeats. “Use me like a dildo, please.”

“Oh… so, this is how you want to be good to me?” You ask, grinding your hips against him, the stimulation is bare for you but so much for him that you trigger whines and whimpers out of him.

“But it will feel good, even if I don’t move, you know it,” he tries to reason, pleading with his glossy eyes. “I can eat you out after, or — or now, whatever you please, miss.”

“Whatever I please, uhm?” You ask, grinning.

“Yes, ma’am, I’ll do whatever you want.”

You smile, caressing his face, smearing the wet mess around before your hand pats his head. “You’re lucky I want you exactly like this, like a toy.” You start fucking him with no warning, and a gasp rips from his vocal cords before he starts moaning again.

His eyes roll back at each of your hard thrusts, and you see his hands itch because he can’t touch you, but you don’t loosen the hold on him. You feel strong, a kind of power you didn’t even know you had in you, and you don’t want this to stop.

Jeno’s entire body trembles when your hand wraps around his neck, squeezing just enough to dim the flow of air in his lungs. It’s hot but unexpected, just like it’s unexpected that he almost comes on the spot.

“Oh, oh,” you hum in delight, the corner of your lips lifting as you stare at him. “You like it…” Jeno tries to deny but you can read his body; you felt his dick throb inside of you, his eyes flicker to you in light panic before rolling in his skull again, and his breath falter. “Don’t deny it, it wouldn’t be the most pathetic thing you get off to,” you mock, making him blush again. “It’s alright, you can be my naughty boy, I won’t judge.”

He can only hum, and now that you look better in his eyes, you see there’s something completely different behind them. He’s in a completely different headspace, and you fear he won’t last much longer.

It’s the same for you, the thrill and adrenaline can only push you so far, you’re not used to this, bouncing your hips harshly on his cock and having control, your thighs are starting to scream, and your brain doesn’t want to pay them attention but you both know you’re both at the finish line for this first time. Not to add, you’re in desperate need of an orgasm.

“Ti-tight,” Jeno gasps when your hold on his neck loosens enough to let him breathe in normally again, just the time that he can take a few breaths before it fastens again, it’s not too tight, it’s your first time, you don’t want to end with him passed out on the floor, but it’s enough to do its job.

“Yeah? Too tight for you? Can’t take it?”

He moves his head randomly, frenetic movements as he moves his lips to talk, useless. Your cunt is sucking away every coherent thought in his mind, the only thing filling his brain: you and the need to release.

“Don’t talk, don’t need it. I know you’re too sensitive, wanted me so much only to shake underneath me because I’m fucking you too well. Can’t even form a coherent thought in that stupid, little brain of yours, can you?”

He shakes his head, tears streaming down, but you kiss them — lick them — away.

“It’s alright, I don’t want you to think. I like it when your brain is empty. Your just my pretty boy, right? Pretty, good boy that let’s mommy fuck him?”

His nods are eager, and without even realizing his tongue lolls out. You pout at the view, patting his head when you let go of his neck, making him breathe. “Good pup. Just look pretty for me.”

“Pre-pretty,” he whimpers before a fucked-out smile paints his face.

“Yes, baby, you are,” you kiss his lips, petting his hair another time.

“Co-come, wanna come, please. Let me — let me come, ma’am,” he cries out when he has enough air in his lungs and sense in his brain. “Be-begging. I’m beg — mmph,” his words die in his mouth and his eyes squeeze tight when you voluntarily squeeze harder around him.

“Begging? Is this how a good boy begs?” You ask, looking at him sternly, not that it lasts long, because when his eyes open into yours, you fold.

“’M sorry, so-sorry,” he apologizes, “please, miss, let me come, let me come inside of you, let me fill you up. You’ll — you’ll feel good, I promise,” his words are all slurred out together, spit drips from his lips down to his chin and neck, and his body is burning up, if it didn’t mean to edge and denying an orgasm to yourself too, you would probably push him farther, curious to see how far he can go. But for now, it’s fine, he’s a good boy, he deserves it, and so do you.

“Please, please, please, ma’am.”

“You’ve been so good, baby. You can come.”

When you give him the green light, his body explodes, his hips even shyly chase the orgasm up against you, fucking back into you lazily. His head rolls back and as soon as your hand sets him free, his hands find your hips, holding them tight, hissing and groaning when you hold yourself up on his chest, nails digging into his skin as your body keeps bouncing up and down, riding your orgasms.

Your body collapses on his, exhausted and boneless just like his, and his arms wrap around it right away while he still sobs and whimpers in the crook of your neck.

“Shh, it’s alright, you’re alright,” you whisper in his ear while your hand caress his hair, wet again but not with water.

“Don’t — don’t pull out,” he whines when you lift your body, “nooo, don’t leave me.”

“I’m here,” you reassure him right away, carrying his body with yours so you lay on the side and can pull him in a hug. “I’m right here, baby. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Good,” he mumbles, hiding between your chest and neck. “Tha-thank you, mhh, thank you for —” his voice breaks and his sobs get a bit louder as he hides more in your hold.

“Hey, it’s fine, take your time,” you say, still soothing him with circular movements on his back and soft rubs on his hair.

Jeno wants to talk, he has many things to say, damn, even an explanation to give to you, but he feels his body is heavy, he feels on a cloud, and you are the softness all over him, he feels safe, something he’s not used to feeling. You didn’t get mad at this, you won’t get mad if he falls asleep for a while, right? If he lulls in this sense of comfort and the aftermaths of what happened.

And almost as if you read his mind… “You can sleep if you want,” you say, kissing his forehead gently and rubbing his nape.

And he has no strength to reply as his body falls into a deep sleep.

When he wakes up, he’s not naked anymore, a big white shirt is around his body, covering just enough so he’s not completely exposed. The mattress is stripped from the dirty sheets and there’s a glass of water on the bedside table, but you’re not next to him.

Jeno almost panics, feeling the post-nut clarity made you run away scared and disgusted, but then the door opens, and you’re there. And it’s the same you he loves deeply. He can breathe again.

“Oh, hi, babe,” you greet with a big smile. You’re holding something in your hands and you’re wearing one of his shirts. “Feeling better?”

Jeno gulps, nodding and smiling at you, words are hard to find.

“Still too fucked out to talk?” You joke, slumping on the bed next to him, handing him the package of his favorite snacks. “Figured you needed some sugar after all that whimpering and squirming.”

“Oh, please, shut up,” he says, hiding his red face behind his hands.

“Hey, you were cute,” you say, grabbing his hands to move them out of the way. “I — I liked it. Did you?”

He nods quickly, okay maybe he’s still a little into that headspace.

You smile and then pout. “I’m sorry if I made you feel like you couldn’t talk to me about it. I’m always so loud and open about everything I want to try and… it never crossed my mind you might have different needs. I don’t know if you’re hiding anything else, but you can talk to me about everything. I love you and even if I might not be into something I won’t let it be the reason for a break-up, or a fight, or worse, making fun of you,” you say, grabbing his hands. “We can always try and then see the outcome. I mean, all that dominance before was improvisation, I was nervous as fuck too, I just tried to act like you usually do, tell me I was good,” you say, scrunching your face as you wait for his opinion.

Jeno laughs, it’s a genuine laugh, and you can almost see the weight being lifted off his chest. You still feel guilty for not making it feel like you could be a safe place for him, but it’s over now.

“You were really good,” he reassures you. “And… yes, I was a bit afraid of your reaction, but it was also something that had to do with myself. I’m — I’ve always been the strong one since I was a kid and then growing up it also turned into being this big ass man with muscles, so the pressure didn’t help.”

You nod in understanding. It makes you feel a bit less guilty, but you feel like there’s something else. “Is this all?”

“I also always have to be confident, but… I get insecure. I just feel like people are so used to me never making mistakes that they don’t even see my struggles or how hard I work for things, so all my hard work goes unnoticed. But I… I want to be… praised, I want to be told I’m doing good, I want people to tell me they’re proud of me.”

You cup his cheek gently and then kiss his nose, making him giggle. “I’m so proud of you, I tell you that, don’t I?”

“Yeah, you do, you’re the only one,” he says, leg bouncing nervously as he tries to find the words. But you’re holding his hand, rubbing circles on his palm and that’s calming him down a bit, or maybe not because he feels like he’s about to cry again.

“Hey,” you caress his chin and then rub your thumb on his cheek, your touch is soft, and his brain shuts off once again. It’s like he’s taking back all the wasted time he had to act tough and don’t melt in your touch. “I’m here, alright? Take your time.”

Jeno nods, small hums slipping out of his lips before he finds the courage to talk. “I don’t know, sometimes I just… I want to feel small. And I want to be the one getting cuddled and petted, and just taken care of. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I love doing that for you, but… I always see you being so carefree when you’re with me and sometimes I get… so, so jealous because you can… you can loosen up, turn your brain off and no one will judge you. But if I do it, if I get… vulnerable in your hands, I don’t know what people will say.”

You caress his cheek before your hand runs in his hair, not only because it’s covering his handsome face again, but also because you learned he likes it a lot, and as expected, he smiles. “Do people need to know?”

He tilts his head and furrows in confusion. “They don’t?”

“I doubt people care about our sexual life, or what we do in our home. So, this can be our secret, at least until you’ll feel comfortable enough to let loose even outside of these walls. If you’ll share this with me, it will be less heavy, right?”

Jeno nods, smiling and pushing back tears.

“Hey, crybaby today, aren’t you? Come here,” you say, pulling him into a hug. He holds you tight, still afraid you might slip from his hold, and breathes deep your scent.

When you pull away, Jeno’s looking into your eyes and you hum to signal him he can talk.

“Thank you, I don’t know what I would do without you. Seriously, you made me feel safe and not judged, it means the world to me.”

“It’s the way you make me feel always, I’m glad you could feel that way too. And I proved I can protect you even if I don’t have all your muscles,” you joke, lifting your arm and flexing your not-trained bicep, making him laugh. “But seriously, I would never judge you, and I really love this version of you, so, unleash it more often.”

Jeno smiles widely, his eyes turning up in his usual half-moons, and then he lays on the bed, tapping the space next to him. You beam and crawl next to him, pulling him closer again, his head rests on your chest while your hands caress his hair and you just relax in the silence of the house.

“I love you,” you whisper, kissing the top of his head, his hair tickling you for a second. “And I’ll love every version of you, in any universe.”

Jeno still has a secret, but luckily, he has you to share it with.

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @rbf-aceu ; @shiningnono ; @jaeminsbebu | general taglist: @froggyforyoongi , @wingsss45 ; @tddyhyck ; @technologyculturedneo

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capslocked · 6 months

Text

KINKVEMBER DAY: 6

[prompt: blowjob]

male reader x hyeju

12k words

“I mean, don’t you think,” Hyeju says, wagging a finger at you, “that when you suffer through a bad date, the world ought to owe you something?”

"Like what?" you ask.

"Better taste in women - maybe more orgasms; I dunno, a blowjob?" She shrugs. "The general idea is just that someone gets to cum."

You nearly choke on the air in front of you. "Jesus, Hyeju, warn a guy."

“What? I’m trying to commiserate with you,” Hyeju laughs. “Wouldn’t that be funny? Being able to kiss someone who actually, you know, might love you back, and at the same time. Imagine not hooking-up just to forget a shitty day. Sounds wild, right?"

"Utterly deranged."

"So wild."

The first time you hook up with your roommate, it’s because of genetics - though not in the weird, uncontrollable way your body gets rigid and sensitive to any pretty girl who wears nothing but a towel moving between her bedroom and the bathroom, or how her eyes might flick fast from your chest up to yours - or given that the absolute shape of her is a blessing from one god or another (benevolent, clearly). That's not why Hyeju and you find yourselves only a few months later grinding on each other after the clock ticked past midnight, making out on New Year's Eve.

No, it has to do with the fact that Hyeju's nearly failing the nine AM section of molecular genetics because she's spent every lecture doodling stars and planets and planets shaped like asscheeks and planet-ass constellations while everyone else writes notes or doom scrolls twitter or whatever and she is somehow simultaneously the only student who never slept with her face on the lab desk or missed an assigned reading and the only one who absolutely needs a tutor.

It's just cosmic odds that you'd be that one: her roommate, who shouldn't be talking so loudly in the library about sex (in a sort of non-sexy, Mendelian kind of way) or be thinking the kind of things you've started thinking when Hyeju wears one of her more sleepshirt-esque long sleeves, her voice getting lower as you rattle off, "fruit flies and thale cress, definitely, it's just an error of fate or chromosome splitting..." before trailing off into a question.

"This is the worst thing that has ever happened to me," she finally tells you. You listen to her sigh into the binding of her textbook, facedown. "I'm really going to bomb this exam."

You tap her hand twice with your highlighter across the desk. "Then you're pretty damn lucky, if you think about it."

She turns to you, smiles a bit. "Okay, point. The worst thing will be having to retake this stupid fucking class."

"Why didn't you ask for help or go to office hours if you knew you were... failing?"

"Maybe because doing anything more than the bare minimum to get through a class I don't care about is my definition of, failing," she mumbles. "Why didn't anyone tell me a single lab is worth half my grade? Or that the TA is this fucking unreliable? How is this the one thing, really, beyond the basics, that can't be taught by wikipedia, a wikihow article and a youtube video?"

You scoot your seat closer to her. "You really need to relax."

"Fucking tell me about it."

You turn it over in your mind a few times, capping the top of your highlighter.

"Want me to get you off?"

And it’s not like you really mean it, when you say it, which is the strangest thing: you wouldn't actually suggest it, normally, wouldn't mention it in passing and then leave yourself open to the follow up and cross examination; yet there it is, after three, four hours of cramming notes on heterochronicity and the sloshing of gametes - you actually did propose it.

Hyeju jerks up, surprised.

"Are you serious?" She looks around, nearly snorting. "In the library?"

The face you’re giving her makes her scoff.

“You’re absolutely nuts.”

You have character flaws; the inability to admit wrongdoing chief among them. Hell, maybe it's from your mother - or maybe all your brains are just scrambled by the fact that Hyeju's sitting there with her pen against her pretty lips, hair glossier than usual as she scans your face and makes your entire body feel like a reactor core in meltdown.

Maybe you can blame what comes next on that.

"I'm always serious. I'm asking a serious question," you whisper, closing the textbook and resting your elbows on top. You look around quickly, like you're sneaking something in instead of this perfectly reasonable exchange, the perfectly platonic - except maybe not so much - way for friends to help each other.

"And I'm wondering what you're asking." Her cheeks are definitely pinker, you think, or the way it fills out her face, from the bottom up, is just that easy to imagine.

“I’m saying you haven’t gotten laid in months.” Here, you realize, these blocks of mental logic that definitely weren’t there when you blurted it out start to coalesce into something solid as you go on.

And you hadn't been wrong when you thought no one had given Hyeju a helping hand in a long, long time: you've heard through the walls or the floorboards at odd hours of the morning that she spends far too long fingering herself to a mind-numbing, tear-worthy frustration that leaves her knuckle-deep but never, ever sated or satisfied.

"No one's around, you'll feel better. You said it yourself."

Not a work of your imagination here - her ears are fucking burning.

"Wait a minute." She pushes her chair back, away from you and your gleaming offer. It clatters on its back legs, and a librarian waves her finger in warning. You wave back, sheepishly, until she stops and Hyeju stands and moves away from the table to talk, hands crossed over her front.

She turns and asks in a hushed-down-voice, "how did you know - did you hear something last night?"

"You couldn't keep it down even if you wanted to, honestly."

Hyeju turns further and throws a glare at the library doors, because obviously her noisiness and their collective noisemanship, or whatever the hell the word is, is clearly the root of the whole goddamn problem.

"Look - if not, no big deal - but I'm just saying you'll probably get over it and at least think less about sex. Or at least the wrong kind of sex."

You expect her to turn, sigh, and ask if you've lost your mind. Expect her to gather her jacket from the back of her chair, take her books and stomp out the room. Or even burst out laughing at the insanity, before slapping your arm lightly, in playful retaliation - anything other than the serious look she gives you in return, tilting her head, pressing her lips.

She turns up at the ceiling for a moment, contemplating something. And it's cute. It's so very, very cute, how her mouth pouts as she considers the possibility, right up until she says, "okay, fine."

The moderate twist of surprise taking hold in your brow must be visible.

"Oh, don't tell me that was all talk. Get me thinking about the right kind of sex or whatever."

You laugh, which has the librarian staring at both of you - until the librarian stops staring and probably sees Hyeju sliding back into her chair, the full, pent-up weight of her concentration pointed your way, knees inching apart - you, and Hyeju waiting, your knee bumping into her inner thigh, leaning closer as the textbook hits the floor.

"Don't laugh."

"Not laughing, seriously. Not laughing," you stammer. “I just think you’re just full of surprises.”

She spreads her knees further and sits taller, looking right at you.

"So then, surprise me," and then presses her cheek to the crook of your elbow.

You slide your chair right into the space next to hers, nuzzling up into the space under her ear. “Keep studying, Hyeju, you’ve got shit to do.” And then you slide your hand beneath the waist of her sweats, knead the swell of her thigh until you find the seam where her leg meets her body, press your palm down on the place just next to her center, your thumb in the middle. All this perfect pressure.

"Fuck," Hyeju says under a shudder. She's breathing heavier when your hot, open-mouthed kisses start landing at her neck, and she probably tries to read her textbook for about forty-five seconds longer. But there's the clench of her jaw right as your middle finger begins tracing circles beneath the fabric of her panties, and her gaze is blurring until she can't tell the difference between an allele or your fucking name.

"Shh-shh," you quiet her, finger tapping harder, playing with the slick wetness beneath all those layers of thick cotton and pressing two fingers there until her knees part like they’re not interested in resisting at all. Your lips press a kiss to the shell of her ear and she tenses all at once, hand shooting up to cover her mouth.

She simply leans back, closes her eyes, and lets you take care of her.

“Okay, you’re right,” she says, shaky and uneven, “that really did take some of the edge off. Did we ever review - poly- uh, pol-polymers here?"

The sweatshirt sleeve falling off your shoulder is a hindrance to any actual reading; her shifting against the chair isn't helping either, but you manage to push down the thoughts of stripping her down completely and giving her your tongue as yet another distraction.

"What did the syllabus say? I don't know if we need to read too far on 'polymers'," you say, having going through an entire afternoon without considering this once, but as you curl your fingers and take an honest crack at cramming the remaining chapters into her head, the knowledge that no one else is getting her this wet - except for whoever she's got in her mind's eye at three AM - is enough to get you feeling a little dizzy.

It’s probably supposed to be weird, given that you’ve never gotten any of your other friends off spontaneously in the library, or there's the fact that you can't really avoid each other afterwards, how she shows up in a silk negligee when you're pouring coffee before sunrise to prep for another day and you have the opportunity to notice - yes, she has amazing taste in underwear, yes, you might not have really appreciated her chest and figure enough before - yes, fuck it. She catches you noticing that first time, after coming downstairs with nothing but one of her cropped t-shirts and her board shorts, and she smirks when she realizes you're still thinking about it that afternoon, when her foot grazes yours while you're both washing dishes, and she dries the plate in her hand with a slow swipe.

And it is weird, actually, to describe what’s going on between you in words.

A few words, anyway, like a one-word label to describe what it was: friends or roommates-with-benefits, or - fuck buddies - god, it's even worse. Fuck buddies? Fuck friends? Something equally terrible and stupid that still makes sense, like something out of a shitty rom-com: it doesn't capture any of the rest of the myriad ways in which things can feel less or less friendly between two people.

So, friends was never, ever going to cut it. Roommates - although technically correct - is just this side of too clinical. And let's be clear: strangers don't wake up every morning together, walk to the same class, sit close together in the middle seats, secretly flick a strangers' skirt up in an empty lecture hall and get on their knees and work your mouth onto her pussy and watch the legs of the desks shake when her feet arch into the floor.

"The notes you've got are better than mine," is how Hyeju tries to put things, the next day and every time after that, standing in the doorframe, or at the foot of your bed and looking every bit the disheveled and hopeless mess you imagine she might spread out over the sheets of her own.

It gets complicated, which isn't really a surprise.

"You think your roommate is going to be home tonight?" is the question that comes up multiple times - from a revolving door of pretty names and faces. Hyeju has at least one opinion, if not more, on each of them.

"Tell Jinsoul I say hi," she says once, watching you get ready for a date, and you nearly bang your knee on the edge of the bathroom vanity.

It's one of the more harmless comments she's offered.

Another, backhanded: "if you’re just looking for a blowjob everyday between lunch and our physics lab, let Hyunjin or Heejin or whatever-her-name-is know she's easily my favorite," Hyeju says on your way out one morning, still under her covers.

Or,

Hyeju's texted a simple "uh, Chuu? really??" when you mention, once, how much fun you've been having - and what kind, as you make a round of self-conscious and rambling phone calls the next day that land you with only one prospect for the night - but your roommate's also no longer being your roommate by the end of it, bouncing against your thighs in the bathtub and moaning something about please more and fuck or fucking make me cum; the details escape you a bit.

That's what friends are for, probably.

Still, in the same, bare-bones explanation, friends also aren't for falling asleep on you - or letting you hold her - or fucking you awake in the middle of the night. Friends aren't for pushing down your jeans when the early-morning dew settles on the back patio, or jerking you off in the seat beside yours with a sweatshirt over your lap when a group project is due later and you all should probably work on that and instead get yourselves off and leave the mess of what you're doing half-finished. Friends aren't, probably, for offering to watch you rub your palm up and down your cock the night before next semester's exams when you can barely sit in a single chair and you can't think about molecular biology or neurochemical transcriptions when your whole body aches to do the transcribing. (If you can catch that drift.)

The lists of who are and are not good enough for you goes on and on - the latter longer than the former.

So, there's Choerry, who according to Hyeju is 'straight up, a total slut'. Yeojin, who gets mistaken for your little sister enough times that Hyeju refuses to - in good faith - let you keep sleeping with her. Both Heejin and Gowon are apparently too pretty for you. "Kim-lip?" she asks, in the middle of peeling garlic, "is that one name or two?" And laughs into a bottle of beer, loud, while you're telling her to quit being nosey and watch her fingers with the damn knife.

"You have a problem."

"Why, because I asked a few simple questions? I think anyone would be a little curious with the -" she pauses to wave her fingers - "I'd be remiss to not be interested in the very drama that unfolds literally across the hall."

She waggles her eyebrows.

You look up at the ceiling. God save you, you think. "Hyeju."

("Seriously," Hyeju chimes in one evening, arms around you, and a mouthful of the dinner you'd cooked.

"You need better taste in girls. Don't waste time on anyone too dumb, or who drinks the milk straight from the carton, or doesn't wash her socks with the same load of laundry. Oh, and - no one who chews loudly. No one who can't tell you're going to cum. The worst is someone who doesn't know what you like, trust me on that. And remember the last rule: don't do anything with someone who eats at a really slow pace, it's incredibly depressing."

You rest your chin on her shoulder from the spot behind her. "Duly noted, oh Master of all Knowledge."

She sighs into your arm, but in the next moment, her voice gets a lot softer, her hips fidgeting slightly against you. "I just mean you're the kind of person people would want to sleep with again," she says, before turning to say your name and kiss you again and again as your bodies curl inward.

"I wonder what that means, Hyeju," you say.

"Fuck," Hyeju groans as you slide further into her, pushing her back into the sofa - hands on her shoulders, legs bent on her either side, "don't tease me like this.")

The first snowfall of the year is mild, a tiny dusting, nothing that sticks on the pavement in the alley or on the sidewalks - or the lintels - or in Hyeju's hair, but by evening, when the snow picks up and everything goes quiet, Hyeju has changed into flannels and wool socks in anticipation, curled up like a cat at one edge of the window ledge as the world begins to go white. It's enough that you even pull on a thicker sweatshirt, open up a book, and join her.

She turns toward you, quiet.

You've reached a point in the semester where this, the silence, doesn't unsettle you anymore. It's the space you fill up with time in-between, where you can see the contours of her body against the orange lamplight of the space heater, or watch her kick off the top half of the duvet at night as you fight over space in her bed and wonder about the bare skin peeking out from her shorts.

"Feeling bored?" She slides her foot a little closer to yours, almost imperceptibly. "Am I keeping you entertained enough?"

Her lips pull up at the corner. You chuckle.

"Oh, no."

She scoffs and puts her hands on her knees, pushes herself closer to the window sill and bumps her elbow into your shoulder. The bare skin of her neck and shoulders and face is getting a little redder as she cranes it forward. "Okay, if not, do you need someone to entertain you, maybe."

Your mouth twists, fighting a smile.

Hyeju is so close to you, you could kiss her really, really easily and not care how she'd feel about that. It's not a habit, not as often as it used to be, but every once and a while - she starts this game. Every once in a while, Hyeju just starts smiling like that, and leans into you like she's daring you to play along, hard round of chicken until it's clear what the two of you are doing with each other; the minutes pass by, one, then two, and then - maybe she pushes first, her leg on yours, or a kiss to your jaw or a palm on your back as she walks behind you - and then you'd turn and kiss her full on the mouth and pull at her clothes like nothing's holding you back.

She cocks a smile, and says, "why don't you go and call what's her name."

"Because."

You glance out at the cold, gray light outside. If you had a better understanding of any of the workings inside you, you could reach forward and tell her everything that's stopped you.

You're supposed to meet the girl-of-the-month at a New Year's party. Hyeju looks disgusted within the first ten seconds of the whole story.

"Heejin dumped you once, like, two months ago? For no reason."

"It wasn't a break-up. We talked about what we did wrong and we're doing better," you say, lifting one finger.

She glares, then, tilts her lips into this unamused purse that you can't take seriously at all when she starts walking back and forth across your living room, hands moving emphatically to the sides as she speaks, like she's in the process of unveiling a brilliant argument and is using both palms to guide your eyes toward the unquestionable logic. "God, you're the worst. You're just her easy fuck and you'll still answer her late night calls, really."

She leaves the rest unsaid - that she's just not that into you.

"I don't tell you which boys or girls you can call up," you try, putting on a boot. "If you'd like, I can. Name off the list, and make sure that the right name leaves my mouth this time."

Hyeju doesn't blush when you glance up, which is the surprising thing. No - her cheeks have grown a little more sullen, and she stares down at her socks in contemplation. You're in the middle of fastening up the lace and getting to your feet, waiting, wondering if Hyeju's going to continue this conversation, when Hyeju takes one small step forward.

And her hand goes out to touch your chin, thumb at your lip, fingers holding it in place - like you'll turn if she lets it go - the sharp shock of the sensation like a short circuit, before her knee comes between yours, and your body tingles, at the root and stem. "Hey," she says, eyes meeting yours. The edge of her nail flicking gently as she drags the curve of her thumb downward.

"Hyeju, please - I need to get going."

When you start walking toward your car, she calls out from the window. Something about how you better have the time of your life, fun for the two of you - it’s only fair.

(You feel, somewhere, a certain strange loss.)

"What, are you going to stay up and wait until I come back? Or am I interrupting your session for the night."

You can barely make it out, the smallest look passing over her face. "Maybe," she says, and then: "god, it's fucking cold."

New year's parties have this sort of quality of being simultaneously the most thrilling, exciting prospect on earth and the absolute worst fucking event in the history of the planet - depending on the venue, how egregious the racket is for a gin and tonic, the guests - oh, and the company.

Jinsoul and Choerry are both in attendance; in separate corners and in equal states of undress and intoxication, which seems fine by every present party, who are for the most part busy ogling one or the other in the full spirit of the New Year - as you would too, if the stars are aligned and Heejin hasn't already gone upstairs with half the guestlist, her arm wound with someone else's, as per her recent habit; if you haven't been tossed aside for any of the usual, less forgettable prospects and for something bigger, better and certainly much more enjoyable.

Which, if there were any way to track these things down with math, you'd already be reaching for your pen and notebook, as Hyeju would describe this sensation in a phrase she picked up from some podcast. Inevitable means necessary, or something.

"Good party," says Heejin, throwing back another drink.

"Yep. You said that," and you finish yours in one long draw, hissing through your teeth.

Heejin is a goddamn delight, of course, in all the simplest of ways. When she looks up at you - mouth pink, hair framing her face - she is so clearly and completely aware of what she is, and exactly what the world has in store for her, what it has set aside.

"Do you want to know what happened at the other New Year’s party we went to last year?"

"I - yeah. Hit me. Tell me all about (another date you were on) Heejin, that’s exactly what I’d love, let’s hear it."

She throws her head back and laughs, before starting into an overlong recount of her latest, greatest conquest, you on the outside. This is the thing - this is how a pretty face, with just a hint of a flirt, will make you feel for a beautiful, attractive, vivacious - absolutely shameless, raving sex-crazed lunatic of sorts who, apparently, loves to run around town and make a bunch of your closest friends fall in love and heartbroke-er, with every passing notion of her beauty, her charm - just the tilt of her chin, and some poor fucker is lost, absolutely lost.

Even she knows it's a bad habit of hers.

But who doesn't have a weakness? You've got plenty of your own - plenty, Heejin can admit - everyone does, in a way, and so Heejin, the other sloppy drunks milling about the party, and Choerry and Jinsoul all agree - someone like her just happens to have the best kind of weakness - so, so many of them, in fact:

"Can you believe how easily a few words get Jinsoul riled up? Or how it only takes a couple drinks for Choerry to pull up the hem of her skirt, not knowing the effect that'll have?"

And as for the last, and arguably worst kind -

"Hyeju, huh? What a great start to the New Year," is her final word. Heejin reaches across and downs your drink. Her expression turns just shy of grave, a pensive look. "Not your smartest idea, the living-together situation. Who in their right mind would put themselves in such a mess?"

"Thanks for the great advice." You wave her off, irritated.

There's another laugh before Heejin leans her face onto the table.

"Though maybe she's onto something, now that I think of it. Who needs anyone for the New Year?" and it's almost convincing the way her mouth, lined up with the rim of the glass, smirks when she drinks. "Mm. All a matter of taste."

The snow is halfway up your calves when you realize you need to find a cab at 11:30 PM on New Year's Eve. (Which, categorically, is the worst time to need to find a cab on New Year’s Eve.)

Or just:

11:36 PM and the nearest bus stop is too far away.

11:41 and the temperature feels like its dropped by fifteen degrees, like you should start wondering what hypothermia symptoms look like and what signs to look out for in yourself, your future wife and your children. You try not to think about why, but you get your phone out and immediately call Hyeju, so you're not sure what you think you're denying.

"No party?" she asks. Her voice is distant and sleep-ridden, but Hyeju's quick to pick up, like always.

"It sucked, I'm trying to find a way home early. Happy New Year."

"Happy New Year." There's a long pause, filled in by the squeak of snow beneath your boots. "Get a kiss?"

"Uh, not yet. In the market, I guess."

Hyeju's low hum isn't reassuring, either. "Well, you're kind of missing your window. Bad time to start looking."

"Says you, and here you are - still up for someone to spend the night with. Look at you," you respond, all this snark in your voice that she clearly hears. There's a long sigh.

"Actually," and Hyeju, much to the confusion of you and possibly the whole world, doesn't respond, and for a few seconds, the line goes completely silent, leaving you hanging.

She breathes once and comes out of her sleep with a yawn.

"I actually," she begins. There's a lot less preamble this time - this tone - and when she speaks again it comes through not nearly as sleepy, "was sorta wondering. Are you on your way home?"

"If I don't freeze to death, yeah."

"Yeah - no, yeah," and that's it. That's the sum total of what makes any difference between where you were a moment ago, and where you are right now, head spinning, fingers buzzing. Hyeju waits and there's the wind on the line, snow settling on your hat and in the corners of your face.

"I - sorry. I probably woke you up. Are you expecting someone else," you say, very small. Your foot drags behind the other. The cars whizz by you faster, passing.

"Hm. You're the only one, I guess," and after that - just static and the muffled sounds of her footsteps on creaky floorboards - or the tick of her ceiling fan? You can't make heads or tails of the rest of the background noise. All those words she said.

You bite your tongue to stop whatever curse words start pouring out from the jumble and cross streets, or the pedestrian underpass; snow gets stuck in your lashes and burns, but your chest is like a molten furnace. You consider telling her right there on the line, everything you're feeling - so hot, it feels like fire, Hyeju, I'm not used to getting heated and desperate and impatient - that even if you're not here now - just imagining your face - the sound of your breathing, it feels like I'm on the cusp.

"Yeah. Sure - good - okay, Hyeju."

"I guess, see you soon?"

"In a bit."

(It takes 33 minutes, trudging through cold and wet. It's all very dramatic, you think, and there's no one there to even watch you suffer for it, or - though you try not to think about that particular line - really, no one at all.)

You hear the way your key grinds in the lock - it's been like this, jammed since summer, when you pushed the front door in late at night a little too hard and something came undone and made a sound like a small stone tumbling down the world's deepest well. The hinge squeaks, and there's ice on the stoop, on the doormat, on every nook and corner you can see, all the way up your neck.

And your face, too. You shake off your hat, undo the buttons on your jacket, and pull off your boots before hanging them and all the layers to dry.

You can make out the outline of her profile at the edge of the door frame, right in the kitchen - barefoot, hip pressed against the island, pajamas - the dim lights illuminating the shadow of her head, hair over her face -

- but you don't pause. The next layer. There's nothing left to say. You're too cold for excuses, too smart to use the same ones you'd been taught, like: this is a normal, acceptable circumstance; everything, anything, will be perfectly normal if the two of us act as though that's the case; pretend we're both acting within the norms of reason, within our senses and logical thinking and I won't make myself go out in the cold a second more - won't stand for more than five minutes with your eyes looking like they're waiting.

So you move instead toward the kitchen, where the heating is better and she's already pouring coffee. There's a heat radiating out of the oven, and it smells sweet in there, like cinnamon and warm butter, and you wish you weren't still shaking, blood barely thawed, but there it is - her face, watching you - eyes gleaming as you wrap your hands around a mug, steam rising up - a shiver running up your arms; her knees skirting yours when she takes one step back and there's the cabinet door shut, then open again, and then a palm on your back.

Hyeju presses a cup of the fresh coffee, now warm enough to drink, to your chest, and says, softly. "What the fuck happened out there?"

She starts reaching out to wipe the frost and slush from your face. You let her hand hold you still, eyes wide.

"Oh you know," and her palm stays, even though it's obviously - suddenly - gotten warmer, and wetter too, and the longer she stands there and lets her fingers warm the pale bones of your cheeks, her wrist, the base of your forehead and ears, the more expectant the look on her face grows. "The usual."

Her eyes go as narrow as they ever can. For just a moment. "You're gonna die a slow, pathetic death someday, just for the record."

"Don't forget how this starts," you try, and feel your neck go warm, throat and breath tight. And not even when her shoulders shift, her mouth going smug - just looking at you.

“I mean, don’t you think,” Hyeju says, wagging a finger at you, “that when you suffer through a bad date, the world ought to owe you something?”

"Like what?" you ask.

"Better taste in women - maybe more orgasms; I dunno, a blowjob?" She shrugs. "The general idea is just that someone gets to cum."

You nearly choke on the air in front of you. "Jesus, Hyeju, warn a guy."

“What? I’m trying to commiserate with you,” Hyeju laughs. “Wouldn’t that be funny? Being able to kiss someone you actually, you know, might love you back, and at the same time. Imagine not hooking-up just to forget a shitty day. Sounds wild, right?"

"Utterly deranged."

"So wild."

When Hyeju sighs and gives a long, nonchalant hum, leaning her body closer, pressing up until her waist hits the cabinet top and you're pressed together chest-to-chest, she looks at you and her hips settle, the heel of her foot reaching around your calf.

There's that tingle. Again and again. You're not even trying to not think about what it might mean.

But then, you start, silently and unconsciously, trying to answer the question: why don't you, maybe. Why don't you, actually - Hyeju kisses you, pulls on the loop of your jeans and lets your lips brush the corners of hers and pulls away, suddenly, mumbling and head-turning. And just as abruptly, your nose buries in the space between her neck and her shoulder, where it's all warm. And when she puts her palms on your hips and squeezes and twists her knuckles into the fabric there, it seems she wants your hands up her shirt and under the small of her back.

And her hands - they're fidgety tonight, fingers curled up to keep their nails and the chill away, moving lower - one on your ass, while the other comes forward and begins rubbing circles, a handful of times - enough so you're letting a deep, low breath escape into the space just above her collar, your knee working its way between hers.

"That," Hyeju breathes, lips at your ear, hand reaching down to trace the hard curve of your cock pressing in the spot right between you, and there's that small rush again, familiar now, like you've caught a rhythm and she wants to feel it in its fullness: "is how you can make it up to me. For making me stay up. Worrying about you, god knows why. Waiting."

You're still half-frozen in a way, slowly thawing. "Hyeju, I've been trudging through the consequences of my actions this entire night. What am I about to suffer through now?"

"It's no consequence, honestly."

You squint.

"Just an idea, but," she breathes again; your bodies getting closer, and looking up at you, she grins and reaches down to touch the very root of you, her fingers drumming. You make a sound, and at that she says, her voice coming out thick, low:

"Want me to get you off?"

She squeezes again for good measure, just to be clear. Just a slight curl of fingers that's enough to send a flash of heat and the transient thought: why, why, why is she always wearing those fucking shorts, even in the winter?

Your blood thrums through the pulse at the end of your cock. You shake.

"Alright," is the response you let out.

And at that, Hyeju takes your wrist and leads you upstairs.

"There's that look. Don't worry. We'll find a way," is all she says as your feet walk forward, up step-by-step and higher and further up to her room. "After all, isn't that what we've always done?"

"It's usually whatever will make me stop talking."

Hyeju puts her chin on your shoulder. Her eyes follow the lines and shapes in the patterns of wallpaper as you turn onto her side of the apartment, and even through the wall and behind the doorway, her arm still around you, she pulls at your chin until your faces turn and you both can share each other's heat.

"Who, you and your awful habit of talking out-loud in your head while you work through equations?" and she brings her lips to yours, close and warm.

"Hey. Fuck you," and your voice breaks into an odd, low laughter when she kisses you harder.

"Yeah, I know," she whispers as her hand dives past the band of your boxers, palm sliding easily until she's gripping you fully and letting her fingers rub. She holds you there, in her room, her arm looped through yours, another arm resting at your belly.

And she stops there. She stays like that: holding your gaze.

"Look, Hyeju," you say, unable to not, though this can hardly count for anything; this, what you're about to admit, is nothing new. You swallow. "The thing is - you shouldn't."

"Don't want me to touch you?" she says, finger to your lips.

"Well, that's different. Maybe. Is there - maybe it's not the best thing to ask you right now."

Hyeju considers for a brief moment and tuts under her breath. "Can you at least do me the decency of waiting until I'm done wringing you dry before you say shit like that."

And she moves then, toward the bed.

So:

No. Yes. Maybe. Who knows, you tell yourself. Maybe, but only because you'll do anything if it makes you feel less sick, like a creature standing over its own skeleton - an abandoned shell; a relic, something to be feared and disgusted, as you let her go between your thighs, kneel beside the bed.

"I mean - since when - have you felt," is just as far as you're allowed to go before Hyeju presses her nose into you and pulls you out of the thin, cold fabric - palm, thumb, all those slender fingers swiping over your head - and now there's just the smell of her room and the shock, the buzz that runs down your spine and settles somewhere, somewhere inside the small and desperate movement of your hips and the tension building just below.

And god, fuck, Hyeju’s lips.

These soft, wet, pouty fucking things that could suck you straight off if you were feeling any less stupid or inexperienced or sentimental - if she wasn't solely intent on teasing it out of you first; a slow drag of the tongue up the underside; the tip of it poking, tracing the rim, like she's figured you out, just where to lead you. She's ready to smoke you out - always - until you're not taking in a breath every ten seconds but starting to close your eyes to the overwhelming, needling pleasure, too sharp, the way she knows you like best.

"Now you're finally - mm - starting to sound hot," and that smirk comes back to the corner of her mouth, teasing the sensitive belly of your cock and tracing her tongue everywhere. "With the voice and -"

You're losing track, her thumb and fingers circling the whole length of you - just, one after the other - mouth a hair-breadth away, her breath hovering like a promise.

"- that face."

"Don't, fucking tease me-"

The sound of your cock going in is like nothing else.

Wet and filthy in all the right ways.

Just the suction in her throat has your eyes nearly roll back into your head - Hyeju's gaze calmly watching the terrible sort of helplessness that washes over you like this: her lips wrapped around, bobbing - her hair falling into the wet mess of her mouth and sticking there. Hyeju likes being a little sloppy, likes feeling that spark run up the length of her tongue when she slides. It's the wet and the heat that gives everything away.

"I don't have much of a choice -" her jaw and chin is smudged when she pulls back off of your cock, mouth glossy and glistening, "and honestly, wouldn't it be a better use of our time, or my talents if I actually do that thing?"

“Which is?”

She looks up for a bit and sighs, the flush blooming pink to the tip of her ears and into the rounds of her cheeks and all across her neck. "Since, as far as I can see, what you really like - is, oh I'm just spit-balling here," and she stops just to bite her tongue and look into your eyes, "it's letting the girls take care of you? Isn't that right?"

You want to tell her, no, not always, that it's not as though you enjoy giving control completely - that that would be completely and unarguably, the opposite of true -

That most of the time you love it when the person you're with is a little bossy, a little crazy for you. You know some guys really get off on a strong woman and maybe, maybe if a girl's pretty and dressed up, and - sure - a little wet, but that's hardly -

“You know I’m right,” she says, a flicker of mischief skittering across her features. “These walls are paper thin.”

You want to tell her, perhaps remind her, that she likes someone in charge just as much as you do - to be taken care of, told what to do - to have a hand curled up around her throat and the other at her tits while a guy fucks her the right way and takes the reigns when she needs. So who are you, when it comes to knowing her better? And who, really, are you fooling?

But before you can get any words in: Hyeju dips, lips parting where the head of your cock throbs, and then disappears; and the hot wet warmth, enveloping all around your shaft and back; the curve of her throat contracting.

You moan - a lot, and louder this time - into the whole feeling. The way her fingers work the distance from the base, twisting and twisting and twisting into the pout of her lips; or how the sound is like nothing - a whimpering, messy sound - almost a whine and definitely not a slurp as your cock sinks further and further, until it's all one big, heavy throb.

And it's like Hyeju can read your thoughts, the visual you have of her lips screwed tight around your shaft - cum leaking from the corners, and her eyes scrunched up tight, as she looks up to watch your face unravel - this perfect image of her taking you, all of you, swallowing each drop as your hips start rutting up into her and - and - and.

Or else she gets impatient, because then Hyeju gives one long pull off the tip of your cock - saliva mixed in the precum there, and that shiny string of fluid hanging, caught in the middle between your bodies - a disgusting and irresistible sight. Her jaw slack, lips swollen and full, and her mouth gone wide open, wanting.

"Fuck - that's good. Don't stop," you start to whimper, desperate, at the sight, the smell. Her hot breath coming quick over the red wanting wetness left behind - then touched by the cold air - fuck -

She slaps your cock to the corner of her lips as she speaks.

"Can you believe what's going on down here?"

"God, can you -"

"And to think most guys wanna jump straight in. That or fuck a load out between my tits."

"Hyeju, shit, come on -"

She kisses the soft tip, right where it’s most sensitive, rolls it along her lip. Then, back down the length of your shaft where she's generous with her mouth inch after inch - lapping, licking, laving - and Hyeju begins working her way down and downward, nestling in at the edge of the bed and between your thighs.

Your eyes blow up the first time she dips low enough to put your balls in her mouth.

“Mmhm,” she hums.

It’s killing you and she knows it; it’s killing you and she can feel the pre-cum leaking from your slit - the thumb she has moored there, keeping everything right where she wants it, running circles up the length with such little intention - she could bring you to the end just like this.

"Am I supposed to believe it?” she asks out from beneath the shadow of your cock, looking up at you with her eyes all wide and brilliant - pupils dark as sin. “That not a single one of those girls ever did you proper?"

You curse under your breath. Hyeju seems amused, at least, like she can't help but love doing that to you, which is almost worse and honestly the sexiest thing a girl can be. You groan - wanton, raw and desperate and feeling exactly what she wants you to feel when her nails drag along the dip of your hip bones.

"Did they not leave you fucked-up the right way?"

Her wrist flicks out these twists and turns, making your spine bend to her control. Like even when you're sure to be bundling her hair in your fingers and fucking the whole length of your cock down her throat, all of this is the worst kind of power-trip for her - not the other way around.

Her tongue runs through the tangle of your balls, slowly, lasciviously, as though the plan is to memorize and map every detail.

And the worst part is, how much it's making you desperate for the warmth of her mouth - where she'll run her tongue up and down and over and around and inside - before sucking you off nice and slow.

"Or maybe," she laughs; another flick to the top and then suddenly her hand goes faster and the fist pumping the rest of you tightens. "They left you so needy you're resorting to having the bestie suck you off so that you won't be desperate the next time you date. Oh my god-"

Hyeju breaks into this fit of laughter, and you're nearly cross-eyed at the feeling of your entire existence - not just your cock - so wholly held within her mercy, and her pity, and you're breathing so shallow now you'd think this is the real reason people have died and will die - this exact moment where you're choking and stuttering at the edges, so very close to cumming and going absolutely bonkers with how good Hyeju is with her hands, her tongue, her mouth - everything - how much she's wrecking you, and your jaw drops, wide open, her name dripping like molasses off your lower lip.

"Are you going to cum?" she asks, curiously. All as if she can't see you nodding, collapsing under pressure, and then and there: "should we make it official?"

Her nose tickles the seam of your balls. And your toes begin to curl and uncurl - all this anticipatory, coiling pleasure burning from her throat, shooting from the pit of your stomach; the tightening spiral, twinging and stretching every nerve - as her lips enclose around the end of your cock, softly.

And oh, just excruciatingly slowly.

You watch the irresistible shape of her mouth travel down until her throat feels so incredibly, beautifully, and unbelievably tight, and then, just like that - Hyeju starts fucking herself onto you; pushing forward and down the full, rigid length of you, hard and fast - each time hitting deeper inside her - all that sticky, messy, wet squelching.

"Unh-unh, yeah. Unh. Mm-!" you say, or moan, or some animal version of that, maybe, it’s incoherent.

But regardless:

It's messy and your hands scramble for purchase in the sheets of her bed when you feel that snap, the tightening of a trigger; when your balls roll up and it builds, and builds, and it comes faster - harder and -

"Hyeju," you pant, and it sounds so, so filthy. "I'm gonna cum, if you - gonna cum-"

Hyeju pulls you free from her lips, quite possibly at the most final of final moments, to rub the base up and down, just right, between her fingers. Your cock is resting right on her cheek when it all happens. When she squeezes her fingers around your balls just enough to hear you wheeze and make a sound no sane man should have the right to. And fuck, you're cumming all over her face - or just one side of it - which is already just -

Okay, fuck.

She makes a startled sound and her fist closes tightly around your shaft when you pump another fresh load of white up onto her eyebrow.

"I'm, ah-shit," your mouth moves faster than the blood in your veins - and now the shame - oh god, the humiliation, it's pulsing right behind you. "Hyeju," you apologize.

Only, Hyeju has no interest in any of it. She doesn't seem offended or disappointed in proportion to how you're ruining her pretty face: "no, just do it, cum wherever you fucking like."

Which isn't what you're expecting at all, because Hyeju makes no effort to close her lips, let alone avoid any of it; nor is she making a fuss about the sticky mess in her hair, her mouth, nor as another stream of cum throbs from your cock, all tangled up in the long dark eyelashes that sweep down across her cheek.

It’s fucking filthy: you're cumming all over her and she's just kneeling there, telling you, "good boy."

See, she pushes through it, languidly - all those filthy sounds, and those watery little tears gathering at the edge of her eye and all of that, mixing up together until you're rolling your head back with your orgasm, shuddering, feeling weak - drained dry -

Except,

Hyeju's pushing a finger to your chest, kneeling up tall from the side of the bed. She turns her body toward the center of the bed and wipes a bit of the cum on her knuckles into the sheets. Here you feel like you've done something terrible or at least regrettable, like that last round at the bar when you have a test the next morning; a dick move, all of the sort that requires apology.

"You gotta give me a minute, if you're thinking about hopping on."

"Hmm. Sounds like a lot to ask."

"Wait," you grab her arm. Hyeju grins and there's nothing stopping the shake of your knees now, that weakness between your thighs: "let me get you a drink."

"Or."

"Or?"

Her tongue peeks out, running along her upper lip. Her eyes drop again, hands dipping below, beneath the hem of her shorts and oh. She slips a hand past her bra. The whole outline of it. And you -

"Mm, I could show you what that actually means." She lowers her chest, her breasts, and a lot of skin to the mattress while keeping your cock firmly in her hands. "That look tells me you wanna stick around a bit. Stay up past New Year’s, you know?"

You're almost unable to parse her words, there is so much to look at: the jutting curve of her chest, cleavage pressing into the mattress as her body settles between your knees. A soft chuckle; a sigh: "you are seriously the best lay, no-one else can get hard the minute after they just fucking exploded all over me-"

"Fuck, watch it," you hiss, because there's oversensitivity - and then there's Hyeju's mouth on the line of your cock, polishing you clean.

And it’s not that she isn’t trying to prove a point. Or that she's not trying to tease - that's an inherent quality of her character: a naturally dominant position with a high appetite for your lust. That much, Hyeju gets from you, whether you've got your head down between her thighs or the other way, too, so that her neck is arched around and her ass pushed up high in the air, legs open, and if she had any idea you would spend the next twenty minutes or more just going down on her, licking into her creaming cunt while two fingers work over her aching clit, then really, Hyeju would only encourage it - maybe get on top, force you to gag - and so you don't know where it comes from - how and why you want nothing more than to drive your fingers inside her and work her until she's a wet, squelching mess, not when this was always Hyeju's role of being the aggressor; and yes, sure, even the aggressed.

Surely not because you came so hard, still somewhat shivering with the remnants of a rather abrupt, painful, sudden and all-consuming orgasm.

"We're not doing anything else," she says, lips pulled up into a smirk right at the crown of your cockhead. But before you can respond she pushes a hot open kiss, and goes lower. She presses the flat of her tongue to the seam, just below the head. Licks a line right up to the tip and finishes with a tender flick that sends you fisting the bedspread in your fingers and leaning back as your mind begins to disintegrate -

"I'm not going to ride you yet, or going to get my hips in your hands so you can fuck my pussy real hard until I cry and pass out. Nothing of that sort is gonna happen." She licks one long drag of her tongue. Then, the other way. "I want to make this very clear: this isn't some huge favor - and if you want it - want it so bad, you can stay there and I'm going to do everything for you. We will get there - together," and with her voice shaking as she brings the wet, glistening skin of your cock just inside her mouth, she looks up. "We'll get each other off, just like this," and it's the deep, dark, throated moan that makes your thighs and all the nerves in between stiffen and buck when she swallows you again.

Hyeju's hands tug, pull her whole body closer still as it slowly bends, curves - her ass raised, her stomach lying on the bed. Her mouth takes you another few inches, until the tip of her nose is barely visible, but when she pauses to lick the cum still left over - the cum that's starting to leak out again - to breathe through it, then squeeze her palm and bob her mouth down, take another inch, until the sides are stuffed and emptying out again, that's when she finally has something to say: "got anything left? I'm a little starved."

"I. Christ, yes-" you whine, which doesn't help your case at all: the image, the image of you lying flat - back with Hyeju's head tucked between your knees, her hand pulling out your cock.

Sloppy, slimy-wet.

She presses an innocent, not-at-all-innocent kiss right to your tip, puckering -

"You know what I did learn in that genetics class?" she muses, tongue flicking over her lips. Hyeju's about ready for a second helping - you're losing it. "When I first saw that DNA diagram - the double helix and all those little base pairs, and everything - it made me think of your cock. Your cock and me. Specifically our DNA. Did you know-"

She presses her palm over the head and rolls it - teases and strokes her palm - her knuckles - her fist - the whole nine. "When I hold your big fucking cock, mm, and just get it right - up in here, rubbing all along my walls - so deep, it gets me in my fucking ribs, makes me choke like I never been choked before, ah-mm," and it's this thought sliding toward the front of your mind, this perfect picture: Hyeju, getting fucked hard and open and stuffed full and stuffed good and stupid; you’ve got more than a few inches on her, can make her feel small and delicate; you know how to do her right.

But here you have Hyeju stroking the shaft - holding her hand tightly up near the head, rolling and twisting and sliding down and pushing her whole body right into the side of your legs: the soft, solid length, warm flesh and curves everywhere pressing into you.

You sit back, and just watch Hyeju with her eyes cool and composed, like half of her fucking face isn't streaked with your cum, mouth wrapped and looking fucking satisfied to be a total, gorgeous mess. She makes a dramatic display of kissing the tip again, just before telling you words you probably dreamt up at some point - either sleep deprived, or, during three AM jackoff, fantasizing. "Sometimes, just from riding your cock, I can't sit up straight."

"Fuck," and you feel your whole body run rigid, because apparently that's something you’ve been aching to hear.

You're covering her mouth again. White streaking onto her lips - where she's catching it in the well beneath her tongue and letting it spill out of the corner of her mouth. Into the crook of your thumb, which catches a drip here and there and rubs it down the length - down the curve - and pushes it back between Hyeju's pert little pout.

"Doesn't count, mister, just more pre-cum," she says, all with the audacity of a wink and smile; her words are a little garbled around the head of your cock between her teeth. And when you nod and realize just how painfully your jaw hurts, your throat becomes tight and raw, a knot pulling the underside from the center. Hyeju slides her lips lower, lower down, to the hilt and stays there, just like that - one hand holding down the flat of your belly to keep your hips still, her chin hanging - bobbing-as she feels every pulse, every twitching shift. You curl one hand around the side of her face, over the sharp edge of her jaw; rub a thumb into the delicate skin of her throat.

She shifts. You start to tell her what you like: how hot the rush comes when a girl puts her tongue against the slit at the very tip, and licks at the precum in nice, quick circles, soft and fluttering. And how her fingers shouldn't hesitate either, Hyeju's not even struggling to give it to you - god - just giving and -

She jerks her head up, swallowing down her next breath like it's one of her last. "I'm serious, if you're going to fuck a hole, start with my mouth - we can move onto everything else after."

"You're ridiculous -"

She meets her lips to your head, kissing once. Again. Kissing every inch, letting her mouth wrap around and then just - staying, just - staying like that and humming, with you, enjoying the fullness, the smell of you, the taste, the shape, just the weight and size and you.

There is spit fucking everywhere.

And if it's not clear what you're supposed to be doing - her fingers weave through yours, squeezing hard at the wrist and you can imagine: pulling her forward by her hair and holding her down while she chokes on your cock. "Fuck, Hyeju," you say, and your voice comes out way shakier than you'd like, "when, how did it get like this, huh? You always - always did, shit, always want your mouth filled."

"Never figured you to be someone who'd get turned on watching their friend sucking their cock like this."

"Doesn't everybody love the sight of their cock in a pretty girl's mouth?

"You were really convinced they weren't lining up behind you? Or anyone in the queue who can't keep their eyes off of this thing. Tell me, and try not to lie, try not to bullshit this one out: how many girls have you come home and fucked and creamed their brains out - then asked for the sloppiest, most -"

"Honestly."

"- Filthiest, nasty, ball-busting, gut-wrenching blowjob ever to make them think - to make them really start wondering what the hell it was you did - like it's gotta be something that leaves them so ruined, they can't ever not compare - can't ever not compare this moment, right here. Ever. When you give them the hardest fucking of their life, compared to any other guy - can't not, because no-one, literally no-one's cock can fuck like you do-"

"Fuck-"

"Any harder. Come on, seriously, tell me it isn't true. Come on."

Her voice - her fucking words, the tone she uses and how her words roll: honey-warm and soaking with sweet, thick degradation - she talks like sex, and that's exactly what gets you harder, like it’s something else; like it’s nothing, like it’s less, so much worse - you feel this guilty-dirty heat pool at your tailbone and push down the hard press of you throbbing all the way to her nose. And Hyeju smiles as much as she's capable around the fat, round stretch, humming around the warm taste of you, before opening wide and sinking her throat on it.

There's nothing like it.

You've got two fists in her hair; she's so tight and wet around every god-damn inch. Her cheeks flush - hot to the touch; her tongue laving in slow, long drags, slicking your shaft nice and warm until you're balls-deep and pushing her further: a small shift to the hips, a push here, a harder, faster pull, and Hyeju's feet behind her go curling like an angry cat, wanting the tug.

A long, satisfied breath slips from the hollows of her throat.

There are tears threatening, thickening her lashes, and though she doesn't choke - you're just afraid. Every sound that she pulls out, her eyes blinking up to you as if it's only natural to love getting used by her friend's cock, like the very premise of it - swallowing down the very shape of you, dragged over her tongue and brushing cum into the back of her throat - is something she can’t go without.

But this is nothing compared to the noises from where her lips are pressed tight around you, where you're hearing and even feeling:

That gluck, gluck - where her chest spasms just the slightest when her nose gets nuzzled right into your belly and you remember how much she likes to hear you talk dirty, how fucking wet it gets her. The heavy, deep breaths, gasps; the strangled moans when your hips just buck - the heat and the thrill, and this is better than every other time because there's just something in this moment -

"I'm not gonna come again, not like this. Not in your mouth. You can’t-"

But Hyeju refuses to hear a word; just pumps your shaft faster, feeling it's familiar hardness grow and throb and ache and retch, all her effort paying off: you're slick with precum and spit, hard and straining, the whole shaft begging for release - all because of her. And Hyeju won't stop, she pushes her cheek onto your thigh and then taps a hand there to pull your hips. The motion drives your cock further still inside her. Until it’s bathed in her spit, your cum, all this mess.

Until it's reaching, choking her, and the muffled sounds she's making are filthy and wet and so incredulously hot.

But god. Hyeju has something of a temper and a habit, too: with those big beautiful eyes and the perfect plump of her pouting lips, her tits swelling up around, when your grip slips on her shoulder, and her mouth goes tighter - how the pleasure begins to make you unbearably cruel and you push her away from you, only for a second -

She doesn't wait or seem to care; Hyeju follows the cock with her whole head and whimpers so hotly in her throat when it plops right back on her tongue. "That's more - more like - fuck, oh, there we go," her nose and fingers prodding.

You groan through a high, strangled whimper, a helpless shiver that turns into an uncontrollable roll of the hips - you can't believe it: she's already so thoroughly debauched and defaced; just fucking painted with it. Your cum dripping off her chin and rolling down her neck.

"Fuck - gonna make me - ah, Jesus -"

When Hyeju seems to have reached her fill, the feeling, you're cumming - pumping the length of your shaft. And the moment she feels you twitch and throb and that first hot spill lands in the bend of her mouth, it's as if she understands and holds herself tight - her legs going stock-still while your eyes blow up behind her, your cock spewing another and then another thick, milky load into her mouth, over her tongue: all along the topography of her throat - sticky cum landing in every ridge and valley -

Hyeju catches as much as she can. What little she can. You cum and pump and gush so much that when you're finally finished - done - every last drop spent and given - your cock throbs soft between her fingers; her chin is a complete and utter mess and her chest heaves with the sound of her catching her own breath. Hyeju groans softly and just swishes the load around in her mouth for a bit as if wanting to remember its feel and weight before lifting her eyes to look into yours. You can just barely see the color.

"Jesus, Hyeju-"

The entire bit of it, slick and shining-wet. With a small moan, a sound from the back of her throat: one swallow and the cum is gone, disappeared, vanished. She smiles like she didn't just ruin your entire goddamn life and, with her body limp and exhausted beside you - her gentle hand rubbing a flat stroke over your thigh before yours slips up to meet her chin.

"You," you curse and roll your eyes, catching the mess at the edge of her jaw, the very little left in the corners of her lips. You feed the cum over her bottom lip - her chin, her throat - watching your friend: Hyeju's throat, bobbing. "Really didn't have to," you start, but you realize just how useless a point it is to make.

She's smiling and biting and showing you what's left between the tips of her canines. "Do you always do this to the people who suck you off?"

"That's an awful habit. A pretty girl's lips aren't meant to get that messy," you reply.

"Oh." She frowns. "Well, I do a lot of things I shouldn't."

"God, seriously," and you think there's no greater hell, no sweeter pain than whatever's lingering in these little aftershocks - this fizzling and dying sort of pain, where the body is buzzed with all you're aching for. It's impossible to stop this train of thoughts, is the fucking feeling of her-

But just then, Hyeju rises to her knees, a new spark in her eyes, as she grabs ahold of your wrist and tugs you off the sheets, a few inches closer.

"And you," she purrs as she drags the palm of your hand across her neck and collarbone, collecting what remains and making the perfect image, "well - you are going to help clean me up, like you said before." She sits tall; the arch of her spine is pronounced - her back, so, very, slightly tapering, to where your hand slips right off the last of it: the wide flare of her hips. "Now isn't that the gentleman's thing to do?" she asks.

"Of course." You sigh, resigned and in desperate need of water. "Of course," you add and smirk a little and slip your hand lower, toward where her skin is getting hot, and her body, "let's get you clean."

"Mm." She's already grinning. "You know what wasn't in those textbooks?"

"Oh, I can only guess." You bite your cheek and start to lower yourself back. "Give it a try."

Hyeju drags you by the wrist toward the hall, the bathroom, ostensibly the shower -

"There's no way in hell you don't want to put a baby in me, like, right fucking now."

"Is that what we're doing?"

Hyeju makes a face like you're stupid - she might've grabbed a towel on the way out. She wipes her chin a little while walking - the corner of her mouth where, well - where it looks like a little dribble has somehow remained. "No. But you’re going to fuck me like it is."

(There's got so much on her mind.

The door of the shower rattling in its frame as she struggles standing up against it. Getting fucked so fast and full, the feeling of both your hands cupped beneath the weight of her breasts. It's not the fact of where you are and your situation, per say - more about the immediate, the imperative nature. About fucking you. She was already feeling herself like, leaking the moment the door shut, so all that waiting, all that patience, really - and it's what drove her insane when you were, well: like that, after she put her mouth around your cock, made a right and proper mess of herself, and sucked you off.

Though there's less on her mind, clearly, when she cums all over your cock.

She's crying with her tits up onto the glass, your palm holding her ribs. Your cum-slick cock working itself hard again as it slips, back and forth, as you're fucking her open, spread apart. It's your finger in her asshole. That's what's on her mind then. How the press of your knuckle lights her entire fucking spine on fire - how the other hand finds her clit in all this, too, when you're no longer supporting the both of you but rather Hyeju is folding on her bent knee and trusting, on shaking and shivering, raw nerves, that you're not going to collapse.

"Fucking. God, please-"

There's the harsh slap of flesh - skin on wet skin, your palms against the sides of her ass and the curve of the breast. But otherwise - it's you, sighing - soft and gentle, like you can't get over the feel of her. "Hyeju, oh-fucking, god, fucking," is what you're saying, and it doesn't end up really mattering which one of you came last because she can feel you twitching, squelching in and out with how badly you're wanting to explode inside, but also you can feel her cunt absolutely begging, this fucking fluttering and clamping down on every thrust and the moment you manage to grind this angle she loses her ability to speak properly because you're not just, like - fucking her-

Just, absolutely, completely pounding her pussy, stretching her insides, dragging and sliding along the walls; each rough rub and thrust makes her knees quiver until her body is trembling and falling. But mostly her voice, the sharp gasp that shakes into her, how her nails are scraping the walls of the shower stall and she's saying - telling, crying and asking and wondering and pleading - just utterly astounded:

"Amazing," she huffs, breathes coming out cloudy and true onto the pane of glass, "you - it’s, fucking amazing.")

“And I am… Ironman.”

Your eyes flicker awake, hazy, as Tony Stark snaps his fingers, killing himself alongside Thanos’ army in the process.

The TV's long been running on background noise, though not as ambient. Its characters now bickering between the rubble and ruins and being picked up for the end credits. In the dark of the screen, you see Hyeju had nodded off and slumped over the side of your body. A new year means new beginning means resolutions and diets and gym routines -

Maybe no sooner than the sun can come up, apparently.

You lean over to grab your phone from the table: 4:14 A.M.

There's a lot of things you want to say, even more you want to hear, but your mind has begun to settle a bit - a lazy and dreamy thing that fills you with this sort of, tired kind of - not sad, or empty - no, of course not. That's hardly fitting; not after tonight. You want to wrap this in an idealistic sort of sentiment - maybe hold Hyeju close and let the hour carry you and the comfort be enough to forgive whatever there is to miss: like the fact, it's still really dark, so dark even outside. The moon reflecting off the sheet of snow on the street. And not even a distant dog barking, or car driving by or someone playing loud music in the early hours of the new year.

As the film drifts off into another set of commercials, you slip into an easy sleep that feels effortless. Your head drops, landing on the cushion by the arm of the couch, where Hyeju's hand begins to slip mindlessly across your belly, tickling your waist and causing you to slightly squirm - things are cooling down, but still a little agitated.

"Don't tell me you're waking me up, cause I just -"

She kisses the pulse at your throat and answers, mumbling half-words into the spot below your ear. "A kiss for a new year."

And maybe the world doesn't owe you anything at all.

Maybe it just gave you more than enough.

#hyeju smut #loona smut #loona hyeju smut #loossemble smut #loossemble hyeju smut #olivia hye smut #loona olivia hye smut #kpop smut #male reader #capslocked kinkvember

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logansargeantsbabymom · 6 days

Text

Lonely Christmas

Lando Norris x Fem!Reader

summary: Lando and Y/N decide that they want to play a prank on their fans and the rest of the grid by hinting at breaking up over X (twitter)

warnings: Cursing & “Cheating”

“hey babe, I have an idea.” I said with a smirk as I plopped myself on the bed next to my Formula 1 race winner boyfriend, Lando Norris.

“Oh no, this doesn’t sound good” Lando says chuckling as he props himself on his elbow to get a better view of me, before leaning down pressing a quick kiss to my lips

“mm, I think we should prank your fans and the grid.” I said with the biggest smile I’ve ever smiled in my life.

“and how do you suppose we do that, hmm?” Lando said, his eyes flickering between my eyes and my lips.

Sitting up and criss cross apple sauce, I stare into his soul “I think we should stage a twitter breakup,” I searched his face for some type of answer

“What? Is this a way of telling me you want to breakup without telling me you want to breakup?” He looks kinda hurt, which quickly prompts me to swing my legs over his body so i’m sitting on his lower torso.

“Absolutely not baby! i love you beyond the galaxy. I just think this would be funny,” i plead but Lando looks unsure “I’ll tell you what to say and all !”

“fine, but only if you let me eat you out, BUT you have to sit on my face” Lando knows I’m insecure about my weight and crushing him to death.

“oh! fine!!” I say plopping right off his body and landing on the bed with a huff. “so i’m gonna tweet something to indicate that we’re breaking up but not actually saying anything”

“and how are you gonna do that-” I quickly interrupt him

“make me cry” i say nonchalantly

“what?” Lando’s face reads 50 shades of Stunned “no, I promised you and your family that the one thing i’d NEVER do to you is make you cry.”

Hearing Lando admit that means the world to me, but i need him to stop being nice and make me cry. It doesn’t take much for me to cry and since Lando doesn’t want to make me cry, I’ll resort to the next best thing: thinking of my (very much alive) dog die.

Just a few seconds of thinking of my (breed/dog) die, the tears well up in my eyes and I let out a choked sob, before whipping my phone out and taking a picture before posting it on twitter with the caption

"nobody wants a lonely Christmas but I'm about to call it quits with you. Breaking up is at the top of my wishlist and baby you don't have a clue."

I flip my phone to show Lando with a smirk plastered on my face. "So, what'd ya think?" I question as I post it and wait a few seconds before twitter starts going absolutely nuts. " wait wait let me read you some of the comments I'm getting, 'slut4ln' says 'NO MOM AND DAD PLEASE STOP FIGHTING' haha look, here's another 'mother/n' said 'mother always knows wtf is up, Lando Norris count your days' !!" the chuckles leaving my lips are loud

"I think that I don't know how to respond to that on twitter," Lando says with a faint chuckle "here, how about you take my phone, type out what you want me to say and then let me read it before posting it." a smirk evident on his face as he hands me his phone, before putting said hand on my thigh, rubbing it up and down.

"What about this...?" I question as I'm typing

"You say our relationships fading and you've been thinking bout leaving and though I know it's the truth I just don't want to believe it. You've gotta be kidding me, are we really breaking up? We just picked out a tree, damn."

"Okay Y/N/N lets give it a second to spread, we have to get juicy comments before we keep going, oh. never mind. George is texting me asking me what the fuck I did and why am I arguing twitter about it"

"fuck it, ignore him. we need to make this believable." I say swiping George's message away. "Opinion on this?"

"wait wait, let me tweet something else before you tweet y/n/n. Here, read this"

"You haven't even left yet and I miss you. I was looking forward to the holidays with you. How could you do this on Christmas, girl that's so malicious? C'mon baby, please don't make me beg cause I can go and date your friend instead. Yeah, I'll put the nut in meg. But If you're thinking about leaving, then I already blew it. screw it, then I guess I'll have to beat you to it, bitch."

"OKAYYYY LANDOOOO LET ME STEP UP MY GAME!!!" I scream as I finished reading his reply after he hit tweet bouncing up and down on the bed in excitement.

"okay, okay what about this for me?" I question as I finish typing, turning my phone so Lando can read what I typed.

"I tell you I love you but I don't really mean it, cause after this Christmas sorry but I'm leaving you."

"I'm starting to feel like you're just soft launching a break up with us right now" Lando says "Why else would you gave suggested a fake twitter break up?"

"Baby, please. This is just for shits and giggles. AHH OH MY GOSH!! OSCAR'S CALLING ME" I screamed in panic as I declined the call. "Lando, I think you need to eat me up in the twitter beef again, put your pretty head to work and think of some insults for me."

"I'm almost done, but first I got a question. Why is it one week before Christmas you feel the need to mention a break up with me is in the process but still pending? Is it depending on your gift and what I'm spending? Or are you fishing for more compliments? Because to my astonishment, you're acting like little kid. Was it something I said?Sometimes my head stops thinking, when I say some stupid shit to you, you know I don't mean it, it's just the season, it's confusing, can we just get along?"

"LANDO MY COMMENTS ARE GOING CRAZYYYY! LOOK" I giggle in excitement as I flip my phone so he can scroll through the comments

slut4ln: MOM AND DAD PLEASE STOP! CHRISTMAS IS RIGHT AROUND THE CORNER AND I CAN'T DEAL WITH A DIVORCE RN

georgeswhore: I wake up from a nap to SEE THESE?!?!?!?!

leclercsgf: What the absolute fuck did they fight about that THEYRE BEEFING ON TWITTER FOR AND AIRING OUT A POTENTIAL BREAKUP???

>y/nforpresident: potential? honey I think they are done

Landoslefttoe: Lando kinda ate mom up though 😭😭

LewisHamilton: Answer your fucking phones now!

CharlesLeclerc: LANDO?? YOU CALL YOUR GIRLFRIEND "BITCH"??

CarlosSainz: Cabron, call me asap and fill me in

LoganSargeant: Does this mean I actually have a chance with Y/n?

"I'm choosing to ignore Logan's comment," Lando said flipping my phone back so I could read it. "When are we gonna go public and say it was a prank?" Lando asks as he readjusts himself on the bed, pulling me down and closer to him so we're cuddling

"We can tell them all tomorrow" I yawn as I cuddle closer to my boyfriend "goodnight handsome"

"Goodnight precious" lando whispers as he kisses my temple

<333333

idk what this is but 🎀😗

@luckyladycreator2 @itsmiamalfoy @jeffs77 @ilivbullyingjeongin @forevercaffeinated-lee @daemyratwst @gulphulp @callsignwidow @f1wintermoon13 @teenwolf01 @victoriassecret101.

https://docs.google.com/forms/d/e/1FAIpQLSesvRpKqBaYY-Ow5IgHoD0gSX6OzJ03qGMXOhHUI6Xg1wfKaA/viewform.

#f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #formula 1 #formula one #lando norris #lewis hamilton #prank #lando norris fanfic #lando norris imagine #lando norris smut #lando x reader #mclaren #charles leclerc #f1 smau #f1 smut #mercedes #logan sargent fluff #logan sargeant

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artoodeetootired · 21 days

Text

lowkey

📖 an f1 driver and a singer are both known for being beasts in their respective fields, but everyone knows they are ironically the shyest in reality- especially when it comes to attraction. they were hidden out of respect for their privacy, until they realised loving shouldn't be a secret.

💭 op!81 x fem!singer (smau)

🎧 lowkey - niki

🃏masterlist🃏

🫧“us in a king size, keep it a secret. say i’m ur queen, but i don’t wanna leave this lowkey.” 🫧

p.s (let's pretend the qatar and las vegas gp's are rounds 10 + 12 of 24 respectively hehe)

ynuser

Tagged: bsfuser

ynuser so... been kind of busy lately...

Liked by sabrinacarpenter, bsfuser, landonorris, and 715,069 others

View all 14,088 comments

forynln U DISAPPEAR FOR 5 MONTHS AFTER UR LAST ALBUM AND POST OUTTA NOWHERE... girl u cannot keep doing this to us...

-> user1 lol watch her

-> user2 Bruh stfu she literally gave us a god sent album made of unicorn shit she doesn't owe u anything

bsfuser i hate you for telling me what's boutta go down but not let me say shit to anyone 😞

-> user3 it's ok bestie u can tell me, i won't tell anyone :)

ynluv How she is so different irl compared to her stage self still baffles me to this day.

-> user4 FR like wdym u gonna be busting out moves that get u viral then act like the sweetest creature on earth when u out here?? 😭

-> user5 duality go prr. she's probably the shyest celebrity i've ever seen.

-> user6 I can't believe she's an '03 baby.

gracieabrams omg ur orange cat

-> user6 car*

-> user7 car*

-> user8 luv u gracie

user9 orange suits yn so well

user0 lando is such a fanboy 😂

-> user| him and half the grid have been so consistent with promoting her LMAO

oscarpiastri posted a story 5m

Liked by logansargeant, landonorris, ynuser, and others

Replies

landonorris: would've been right next to u if stroll hadn't crashed again

mclaren: 👏🏼👏🏼👏🏼

user_: being very calm compared to ur reaction after lance's fiasco today LOL

logansargeant: LET'S GOOO

user@: wow our pastry posts after a century

alexalbon: oi why didnt you take lily's and my advice to post with yn's music if u asked us in the first place...

Twitter

Instagram

f1 Our special guest performer and new partner for the 16th round on our calendar, Las Vegas, has been confirmed; a little fun before the racing begins! We bet you guys will like this one... 🤭

Until then, round 11 in Netherlands next weekend 🇳🇱 Stay tuned!

Liked by rihanna, katyperry, ynuser, and 795,392

View all 6,204 comments

user! omg i have been waiting for this

f1forlife istg if they bring out the same performers as before...

fanacc the amount of singers liking this post is really fucking with us LOL

alexalbon hi f1 pls tell me u listened to us and booked the grid's voted fav 😸

-> charlesleclerc agreed.

-> maxverstappen1 agreed.

-> landonorris @oscarpiastri and i will boycott.

-> oscarpiastri mate i didn't even vote.

-> landonorris okay fine but u do like yn/ln right? ...right? 🔪

-> oscarpiastri ...

-> landonorris dw everyone osc's just shy no need to cancel him

-> danielricciardo 💃🏽

-> lance_stroll wait there was a vote?

Twitter

Instagram

ynuser

ynuser switch up

Liked by racerbia, selenagomez, bsfuser, and 865,744 others

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forynln she's killing us and she knows it damn well

user pls just one hint 😭

user how do u feel about oscar piastri not liking u LMAO

arianagreenblatt gorg bestie 😩

user the aesthetic change is very sus

user ladies and gentlemen, the queen of singing, dancing, and gatekeeping

-> user the way we still pine after her and her whereabouts even though she is the most nonchalant pop girl out there

-> bsfuser she's cooking smth 🧐

-> frd2 yk smth dont u 🥸

2 weeks later...

Instagram

georgerussell63 posted a story 20sec

Liked by ynuser, f1, lewishamilton, and others

Replies

lewishamilton: why did i not see toto doing this????

ynuser: it was a pleasure meeting u too 🤠

f1: You boys are very welcome

totowolff: George...

-> georgerussell: please don't fire me

landonorris: ok but did u see the way she looked at me??

-> georgerussell lando, u know full well she was looking at someone else

-> landonorris shut up :(

-> georgerussell i will not allow u to ruin her with ur playboy antics

-> landonorris EXCUSE ME

landonorris and f1 🔁

Tagged: f1, ynuser, charles_leclerc, carlossainz55, georgerussell63, fernandoalo_official, maxverstappen1, and oscarpiastri

landonorris best. weekend. ever.

mini photo dump of the boys at the concert 'cause @ynuser actually performed for us 🤯🤯 we're such huge fans- it was epic meeting you!

Liked by racerbia, selenagomez, bsfuser, and 2,993,840 others

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landonorris p.s. oscar loves her, he's just shy

-> oscarpiastri lando u idiot

-> logansargeant i can confirm ahem

mclaren we advocated for this very hard, just so yk...

-> user0 the gods (you) have bestowed us simpletons (seriously) with such a blessing (yn and mclaren interactions)

-> userl for the whole grid? the fans? ...or a particular someone? 🤭

ynuser epic meeting me??? bro i almost fainted meeting u guys and drivers i've been a fan of since i was 10 😭😭😭

-> bsfuser how was it omg

-> ynuser LOL definitely an interesting experience...

-> landonorris omg she replied 😭

-> georgerussell bro she called u bro

user_ im convinced theyre music drunk and not substance drunk here 😮‍💨

ynuser

Tagged: f1

ynuser you all already know. this thread is as aesthetically chaotic as my mind rn.

thank you to my team for handling such a mess of me when since i got this invitation !! could not be here, or look this decent without any of u.

thank you to @f1 from the bottom of my heart. i've been such a fan since i was in nappies, nd you guys just made a dream of mine come true. from the races, new friends, to performing for such a crowd in vegas, it has been one of the most surreal weekends of my life. you all just know im gonna be clutching on to this partnership for as long as i breathe. nd congrats to @maxverstappen1, @oscarpiastri, nd @charlesleclerc on the podium ! until next time 🏎💋✨

(last slide is real footage of me meeting toto wolff)

Liked by racerbia, selenagomez, bsfuser, and 2,408,274 others

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redbullracing thank you for stopping by our pit!

-> mclaren ok but she went to ours first

-> scuderiaferrari yeah... she liked us most though. should've seen her face when she walked in.

-> mercedesamgf1 you guys know she was a long-time mercedes fan before this right??

-> landonorris what is going on? (she definitely liked hanging out with us more)

-> logansargeant lol you're so delulu (laughed way harder with my group)

oscarpiastri thank you too! we should hang out again sometime soon

-> landonorris 'hang out' pfft sure

-> user omg oscar commenting on a non-f1 person's post??? a FEMALE nonetheless????

-> oscarpiastri everyone has to chill fr

bsfuser that’s MY BESTIE

-> user she is GLOWING

-> ynimagine mommy??? sorry. mommy??? sorry.

-> user she is SNATCHED WTF

oscarpiastri

Tagged: danielricciardo, ynuser

oscarpiastri 2nd in vegas! amazing job to the team for this accomplishment, daniel for his dedication, nd yn, who we're all still star-struck by. cheers! 🍾

(credit to @pierregasly's story for second slide)

Liked by ynuser, f1, danielricciardo, and 1,329,866 others

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user guys istg i was in the paddock the whole time AND i know what i saw. so when i say they hit it off really well...

user omg oscar even picked up on her 'nd' habit 😭

ynuser 🧡🧡🧡

-> user u are actually an angel sent from the depths of hell in the best possible way. the setlist??? the body and face??? the personality???

landonorris oscar you... 😨 when did u even go to the front of the stage for that last pic????

lewishamilton cute, flirty, teenage stuff and all but are we not gonna talk about danny ric

-> danielricciardo i think we should just go back to gushing about oscar's crush

-> carlossainz55 his crush??? what am i missing????

-> charlesleclerc the baby has grown up

bsfuser 🤨

Tagged: ynuser

f1 yn appreciation post 🤍🤍🤍

Could not have asked for a better performer and partner to grace us with her presence this weekend 👏🏼

Liked by ynuser, mclaren, oscarpiastri, and 3,071,008 others

View all 30,729 comments

user my timeline is EXPLODING

user converting f1 fans into yn fans too

landonorris slay

-> danielricciardo slay

-> pierregasly slay

-> alexalbon slay

-> lewishamilton what is 'slay'?

-> charlesleclerc slay

-> maxverstappen1 slay

ynuser thank u thank uuu

-> user9 queen what were u on tonight??

-> {user} not even her debut was this hype 💀

ynworld STEP ON ME

f1__grid bruh this is so unecessary... she clearly just wants attention

-> user# stay pressed ur favs like her more than u <3

Twitter

3 weeks later...

oscarpiastri posted a story 10sec

Liked by ynuser, mclaren, maxverstappen1, and others

Replies

user: soooo wonder who took this photo 🧐

user: u guys got smth to tell us? ;)

alexalbon: why do u look depressed today

landonorris: where are u bro

user: what's ur fav yn song?

ynuser: im sorry i can't make it today osc :(

-> oscarpiastri: it's okay, best to let everyone cool down anyways. i'll see u next week?

-> ynuser: i promise :)

1 week later...

ynuser posted a story 30sec

Liked by bsfuser, f1, oscarpiastri, and others

Replies

lewishamilton: ayeee my fav coming over to the pit today?

-> ynuser: i wouldn't miss it for the world 😸 plus fans are dying to know how u pick ur fashion sense out

-> lewishamilton: oh lord

f1: 🤍

landonorris: pls be kind with the question this time :(

-> ynuser: aweeee

-> ynuser: no.

oscarpiastri: wya??

3 more weeks later...

oscarpiastri posted a story 16sec

Liked by nicolepiastri, mclaren, danielricciardo and others

Replies have been disabled

ynuser posted a story 37sec

Liked by bsfuser, f1, nicolepiastri, and others

Replies have been disabled

1 month, 3 races, and 2 performances later...

~3 months later...

oscarpiastri

Tagged: ynuser

oscarpiastri i can't take it anymore. since u guys have wanted to know, anyway.

you've been on my mind since the day i met you (nd yes, admittedly since lando showed me your music videos), nd then when i met you with the biggest crush, i quickly decided that you are one of the most talented, beautiful, kindest people ever. fuck all if i just got my first win, it wouldn't have meant anything without u. i can't have asked for a better partner in crime to wear my number at the races.

although we've been pretty great at keeping it low key these past few months to just family and friends, i wanna show you off, my love x

Liked by ynuser, landonorris, mclaren, and 5,329,866 others

View all 35,853 comments

oscarpiastri also, ty to the grid for keeping it private, nd yes, i will be treating u all for dinner.

-> danielricciardo LFGGGGG

user oh my god.

jennaortega the question is if she beat him at karting

-> oscarpiastri she did...

carlossainz55 i never thought this day would come

landonorris cant put both my happiness and bewilderment that you actually hard launched into words

-> georgerussell character. development.

user ONE OF MY FAV SINGERS BECAME MY FAV WAG TOO AHHHHHHHH

arianagrande y'all cute asf 😭😭😭

user I CALLED IT

-> user nah dont u lie we all thought we were lying to ourselves LMAO

bsfuser one wrong move and i’ll send stroll to do more than just hit u on track 😺

-> oscarpiastri ;-;

-> maxverstappen1 u could send any one on the grid to do it, and they'd be happy to

user they're so in love im bawling

landonorris just so u guys know, his three sisters steal her away from him every week to hang out LOL

-> oscarpiastri that was totally unecessary

-> nicolepiastri give the ppl what they want ossie

Comments on this post have been limited.

ynuser

Tagged: oscarpiastri

ynuser sike.

'orange suits yn so well'... damn right for him 🧡

this man has inspired me in too many ways, that aside from teaching me how to love and be loved. it's been pretty hard having all these memories, but not being able to live them freely because of the pressure. but i wouldn't do it with anyone else. so im gonna be 'showing you off' in my latest single, agora hills, coming out tomorrow night for my love's first win x

(to clarify, f1 has allowed me to take ONE side ONCE, so im not jobless :) ... yet)

Liked by oscarpiastri, dojacat, bsfuser and 6,001,685 others

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frd1 about fucking time

oliviarodrigo this is so cute omg

alexalbon ahem i think i should get some credit for being the ultimate matchmaker here

-> f1 actually, i think it all goes to us.

-> user 💀

logansargeant THE LAST PHOTO PLS SEND IT TO ME LMAO

gracieabrams omg him with her cat 😭😭

-> user gracie, luv, it's car*

-> user car*

-> sabrinacarpenter dw babes i don't get this shit either

user oscar first win AND yn new music AND hard launches from the softest ppl ever??? has the universe finally decided to bless me???

user they were literally meant to be

user what happened to the shy versions of themselves oml

tatemcrae the hottest, most sincere, and talented celebrity couple rn

bsfuser and i was there to witness it all 😌

-> charlesleclerc so was i

-> bsfuser i was first tho

-> charlesleclerc fair enough

-> landonorris i was there the most

-> bsfuser i was their couple counsellor

-> landonorris i was their matchmaker

-> alexalbon NO YOU WERENT

-> bsfuser i was first to find out

-> landonorris no you werent

-> landonorris right? @oscarpiastri @ynuser

-> landonorris RIGHT????

Comments on this post have been limited.

ynuser

Tagged: oscarpiastri

ynuser for u, ur first win, and to many more.

as an extra for u all, 'lowkey' is also out to show my progression from wanting to keep it a secret to having him make me scream his name <3 hope u love us as much as i do.

Liked by oscarpiastri, dojacat, bsfuser and 6,581,921 others

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user the caption???????????????????

user holy shit mother is mothering and father is fathering because never have i ever heard her make a track with sm detail about her partner in it...

-> user FR like where did the two of them go?? almost 8 months but they come back like they've aged a decade

-> user NO CAUSE WTF is 'suck a little dick in the bathroom, who that man with the big strong hands'???? miss yn??? are the both of u feeling okay????

-> user you'd think introvert + introvert = coma, but ig double negatives still apply here

dojacat bitch these tracks SLAP

user okay but osc's guns 👀

sza god, when will this shi happen to me?

mclaren All ur songs on repeat in the paddock.

-> mercedesamgf1 It's true, all the teams agreed

-> redbullracing (the only time we all agree)

user how tf did we get bashful yn and blushing osc to... this??

-> ynuser life's full of mysteries.

landonorris i miss the person i was before hearing these two songs...

-> georgerussell it's true, as big of a fan i am of the two of u, some things are meant to stay between ppl...

-> charlesleclerc i am not saying anything, which means i can get invited to the wedding, yeah?

-> ynuser yes.

-> oscarpiastri yes.

Comments on this post have been limited.

a/n: as u can probably see, i lowkey gave up half way cause i never realised how much work this takes :,)

#oscar piastri #lando norris #mclaren #f1 #oscar piastri x reader #smau #oscar piastri smau

549 notes · View notes

hazelfoureyes · 29 days

Text

⟢Alastor x Cupid FemReader Tasked with making a demon believe in true love or you can’t return to heaven, things immediately go off the rails when you hurt yourself and Alastor catches one of your most troubling arrows; Mania

˚₊ · »-♡→ Week 1 and Week 2

˚₊ · »-♡→Week 3 and Week 4 smut💦 (keep reading)

Alastor lets you leave the hotel! Together! For soup. Later, your plans to make Alastor lose his obsession backfire. But like, in a hot way so you’re not that mad about it. A+ for effort?

˚₊ · »-♡→Week 5, Week 6, Week 7, and Epilogue smut💦

「warnings/promises: smut, I once again misuse a fucking prayer in a sacrilegious way, soup, spoon feeding, Angel texts, so much cum, bondage, tentacles, just good ole fashion fucking in the radio station, not quite dubcon but Alastor doesn’t really listen, hell has twitter and lets be real it’s just normal twitter, giant Alastor, Horse Luci」

Minors DNI ♥️ 🧹lovingly

You finally managed to leave the hotel. It was of course with Alastor at your side, microphone pressing into the small of your back like a third arm. It was as if he worried you’d just turn around and run.

He opened every door, pulled out your chair, and when your left hand shook and dropped your food he took on the task of feeding you. It was embarrassing, to say the very least. The sinners in the restaurant staring, a brave few filming or typing furiously on their phones.

You got a buzz on your own cell, a gift from Angel when he realized Alastor wouldn’t let you speak with others alone.

He texted a link to a post on some hell site, to a photo of you right then, at that exact moment, being spoon fed by the radio demon. You considered smashing your head into the table until you blacked out. If you got up and left would you make it back to the hotel before someone realized you weren’t a sinner? You were absolutely terrified of someone noticing you as heaven sent.

Heaven kicked? Heaven thrown. Yeah that one felt right.

“You need to eat. You can’t heal like this.” Alastor sounded concerned, but you fought the urge to care.

He hadn’t apologized to Husk, but Husk did say Alastor seemed to avoid eye contact which was basically a gift to him. Alastor had come to your room to dress you the next day as he always did, neither of you mentioning the day before. The hall was magically pristine by the time you left.

A tiny sliver of you thought he felt embarrassed. But decades of experience told you that Mania didn’t afford embarrassment, the stricken couldn’t be truly manic if something like that was holding them back.

Maybe it had been such a shallow cut he hadn’t gotten the full punch of Mania?

Another attempt to feed yourself, slowly bringing your spoon to your mouth, “You know when I heal I am going to finish my task and leave, right?”

An odd laugh, a non-existent tear wiped away, “Adorable. No. I promise you, that won’t happen.”

“Alastor.” You put the spoon down with a clink.

“I love when you say my name. May I offer you more reasons to hold it in your mouth?”

“Al-,” you groaned, “I can’t stay forever.”

He hummed, a show of pretending to think about what you said, “Wrong! You can. And I argue, you will.”

You tried again with the spoon, regretting soup. Your appetite had been shot for awhile and it seemed easy enough. Wrong. Again. There was a constant tremble to your hands since arriving. Perhaps experiencing pain for the first time was rattling your body so much that it couldn’t cope. “Why would I ever do that? This is literal hell.”

Alastor leaned over, taking the spoon from you with ease and bringing it to your mouth, “Because I’ll make you understand it’s where you belong. They didn’t appreciate you,” his grin widened, “Not like I do. Like I can, if you’d let me.”

Annoyed and flustered, you took the help to eat. “Thank you.” A spoonful, “How can you say that though? I’m the one and only Cupid.”

“Actually, no. You’re not. You are just the current incarnation. They’ll replace you.”

You regretted telling him that. They could. Just replace you, that is. There was nothing stopping them. You stared into your soup, lips curling down.

“Don’t look so defeated. I’ll make you happy, for eternity.”

Your eyes rolled. “When do you plan on starting that eternal happiness?”

You didn’t look at him when you said it, but you could see his hand slow, then become completely still. Had you wounded him?

He pivoted, “Doesn’t Cupid have wings?”

Another spoonful, “Of course.”

Alastor waited while you took a drink, determined to make you eat the entire bowl, “Where are they?”

A pause. Where were they? You hadn’t realized you couldn’t feel them. They weren’t everpresent, but their weight still sat between your shoulder blades at all times. Always. Normally. But now?

“You don’t know? That’s troubling.” Alastor read your face with ease.

You shot him a look. Stop doing that. Stop replying to unspoken thoughts.

“Apologies.”

Another text before you could snap at him.

You slid the phone away from Alastor, face red. “Do you think, honestly, if you’re capable of it, that I’ll ever be able to go home?”

His hand came to your neck, running over your collarbone, “For the record, I’ve never once lied to you.” You rolled your eyes, fine, okay, “With your heavenly body, even as weakened as you have been here, I’d say just a few more weeks.”

You turned the phone face down.

“Good…that’s good. If you plan on winning me over, your countdown has started.” You pushed the soup away, appetite gone. The idea of never returning to heaven made you nauseous. He slid it back to you, face stern despite the smile he wore.

The walk home was quiet, your stomach full of unwanted soup.

No, not home. The hotel.

He usually spoke a lot, clearly loving the sound of his own voice. His hand replaced the staff, settled on your back as he guided you. You could feel the warmth through your clothes. How could he be so hot and not be sweating? Another sinner thing?

The thought hadn’t left you by the time you came into view of the hotel gates. Maybe you had been replaced. How would you know? Maybe that was why your wings were gone. Surely there was some way to communicate from hell.

You found Lucifer as soon as you returned, unbothered by Alastor’s presence, “I need to speak to heaven.”

Alastor was saying something but you had gotten quite good at tuning him out. Lucifer snapped back, the men quickly devolving into arguing again.

“Lucifer.” You said it with your chest.

His apple topped cane whirled, a golden circle appearing with a crystal clear image of heaven’s glowing gates through its center.

A loud noise erupted behind you, a high pitched static wail, familiar tentacles flailed and a long shadow of a growing Alastor stretched across the wall. His back was bent into the lobby ceiling, perhaps three stories tall now.

The sounds of magic popping as Lucifer shapeshifted accented the sounds of horror with that of whimsy. You approached the portal, those black tendrils slithering around your ankles but you easily slipped out of them as their owner's energy was pulled to full demon Lucifer slamming into him.

Almost, you could see it.

A monstrously large hand came down, shaking the hotel and knocking various objects off their perches in the lobby. Charlie and Vaggie, someone else you’d come to enjoy the company of, flew down the stairs.

The common area was filled with the sounds of yelling and breaking glass. You crawled over his hand as Alastor’s fingers curled around your body gingerly. He tried to pull you from the gateway but while he slowed, Lucifer now a flying horse kicking him in the face, your outstretched hand strained to enter the portal.

Your fingers grazed the doorway, the air around the lobby fizzing and warping as a desperate screech tore from Alastor’s wide and impossibly thin chest. The grip tightened around you. A static whine threatened to pop your eardrums.

As your fingertips pressed past the ring, they stopped. Something impenetrable and unseen between you and heaven.

Alastor must have noticed it too, his grip loosening as you clamored on hand and knees to the portal. Your palm ran over the doorway, searching for a hole or seam to rip. Just under your skin was your home, bright and clean and painless. A tiny ‘no’ fell from your lips, smacking at the barrier with your open hand.

Alastor returned to his normal, still terrifying, height. Lucifer came forward, their fight losing motivation, his small hand on your shoulder as you sat on the hotel lobby floor. He closed the portal and apologized, “Sorry kid. Let’s try again when you finish that task, okay?”

Alastor’s arms went under your back and knees and lifted you off the ground. You didn’t resist or argue. Your eyes were unfocused, vision blurry with tears, as you were carried past the others. Vaggie looked ashamed, which was odd given she had more character than half the archangels could muster together between them.

There existed permissions for who could enter the heavenly realm, a list meticulously kept. They’d removed you from that roster. They’d locked the doors behind you.

You felt good. The final week of your first, and hopefully last, month in hell was marked with taking off your sling for the first time.

A good three day wallow in a metaphorical cave helped you emerge with renewed vigor. Of course they locked the gates behind you, otherwise you’d just go home. That made sense. That made sense.

That had to make sense.

Deciding to take a risk and attempt to expedite your homecoming, you and Angel made plans. Like a teenager in a party movie you snuck out of the hotel when Alastor was asleep. Well, so you assumed. You weren’t really sure what he did behind closed doors.

Angel brought you somewhere he felt people would be receptive to discussing love and talking to angelic beings, and admittedly also very high.

Sling off but still being as gentle as you could, you leaned across the small standing-only table to talk-shout with a rather cute aquatic demon. An eel? Or maybe some kind of water-fond lizard? It didn’t matter, his glasses were cute, both of you a little drunk, and you quite good at saying the right things.

And all of the right things were said, and you felt maybe if nothing else you’d enjoy your first demonic lay, when the power shut off.

Everyone filed out, bummed and bothered to find most of the neighborhood shrouded in darkness.

Angel tapped your shoulder and pointed up the hill to the hotel, radio station a glow with a red light, “Ya know, I wouldn’t be surprised.” Nothing to do but to stare, you stayed quiet and angry while he flagged down a taxi knowing the trip would be fast without traffic lights, “Guess Daddy Dead Eyes is calling you back.”

Anger grew and grew in your chest as you were charioted home.

Jesus, to the hotel. Stop doing that.

You burst into the radio station tower, Alastor barely reacting. Until, that is, you marched up to his desk.

Pinned before you could react, his body pressing into yours as your ass ran up onto the desk.

“Sneaking out like a child?” His voice was low, soft, unnatural. “Why do you intentionally torment me?”

“I have done,” you tried to move but only succeeded in rubbing your stomach against his crotch, “no such thing. You’re just possessed.”

He responded by pressing forward, no accident, as his eyes narrowed on you, “Correct. I am a man possessed.” When he rolled himself into you, an alcohol primed groan escaped your mouth.

“I thought you didn’t care about those things,” your eyes flashed to his lap pushing into you and then back to his glare.

“You’re my exception that proves the rule. If you’re so desperate for attention there’s no need to leave the hotel to find it.” His smile was poisoned by the simmering anger in his eyes, “Dear.”

It was the alcohol and annoyance at losing a chance with glasses-man, Jake or Jark or something not worth a scrabble move, that made you sneer a reply, “Not yours. I am a divine creature, demon. Your body would just filthy me.” Nose up, feeling absolutely better than him in every sense, you pushed him off and left.

That was easy. Wow.

Proud of yourself, you made it to the elevator before you realized— illusions. Perhaps his illusion was the idea sex with you was worth the effort, more so than others. He said it himself before, he didn’t care for such things. Perhaps if you could show him it was as boring and unattractive as sex with anyone else could be, maybe you could shatter his mania with disappointment.

You pulled a u-turn and heel-toed right back into his station. Giving him no time to react this time, you climbed onto his chair and straddled him, “On second thought, try your worst. Let’s get it out of your system and move on.” You ground your hips down. He only smiled up at you, amused. Taking his hands you set them on your waist, giving him permission to handle you, “Claim me. Make everyone know I’m yours.” He didn’t move. You were starting to feel embarrassed, had he goaded you just to make you look stupid? He would. But your kind invented the tension before sex between enemies, “If you can.”

That did it. His hair visibly stood on end, “It is not a matter of ability. It’s about-”

“If you can’t, that’s fine. No need to start lying to me now. But don’t say I never gave you the opportunity.” You smirked, hoping he enjoyed a taste of his own sardonic medicine, and lifted yourself off of him.

His hands came to life on your hips, helping you rise and then flipping you onto your stomach. Your arms pushed radio transmitters and various old timey fuckery away to make room for yourself.

Those talons slipped up the center of your bottoms and crooked into your underwear. Long and strong, his fingers felt you. “Is this a perk of a heavenly body or is this,” two fingers dipped into your already wet and relaxed entrance, “all for me?”

You fought the urge to respond with anything other than malice, “Don’t flatter yourself.”

In heaven no one needs preparation, no one needs lube or required stretching to keep things whole and fun. You would love to say that quality followed you down, but unfortunately, like perfect health and angelic wings, it had not.

You decided to chalk it up to the alcohol. Always an easy excuse to offer yourself.

Alastor’s hands pulled away and up, finding the place just above the Rosie’s Emporium clothing tag and ripping the bottoms and underwear clean in half.

You bit into your hand to keep your excited shriek to yourself but unfortunately couldn’t stop your legs kicking up. His laugh echoed off the many windows.

Why couldn’t he be worse at this? Why couldn’t Alastor be clumsy and meek and awkward at sex? No, the menace you’d gotten almost used to was confident and commanding, you felt yourself twitching in anticipation. People have a misconception that Cupid was a chaste and wholly emotional creature, which was false. First of all, Cupids varied based on the incarnation. Just like other heavenly creatures their personality was varied and unpredictable.

Personally, you weren’t suited for the job. If you were honest. Why couldn’t your quiver just be full of Eros and Agape? Even of those two, sexual love was more your speed. Romance was fine and lovely but perhaps you’d gotten a little jaded.

Luckily for you, fucking Cupid was something many winners had on their afterlife bucket lists and you rarely found yourself with an empty bed.

Your attention was stolen back, Alastor’s clawed hand grabbing at the flesh of your thighs, “Oops.”

Focus. Why were you doing this again? Your system was metabolizing the alcohol now, and with the air cooling off your exposed sex, everything was awash with lust. Did you want to diminish his mania or were you just horny?

Would it really be so bad to admit you were both?

Deep breath, you remembered. Boring. Banal. The plan was to be motionless and not provide him any satisfying sounds. Don’t touch him, don’t try to push back on him, no tricks or fancy shit. The sooner he was over this you could make someone trust in love and fuck off home.

Seconds turned to a minute, your ass in the air as Alastor’s hands pawed at your skin. You wanted to ask what the hold up was, but you didn’t want to give away how much you were needing him to just fuck you already.

“Do you miss flying?”

You looked around, were you so drunk you missed an entire chunk of conversation while thinking about how to hide thirsting for his dick?

“Yes…?” True statement.

“Allow me to help with that.”

There was a moment you half expected to be chucked out the window, but almost worse than that, you heard him seat himself in the chair again before your body was picked up and off the desk. “Alastor! I don’t-,” Hands flailing, feet moving around the best they could, you struggled against the familiar tentacles he had command over. “I do not allow it!”

Your hands batted at them fruitlessly. One came under your knees and folded them to either side of your chest before wrapping around your waist twice, a second across your chest like a seatbelt snug and secure. Had you been on the floor you could almost be mistaken for taking a deeply devout praying stance. Only your arms were free to move, the position making you open and incapable of taking back any semblance of control.

“Alastor!” Stretching, you could almost reach the edge of his work table, but your fingers and toes curled in as you were seated on something hot and stiff. Your lips quivered, desperate to keep silent as you were pulled down onto him. Reaching back your hands found his stomach, raking your nails across the skin in need of anything to grip.

When you heard him chuckle to himself, you knew you were already losing. Plan backfiring entirely. You pulled your hands back to your center, taking ahold of the tentacle nestled between and across your chest.

“Heavenly Father,” his voice was quiet but sure, your eyes so wide you worried you’d get stuck making a permanent face of utter shock and despair, “bless us and these thy gifts which we receive from thy bountiful goodness, through your name, our lord.” You were lifted off his lap, Alastor’s swollen tip dragging along your unstretched walls as he said the Lord's prayer, “Amen.” Pulled back down before the second syllable even reached your ears, you cut into your bottom lip as a scream bounced around behind your teeth.

Heathen.

“I would think you of all people knew how to finish a prayer.” Alastor chided, “What will heaven say?”

If heaven knew you were being impaled midair on an overlord’s cock, they’d create a second hell for you to rule. Population of none. Except maybe some horny nuns.

As he found a pace he seemed happy with, slow and long draws out of you, you realized how fucked you were. Looking down, you could see one of his hands was settled at the base of his cock, those long fingers draped down his balls. The other hand was unseen and unfelt.

“Alastor.” You tried to sound stern.

“Oh I doubt heaven knows my name. Not yet at least.” He sounded unbothered, almost unaffected. “Not until I’ve spirited away their little angel of love.”

You were almost insulted at how easily he could speak despite being buried so far into your wet, hot cunt. Maybe you had been spoiled in heaven, people usually so turned on by the idea of you that they were coming undone as soon as you were wrapped around them or in them in whatever way you decided.

A broken chant of “be bored, be bored,” in your mind as Alastor hummed, that mystery clawed hand falling at your back. Biting your lip, you tried to think about anything other than how full he was making you. Did the glasses man at the club have a cock as thick as Alastor’s? Would you have been as satisfied as you were now? Every down thrust made the tuft of fur at this base press against your ass. Soft. You wanted to grind against it, the idea pulling a wanton moan out.

Fuck. Failing to distract yourself because you got distracted. It was so hard to think about anything else than your body being pushed open again and again. The blood on your lips was sweet, licking them clean before finding a new spot to bite down on. Quiet.

“Ah, are you giving me the silent treatment?”

Could this son of a bitch read minds? Could sinners read minds?!

If you didn’t reply, that was confirmation. But if you did reply, you were breaking your goal of not talking.

“Just…,” you took a deep sigh, knowing this was going to be rough, “I’m not really feeling like making any noise.” A shrug, the best you could manage at least while bound and held aloft in the space above his lap. Pretending this was normal and boring was a feat. “I’m not a vocal person during sex. I prefer to just lie there and get serviced. Don’t mind me.”

That sounded awful. Perfect.

“Oh? Well then, I guess I’ll not worry myself.” You could hear the smile in his voice. Less perfect. He began to hum a little tune as your body, partially upright, was now being tilted forward at a 45 degree angle from his lap. His cock was bending in you, head pressing harshly up into your walls.

Heart beating so fast you felt a dizzy spell hit you, that renewed anticipation almost as arousing as the sensations.

His humming continued like he was reading the paper. You’d never ridden a roller coaster, but you’d seen many people do it before and this was surely the same feeling; right at the peak before the drop. When the ride operator stills you and lets you stare down at the height before you. Your stomach was flipping, excitement tinged with fear.

You were pulled off his dick until you felt the bell of his red tip get just outside your entrance. Was he going to pull out entirely?

No. He pulled you down by way of shadows and fucked you just a couple inches into your cunt. His head was dragging out past your tight hole and smashing back in, directly hitting your g-spot. The spongy bundle of nerve endings was dented with every thrust.

You weren’t used to having your entrance stimulated so much, the skin luckily becoming slick as your own wetness was fucked out of you.

“That feels weird, please.” How quickly you gave up. “Stop pulling out like that.”

A considerate sigh, “But you’ve gotten so wet, my dear. You’re dripping down my thighs already. I don’t think you want me to stop.”

Could you cum like this? You felt like you could, maybe if you just…you quickened your breath, faster and faster. Your stomach heaving, you felt the crescendo of pleasure.

“On second thought!” He stopped.

Your toes wiggled, hands gripping the tentacle on your chest. Quiet. Shh. Don’t argue. Boring. Don’t care. The building orgasm waned, you felt your blood pressure lower. This really was hell.

Alastor’s head was just sitting in you, burning hot and throbbing. You were sure you could feel his heartbeat.

You two were locked in a standoff. Someone had to let on they were enjoying themselves; Alastor releasing pent up frustration with your attitude toward his affections, you chasing down a rare penetration-only orgasm.

An idea struck you, a way to hopefully antagonize him and bruise his pride enough to force him into your hand (pussy), “Thank God. I think it’s almost my bedtime.”

Alastor’s smile strained, a twitch coming over his left eye. A trap. But the idea of letting you down and off of him seemed far worse than the small defeat you were offering. “Allow me to rock you to sleep then, sweetheart.”

Success! Shit!

You reached out, the angle of your punishment allowing you to grab the edge of the table and grip. Alastor’s annoyance translated to an inhuman pace, him pulling you off entirely from his cock before bringing you back down. He was positively slipping in and out of you, your lower lips puffy and soaked around him. This degree of wetness was something you couldn’t remember feeling outside of marathon sessions.

When your hands tightened, a shock of pain tore down your arm, a scream bringing Alastor to a sudden stop. “My collar…” Pain was apparently not a kink you enjoyed, though you briefly wondered if heaven allowed it at all.

You couldn’t even fuck properly. You couldn’t do anything right. All you managed to do was fail. A sting to your eyes as the air hit your welling tears. Did humans feel this pain often? Your body was righted and turned, you looked down to Alastor’s face as you were brought to him. He looked so soft, usual smirk a sweet toothless smile, “I told you to keep the sling on, didn’t I?” He looked happy.

Your arms found his shoulders and your head came to his chest, “Shut up and finish already.” He didn’t release you from the binding, instead pulling the right arm under the hold of his slender tendril to keep it safe and out of the way. His hands were both at the base of his cock while you were gently riding him. Well, “you”. He was still using his powers to manipulate your body on and off of him. Alastor’s fingers were spreading your arousal down his shaft and along his tightening balls, if you had looked at his face you’d have seen a weakened man there, furrowed brows and lust drunk eyes. But you didn’t look, trying to hide the same expression on your own features.

Left hand free, no need to hold yourself up, you made lazy, and you hoped subtle, circles around your clit. You weren’t sure if this was a total failure or not, but you could finish and say something good came of it. You, specifically.

Things were quiet, though. The loudest sound in the room was the wet pop coming from where his body was meeting your sopping hole. His breathing was fast and soft, sighing when he bottomed out. Another bite to your lip, a few more deep hits to your cervix, and you enjoyed a small but satisfying release. The hand on you stayed through, riding out tiny waves of pleasure as you twitched around him. When you felt his release you sighed, you did it. You think. Maybe. Regardless.

As he slowly lifted you, you considered if your legs could hold you—

Up you went and back down you fell as he took a new, quicker pace.

“A-Ah-lastor?! You,” you bit your tongue, “already finished?”

You had made a mistake earlier that you hadn’t even realized. But Alastor had been holding it between his sharp teeth, “How many times?”

Absolutely no idea what he was talking about, you gasped out a reply, “What!?”

“How many times should I fill you before you’re too filthy to return to heaven, do you think?” He couldn’t be serious. “Three? Five? You see, the advantage of using my tentacles is that I don't get tired.”

Oh, but he was serious.

The battle was entirely forfeit somewhere around the third time he flooded you with his seed.

“These aren’t the usual screams I enjoy from my studio, but I’m not averse to them.”

When he felt you’d learned whatever lesson you were supposed to be taking in by the pump full, you were finally removed from him. He covered your lower half with his coat around your waist. It would be lying to say you were surprised to find his wide shoulders and small waist wasn’t just an illusion of his well tailored, yet oddly torn, coat. He was annoyingly attractive. Who gave him the right?

Your legs gave out when you tried to stand, warm hands pulling under your armpits to get you back on your feet. As much as you wanted to push him away, you were still a little tipsy and your legs still getting used to full blood flow. His arm held out for you to use for stability, you took it and wobbled silently to the floor you both lived on. Before you left the elevator you looked down and saw a line of white dripping down your inner leg. Took longer than you expected, honestly.

When you turned to the right to go to your door, his arm came around your waist and shepherded you to his room on the left. You shot him a look, asking what he thought he was doing.

He laughed, “Oh, after tonight’s little escapade, you’re moving!” He opened his door and gestured for you to enter, “Welcome home, my dear.”

What was worse than a failure? A catastrophe? This was that.

“Now come on, we need to get you cleaned up.” A hand patted softly at your ass before ushering you inside.

He did just that, wiping you down and undressing you before settling you into his bed. Exhausted and sore, you decided to argue after sleep.

When you awoke, you checked your shredded bottoms for your phone. Nothing.

An answer was found when you mentioned it to Alastor, who asked what you were searching for so early in the morning, “Perhaps someone at that venue you enjoyed has it? Too bad you can’t go back and ask.” He was resting his back against the headboard, you realized he’d unbuttoned his shirt quite a bit. “Oh well!”

How was he always making you scream?

ᡣ𐭩ˋ°•*⁀➷ masterlist

∰ Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult (general tag list):

@cxrsedwxrlds , @nonetheartist , @tsunaki , @janchei , @wettiny-in-smutland , @moonmark98 , @hoebihoeshi , @pansexual-opera-house , @polytheatrix , @lorddiabigmommymilkers , @backinthefkingbuildingagain , @harley2223-blog , @coffee-colored-hopeless-romantic , @poinappel , @midnightnoiserose , @spookieroz , @missmidorima , @ivebeenthearchersstuff , @downbadforfictionalppl , @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx , @sleepylittledemon , @aether-th3-enby , @dontfuckbutimfab , @breathlessaura , @aperfectidiot , @certainlygay , @jth12 , @star-kujo-platinum ,

@ivebeenthearchersstuffn, @rubyninja1 , @simphornies , @alleystore , @readergirlstuff , @berry-demon , @chirimeimei , @fairyv-ice , @olive-frog , @thonethatflies620 , @tiredkiwiii , @ilikemyteawithmilk , @whateverlololo , @psipies , @howabouticallyou , @roxxie-wolf , @ive-no-idea-what-to-call-this , @fizzled-phoenix , @fjorjestertealeaf , @phobophobular , @surusurusuru , @mariaclarade-la-cruz1 , @whateverlololo , @simplyonehellofanotaku , @xixflower , @i-am-nonbinary-bean-deal-with-it , @roxxie-wolf , @a-case-of-attachment , @multifandomfanatic02 , @watereddownmilk , @raynerrold , @crazii-saber-wolf , @valkyrie-expeditions , @bontensbabygirl , @sillyb0nez , @oo0lady-mad0oo , @jazzmasternot , @pseudobun , @fraugwinska✨, @alitaar , @straows , @alastorssimp , @angelicwillows , @b-o-n-e-daddy , @one-and-only-tay , @asleeponelmstreet , @tremendoushearttaco , @mutifandomkid , @sapphirecaelis , @itzzzkiramylove @saccharine-nectarine , @viannasthings , @looking1016 , @ultimate-duck-king-lucifer , @blakeaha , @astraechos , @reath-solia ,

🏹Alastor stalkers: @celestial-vomit , @amurtan

@faeoffaith , sailorsmouth , @jeannyjaykaydeh , @jyoongim , @cosmic-lavender , @saturn-alone , @lustylita , @radio-darling , @kaylopolis , @dickmastersworld , @leviskittywh0re

@asianfrustration13 @alittletiredcry @sirens-and-moonflowers @alastorssimp

#alastor x reader #alastor smut #alastor x you #alastor #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fandom #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #smut

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