#what race is he????i litterally do not know

[banjopolishh]

Tear you apart

cw: NSFW!!!! LIKE ALL NSFW. was originally called athoth a go!! go!! but this seemed better :-)

———-

Ford had been wanting to talk to his lover about the topic of sex, as they’d been dating for quite some time. He was terrified to bring it up, but he wanted to know how the Tennessean felt about it.

Today was the day Stanford was going to ask; he had candles lit all around the dorm, little flowers decorated the floor, the latest Beatles album, Abbey Road, playing softly in the background.

He purchased it a few days ago after it came out, as a little gift.

All of a sudden; Fiddleford came into the dorm room, quickly closing the door behind him.

“Hey, hun! I’m ba-“ Fiddleford fell silent as he stared at their transformed space, eyes widening.It was like walking into an enchanted forest.

“Stanford! Did you do all this!?” Fidds eyes darted around the room; taking notice of everything Ford had put together. This was all for him? He was stunned.

“Welcome back, darling.” Ford smiled, making his way over to the other man. He grabbed him gently by the waist and planted a kiss on his lips. Showing Fidds how much he loved him, was a top priority for the young scientist.

"What's the occasion, my love?" Fidds beamed, returning the kiss with a sigh of contentment. Their dorm had never looked so beautiful; typically, it reeked of weed and was littered with papers on the floor. But today, it smelled of incense and was beautifully organized.

“Come with me,” Ford spoke softly, grabbing Fidds hand, he led him over to their shared bed, both sitting down on the edge of it. Ford took a deep breath, tightening his grip around Fiddleford’s hand.

“I want to ask you something, okay? If you’re uncomfortable with any of it, let me know. We’ve been going out for some time, and, I’ve been.. thinking about things. I want to have intercourse with you.” Ford sighed, his face redder than a tomato. Was he saying this right?

“You want to have sex with me? Really?” Fiddleford gasped, he had fantasized about it for a lonnnng time, and now, Ford was finally asking.

"I have for a long time," Ford replied, his heart racing. He couldn't predict Fidds' response, but he knew one thing for sure - he loved him and would be happy no matter what."

“Of course, I do. I’ve been wantin’ the same! Just.. haven’t been able to find the words.” They laughed, obviously nervous. Ford let out a huge sigh of relief, he wasn’t the only one who was thinking about intimacy.

“Really?!I was actually afraid you would refuse. But of course, that would have been alright too! Oh no, I feel like such an idiot now.” The brunette with dark hair instinctively covered his face with his hands, feeling mortified by his own words.

“I know what ya mean, sugar! Don’t be embarrassed, I don’t know how to go about this, either. It’ll be my first time.” Fidds put his hand on Ford's shoulder, reassuring him with small gentle rubs.

“I have another question, this one slightly more embarrassing.” Ford mentally prepared himself for this one, expecting Fiddleford to be uncomfortable.

“Go on, hun.”

“Would you be alright with me filming? For learning purposes? I want to be able to keep track of everything that feels good for you.” Wow. Fiddleford was blown away, Stanford cared so much about his pleasure and comfort. Nobody else had ever treated him with such love and kindness.

“That would be swell, my love. I will admit, I’m nervous. Will ya promise to be gentle?” Fidds cupped his dearest’s face, looking deep into his eyes, he trusted Ford more than he even trusted himself.

“I promise to be gentle, Fiddlesticks. Wouldn’t want to break you in two, hm?” Ford smirked, kissing his boyfriend with passion. He had begun moving his hands up Fiddleford’s shirt, playfully caressing his sensitive sides.

“Would you mind if I grabbed the camera, darling? I’d like to get it set up before we get too excited.” Ford smiled and got up off the bed, rushing over to the closet, and grabbing a Sony Camcorder. He set the tripod up next to their bed, aiming it so each part of their bodies could be seen. Stanford turned it on, checking it closely to make sure the quality was good. Once it began filming, he made his way over to the bed once more.

“You’re for certain you’re okay with this, my star?” He climbed onto the mattress and nibbled at Fidds neck.

“You’re the only person I’ll ever be certain with, Stanford. Please don’t ever forget that.” The southerner moaned softly at the feeling of Ford’s teeth grazing against his neck.

Ford groaned at the sight of his lover, he needed him. He was going to take him, right there. He nestled his face into Fidds neck.

“May I remove your clothes, sweetheart?” The scientist whispered into the mechanic's ear, moving his hand slowly down Fidds small frame.

“Yes, please. I’m starting to get.. well,” The men looked down at Fiddleford’s lower half, he was fully erect.

“Jesus Christ, darling. You’re very excited, aren’t you?” Ford teased, hovering over Fidds and beginning to unbutton his shirt. Ford was doing his best to play cool, but internally he was freaking out.

“Always for you, sir,” Fidds flirted back, mustering up a small ounce of courage. Stanford's response only made him bolder as he yanked at Fiddleford's shirt, leaving a trail of purple and red marks on his bare chest.

“Oh, fuck, Stanford..” Fidds reached down to take off his pants but Ford pinned his hand back down onto the bed.

“Don’t,” Stanford breathed, trailing kisses along his lover's body until he reached Fiddleford's throbbing cock. He looked up at Fidds with a smirk as he unzipped his pants, ready to be enveloped in his boyfriend’s scent.

“Wowwww, look how big you’ve gotten for me, sweetheart. You’re so handsome.” Fiddleford hid his face with his hands, embarrassed by Ford’s praise. Stanford pulled down Fidds pants, then his boxers. Fiddleford moaned at the feeling of the cold dorm air blowing against his tip.

“Fuck, Ford, please touch me...oh, please touch me" Fiddleford moaned, thrusting his hips upwards, feeling his partner's hot breath against his skin. Fiddleford's constant moaning was driving Stanford insane. With a firm grip, Ford slowly moved his hand up and down the disheveled man's shaft, maintaining a steady pace.

“How’s this, baby? Look at the camera, show it how good I make you feel.” Stanford chuckled, watching as Fidds reluctantly turned his head, his eyes making contact with the machine. The idea of Ford watching the recording of their intimacy sent a shiver down his back.

“You’re so beautiful, Fiddleford. I cant wait to ruin you.” Suddenly, Ford took Fidds’ cock into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the tip.

“OH! Shhhhhiiit.. Oh, lord.” Fiddleford began bucking his hips into the six fingered man’s mouth, waves of pleasure hitting him. Ford watched as his lover’s eyes began to roll back. He laughed as his darling man, turned into a brainless doll before his eyes.

“Doing so good for me, Fidds. God..your dick is so cute. I’m shocked nobody’s tried to claim you in the past.” All Fiddleford could do is thrust into Ford’s hands. He couldn’t form a single word.

“Fuck, Fidds, I can’t take it anymore.” Stanford moved his hand away from Fiddleford’s cock, earning a whine of disapproval from him.

“Wha-What’re ya doin’?” Fiddleford watched with lustful eyes as Ford removed his own clothes. Ford, seemingly experienced, had NEVER had sex before. He was simply winging it.

“I’m sorry, Fidds. I just, I really need you.” Stanford crawled onto the desperate man’s body, grabbing Fidds’ face, forcing him to look into his eyes. Fiddleford shivered before Stanford pulled him roughly into a kiss.

“Ah.." The kiss soon became messy, their tongues finding their way into the others mouth. Soft grunts and moans filling the room.

Fiddleford's hands roamed over Stanford's broad shoulders and down his muscular back, reveling in the feeling of skin on skin. Their kisses grew more passionate and urgent as Stanford ground his hips against Fiddleford's, their erections rubbing together.

"Oh Lord, Stanford," Fiddleford gasped, breaking away from the kiss. "I need you so bad, darlin'. Please..."

Stanford nodded, his eyes half lidded with desire. "I've got you, sweetheart. Just relax for me."

He reached over to the nightstand and grabbed a small bottle of lube, coating his fingers generously. With gentle touches, he began to open Fiddleford up, watching his lover's face carefully for any signs of discomfort.

Fiddleford tensed at first at the unfamiliar sensation, but soon he was grinding gently against Ford’s fingers with pleasure. He had never felt something so strange - and so good - in his life.

“Look at how good you’re doing.” Stanford murmured softly. “So, So good..”

Ford carefully added another finger scissoring them gently, stretching Fidds further. The southerner softly moaned, his hands gripping the sheets.

“Ford, please,” Fiddleford whimpered, his accent becoming thicker with arousal. “Please, fuck me.”

Ford’s breath hitched at the desperation in his companions voice. He took his fingers out slowly, causing Fidds to whine at the loss. Stanford gave him a peck on the lips before grabbing some lube from the nightstand, slicking himself up.

“Are you sure, honey? You can always tell me if-”

Fiddleford quickly interrupted; “Stanford, I’m beggin’ ya, PLEASE fuck m-”

Slowly, carefully, Ford began to push in. His eyes darted all over Fidds’face, looking for any sign of discomfort. But Fiddleford just moaned, eyes fluttering shut as Ford filled him.

"Oh, darlin'..." Fiddleford gasped, his fingers digging into Ford's shoulders. The feeling of Ford inside him was overwhelming, a deep stretch that made his toes curl.

Ford groaned, the tightness around his dick was almost too much to bear. He stopped, giving Fiddleford time to adjust to his length. "You okay, sweetheart?" he whispered, pressing soft kisses to Fidds' face.

Fiddleford nodded, his breathing heavy. "Yes, yes, I'm fine. Please move, Stanford. I need you."

With a low growl, Ford began to thrust, slowly at first. He watched Fiddleford's face intently, drinking in every gasp and moan. The southerner's eyes were half-lidded, mouth hanging open in pleasure.

"You're so beautiful like this," Ford murmured, picking up the pace, groaning as he felt Fidds’ walls tighten around him. Jacking off never felt as good as his lovers’ insides.

Stanford's thrusts became more forceful, going deeper into Fiddleford with each motion. The room filled with the sounds of skin slapping against skin, followed by their shared moans and gasps.

"Oh god, Ford!" Fiddleford cried out, his back arching off the bed. "Right there, please don't stop!"

Ford angled his hips, hitting that spot inside Fiddleford over and over. He could feel himself getting close, the tight heat of Fidds' body overwhelming his senses.

"Fidds, I'm not gonna last much longer," Ford panted, his rhythm becoming erratic. He reached between their bodies to stroke Fiddleford's neglected cock.

The dual stimulation was too much for Fiddleford. With a strangled cry, he came, spilling over Ford's hand and onto his tummy."OH! Ohmystarsohmystarsohmy-” The sight of Fiddleford’s release caused Stanford to reach his own climax.

“Fidds! I’m coming, i’m coming inside..FUCK!” Ford wrapped Fidds’ legs around himself, making sure his seed reached deep.

Fidds’ legs shook as Ford came inside, he felt every single drop reach his center. He felt full.

Deep breaths replaced the moans; Ford pulled out slowly, watching closely as the cum slowly poured out of Fiddleford’s hole.

“W-Wow..That was..Wow.” He sighed, not even the most beautiful meteor shower could top this.

Ford cupped Fidds’ face, looking at his pink dusted cheeks. He looked so cute, so soft and tired.

“How’re you doing, sweetie? Feeling okay? Youre not in any pain are you?” A small bit of worry plagued his mind briefly, until Fiddleford silently wrapped himself around Ford.

“That was so amazing, that was so fuckin’ amazing..God, I’m so exhausted now..thank you for being gentle with me, hun.. you made me feel safe.” Fidds curled up on Stanford’s chest, reveling in the afterglow of intimacy.

“You did so good, honey! I’m very impressed with you. You felt absolutely incredible around me, I couldn’t help but give you my cum.” Ford smiled and planted a kiss onto his head.

“You.. are ya sure that was your first time? I felt like you were way more experienced than I am..” Fidds inquired looking at his boyfriend intently.

“I have never. I did.. quite a bit of research though. I’ve been looking at different techniques for gay couples, there’s.. a lot I had to learn.. but, it was worth it for you.”

“You made my first time so special, honey.. Did you have fun, too?” Stanford nodded and ran his hands through Fiddleford’s hair.

“I had so much fun watching you squirm beneath me, you were a sight to behold.” Fiddleford chuckled and pulled the blankets up over them, covering their naked bodies.

“I love you, Stanford.”

“I love you, Fidds.”

…..

“Is the camera still on?”

“Oh, shit!”

————

AUGHHHHHHHHHHHHB BLOWS UP

this took me for fucking ever oh my fod oh mygod

enjoy you FREAKS!!!

[pynkfairyheart]

pairings: eren x virgin!reader

warnings: smuuttt 18+

Stress Reliever

“Mama, calm down” Eren followed as you paced around the room, before plopping down onto the bed, a pout resting on your face.

“But Eren, what if I fail?” Tears of frustration building in your eyes. Tomorrow was the day you presented your capstone project, and reasonably you were stressing.

Eren had been doing his best to calm your nerves all week, giving you massages, making your meals, and helping you study. It just wasn't enough for you though, you were too nervous.

“Baby, you're not gonna fail, you're the smartest girl I know, and we've been over it a thousand times, I know you're gonna do great you just have to believe in yourself, baby”

“Let's just go over it one more time” You stood, immediately silenced when he lifted you up and laid you back down on the bed, hovering over you as he started to litter kisses onto your face.

“Stop worrying ma, you'll do great, just relax” His grip tight as his fingers dug into the flesh of your thighs, spreading them to make room for himself.

This simple action having your heart race. Despite being together for almost a year nothing happened between you two. Mainly because you both wanted to build a relationship that wasn't based on sex, but also because you were nervous. He was your first everything, and as gut wrenching it was to say, you weren't his.

“Eren” Your breath hitched as his bulge brushed against the crotch of the thin fabric that made up your pajama shorts.

“You gotta relax, ma. You gone let me help you?” He murmured as he kissed his way down your neck.

Maybe this is what you needed, your anxiety to just flow out of you with a mind boggling orgasm.

“Yes” You released a breath.

“Good girl” He smirked kissing you once more before he undressed you, savoring the way you squirmed underneath him.

“You're so beautiful, mami” He whispered as he took his time exploring every inch of your body with his hands and mouth before stopping right in front of your pajama clad pussy, traces of your arousal seeping through the fabric.

His fingers hooked around the waistband of your pants as he tugged them down, your clit slightly peeking out from behind your glistening folds.

“She's so pretty, baby,” He groaned, his thumbs spreading your folds apart as he pressed light kisses to your clit.

“Eren” You silently begged for more friction.

Indulging in your neediness he licked up a long stripe of your arousal. Strings of the fluid mixture connecting his tongue to your pussy.

“Shit, baby, you taste so good.” He dug his fingers into your thighs, burying his face into your folds.

His tongue flicked against your clit, teasing you with each lap before sucking softly, tongue swirling around the bud as your hips bucked. The flat muscle slurping up long stripes of your pussy.

“Fuck, Eren oh my god” You heaved, hands pushing the loose hair out of his face.

He hummed in approval, the vibration sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. The sound of his name leaving your lips only spurred him on as he sucked harder, teeth grazing the sensitive bud lightly.

“I'm so close, pa” You whined, looking down at him, his eyes closed as he ate you like a starved man.

Your thighs closed around his head as a response to the tightening knot in your tummy, the bite he delivered to your inner thigh releasing a yelp from your glossy lips as you opened them wide. The glare he sent your way turning you on more than it should.

“Let go mama, I'm here” His low voice muffled by your folds as he added a thick digit into your sopping pussy, walls clamping around it at the curl of his fingers and his tounge tracing a zigzag pattern on your clit, before he sucked on the pulsing bud.

“Papa” You cried as he slurped up the juices flowing from your pussy.

“Wait, pa, I can't- too much” You protested, thighs clamping around his head as he lapped at your pussy, sliding in another digit.

“Just one more ma, you taste so good” He licked the insides of your thighs, before pushing them up to your chest.

“And don't close your fucking legs again”

˚୨୧⋆.

“Did so good for me, pretty” He panted after ripping two more orgasms from you. Kissing and licking his way up your body, before he engulfed you in a passionate kiss, your taste lingering on his tongue.

“Need you inside, now. Please papa” You begged.

“Are you sure?” Despite just sucking your soul from your pussy, he was still a sweetheart. Green eyes rapidly scanning your face for any sense of doubt.

“Yes, please” You tugged on his shirt revealing the sight sheen of sweat on his toned muscles.

“I'll go slow, but all you have to say is stop and I will okay?” He reached down into his sweats, stroking himself before pulling them down. Boy was he hung, prominent veins along the circumference of his dick, and his red tip leaking pre-cum from the occasional grind he delivered to the mattress while having you cream on his fingers.

“Okay” You let out a shaky breath, nerves rising as he rubbed his tip through your folds, collecting your slick before lining up with your entrance.

“Don't worry baby, just relax for me” He whispered in the crook of your neck as he pushed himself in.

The stretch was borderline unbearable as you felt him slide into your walls. He was thick, and having a hard time moving an inch without you squeezing him so tight.

“Relax princess, let me in” He whispered, taking note of your nails breaking the skin of his back, and your furrowed eyebrows as you tried to adjust.

“M’trying s’jus too big” You practically cried.

“I know, mama. Wanna stop?” He pressed loving kisses to your forehead.

“No, no I can take it. Just keep going” He went slowly, taking his time to minimize the discomfort, and look for any signs of pain as he nestled in between your legs, tip brushing against your cervix.

“Doing so good for me, princess. Just relax” He soothed once you gave him the green light to move.

Before you knew it he was whispering nasty things into your ear as he pounded into you, your second orgasm from his thrusts building in your lower stomach.

“Taking this dick so good for me, ma. Fat ass pussy squeezing me so tight” He grunted, tits bouncing at his feverish movements.

The room was hot and filled with your moans, and slapping skin as Eren pounded into you. He was slowly losing control, relishing in the way your pussy welcomed him in, the white creamy stickiness at the base of his cock having his brain go fuzzy. His only objective to have you cum on his dick over and over again till you were fucked senseless.

“Papa t-too much- mhmph too deep” You cried, despite wrapping your legs around his waist to bring him closer.

“S'too deep? Thought you could take it, baby. Thought you were my good girl” He faked his concern, bullying his dick into your warm walls.

“I am” You pouted, nails digging into his biceps as he pressed down on your chubby tummy, smirking when he felt his dick poking his hand.

“Then nut on your dick, mama. Be a good girl for daddy” The dam breaking immediately when he rubbed tight circles on your clit.

“Shit” He moaned, his thrusts becoming sloppy as he painted your walls with his sticky cum.

“Did so good, baby” He whispered in between kisses as he fucked his load back into you.

“S-sensitive, pa” You whined as you pushed his hips away, earning a pinch to your hand and fake pout.

“I know” He faked sympathy, pushing your legs up against your chest.

“But I want you to do well tomorrow, lemme make sure I fucked all the anxiety outta you. Yeah?”

wrote for my babes who needed an eren during their finals week cause ik i needed one ૮꒰ྀི˶˃ ⌓ ˂˶꒱ྀིა

anywayssss i gotta question. does anyone have any tips on how to length the smutty scenes i feel as if they're too short but im not 100% sure on how to add more detail. any feedback is appreciated mwah<333

[fangirl-dot-com]

✉️Divorce of Convenience

*part of the reverse trope series*

Pairing: Oscar Piastri x Wife!Reader Genre: Fluff/Mischief/Miscommunication Summary: Oscar as your first everything: love, boyfriend, husband. You never had to go through any type of heartbreak ever. With Taylor Swift's new album, you yearn for a deeper connection with the songs. What's a better way than to ask your husband for a weekend divorce?

TAG LIST IS CLOSED

Oscar knew something was up the moment you started smirking behind your phone as you lounged on the couch. His hand was mindlessly rubbing one of your ankles that was currently propped up on his lap. There was a week in between Monaco and Canada, which gave him time to come straight home to you. 

Photographs littered the walls of your home. Some from the very early days of grade school, where you and Oscar first met. And then some of grades 9 through 12 and Oscar’s karting and Formula racing, which marked the first four years of your relationship. The engagement pictures and wedding pictures followed a year later. 

There were a couple of pictures from 2023, signifying Oscar’s first year in McLaren. There were few from this year, as Oscar got busier, but you managed to pick some out to print. However, the Aussie really didn’t notice them at first, too busy wrapping you in his arms when he got home from the double-header. 

Another giggle made him actually look at you, eyebrow raised. 

“What’s got you all smiley?” 

You huffed as you put your phone down in your lap. 

“Taylor Swift came out with a new album, and people on Tik Tok are hilarious.”  

He rolled his eyes. He knew that there was more to it. 

“And?” 

“I’m just thinking about how if we ever went through a breakup, I could relate to some of the songs on a deeper level.” 

You sat up to scooch closer to your husband, now touching shoulders as you showed him a video of a woman crying to one of the new songs. Oscar was having a hard time realizing why this was funny to you.

“What if we got a divorce?” 

Oh. 

Oscar whipped his head toward you, hair swishing. “You want to do what?” 

You huffed again, lightly rolling your eyes. “A divorce for like just a bit, so that I can really get to Taylor’s level.” 

Oscar’s head reeled back. “Why on earth would you want to do that?” 

He was getting a bit self-conscious. Was this your way of silently telling him that you weren’t satisfied being married to him? Was he away too much? Were you bored without him here? Did you want to come to more races with him?  

“Ossie, it’s not what you think,” you said as you waved your hands around. Your husband crossed his arms, not entirely impressed. 

“What I’m thinking is that you’re not happy with me anymore.” 

You wanted to melt into the couch as his sad expression. There wasn’t much difference between him and his new “brother” Leo in terms of puppy eyes. You gently put your hands on his cheeks and made him look at you. 

“Oscar you should know better. There isn’t anyone else I’d rather spend the rest of my life with.” 

He pouted slightly. “Then why do you want to get a ‘divorce’ if you’re still happy.” 

You looked down at your lap as you took your hands away from his face. Your fingers started to pick at the skin around your nails. Now that you thought about it, your idea was childish and dramatic. Why would you want to get a divorce when you were happily married to the love of your life. 

“Hey.” It was Oscar’s turn to turn your head to look at him. “Just tell me. I’m having a hard time understanding.” 

“You were my first everything, you know this. I’ve never gone through a bad breakup or heartbreak, and sometimes I wish that I could experience that.” 

He gave you a look. “I understand.” 

Your eyebrows furrowed. “You do?” 

A nod was your answer. “It’s a part of growing up that you didn’t get to go through.” 

Nervous giggles fell through your lips, which turned into actual laughing. You fell forward into Oscar’s lap, making him laugh with you. When all giggles and laughs had subsided, he gave you a quick peck on your lips. 

The McLaren driver started to calculate things in his head. “Saur, you want to get a divorce, to listen to some songs for a few hours, and then?” 

You bumped him lightly with your shoulder. “Not an actual divorce Ossie. Just, if lots of people believe that we’re getting a divorce then it’s technically true?” 

Even you didn’t sound 100 percent sure. 

Oscar turned his body to fully face you. Now it was his turn to smirk, knowing what you wanted to do. He was never above creating some mischief online. Heck, his tweets went viral for stirring up the media. 

“So, how are we going to do this?” 

What Osar wasn’t ready for, was for you to have a 10-step plan for this. He should have been ready for your antics; he had been with you for most of your life. You suddenly stopped talking mid-sentence, your eyes widening, raising some concern in Oscar. 

“What’s wrong?” 

“We can’t tell Lando.” 

With that the plan went into motion. Step one was to cry in the car, which seemed easy enough as you chose to watch some sad edits on TikTok. It was perfect. Your mascara ran enough for the cameras to pick up on it. 

The second step was simple. You had a friend who just so happened to work at the Melbourne Law Firm. You had previously wanted to bring her lunch one day, and it worked perfectly for the plan. You knew that people were following you, which made it even better. On your way out, you took a small coffee from the lobby, and then sat in your car for a moment. 

y/nl/n has posted

liked by piastri81, y/nismother, landonorris, and 1,204,109 others

y/nl/n you drew stars around my scars, but down I'm bleeding

see all comments

y/nsworld guys. . . SOMEONE WAKE ME UP FROM THIS NIGHTMARE 😩

ossie&n/n THEY HIT THE PENTAGON

landonorris you want to REPLY TO MY MESSAGES??

charles_leclerc please also respond to your favorite father-in-law

maxverstappen1 answer them cause they're threatening to fly to Australia and they're going to take me with them

piastriduo she changed her username 🥺😭

y/nswife I can't be a child of divorce, it's too early

Third, Oscar would make a public appearance the day after. Some paparazzi had spotted him, making him fly the bird at the cameras. The McLaren driver quickly turned around and headed back to his car, wanting to now get home. 

Except, Oscar wasn’t expecting to be jumped the moment he wanted to get out of the house for the weekend. You had decided to go out shopping, keeping your head low. He knew he should also have kept his head low. A hand reached out and grabbed him, pulling him into a random bookstore. He had half a mind to start yelling “stranger danger,” but these were no strangers.

“Lando, Max, Charles? What is this?” 

Lando’s finger pressed into his chest, making him wince a bit. The Briton had anger in his eyes, along with Charles and Max also glaring. 

Lando hissed, “This is an intervention. Why did you divorce Y/n? She was literally your life mate. You freakin’ muppet.” 

Charles decided to put his piece in. “Did something happen? You two were so happy in Australia and Miami.” 

“Or did she do something?” the Dutchman asked, making Oscar immediately shake his head. He looked down at the floor. 

“We just decided that it wasn’t working any more. I’ve been too busy with racing and she got a new job here.” 

Lando scoffed. “Utter bullshit, that’s what that is.” 

Charles looked like a kicked puppy. “Mate. Is there no way to reconnect?” 

Oscar crossed his arms, trying to seem more intimidating. “We fought and it’s over. She already gave me the papers and they’re signed. End of story.” 

“Babe, you didn’t tell me that you were shopping here too! I found this new book . . . oh.” 

Shit. 

You blinked, looking at the three men who were cornering your husband. This was not in the 10-step plan. You were about to say something, but Lando quickly walked over to you. You expected some yelling, but he pulled you to the side. It was intense eye contact for a moment. 

“Did Oscar cheat?” 

“What?” 

He gasped. “Did you cheat?” 

You huffed. “Lando, no one cheated.” 

The kid looked like a kicked puppy, even though he was older than you. He threw his hands up in the air, pretty exasperated. 

“Why did you two get a divorce?” 

The sheer volume of his voice made a few heads turn, making you wince a bit. You tugged his arm and pulled him back to the group of three. The Briton may have dragged his feet just a bit, only because he didn’t want to have this awkward conversation with you and his teammate. 

You tilted your head just a bit. “Can we have this conversation somewhere else?” 

They shrugged and followed you, even into the car since they had all walked. And instead of getting into the back seats of your SUV, Lando, Charles, and Max squished into the first row. Their eyes did widen when your hand clasped Oscar’s as you drove off. 

Lando leaned over to Max and whispered pretty loudly, “Why are they holding hands?” 

The Dutchman “whispered” back, “I don’t know. Maybe it’s some weird kink?” 

You hit the brakes as you came to a stop light, making Lando and Max jolt. Charles sat still in his seat, already bracing himself since he wasn’t yapping. Well, at least not yet. 

You took this moment to quickly turn around and stare at them, silently telling them to shut their mouths. Oscar bit back a smile as he heard Max and Lando suck in a breath. He sighed in relief as you pulled into the garage. Ever such a gentleman, he hopped out to run around and open your door. 

He pressed a kiss against your cheek. 

“This was your idea remember?” he muttered, guiding you into the house, the three other drivers silently following you. 

You took your time to put your new books away before you went to sit on the couch. Oscar handed you a glass of water, which you thankfully took. You wanted to laugh as you watched Max, Charles, and Lando squirm. 

“You have a very lovely house,” Charles mentioned, trying to break the silence. He was successful as you gave them a soft smile. 

“Thank you, Charles. Oscar bought it for us after he signed with McLaren.” 

Lando remembered the day that the Aussie had told him about the purchase. Oscar had been so excited to truly start your life with each other. The apartment that you two had before was getting small. But now, sitting in front of you when divorce was on the line, he truly wondered what all went wrong. 

He clapped his hands, ending the conversation that you were having with Charles about paint colors. 

Lando pointed at you and Oscar. “Enough. What is going on?” 

You stifled a laugh before trying to clear the air. “Lando, there was never a real divorce. The gossip pages just ran with a rumor.” 

Max butted in. “But the law firm, your Instagram post?” 

Oscar reached over and took your hand in his. “You three know that we’re high school sweethearts, and before that, childhood friends.” 

Lando looked confused. “And what does that have anything to do with this?” 

“Mate,” Oscar started, “it has everything to do with it. Because we’ve been together since we were younger, there wasn’t time for normal teenager things like breakups or heart break.” 

“So,” you added, “we,” Oscar gave you a look, “I thought it might be fun to pretend to get a divorce.” 

No one said a word.

Lando then fell to his knees and kissed your carpet. “Thank God. I don’t think I could handle a sad Oscar every single weekend.” 

You patted him on the shoulder. “I don’t think I’d ever want to live without him. And I couldn’t pass the opportunity to not travel around the world.” 

Your husband gasped a bit while he put his hand on his heart. “You wound me woman. I knew you were with me for my money.” 

You wiggled your eyebrows. “But of course, darling. What else would you be good for?” 

Max put his head in his hands. “They’re made for each other. This is gross.” 

You quickly stood from your couch. “Well, I think it’s time for dinner. Ossie?” 

The man in question blushed at the nickname, while the other three cooed at them. He turned to give them a stink eye, effectively shutting them up. 

As you started to get some pans out for dinner, you found yourself with a human backpack. Oscar pressed his face into your neck, sighing deeply. There weren’t many moments that the two of you got to be domestic like this. And it would have been romantic, except for Lando’s squealing as he looked around at the pictures on the wall. 

“Osc, is this you in grade school? Where did the cheeks go, mate?” 

“Lando, get away from the pictures.” 

“But Osc, you were such a cute kid. What happened?” 

“You happened.” 

“Osc!” 

oscarpiastri has posted

liked by mclaren, piastriduo, landonorris, and 2,947,256 others

oscarpiastri she's mine for the rest of time ❤️

see all comments

ossie&n/n WAAAARRRR IISSSS OOOVVEERRRRR

y/nsworld I have never been more thankful for rumors

y/nl/n ossieeeee 🥺

y/nl/n I love youuuuuuu (you're never getting rid of meeee)

oscarpiastri I love you too (pls change your user back)

y/nl/n i have to wait 2 weeks (stupid instagram)

landonorris so glad to see you in the paddock 🙌

y/nl/n good to see you too loser

piastriupdates my parents ☺️

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[jamminvroomvroom]

adrenaline, baby.

ln x wife!reader

ahahaha i couldn’t help myself. wrote this at godspeed (20 mins) and i’m not even sorry. not my finest work but i could not care less this is peak brainrot (waving at you @lavenderlando). feral is the only word on my mind at this time. gg lando.

warnings: listen it’s porn with minimal plot. minors dni i am so serious!! 18+, smut, fluff, breeding kink, implied overstimulation, mentions of pregnancy, marriage, it’s just unhinged idk

your back couldn’t have hit the bed soon enough, touch starved bodies moulding into the cloud-like mattress. you’d waited all weekend to get him on top of you, and now that the stress of the race weekend had melted away, you’d been able to put the do not disturb sign to good use.

lando’s adrenaline rush had sent him feral.

he hadn’t stopped touching you since he’d been able to, practically dragging you through the mexican paddock, into the car, through the door of your hotel suite. he’d attended to his race duties and now lando had a wife to attend to.

six months of married bliss meant one thing: a lot of sex in a lot of places. you didn’t know how to keep you hands off of one another, proud of yourselves for making it behind closed doors this time. it meant you could take your time, that he could take you apart just how he liked to, and that’s what he did.

“c’mon, baby. need you nice and ready for me.” lando muttered into your neck, punctuating his words with a kiss below your ear. he had two fingers working in and out of you, curling deliciously against your walls. “did all of those overtakes, and then i did them again. now, m’gonna make you come for me again and again.”

he was a man, possessed.

a strangled cry tore from the back of your throat, zero regard for the neighbouring rooms as you fell apart, spasming into the white bed linen. lando didn’t stop, fucking you through the waves of pleasure until tears pricked your eyes and you were squirming away from him.

there wasn’t a second to recover, his curls tickling your thighs as he slotted between your legs, tongue lapping up the mess he’d just made. your ears were ringing, eyes squeezed shut, thrashing hard before your body dissolved completely under his touch. you couldn’t figure out where the pleasure started and where it ended, all you knew was that your second orgasm was approaching faster than lando has made up all those race positions.

“oh my god.” you repeated over and over like a prayer, blindly tipping over the edge, his tongue stroking your clit while his fingers coaxed you to your second release.

“i’m not done with you, baby. gonna fill you up again, just like you keep asking me to.” lando groaned, scaling up your body. you shuddered at his words, your body set on fire. it was a sort of given, at this point, that you were trying. or, to put it more accurately, not not trying. it did something to you, the idea of him letting loose, not a single barrier between your intertwined bodies, and he loved it as much as you did.

a litter of soothing kisses were placed up your throat, before he reached your lips, his own slotting over yours. it was messy, passionate, quiet whimpers being traded between you as he found his rightful place between your parted thighs. your legs were hooked over his hips, pulling him in, the tip of his cock painting over your folds. and then he was inside of you, slick bodies at one, and a switch in him flipped.

lando went deep, rocking into you like it was the last time. it definitely wouldn’t be. he could have left an imprint of your body in the mattress, holding you down as he ruined you. it was desperate, new urges unlocked in him since you’d started this new venture in the bedroom, no limits. you couldn’t keep up with him, letting him do all the work, just how he liked it. and you fucking loved it.

all you could do was clamp down on him, a beautiful mess at his mercy, his name chanted into the room. everything was hazy, nothing, there was only him and you. you arched into him, clawing at the bronzed, glowing skin of his lean back, eyes rolling in your skull at the way his muscles felt as they tensed under your touch.

“one more for me, baby, one more for now and i’ll give you what you want. gonna make me a daddy?” lando’s breath fanned your face as he spoke, watching with a smirk at the way you absolutely lost it.

you were sobbing when you came, the aftershocks continued by the way you felt him reach his own release. white heat pricked your skin and you collapsed even further into the bed, wrecked beneath him. you were grinning lazily, panting hard, eyes shut from the exhaustion. lando kissed away the tear tracks, residing inside you as you both came down from the high.

the air changed drastically, softer, intimate. he found your lips again, gentle this time, affectionate pecks reviving you.

“you okay, my love?” lando whispered. you breathed a laugh.

“you’re too good to me.” your voice was raspy, your vocal chords shot from a weekend of screaming his name in every possible context. “proud of you, honey.”

lando hummed softly, grateful for your praise. he scanned your face, an angelic glow gracing your features. his beautiful wife.

“gonna get you cleaned up.” he went to roll off of you, but your legs tightened around his waist.

“not yet. wanna stay like this for a minute.” your voice was laced with sleep, and lando couldn’t help but smile.

“this might have been the time, y’know.” lando’s words came out excitedly, unable to contain his delight at the idea of having a family. your family.

“and even if it wasn’t, i don’t mind the free practice.” you teased, but the giddy feeling in the pit of your stomach told you something, and so did the test you took four weeks later.

-

idk what came over me idk what happened lol. bye.

[babygirl-riley]

Welcome Home

You surprise Simon at the base instead of being at home. You also think about how far he has come to acceptance.

Warnings: mentions of sexual acts, fluff, dad!simon, angst, pregnancy

“I’ve fallen for it, I’ve fallen for it somehow.”

A/N: THE PART TWO DAD!SIMON FROM @ave661 IS KILLLINGGGG ME! Seriously chokehold she has me in ALL the time with her art. 😭

simon x reader guide

simon x reader family edition

You called Price beforehand, asked him if it was alright to surprise Simon. You wanted to show up at the base with your baby girl waiting for him. Like you always do. Thankfully and full heartedly he agreed, he even added that he is excited to see his niece. On the way to the base you felt excitement as you played music for both you and your baby.

Your baby gabbles as she plays with hanging baby toys on her car seat. Simon has been gone for a month, it has been so long and you were so excited. He missed having her first tooth, which he will be so excited to see.

Once you got you and your child out of the car you headed to the inside of the base. “141 will be landing in 5 minutes ma’am.” A man said guiding you to the tarmac. “Captain Price said to meet them there.”

You followed the solider to the direction of the tarmac. You knew very well where it was at, a year ago you were on the team for 141 but decided to retire once you found out you were pregnant. Memories littered the hallways as you held your baby close.

“No.” He mumbled as you both stood in your room. He didn’t move for a moment, you thought he was going to leave and not come back for hours. Simon doesn’t do well with emotions but the last couple of months, he has been able to open up more. Now this. You didn’t know how he was going to react let alone what he was going to do.

It was clear, two lines, one word, 6 tests. You and Simon have been in secret for 2 years, established a relationship in a year. You played with your hands as nerves started to kick in. “I thought you were on birth control.” Simon said looking up at you, his eyes only to be shown. The skull mask looking at you.

“I am.” You said your heart slowly hurting, you knew that he never wanted a kid. You knew of his past so this was a joke for the both of you. It was frowned upon when a lieutenant would be sleeping with their sergeant. Hell damn near court marshaled.

Simon looked back down at the tests. He can’t. He won’t. His mind racing a million miles an hour. How could he explain this one to Price? How could you hide a belly on the force? Is there a way for it to be a secret anymore? He cursed himself for loving the fact that he could breed you. It was a new found kink, with him thinking of his cum coating your walls. Simon never broadcast it to you. Telling you that seeing a belly got him feral, thinking about how your body would react to his gift. But…It’s just…is it too soon? Was he ready? Surely he couldn’t be.

“I can get…”

“No,” He cut you off before looking up at you. “This…Not that. ‘M,” his voice trailed. No abortion, he won’t put your body through hell just because both of you didn’t want to wrap it. “I just-I don’t know what to do.”

“I don’t either,” You whispered walking slowly up to him. “But we can figure this out?”

Simon nodded once still looking at the tests. You waited as he stood there and sighed. “We have to tell Price now.”

“Here is the tarmac,” The solider said breaking you from your thoughts. “It looks like they have just landed.”

You mumbled a thank you as soldiers came out one by one from the plane. All covered in dirt or blood, tired written on their faces. You frowned knowing that Simon felt the same, it couldn’t have gone the way it suppose to.

You smiled as you walked out watching Gaz come out first, happy surprise on his face. He looked to the side of him to see Soap, who smiled at you nodded. Price smiled, heading towards the direction you were before stopping. Simon, walked out last, almost stopped in his tracks.

Smile beaming on his face underneath the skull mask. His girls. He be-lined to you and your baby girl. His heart beating quickly, as excitement coursed through his veins.

Price stood as both of his teammates broke the news. He had his suspicions of them fucking around but not together. He itches his beard as your tears start to mellow out. Simon was not looking at him but folding his arms while leaning against the wall.

It was like two of his kids came home after school to get hounded at. It was amusing if Price wasn’t angry. Yes. He was at first, his lieutenant and his best sniper in a bit of a bind. She has to be discharged no way will Price NOR Simon let her go out in the field. Especially since they voiced they are keeping the kid.

“We keep it low,” Price finally spoke watched as both of you looked up. “We have to slowly discharge you, not try to have eyes on the situation until then. No missions for you.”

You nodded, first time every has he seen you so shy. Timid. Usually you had confidence written all over you. “Yes sir.” You mumbled looking away.

Price looked at Simon. “I want to have a discussion with you,” He looked at you as you stared at him. You both are young, younger than him anyway. He seen how Simon’s demeanor changed throughout the years when you came on the force. Of course no one else saw it, but Price did. He always knew. “Dismissed Sargent.”

Your baby squealed with delight as she bounced in your arms. “Da! Da!” She yelled as Simon walked over, having heads turn to see the little baby showed her excitement. Simon did take note that she knew who he was and in fact used ‘dada.’

Simon almost damn near sprinted as he walked up to both of you. You let him take your baby as he grabbed her, she screamed laughed, as he rose her to the air. Holding her sides gently but firm. She is so tiny compared to him, she kicked her feet softly in the air, laughing her little head off. Simon loves that sound, the sound of pure joy coming from her. To the point he didn’t give a damn who was around them. Simon was never a shower when it came to his private life, but when she was around wow, he would make sure everyone knew who she was.

Simon sat across the table from you, your bump more noticeable, 6 months to be exact. He still couldn’t believe that what was growing inside you was his. Part of him. Something that he would have never thought would be done. Or have. You have become more aware and accepting of having the child. Yet he still hasn’t.

“I know it will take time Si,” You said knowing always what he was thinking. Simon snapped his eyes up at you, he felt guilt for sure. You were just honorable discharged and he stayed in the force. “I can’t make you feel happy about this. But…But I know eventually you will.”

He didn’t believe you until one night he laid between your legs as you rubbed the back of his head. Simon chuckled lightly at the tv show you were both watching right when it happened,felt a small poke to his head, he froze, you felt him tense. “What…what that?”

You giggled lowly as you rubbed your belly. “It’s the baby,” He still didn’t move when he felt it again. “She moves a lot when you make any sort of noise.” Simon rose slightly, looking up at you, curiously. You grabbed his hand and placed it where she was. His eyes trained on his hand. “Say something.” You whispered.

Simon looked at you unsure before clearing his throat. “Uh, hello baby girl.” It took a second before he felt the bump move to his hand. A soft graze. He snapped his eyes up at you and tears brimming your eyes, nodding. Encouraging him to continue. Simon’s eyes started to water, everything hitting, even when she isn’t out here she was wanting him. Knowing that he is her dad. And she was his baby.

His hand rubbed your belly. “‘Ight ass kicker. I’m happy to hear ya too.”

“Hello my angels,” He said as slowly held her close to him. Her head cradled inside of his neck. Her hands gripping his uniform. He placed a hand on the back of her hand holding her close. You smiled as he placed his other gloved hand on your cheek. “Why ya ‘ere?”

“I couldn’t wait at home,” You stated as people passed the both of you. “She couldn’t either,” you bumped your shoulder against his. “Told you it was dada.” You teased talking about the last time you both were on the phone. Her screaming ‘da da da,’ knowing damn well it was her daddy on the phone. Simon would tease and say that she got your intelligence since she was only 5 months.

Simon chuckled rolling his eyes, turning his head as she rose from his shoulder. She started towards his skull mask gripping the bottom of it. “Not yet sweethear,’” he whispered gently grabbing her hands. “We are gonna debrief it shouldn’t take too long.”

“Lass,” You laughed as the scottish came up from behind Simon. Slapping his back. “Oh well hello little miss.” He scratched softly underneath her chin. She laughed again shaking her head as she clung onto her dad. “Yer playing hard to get now?” He teased and looked at you.

“Hey Johnny,” You laughed reaching for your baby. She came to you with ease, which you mentally sighed in relief, hoping that she wouldn’t ball her little eyes out when she watched her dad leave. “We will wait on the cafeteria.”

Simon placed his forehead against yours. “It will be quick.” He whispered.

You nodded as you watched them all file into the base. Your baby holding onto you cooing. “Why don’t you ever get that excited to see me,” You playfully glared poking her stomach. She giggled swatting your finger away. “Brat.” You laughed taking her and you to the cafeteria.

[tacticalprincess]

MDNI — cw: f!reader, car sex, age gap

farmhand!könig who can’t get enough of farmer’s daughter!reader….

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ 🌾

he’s always pestering you, making it impossible for you to complete your chores on time most days. he’s addicted to the playful gleam in your eyes when you look up at him, the way your soft body feels in his rugged hands. the excitement that thrums under his skin as the two of you dance around your overprotective dad, sharing a secret that tethers you together long after you leave his shed at night, lingers thick in the air at the dinner table and in passing. the more of you you give to him, the worse his craving for you gets, and the less he seems to care about getting caught.

he sneaks a hand over your mouth and lifts you into his old, beat up truck while you’re taking your dry sheets off the clothesline, the sun hot and heavy overhead. you squeal against his palm, writhing in his hold before he sets you on his broad lap, letting you turn to face him.

“don’t do that! you scared me.”

he laughs it off, already snaking his large, calloused hands under your shirt to thumb at your hip pudge. cant waste any time when he has you alone. insincere apologizes mumbled into the soft, sweat slick skin of your neck, huffing in your sweet scent. “cant help myself with you teasing me like this. bending over in these tiny shorts, showing all the animals your ass.”

you giggle, back arching into the older man’s greedy, firm touch, angling your head away to give him more access to your neck. “the cows weren’t exactly my target audience.”

“talking about me, liebchen.” he clarifies. the strong smell of musk and mud invades your senses, the soft fabric of his white tee chafing against your hard, braless nipples through your flimsy shirt. “dirty little girl, aren’t you? going to get me in trouble one day, i know it. what would your father do if he knew his daughter was trying to seduce his best farmhand?”

he renders your ability to speak null and void when he slots his hands into your shorts and squeezes you for all you have to offer, spreading your cheeks and making you grind your hips down on his hard bulge, the friction from your jeans borderline painful against your clit. groans throatily at how wet you are already, his fingers slipping into your hole to gather your slick before he retracts it entirely, showing you how it sticks to his thick digits. “hm? looks like this cute little cunt missed me too.” a cocky grin plagues his sharp features, smearing your juices over your pouty lips dirtily, just to see your face scrunch up in disgust. he grabs your chin, pulling you forward to lick it off.

it’s all happening too fast, exhilaration clinging to your bones, heat gathering at your core. you look around the field warily, mind racing with doubt but your body betrays you, bucking into his mouth when you feel him litter sloppy, wet kisses along your chest, pulling down the strap of your shirt to let your cute boobs spring free. if it wasn’t hot already, you’re burning up now. “könig, not out in the open like this. what if daddy sees?”

“i’ll be quick, maus. just want to play with you.” he promises, though you have a sneaking suspicion it won’t be over that soon. “can you feel how hard you make me? you’re all i can think about, it’s impairing my ability to work. cant have that, can we?”

decidedly, you don’t want to be the cause of a sudden switch in the quality of könig’s farm work, or at least that’s what you tell yourself when you let him push your shorts to the side, sitting yourself down on his thick, hard manhood. he swallows every heavenly noise that tip from your soft lips onto his tongue, clashing teeth and jaw from desperation. lets you grit your kitten nails into his scalp for purchase, hot bodies pressed flush together in the cramped space while he lifts and drops you down until your thighs start to tremble and lock around him. the heels of your boots dent into your plush thighs, his are planted to the floor as he pile drives his hips into you, thrusts deliberate and meticulous in a way that awakens sweet parts you didn’t know you had.

it’s a shame, he thinks, having to hide away in a dirty truck with such a pretty thing like you. too soft and sweet for a man like him, but his addiction to you makes you impossible to resist. it’s unclear who’s corrupting who in this situation.

if you were back home with him in austria, he would’ve proposed to you already, declaring you as his for everyone to see. as it is, he bounces you on his cock until you’re seeing stars, the ambience of the farm surrounding you, with the slowly setting sun as your witness.

[starrystevie]

it was all supposed to be a dumb joke.

the boys had been sitting around after rehearsal one night passing a bowl and more than a few beers, laughing about how unsuccessful the newest music based social media app would be. mere seconds of songs looping over and over with other songs mixed in would never work, especially for corroded coffin where the story, the buildup of their songs was part of the reason to listen.

it all started with jeff, grinning slowly ear to ear. "what if were to get in there and take some celebrity's name for a user name? like paris hilton or something."

then it moved to gareth, who paused with a scrunched up face. "dude, paris hilton? what the fuck kind of reference is that..."

then it was over to greg, choking on a smoke-laced laugh. "yeah, it'd be funnier if it was eddie's pop prince loverboy instead."

that got everyone's attention. eddie had protested to ears that didn't want to hear it as they cackled in their studio that they rented by the hour, bent over in their rolling chairs, leaning against the side of the mixing board for support.

"loverboy?! you know i can't stand steve harrington and his bullshit lyrics, what the fuck kind of suggestion is that..."

but come the next day, when the weed had left his system and his veins were alcohol-free, eddie stared at the mixr app home screen and the blinking red circle over his inbox with disdain after successfully acquiring a user name he never would have picked for himself.

'steveharrington', eddie's account says, along with an icon of himself and his tongue out.

if it hadn't been for being less than sober when the app dropped. if it hadn't been for his best friends egging him on with taunts and jeers and kissy noises and less than sincere dreamy calls of 'oh steve' in the background. if it hadn't been for the way that eddie secretly did think about a certain head of floppy hair and soft brown eyes and shoulders littered with constellations.

if it hadn't been for all of that he wouldn't have had the chance to have his celebrity crush, the steve harrington, in his inbox at 8am on a random tuesday morning.

"good morning!" the message says simply enough. eddie stares at the words, trying to process what they mean, looking at the verified username of 'steveharrington1' next to an icon of his most recent album along with it. his inbox is flooded with people all asking him random things, thinking he's the real steve harrington, but this one verified account has him shaking.

for all that eddie is, all big hair and black jeans and skull rings and leather, he's still a man. a man who can look at a pop star, annoying as their music may be, and see charm. he can see attractiveness. he can see that smile that steve harrington has perfected behind his eyelids and he can see them strolling off into the sunset together hand in hand and he can see steve all flushed and breathing heavily underneath him on a mountain of plush pillows and he can see-

the message pings again with a new addition. "i know this seems weird and my team advised against it but i'd really like your user name of... well, my name."

eddie blinks slowly. he pictures steve maybe laying in bed, maybe sitting at the breakfast table with a cup of coffee, with his phone in his hand as he types out a message to him. to think that steve has any idea about him existing on any sort of level is doing his head in. his heartbeat races a little faster as he types back with shaky hands and a pit in his stomach.

"is this real?" is all he can type out, leaning against the kitchen counter as he waits for his coffee to brew.

three dots pull up on the app screen before disappearing and eddie pulls his lip in between his teeth to focus his energy elsewhere. he tears his eyes away from his phone and looks out the window to watch the people out for their morning walks. he's just about to the point where he thinks about maybe taking up walking if nothing else to get all the pent up energy out of him when the app dings again. as he looks back, his heart sinks to the bottom of his stomach.

it's a photo of steve that can't have been released before. he's sitting outside in bright sunshine with sunglasses on, tousled hair and grin on his face. he's holding his hand up in a thumbs up and eddie can see the remnants of cream cheese on the side of his index finger.

he sucks in a stuttering breath through his teeth, trying to force his lungs to breath again. the dots pop up on screen once more and the message that comes through is instantaneous.

"real enough for you?" it reads. and then an additional message is tacked on. "need me to hold up a newspaper with the date on it?"

there's a winky face that follows and it feels fake even though it's very real. this whole morning feels wrong, unreal. he's just eddie munson, some singer in some halfway popular band in some kind of shitty neighborhood in los angeles that just happens to have not just some pop star in his dms. this doesn't happen to him.

"why did your team tell you not to message me? does my reputation precede me?"

eddie pulls his hand up to his mouth to bite at the side of his fingernail, watching the screen with rapt attention and waiting for the typing dots to disappear.

"according to this account your name is steve harrington and yes, i'd say his reputation does precede him."

eddie barks out a laugh, not exactly expecting that.

he didn't know what he was expecting out of any of this. he thought that it might help get the corroded coffin name out more if he got tangled up somehow with the steve harrington name. spark a little bit of drama to boost their visibility. but now here he is, talking to the man himself, cracking jokes and trying not to hyperventilate.

"how were you able to get this name so fast anyway? my team was on it right when the app dropped last night."

"i had the power of bandmates and weed on my side," he types back, side of his mouth quirking up into a smile.

"oh so you're a musician? maybe i should be looking into your reputation then, mystery person."

eddie pauses and thinks about every option. he is semi-known in the metal scene, his outlandish stunts on stage and political speeches at shows that garner them becoming an almost brand for him. if he tells steve who he is, would he know? care? run away from the scary guy who may or may not use stage blood in every music video?

but the thing is, he's not a scary guy and he never has been. he might be a little intimidating and he guesses that's the armor he puts on everyday after being bullied in school but it's not an accurate showing of who he is. eddie is sweet, funny, kind of smart in that has random fun facts about dungeons and dragons kind of way.

and he wants the steve harrington to know that guy.

eddie flips over at his middle so his head is nearly touching the floor and ruffles his hair, giving it volume and calming down the frizz that comes from sleep. he shakes it out of his face once he's upright and grabs his garfield coffee mug if only to have something to do with his hands. grabbing his phone off the counter, he opens the camera option in their message thread and snaps a quick picture of himself grinning, mug next to his face with a matching cat-like smirk. he nervously presses send before he can even think about all the flaws with it.

"eddie munson at your service," is what he types out with a saluting emoji and a muttered prayer to whoever would listen to him that things don't end horribly.

it's not like he's expecting to sweep steve off his feet. he knows that steve has picture perfect partners, he sees enough internet news to know that gruff and dark isn't the kind of guy he normally goes for. but he looks back at the photo he sent and hopes that steve sees the kindness in his eyes, the scruff on his jawline that makes it look just the smallest bit chiseled, the whimsy and life that he embodies that comes from a tacky coffee cup.

there isn't an automatic answer and it makes whatever hope eddie has floating around his system falter. ''at this point you've probably searched me and i can reassure you, i'm not actually a vampire like google seems to think i am."

"holy shit."

it's short, two words followed by typing dots that disappear, reappear, disappear once more before reappearing for the last time.

"would you believe me if i told you that i am huge fan??"

choking on coffee hurts, eddie finds out. he coughs as the hot liquid goes down the wrong pipe and concentrates on the messages once he gets his bearings back. steve, the steve harrington, a fan of his? it's a prank, it has to be, there is no way that steve harrington-

"one of my exes took me to your show at the bowl and it quite possibly changed my life. you gave that speech about the pipeline before the encore and i went home and bought every single one of your albums that same night."

he's dead. the papers will read 'eddie munson found dead in his home in a ratty metallica shirt holding onto a garfield coffee mug and cellphone open to a chat where steve harrington tells him he's a fan of his work'. it's the only way that this is possibly happening. he's died and gone to whatever fucked up version of heaven has him still living in his shitty la apartment.

"are you fucking kidding me?" is what he types back, slamming his coffee mug onto the counter to have access to both hands. "you've heard my stuff?"

and then it happens, like out of a shitty teenage rom-com, his phone is lighting up with an in-app call from steve harrington. the steve harrington. careful not to drop his phone in his hurried movements, he presses accept faster than he thinks his fingers have every worked.

"hello?" he questions into the phone and there's no hello back, just steve apparently freaking out as much as he is.

"i hope this is okay," he says and god, does his voice sound wonderful over the phone like this. "but it's faster and i have too many things to say that typing it all out would be stupid."

eddie grins and his feet tap against the ground like an excited kid. "it's fine, i uhm... i get it. god, this is weird."

steve hums in agreement before laughing. and oh, that laugh. it has eddie floating up to cloud nine, heart thumping painfully in his chest, butterflies beating their wings wildly in his stomach.

"yeah, it's definitely not how i expected this morning to go. talking to eddie munson, wow."

"sure," eddie snorts, "you talk to celebrities all the time, i'm sure this is small fish for you."

he hears steve laugh again, soft and gentle, like it's meant just for eddie. "i might talk to celebrities all the times but not ones that i have posters on my wall of like a pre-teen. i'm properly geeking out right now."

eddie short circuits. that's the only way to explain the way his body shuts down as he slumps into an armchair in the living room.

"you, steve harrington, have posters of me on your bedroom wall?" eddie's mouth feels dry as he talks and regrets making coffee at all because he's wide awake now and feels jittery.

"well okay, to be fair, it's of the whole band and it's in my studio but you are shirtless so i contemplated putting it in my bedroom." something shifts on the other end of the line and it sounds like steve sitting down. there's birds chirping in the background and eddie closes his eyes to picture himself sitting with steve on a patio instead of in his dingy apartment.

"you're gonna give me big head, pretty boy." the pet name slips out before he can stop it and the pitch of his voice lowering is out of his control. eddie can't be held responsible for his actions at 8am especially when he's flirting over the phone with his celebrity crush.

"pretty boy, hmm?" steve murmurs back. "so does that mean you have posters of me too?"

the timbre of his voice shoots from eddie's ears all the way down to his toes, lighting his veins on fire as it travels down his body. the hopeful part of his brain supplies an image of steve smirking, relaxing in a pool chair outside of what must be a mansion, phone in one hand and cup of coffee in the other. it could be domestic, if eddie thinks about it hard enough. if he wants it enough.

and god, does he want that. domestic bliss with steve harrington.

"well i wouldn't exactly call picturing you in my dreams every night posters, but it's close enough i guess."

it's gutsy, it's brash, it's too forward for a tuesday morning but steve started it. he hears a shaky exhale on the other end of the line and lets out a chuckle. it feels like they're playing chess and there's no clear cut winner quite yet but if the match ends in a tie, eddie can't exactly say he'd be upset about it.

"i tell you what," steve says in an almost airy voice. "in exchange for giving me my user name, i'll give you my number and you can use it to see me in something other than your dreams tonight."

"...are you bribing me, harrington?"

"is it working?"

eddie takes in a deep breath and thinks about what possible plans he could have with the username 'steveharrington' that would amount to something better than taking the man himself out on a date with his phone number saved as a contact in his phone. he'd put a heart next to it and everything.

"of course it is."

the call drops away and it's quick enough for eddie to think everything that happened in the last 30 minutes could have been a fever dream but then there's three dots on the message thread and his hopeful heart starts to kick back into gear.

"213-555-5469. let me know when you've given up that username and i'll let you know when to pick me up. it's a win-win all around. turns out we each get to go a date with our celebrity crushes, how lucky is that?"

it's signed with a kissing face emoji and eddie's glad that he's sitting down when the last picture steve sends comes through. he's grinning in a way eddie's never seen before, blush high on his cheeks, sweaty shoulders and collarbones and pecs glinting in the early morning sun, and eddie thinks it's probably too early to be in love with someone but he's well on his way.

he texts the number he's sent without hesitation and without shaking hands this time. he signs the message with a black heart like it's a signature of it's own.

"lucky indeed."

[multi-fandom-imagine]

What does Stan's and Ford's opinion on hickeys or love biting?

A/n: Hehehe i love this

•Stanley Pines•

Absolutely loves it, this man loves to mark you, loves to mark your body. Stan doesn't care if anyone see's the little love bites that litter your skin. His heart races a little bit faster when the marks on your skin peak through the shirt's or anything else that shows off your neck.

Favorite places to mark you?

Neck-Stan is possessive. He likes knowing that you picked him out of everyone.

Wrists-Soft kisses, small bites. Just barely visible but he know's they are there.

Inner thigh- whenever you're intimate, whenever the man is eating you out he loves to leave marks on your inner thigh. Sucking and biting the skin.

Stan is big on love bites and marking you.

•Stanford Pines•

While Ford loves to mark you, he likes to do it in less obvious spots. Don't get him wrong this man is possessive, even more so than Stan but he likes to keep that to himself. He likes knowing that he is the one marking you. He is the one that makes you cry out his name.

Ford wouldn't hesitate to pull you in for a kiss around some assholes but those little marks, those little love bites are meant for him.

Favorite place to mark you?

Inner thigh-this man cannot get enough of it. He loves marking your thighs.

Inner wrist- just for him, only for his eyes but he can't help but get an ego boost if someone see's it.

Breasts- This has to be his favorite part to mark you. God's you look so good, the marks barely peaking out through your clothes.

[werecreature-addicted]

I have been waiting for this! This has been stuck in my head since you mentioned how there's too many werewolf x bunny fics.

Imagine there's a village of prey hybrids. All the villagers that live there are some kind of prey animal.

The village is very peaceful, but is the target of a tribe of predator hybrids that dwell in the deepest part of the forest.

Every year, these predator hybrids would attack the prey village and would kidnap any villager unlucky enough to be caught.

These attacks typically happen around mid to late spring, from dusk to well into the night.

The prey villagers always hide around this time, but at least one to three people end up being taken.

Last year was one of the reader's friends. A sweet little sheep that was said to be taken by a large male black wolf. Poor girl was likely eaten by that horrible beast! (In a way she was eaten~)

This year, it is reader's turn.

Reader is a deer hybrid that got caught while out gathering food in the forest. Only to be jumped by a strong and handsome male mountain lion hybrid and taken back to his tribe.

There reader finds her friend as well as other people from her village, all well and alive and with large clearly pregnant bellies as well as a few children.

Turns out the predator tribe has been taking people from your village as their mates. Even treating their prey mates with the utmost care.

Something the reader will understand fully once she's been bred with her first litter of cubs.

your parents had always warned you to be careful when you left the safety of the village, especially during spring when nearby predators would go into heat and kill little deer girls like you to feed to keep up their strength. You were so careful, the fastest in the herd, the best at running away, no predator could ever catch you....other people weren't so lucky. Every year a few people would go missing, trail too close to the border, stay out foraging after sunset, and disappear.

Most of the time, you don't know the prey who gets taken, but sometimes you do, like when your best friend got dragged off by a horrifying wolf. You grieved the loss of your friend and redoubled your commitment to safety... but you got cocky. you were the fastest in your age group, no one could catch you, especially not some heavy, slow predator.

It's a warm spring evening, the breeze gentle and sweet, smelling like honeysuckle and green grass. the sunsets casting the valley in golden light, your basket is full of fat wild blackberries. how could anything go wrong on a day like this? A twig snaps to your right, and you turn and freeze, looking carefully at the tree line. you don't see anything... but your heart is still racing, by the time you spot the hungry green eyes peering up at you it's already too late. you take off running, but for once, you aren't fast enough.

The mountain lion pounces and lifts you off of your feet, throwing you easily over his broad shoulders, you freeze, your heart beating faster and faster, you need to think, he hasn't killed and eaten you yet- maybe you could escape, you just need to keep your head.

It's a much shorter journey to the preditor village than you would have thought, you'd never traveled far from home so you had no idea that they were so close this whole time. What's even more surprising is the amount of prey animals, wandering around town and looking happy. A rabbit boy with big floppy ears hanging off the arm of a buff-looking wolf, a deer hybrid like yourself flirting with two different lions, and a sheep- a sheep that you recognize. Your eyes go wide as it clicks into place. the people being taken weren't being killed at all.

The mountain lion puts you down and looks at you closely, evaluating you. "I wasn't too rough was I? You're not hurt?" he asks. you shake your head slowly

"n-no. I'm not hurt just- scared," you admit shyly. He nuzzles you comfortingly,

"awe, don't worry my mate, I'll keep you safe... I won't let anything happen to you, no one else will touch you while you're with me," he purrs and you shift, embarrassed to tell him that it was him you were afraid of. although you had to admit if this big scary mountain lion is guarding you, and claiming you as their mate, you do feel a little safer.

[glossysoap]

fresh ink ; simon riley

thigh riding with simon. courtesy to @vgilantee & i’s brain rot in this post <3

warnings/tags: voice kink, dirty talk, size kink (big hands, broad shoulders, etc), thigh riding, squirting, cum eating, afab reader (fem genitalia and “girly” pet names i guess, but no mention of she/her pronouns)

word count: almost 1.5k

He saw you eyeing the fresh ink, drinking in all of the details and enjoying how they contrasted against his skin. He saw the way your eyes gravitated towards his thigh, and he was so cocky about it.

He saw how antsy you were for it to heal, how your eyes were practically glued to it whenever his legs were exposed. Whenever he stepped out of the shower, or when he was climbing into your bed. Your eyes would almost instantly gravitate to the plastic wrapped flesh of his thigh, drinking in any details that decorated his skin.

You were too busy ogling his new ink to notice, but his lips would always stretch into a grin when he sees you staring at it.

He’s just as cocky when it finally heals. Even more so, maybe.

He would be wearing a smirk as he steps out of the bathroom, skin wet and hair damp from a fresh shower. Only wearing black skin tight briefs, which did nothing to hide how hard he was.

You would be sitting on the king size bed, all curled up and waiting for him as the television droned on in the background.

Your eyes brightened when you saw him, then they widened when you saw him almost completely exposed for you. You soaked up every inch of his exposed skin, every ripple of muscle and every bruise or scar that littered his body. It all made him who he was, your Simon.

Then your eyes landed on his thigh.

You drank in every line of intricate black ink that decorated his right thigh. The dark ink of every skull and knife was a harsh contrast against his pale skin, but it just made you want to trace every delicate detail even more.

You wanted to feel his warm skin under your fingers, muscles rippling beneath his flesh.

You ended up doing a lot more than just touching his skin when, moments after sitting down next to you, he grabs your hips and pulls you onto his lap.

You gasp as you’re yanked from your position on the bed, your hands moving to grab his broad shoulders to steady yourself. You grip his hard muscles, almost like an anchor.

“C’mon, doll. Bring that pussy down on my thigh.” He says, his voice thick and honeyed with lust. Brown eyes burning into you and making you struggle to maintain eye contact. “I know you want to. Been seein’ you stare at it all the damn time,” You simultaneously feel shivers run down your spine because of his voice, and you feel your face burn from embarrassment. You had been staring ever since he got the new tattoo, but you thought you were being at least a little bit inconspicuous.

Obviously not.

“Go on, then. Pull those panties to the side and grind that cunt down on my thigh. Can already feel you soakin’ through ‘em.” Your breath hitched with every vulgar word that fell from his lips. He wasn’t wrong. You could feel your heart race in your chest and your stomach grow warm and tight, so you wouldn’t be surprised if you had gotten wet too.

“Si,” You couldn’t help but whine as your thighs clenched around his tattooed thigh. You didn’t even know what you were begging for, it’s just like you needed to beg. You needed to whine.

It didn’t help that this entire time you could feel his hard cock brushing up against your kneecap, barely restrained by his briefs.

He grinned at both your whine and your thighs clenching around his.

“Am I right? You soakin’ through your panties?” He asked with an almost mocking lilt to his voice as he held your gaze. “Should I check? Should I see how wet your little cunt is?” He didn’t even give you an opportunity to respond before he continued, “Yeah, let’s see.”

Your dazed eyes follow his big hand as it trails down your stomach and dips underneath your panties. Your breath hitches when his cold fingers grazed your folds, trailing along your entrance and gathering your juices.

Just like he suspected, you were soaked.

He couldn’t help but laugh under his breath. Then he brought his glistening digits back up to his face.

“Look at that. All slick jus’ from the thought of riding my thigh.” He comments almost casually, lifting his thick, shiny fingers up for you to see.

Then he raised those fingers up to his mouth and sucked them clean.

You swore you could feel your clit throbbing at the sight of his tongue dart out and lick at your juices that coated his fingers. Especially with how he never broke eye contact the entire time.

“Mmm, taste so fuckin’ good, doll. Always do.” He praises you, his honeyed eyes still burning into yours. “Love your juices. Love that sweet cunt. Go on, I want you to drench my thigh. Jus’ like I know you’ve been dreamin’ about.”

With that, he wasted no time in all but yanking your flimsy panties to the side — letting your pussy hit flush against his tattooed thigh.

Then his big hands went right back to their place on your hips, gripping you firmly yet gently. Your hips moved on their own accord as you started grinding on his thigh, biting your lip as the sensations started building in your stomach.

Your whines inadvertently became muffled as you bit your lip, and Simon didn’t like that.

“No, no, no. None o’ that. You’re gonna let out every whine and whimper and moan. Every pathetic little noise that falls from those pretty lips.” He orders gruffly, squeezing your hips to emphasize his point.

Then, to almost prove how serious he was, he started assisting you with your grinding by dragging your hips along his thigh. Pushing them back towards his knee, then pulling towards his hip. Rinse and repeat.

“Oh!” You gasp as your cunt rubs against his thigh, along the jagged scars and tattooed skin. The texture of his skin and the scratchy hair on his thigh only served to add to the stimulation.

“That feel good, love?”

You moan out with a nod, your hands holding onto his shoulders with almost bruising grip. You desperately ride his thigh, clawing towards your orgasm that you’d been so hungry for.

“Mmm, good pet.”

You whimper and moan unabashedly, loving how his hard muscular thigh felt against your cunt. With every grind, your clit rubbed deliciously against his skin and made you cry out in pleasure.

Tears prick at your eyes as pleasure builds in your stomach.

Soon, you had built a rhythm. Your juices from your cunt had coated his tattooed thigh, making wet noises echo through the room with every pass of your pussy along his thigh.

You had built a steady pace as you grind on his thigh, his big hands still helping you maintain that speed no matter how tired you might get.

Your orgasm approached quickly, after a few minutes of riding, and that knot in your stomach grew tighter and tighter with each pass of your swollen clit along his thigh.

“Mm, fuck!” You moaned as you felt yourself growing dangerously close to your orgasm. You knew you wouldn’t be able to last much longer.

“Aw, you’re close? Do you think you can soak my thigh? Think you can drench it with that fuckin’ delicious slick?” He croons with a sickly sweet tone to his voice.

“Mm-hmm!” You moan out, eyes glossed over as your hips rut desperately against him. “Feels so fucking good.”

“Go on then, gush all over my thigh. Leave it all wet with your juices.” He encourages, his big hands still firmly guiding your hips along his thigh. “C’mon, you can do it. I know you can—,” He was cut off by you choking on a sharp cry of pleasure as your orgasm crashed over you like a tidal wave. Your hips stuttered as you squirted on his tattooed skin, gushing your juices on the fresh black ink. His hands kept moving your hips back and forth, though, to help you ride out your orgasm.

“There you go, doll.”

©️ glossysoap 2024. please do not steal, copy, plagiarize, translate, or repost any of my works without my permission. do not steal any elements of my theme without permission.

🏷️: @divine--serenity @violet-phantoms @jumbojazzcats93 @ghastlybirdie @warenai @viylikescats @cassiecasluciluce @lilpothoscuttings @krakenbabe @lordlydragon @bunnyreaper @blackrose4242 @ansaturn @luvecarson @kenqki @luvmeijii @zittles3000 @theloneshadow24 @moonriseoverkyoto @loveyhoneydovey @vgilantee @stargirlrchive @itzzjxlyn

[eupheme]

— common ground [into the fire, part iii]

part i | part ii | masterlist

cooper howard / the ghoul x f!reader

rated e - 4k

tags: dubcon, power dynamics, vault dweller!reader, bounty hunting, pwp, sex for favors, 1 spank, sub/dom elements, light degradation, use of chems, shotgunning chems, riding, PiV, canon-typical violence and death

a/n: the scene where he complained about doing all the work had me like 👀 (reimagining), so here we go! 💖

“S’that right? Need me to fuck you? Fill up that greedy little cunt?”

His head tipping back as he hums, as if disappointed. Each word exaggerated, with his slow drawl, “Well, I’d sure like to sweetheart… but it seems to me like I’ve been doing an awful lot of work around here.”

“Findin’ this place. Cleanin’ it out. Gettin’ you clothes.” A sigh, before his voice drops, “Makin’ you come.”

“Think you oughta return the favor, don’t you?”

(Or - you take the Ghoul for a ride)

"Fuck!”

You crouch outside as another loud shotgun blast fires - the wooden door next to you peppering with bullets.

This wasn't what you had in mind.

You had thought you'd find a chem station in the next town. A pharmacy, an old hospital. Something somewhat respectable - not standing watch as the Ghoul blew his way through a long-abandoned two-story home.

The layered yelling dies off with each pull of his trigger, until everything going silent.

He finds you there a moment later, still curled in on yourself. A roll of his eyes when he sees you - still unused to the violence.

"It's clear." The Ghoul beckons, "Let's find that station."

You follow him inside, your gaze boring a hole into his back. Trying hard not to look down, nose wrinkling when you almost trip over a set of legs that sprawl across the floor.

A hand pinches at your elbow, keeping you upright.

"What?" He asks, at your expression.

"Did you have to..." You start, as he checks down the hallway.

It's empty - the doors leading to two bedrooms. The bed frames bare and rusted, the rooms already picked through.

A shrug, "They shot first."

"You goaded them."

You could hear him, even from outside. That knowing tone - some kind of warning. A rough laugh, and then the firefight had started.

"We're looking for a chem station, sweetheart." He scoffs, head cocking as he backs you up against the door he just closed, "Think they're gonna share with you like you’re on a goddamn play date?"

"They-" You blink up at him, "They might have."

He clicks his tongue, giving you a long look,"You still got a lot to learn, Vaultie."

A second, before he steps away.

"These weren't those kind of people."

You find it in the basement. A man slumped just outside the cracked-open door, the weathered lab coat stained and splattered red on the left-hand side.

Anything salvageable from above must have been brought down here. Three threadbare mattresses behind a makeshift wall. A long couch that faces a television that still runs, the picture blurry with static.

The station sits along the back wall. A beaker still bubbles over the burner, the smell acrid. Bottles litter the surface - something being made in a batch.

Your mind is already racing ahead, eyes scanning for things you'll need. Too-large gloves shoved on, disposing of the burnt mixture while you search for an empty glass.

Missing how he angles the couch to watch, feet propped up on the wooden coffee table. That ever-steady wariness waning with your focus, the tension in his shoulders easing as he sinks into the cushion.

You're too busy to notice. Sorting the different ingredients, littered across the counter.

There's an excess of toxic soot flowers, their petals papery between your fingers. Opened packages of Med-X, a spilled pile of Buffout. A jar of acid.  

Psycho. Cut with something else, something stronger. You think the Ghoul was right - maybe you had been foolish to underestimate them.

You try to shake the thought away, as you gather what you need. Antiseptic, from your own bag. Three jars of glowing fungus, found beneath the sagging counter. Ground up and tipped into a dusty beaker, the heat turned down low.

"Can you get me some water?" You call from over your shoulder, a jar held in your hand.

There's no answer. Silence, until something hard presses into your back, pinning you against the table.

It feels familiar, the way his hips nudge against yours, and it sends your mind back. An urge to arch - bend low. Mimicking the days before, where you can still feel the twinge of him with the stretch of your thighs.

"You think you're callin' the shots now, sweetheart?" His voice is low, the brim of his hat brushing your head as he leans over your shoulder.

"No," You squeak - caught off-guard, "I just-, I can't leave this until it thickens."

"Mm.” His hum is low. “Too bad. Would've liked to see you try.”

Heat blooms in your cheeks at his words, that rough drawl, even after the last couple days. A thin layer of suggestion in his tone, as he shifts closer - his chest bumping into your back.

Your mind flickering through possibilities, before his voice cuts through.

“Said you need water?”

"Yes. Please," The nod you give is small - you have to start your stirring over, losing your rhythm, "I saw a few cartons in the kitchen. If you don't mind."

"Polite little thing, when you're distracted," He husks, "I'll have to remember that."

The Ghoul makes no effort to move, though. Fingers wrapping around the glass. His other hand gripping the edge of the table, boxing you in. You wonder if he can hear the way your heart thuds in your chest, eyes fixed firmly on your work.

“Where’d you learn to do this?”

It takes you a second to answer - he’d had never offered many questions. Responses that were no more than a couple of words, over the stretch of long hours on the road.

“Uh, my Vault. We were short on hands, my mother was a chemist.” Your words are slow - a still-painful topic, “Used to make all kinds of stuff. Medicine and… and chems, alike.”

People who left were always brought back. Dazed and half-sick from the world above, whatever they had seen. Left at your doorstep to be patched up, if they made it that long.

You always told yourself that wouldn’t be you.

That when you were gone, you’d stay that way.

“Hm.” His tone flattens, “Wouldn’t have guessed. Don’t seem the type.”

“Yeah?” You head turns, catching his shadowed ones. Leaning into the welcome diversion, “What type do I seem like, then?”

The Ghoul’s eyes narrow, an unconscious flick down to your mouth.

“Trouble.” He husks, with a shallow roll of his hips. You can’t help the short inhale that he’s certain to hear, the way your fingers tighten around your instruments.

“Though I’m still workin’ out what kind.”

It’s there that he leaves you. Flustered and silently revisiting evenings before, a familiar anticipation curling low inside you.

The steps creak behind you as he slips upstairs. Returning some time later with what you need - twirling a dented pot found in the kitchen, so you can purify it. Folding himself onto the couch when you tell him it will be a while.

A cut glass decanter salvaged as well, that he drinks directly from. A rough gasp as the bitter alcohol floods through him. Helping himself to the chems that litter the tabletop - before his feet kick up, the hat tipped low over his face.

You think he does rest - a rarity.

You examine him then - as you wait for the water to boil, and then cool, before you can use it to mix with the other components.

Taking the rare chance to do it freely.

In the Wasteland you’ve learned to stay cautious. That you can’t fall behind. That surely he would notice, if your gaze lingered on him for too long.

But here, time seems to slow for a moment. Nothing to do but wait, as your fingers drift to your neck. Pressing into the bruise, as if you could feel the indents of his teeth.

His presence feels the same.

A mark left on you. Something you can’t help but want to touch, even if it aches. A reminder that lingers, and there’s a part of you that wishes it would stay.

It has you wondering, as your eyes sweep across him. Over the long-faded clothes, hiding rough and reddened skin - every inch of him wrapped away.

If you got close enough-

Would you find that he bore a mark of his own?

You make enough for a little over two weeks. Carefully poured and sealed into a variety of small bottles and tubes you’ve scavenged, scraping out every last bit that you can.

In the less-than-stellar conditions, it didn’t turn out so bad. The vials you had seen him buy was a thin, piss-yellow that had made you cringe. Poor work to begin with, and that was even before it was cut with more water.

What you offer out to him is thick - a sheen clinging to the glass as it sloshes, when it passes from your hand to his.

Liquid gold, in comparison.

“Mm.” The Ghoul hums - eyes greedy, as he examines, holding it up to the bit of light.

Before they’re focusing on you. Flickering from head to toe - considering - before his legs spread a bit wider. A hand clapping down against a thigh.

The look you give him is blank. A squeak when his fingers hook around one of your belt loops and pulls - hauling you onto his lap.

“You think I’m just gonna take somethin’ you cooked up?” His brow lifts, hands pinching against your hips, “Not a chance, sweetie. I think we oughta try this together.”

The Ghoul’s fingers slip up then, rucking up the hem of your shirt. His tone turning knowing.

“And I don’t think you’ve got enough in you.”

Your cheeks burn at his insinuation. More than aware, your breath catching as the rough tips of his leather gloves drag across your skin.

“Bet I’ve been leakin’ out of you since last time.” The Ghoul rasps, “Wouldn’t want to waste this, would we?”

He’s solid beneath you. Your thighs splitting on either side of his waist, knees digging into old cushions. Close enough to kiss - if you weren’t so certain he’d bite.

Lost though, on how to proceed. You don’t know the rules to his game. Always keeping you at arms-length - wrists bound, caught in his grip.

Would he let you touch him?

He mistakes your hesitance, his brow pinching.

“Spent enough time starin’. Lookin’ like you wanted to take a ride.” Acid slips into his tone, teeth bared, “Change your mind, now you’ve got a front row seat?”

That knocks you out of your thoughts - embarrassed that you were caught staring at him. Annoyed by his assumption. A scoff, as your hips start to move, a slow roll. Hands coming up to rest against his shoulders, meeting his eyes.

They’re pretty, like the rest of him. Shades of light brown - looking like they’re caught the sun, even underground. Thick lashes, above the deep hollow of sunken eye sockets, the split cavern of his missing nose.

Something that had startled you, the first time you saw him. Now, you hardly even notice. And his mouth -

“I’m not scared of you.” You murmur, watching the way his lip curls in a sneer. A soft sound bitten back as you grind down, feeling how he’s stiff beneath you.

You wonder how long he’s been this way. Hard, from watching you work. Waiting.

Another exchange, though you wish you could tell him it doesn’t have to be that way. You had meant what you said, when you had made your offer - even if you mean it a little differently, now.

Maybe you still could.

“You should be,” The Ghoul growls - hands ghosting over your sides, up to the thin cotton, “If you had any goddamn sense. Letting me touch you like this-”

A hand is cupping your breast now. A hard swipe of his thumb against your stiff peak, your fingers biting down into his jacket.

Your hips jerk against his. A soft moan, when the seam of your pants catches against your clit - leaving you clenching around nothing.

“I want you to.” You confess - catching the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head, “Told you, whatever you want.”

The Ghoul makes a rough sound in his throat, watching as you tug the cups down to fit beneath your breasts, putting yourself on display for him.

“Haven’t learned, have you?” He warns, his voice low, “Don’t make an offer you can’t follow through on.”

The pinch of his fingers sends an ache down to settle between your thighs, the hint of pain pairing with your pleasure.

Your own hand wandering, wanting to see more. Sliding against a leather vest, the stained shirt beneath that was once as blue as your suit. Frayed, looping embroidery on the faded collar.

Feeling the warmth of his skin as you tug at the snap at his throat. An inch, and then another, before he’s catching your hand.

Dragging it up to his shoulders, fixing you with a look, “You best keep those right here.”

“You don’t want me to touch you?” You ask, eyes flicking down to the peek of skin at his throat.

“I want these off.” He tells you instead, snapping the waistband of your pants against skin.

You have to leave him to do it. Watching the way his arms stretch across the back of the sofa, as you kick the pants off, then your underwear beneath.

Bare again, as you settle. Fitting yourself against the curve of his cock. Leather and metal kissing your skin as you move against him, until his lips are parted with a ragged breath.

You can feel your muscles clench. The slick slide of your pussy against his bulge, barely nudging at that deep-seated ache to be filled.

“Makin’ a mess, sweetheart.” He husks, his hips lifting to meet yours. Gloved hands moving to curl around your waist - pulling you down to meet him, coaxing a lazy rhythm from you.

“Rubbin’ up against me like a bitch in heat. Should make you clean that up.”

It coaxes a whine from you, as you let him move you. The sound does something to you - the layered approval in his tone, the low rasp of his voice. Not so unaffected as he seems, with how hard he is beneath you.

He must see it in your expression, a hand leaving the couch to grasp at your chin. Flexing up and into you, letting you feel the hard ridge of him.

“This what you want, sweetheart?”

Making you meet his gaze, as you answer. All dark eyes and the flash of teeth, under the brim of his hat.

“Yes.” You keen, “I need you, please-”

“S’that right? Need me to fuck you? Fill up that greedy little cunt?”

His head tipping back as he hums, as if disappointed. Each word exaggerated, with his slow drawl, “Well, I’d sure like to sweetheart… but it seems to me like I’ve been doing an awful lot of work around here.”

The hand leaves your chin to drop down. Slowly loosening a belt buckle, letting it pool on the cushions. Your cheeks heating when you see the slick shine to the front of his pants, where you’ve rutted yourself against him.

“Findin’ this place. Cleanin’ it out,” His eyes are on yours - your breath short as he tugs the zipper down. “Gettin’ you clothes.”

A sigh, before his voice drops, “Makin’ you come.”

You moan at that, a soft sound caught behind your teeth - fingers pinching into his shoulders.

Waiting for him to draw his cock out - fist wrapped around the base. Flushed and thick in his palm, inches away from where you need him.

The Ghoul does grin then, a wicked thing that shows his teeth.

“Think you oughta return the favor, don’t you?”

He’s giving you an inch - seeing if you’ll try to take a mile. A firm handle, still wrapped around a fist, but loosening the reins.

Letting himself watch.

“Seems fair.” You manage, breathless.

“Then go on,” He husks, “Show me how you can take it.”

Your hand reaches down, but then he’s clicking his tongue - fingers fixing back on his shoulders.

Leaving you to lift your hips. His cock slipping against your slick core, your teeth biting into your lip as you line yourself up - the rough head catching at your entrance.

It’s different this time. Sinking down on him, feeling each inch as it splits you open - instead of suddenly filling you to the hilt.

“Fuck,” You sigh, with the stretch. It twinges deep inside you, where his hips fit against yours.

Lifting yourself only to sink back down, his arms flexing beneath his coat as he lets you ride him, your pace slowly picking up until you’re bouncing on his cock.

As much as you enjoyed last time, there was something about this. Fully able to watch the way his lips part, hear the rattling groan when you tighten around him.

See the way his eyes skate across the bruise on your neck, only to drop down to watch the sway of your tits as your fingers lace behind his neck.

“Goddamn, sweetheart.” His hand flattens against the small of your back. The other gripping your hip, tugging you towards him, “You sure know how to ride.”

Not giving you time to answer, before his head is dipping. The brim of his hat knocking back when it hits your chin - the tips of your fingers just catching it. Slipping it on your own head for safekeeping before he can protest.

It earns you a sharp nip against the curve of your breast, before his lips close around the tight peak of a nipple and sucks.

You cry out, chasing the pressure that builds in your belly. Growing even more wet with the slick swirl of his tongue and the scrape of teeth - his cock grinding against a spongy spot inside you as you arch into his mouth.

“Please,” You whine, fingers flexing and then curling. Needing more friction against your clit, where your heartbeat has dropped and settled.

Trying so hard to listen, a whine between your gritted teeth. Your tits glossy with spit when he leans back, giving you a knowing look.

“You wanna come?” He husks - his eyes dropping, as you nod, “Only if you lean back and show me, sweetheart.”

Relief sings in you, as you adjust. Thighs spreading, as you grip onto his shoulder. Leaning back until he can watch the way he spears into you. How he shines, all slicked up, with each roll of your hips.

Your other hand loses its grip in his coat to slip down, press where your bodies meet.

Fingertips circle, a low moan at the much-needed touch. Your rhythm grows sloppy until his hands hook beneath your thighs. Guiding you into a harsh rhythm, each pound of his cock winding you higher and higher as the couch creaks beneath you.

“Come on, cowpoke.” He rasps, his hand cracking down against your ass, “Is that the best you can do?”

It builds - your fingers pressing harder against the slick bud. Whimpered noises that are more sound than words, as his thighs spread, feet planting so he can drive up into you.

“I said come on.” He growls, “Wanna feel you come on my cock again.”

Like before, it feels like the control slips through your fingers. Your own touch brings you close to that edge, but it’s the pounding of his cock that makes you fall.

Your back arching, crying out as your core clenches. Pleasure bursting deep inside you, racing up your spine and down to the tips of your fingers and pointed toes.

The quick thrust slowa into a lazy grind. A low “atta girl” that he grits out, as he feels the way you come hard around him.

Eyes dropping from your face to watch the greedy press of your fingers as you draw it out - until his own hand is wrapping around your wrist.

Tugging your hand away as the pleasure still courses inside you, hips still chasing the last ripples as you ride his cock.

Bringing your fingers to his mouth. Fitting them against teeth and tongue as his lips close around, tasting the slick that clings to them.

It makes goosebumps raise on your skin. The briefest thrill of fear. Certain that if you pulled your fingers free right now, the flesh and muscle would peel from you - leaving only bones behind.

He groans loudly around them, teeth indenting your skin. Tongue swirling against your knuckles, his hips rocking up to meet yours.

Freeing you, only to grasp at your hips - urging you to move faster. A loud slap of skin until his jaw is clenching - and he’s bringing you down once more against him with a rough sound.

Coming inside you again, but this time you get to see the way his head tips back with his snarl. How his fingers bite into your skin as you feel him throb - throat bared as he spills deep inside you with each rough jerk of his hips.

A flare of something flicking to life in your belly, knowing you did this to him. The groan he made when he tasted you echoing in your mind, giving you something to keep.

You make to move when he goes still, but a hand grips at your hip - holding you in place. Keeping you full of him, as the afterglow still glitters in your veins.

His eyes are dark, fixed on you. Taking in your shadowed, half-lidded gaze - sweat-dewed and bare skinned against him. His hat, still perched on your head. Looking like it belongs there.

A hand digs around in his bag. Pulling out the inhaler for his serum. Snapping it together without his gaze leaving you.

Bringing it to his mouth after - sucking in a deep, held breath. Those eyes closing with a low, contented groan.

A broad hand slips from your hip to splay across the back of your neck, fingers digging into your throat. Pulling you down to him - just as his head tilts to press his lips against yours.

Just as you soften, he exhales - the RadAway flooding through your parted lips. A stinging, metallic taste of iodine that makes you shudder, before you realize he’s deepening the kiss.

You lean into it without thought. The ache in your gums fading with the brush of his tongue. His grip anchoring you in place as he takes, licking into your mouth while his cock still fills you.

Leaving you breathless. Letting him, as your own arms wrap around his shoulders to keep him close. Meeting the messy scrape of teeth and swirl of tongue. The sharp taste fading, layered with the whisky and a hint of you that still lingers.

Before he’s pulling back far too soon, eyes dark as he pants.

“Fuck.” He rasps - his tongue tasting where yours had been, flicking across a lower lip. Before he’s looking at the inhaler - shaking it for another use.

“Looks like I might just have to keep you around.”

You make what you can with the rest of the supplies afterward - waste not, want not. An extra stimpak. Swiping the rest of the mentats, keeping the grape and berry ones for yourself. Refilling your canteen with more of the purified water.

The rest of the chems you gather - packing them in a tin. Tossing them his way, a low whistle when he sees what’s inside.

It’s late enough that the Ghoul decides it’s best to stay here, and leave at dawn. Certain that he will catch up to the bounty tomorrow, already sure of two places where he might be offloading the stolen wares.

You don’t mind. The uneasy thought of sleeping in a house with corpses quickly overshadowed by the real mattresses waiting in the basement. Stained but there’s still bedding - patched up blankets.

A fire, that he coaxes to life in the fireplace upstairs. Dinner, roasting over it.

It almost feels like something. A moment you can play pretend - that these walls will keep you safe.

That maybe you could clean it up.

That maybe he didn’t despise you, and maybe he’d want to stay.

It’s a foolish thought, a sigh as you push it from you. Digging a spoon into the rusted can of Pork ‘N Beans you had scavenged - not trusting the look of the skewer he had been tending.

A thumb running across your lower lip, as you chew. Remember how his had felt. Examining the angry marks pressed into your knuckles. 

His shadow crosses over you, then - you have to crane your neck up to see him. His hat back where it belongs, much like your own clothes.

The tilt of his head, as he considers you again. Before his hand is slipping into the bag that slings across his shoulder.

Gloved fingers curling around something - tossing it silently into your lap, before he’s disappearing upstairs to finish his sweep of the house.

It’s golden, in the light of the fireplace. Seems like he’s already done a little looting of his own. A rolled up bag, the tube and needle tucked inside.

And a bottle of the RadAway you made for him.

save a horse, ride a cowboy and all that 🤠💖 (thank you so much for reading! would love to know what you thought if you enjoyed!)

[missqhughes]

MORE THAN FRIENDS | L. HUGHES43

-> luke hughes x fem! reader

-> contains: angst (resolved), kissing, mentions of underage drinking, mentions of sex and sexual acts, fluff, use of y/n, lowercase intended

-> IN WHICH: all the alcohol has wore off, and y/n finds herself naked in her best friends bed. things take a turn for the worst when luke starts to hint regret towards what they did the night before; but what does that mean for their friendship?

-> part 2 to get comfortable! i’m sorry i can’t just write pure angst i’ll make myself too sad. but dw it’s gonna be so juicy. also if ur missing someone goooooood fucking luck reading this w dry eyes 🫥alsoloveitasmuchasidothankyouhappyreadingggg!

*fic is not proofread

18+ CONTENT BELOW THE CUT

the all too well known pounding headache was the first thing y/n woke up to; oh, and also being completely naked in luke’s bed.

her eyes made their best attempt to adjust to the sunlight that poured into his bedroom. she turned over to her side, and there was luke sleeping peacefully, the blanket dangerously low on his waist, revealing hickies littered all over his v-line and stomach.

with a heavy breath, she checks down her own body; chest abused with hickies, trailing all the way down to her inner thighs. a quick look over to her backside reveals a red, unmistakable hand mark on her ass.

there was no denying that she had sex with luke last night.

y/n feels the bed shifting, a groan coming from the boy next to her.

“oh, you’re already up,”

his voice is horse, a combination of his drowsy state and losing it the night before. y/n turns around to face him, lifting up the comforter to cover her chest, any attempt to conceal her bare body to his now sober eyes.

“yeah, i just woke up literally a minute ago,” she says, a small smile to accompany. his eyes scan over her body, taking in all of it, eyes fluttering in an almost of a surprise of what he had done with it.

“do you… do you remember anything of what we did last night?”

y/n started to recount everything of the night before, how she felt with he was thrusting deep into her, his teeth sinking into her skin. how he looked with his head thrown back when she was on her knees in front of him. how he kissed up and down her back, not daring to let go.

“yeah… yeah i do.” she said, mouth twitching into a smile, anything to cure the tension. luke said nothing.

and there it was.

silence.

silence.

silen-

“i think you should go.” his words were a lot colder and harsher than he intended, but he sat up, refusing eye contact with her.

“you know to like… shower and eat and whatnot.”

nice save, she thought.

“no yeah, you’re right, i’m gonna change then be out of here,” she said, collecting her scattered clothing all over the floor. y/n changed into her short pink dress from the night before, ready for the walk-to-the-uber of shame that was ready to greet her.

while she changed, luke also got himself into a pair of boxers. y/n glanced over to him for a second, the image of him in his boxers, tired eyes and his body left with evidence of sex on it being burned into her brain.

“i’ll see you later yeah?” y/n said, opening the door and expecting luke’s usual response of “always,”

he purse his lips before responding, “bye.”

his words weren’t cold, or harsh, but disconnected.

disconnected from her.

y/n looked back at him, and he was already facing away. she wanted to say something, but didn’t let herself. instead she turned around and left.

——————————————————————————

it had been days since luke had spoken to y/n.

a million and one thoughts were racing in her head, each causing more anxiety than the last. they would come up at random times, like a jumpscare any time she let her thoughts travel to luke.

cooking dinner,

did he think it was bad?

studying,

did he regret what they did?

laying in bed, at approximately 3:46am,

did she ruin their friendship?

enough was enough. she needed answers, and she needed them now.

she knew he had practice this day, so in about 20 minutes, y/n found herself stomping into the yost ice arena, on the prowl to find luke. practice had just ended, and she shoved past the other guys and ignored the looks of confusion they gave her each other.

she ripped open the locker room door to a surpised luke, jersey off, but still in gear. his mouth opened, but y/n wasn’t going to let him get the opportunity to speak before her.

“where the hell do you get off on not speaking to me? huh? is it because we fucked? is that it?”

y/n pointed her finger at him accusingly, her face contorted into a look of disgust, but also sadness, and confusion. she was on the guard, but deep down scared shitless of what he was going to say.

luke sighed heavily, facing away from her and shuffling with the things in his section, “i have no idea what you’re talking about.”

y/n scoffed, “bullshit and you know it. what is it? tell me the truth luke warren. so what, we fucked okay? is that really the only reason you don’t speak to me of all people for days?”

he still had his back away from her, but his with his head dipped down, arms on his side. “it was a mistake. we shouldn’t have done it.”

she felt tears welling up in her eyes, cheeks flushed hot with anger and embarrassment.

“i’m so glad you think that luke,” she paused, making the best effort she could to control the shakyness in her voice, or how her throat burned in an attempt to get the words out. “if this is how you’re going to act after what happened, don’t speak to me now, or ever.”

it stung like hell to say, but she meant it. having enough with the situation, not being able to bear how much it hurt for him to be in her presence, she turned around and walked to the exit.

she didn’t look back. not like last time. but luke did. his body faced her as she slammed the door shut, only catching the last bit of her clothing and hair, her scent lingering where she was standing. his eyes were tinted red from tears, breath caught in his throat from regret with what he said, and even worse, what he didn’t say.

——————————————————————————

weeks had passed since they last spoke.

y/n was a mess. she refused to go out, turning her nose up at even the thought of drinking. her body ached when her mind wandered to luke; what he was doing, how he was doing, if he was thinking of her.

it hurt like hell.

and there she sat, curled up in the shower, recounting the memories her and luke shared. how they were always the first to wish happy birthday to each other. sharing their first middle school class together. sitting by the firepit, talking for hours at the lake house. crying in each others arms when they both got accepted to their shared dream school. graduation. a picture her parents took of them hugging outside their freshman year dorm building. how they held each other when no one else would understand, how they would still laugh their asses off even when no one would understand the joke but them.

oh, how he understood her. how fiercely they cared for one another, how he was always there, how she loved him, how it was always him. if it was one person she could choose, over and over again, it was luke.

but he was gone. just like that.

y/n had been in there for so long her fingers were wrinkled, and the water had turned a numbing coolness. she forced herself to get out, thanking to god that none of her roommates were home, knowing how pissed they’d be about her water usage.

she changed into sweatpants first, then begrudgingly putting on one of luke’s sweatshirts, a dark blue crewneck that read “michigan hockey” across it. y/n knew it would hurt to wear it, but she wanted any bit of luke left she could have.

about 10 minutes had passed, y/n was combing through her slightly damp hair, when she heard a knock at the door.

she went up to answer it, thinking one of her roommates was back and had just forgotten their key.

instead, y/n was met with a clearly unwell luke. his eyes were dark from lack of sleep, lips resting in a frown, all resting on a somber face to top it all off.

she felt like she was hallucinating. that she was in a dream, that her body was going to twitch and bring her back down to earth, back to reality. back to sitting down combing her hair, luke nowhere in sight.

they said nothing but everything at the same time. their expressions exactly matched, but still not quite knowing what the other was thinking.

“luke,” she breathed out, his name in the air barely above a whisper. y/n’s eyes fluttered, the emotions coming in like they never did before.

“can i come in, please?” his voice cracked, his expression pleading her to come in more than his words did.

she nodded, moving out of the way so he could step in. she sat over to walk on the couch, adding a pillow to her lap, hoping luke wasn’t able to see her body shaking and riddled with anxiety at his presence. but also comfort, and hope.

“why are you here luke?” y/n asked, demanding to know why he randomly showed up, after weeks of silence between them.

he ran his hands through his curls, biting his lip harshly before delivering his answer, “i need to be honest, i needed to tell the truth to you.”

“i thought you did that when we talked in the locker room,” she hissed, “all of that sounded pretty truthful to me.”

she didn’t want to rude, but how could he say that after practically punching her in the gut that day?

“no, you don’t understand,” he kneeled down to her level, unable to control the shaky hands that he brought up to hold his head in.

“then help me understand luke,” y/n voice was much softer this time, chest throbbing with pain seeing luke in more distress than she has ever seen him in.

“i was scared,” he said in a short breath, teardrops painting his cheeks, “i was scared after what we did because i thought it meant nothing to you, that we were just drunk. that you would tell me that you regret what we did, but i didn’t. not once.”

her gaze bounced between his hazel eyes, shocked at the news he was telling her. his face didn’t relax once, as he continued his truth, “i’m so in love with you y/n. i’m so scared you don’t feel the same way. i care about you, i need you, i feel so fucking…so fucking lost when you’re not there. nothing has felt the same.”

“i should’ve told you the truth, and i’m sorry.” his voice cracked again, and now luke was in full on sobs.

y/n could say nothing yet, still in shock, now again feeling like she was hallucinating. she opened her arms, and luke sat down on the couch with her and came crashing in.

he buried his face in the crook of her neck, arms tightly wrapped around her, terrified that if he let go she would be gone again. he cried into her, taking in her scent, her warm skin, her gentle touch, all of which he missed dearly.

“i love you, luke. i love you, i should’ve said it sooner,” y/n felt the pain that had accumulated for weeks begin to disappear in minutes with luke, the only ailment to her sickness. he sighed, pressing his forehead to hers with closed eyes.

“we both should’ve said it sooner, i’m so sorry y/n. i cant let you go. not now, now ever,” he held her tighter than ever, shifting his head to plant a soft kiss on her forhead.

she cupped his face in her hands, seeing him look at her with so much love made her stomach flutter.

“you have me luke, always.”

that’s when he kissed her. it was night and day between the first time their lips met. the first was new, lustful, wavering in its stability. this time, it was familiar, warm and feeling like they both could go on like this forever. their lips moved in perfect harmony, y/n crawling atop luke’s lap to bring herself as close to him as she possibly could.

they just barely pulled away, desperately needing to catch their breaths.

“now you’re never getting rid of me lu,” she giggled,

“wouldn’t even dream of it,” luke said, laying her down on the couch in her fit of giggles, peppering sweet kisses all over her face.

——————————————————————————

© missqhughes

xoxo, kaia

[wegc]

heheh back to bother you with more spicy thoughts :3

Thoughts on biting kink?? i just keep thinking about what ot8 reaction would be after seeing the damage that y/n would do hehe purple hickeys littering their bodies not a spot untouched, bite marks still slightly visible, having to wear long sleeves and turtle necks to cover the evidence which makes y/n that all her hard work is being covered 😵‍💫 definitely feel like most of them would relish in the fact that y/n wants people to know that their man is taken already ,, sorry but I’m a sucker for possessive kink :3

anywhooo hope your doing well and that your day went as amazing as you !!

-🧸

saw biting kink and IMMEDIATELY thought of lee minho!!!

ot8 reaction to you leaving hickeys on them!!!

chan would be so giggly and flustered when he caught sight of the hickeys scattered across his body and would take a couple of pictures so he could look back on them. since he is an idol, he does have to conceal them, plus, he’s so shy!!! when you get pouty about it, he finds you so cute and feels so giddy inside because he adores it when you’re possessive. he wants you to tell him that he’s yours, that he belongs to no one else but you—if you ever tell him any of those things while you guys are fucking, he’s creaming FOR SURE.

minho would smirk and tease you about it, playfully grumbling about the marks while secretly attempting to hide his red ears because he feels butterflies in his stomach every time he catches a glimpse of them. though he does have to conceal them while he’s working, he makes no effort to hide them while he’s at home or with friends because he gets a kick out of people knowing that he’s yours and that yes!!! lee minho got some!!! he’s also the type to litter hickeys on you and would further use a makeup wipe to clean away the concealer you’re using to hide them.

changbin would be so ANNOYING omfg—he’s giggling in your face, facetiming his friends or the members to boast about the purple bruises because he’s so proud that he’s yours!!! changbin adores the idea of someone being obsessed with him so the thought that you, the love of his life, his number one—the person that drives him crazy is just as insane about him makes him so delighted. he gets pouty and whiney when they wear off and demands that you give him more once they’ve completely faded off because “they’re apart of him.”

hyunjin would feign playful annoyance and would whine about how much of a nuisance it is to cover them, but really, he’s endeared and finds them almost artistic, in a way. the underlying intention of hickeys—to claim someone, its inherent territoriality, their origin in the act of lovemaking as a symbol of adoration—how can hyunjin not romanticize them? he smiles softly every time he sees them and brushes the tips of his fingers against the bruised skin. one day, when they fade away, he’ll lay his head on your lap, straining his neck as an offering, silently asking for more. take me, he’d whisper.

jisung would treasure them because number 1: it feels so good receiving them (han jisung moaning like a girl agenda will always prevail) and number 2: he feels so cherished. jisung can’t help but feel small when you tell him you want others to understand he’s yours and that you’ve claimed him. he’d nod, a lazy grin on his face, eyes glossing over and looking at you cheerily, completely and utterly love-sick. “yeah,” he mumbles. “i suppose the marks are useful… can i give them to you?” cue him begging to let him give you hickeys, loudly whining and rolling his eyes when you reject him.

felix would mention the hickeys now and then to fluster you but abruptly shrinks when you stare at him intensely and tell him that you want others to know that he’s taken. “oh,” he’d whisper, feeling his cheeks blush and his heart race. he still feels flustered when you laugh and tell him that you’re joking because he never knew he could like something so much. he feels his heart drop when you continue, absentmindedly suggesting that you’d stop if he wanted, to which he quickly shakes his head to. “i don’t want you to stop,” he’d breathe out. “give me as many as you’d like.”

seungmin is someone that i don’t particularly see going so crazy over them. while covering them up is a hassle, he walks around with them freely at home and in the dorms, clapping back whenever a member teases him about it. instead of focusing on the marks, he rather relishes the sentiment behind them and revels in the way you show your passion and possessiveness over him. i can see him staring at the bruises when he misses you exceptionally, or maybe when he’s extra pent up, he strokes himself in front of the mirror, eyes narrowed at the purple marks you’ve littered on his body. not like he’d tell you that though!!!

jeongin laughs at you about it but also loves them so much, and repeatedly asks you why you leave them on his body even though he knows why. he’s attentively listened to your reasoning behind it at least 50 times; but how can you stop telling him when he gets so giddy and smiley every time you remind him that he’s yours and that no one else can have him? he’d nod, eyes crinkling in delight and would sigh happily, unable to make eye contact with you. he takes photos of his marked body and begs to leave some on you so you guys can have matching wallpapers. he’ll have your marked body as his, and you’ll have his as yours!

[jamminvroomvroom]

Hey girlll I love your blog so so so much! Congrats on the 4k bc you absolutely deserve it🫶🏼

I just had a little angsty request for Charles lando or Oscar (you can pick any you’re feeling more atm, I eat up anything ab my boys)

I saw this prompt maybe you could use - - "I can be there when you need me!" "But I did, and you weren't."

late night talking.

op x fem norris!reader

in which lando’s little sister has been sneaking around with his teammate, but it’s starting to have its challenges…

hiiiii thank u sm anon! love this request love you MWAH! so appreciative of this request and all of the others and that y’all trust me to bring your ideas to life!! i hope this hits the way you wanted it to! let me know what you think, big love 🤍

songs to set the mood: late night talking by harry styles, i love you by billie eilish, over my head by james marriott, if these walls could talk by 5sos

warnings: 18+!! minors dni!! smut, angst, fluff, a bit of hurt/comfort, secret relationship, brothers teammate trope (r is lando’s sister), fingering, morning sex, angsty needy sex, lando being an embarrassing little shit

4.1k words

sex and talking. sex and talking. sex and talking.

that’s what you do, oscar and you.

you watch him all weekend, eyes trailing his lean frame, the way his body moves under papaya fabric. then, when your brother finally leaves you alone, you sneak into oscar’s arms, room, bed, whatever’s closest.

you have your way with one another, nothing untouched, unexplored, and then you talk and talk until your lips hurt from stretched out grins and a satisfying ache sets into your spent limbs. you sneak out when the sun comes up the next day and join lando for breakfast in whatever hotel you’re in that weekend.

rinse, repeat.

you can remember the first time you saw him in real life, way back in early 2023, clear as day. you were in bahrain with your brother for testing, the sun in your eyes, and there he was. awkward, stocky, hands buried deep in his mclaren administered slacks. he was littered with moles, mousey brown hair catching the rays of light, chocolate eyes conveying cool confidence that didn’t at all match up with his uncomfortable stance. you could kiss over those moles like a game of dot to dot, tug on his strands that looked like smooth chocolate frosting, sink into his brown irises until you drowned.

lando had caught you staring, sending his elbow into your ribs, and when you turned to glare at him, cuss him out, you saw a look of warning. his eyes said: don’t you fucking dare.

and you didn’t dare, not for a while at least.

-

“o-osc.” you whine, panting through the waves of eye-watering pleasure.

he’s got you laid out across his massage table, two fingers scissoring into your sodden cunt as his thumb bumps your clit in messy circles.

it’s rare that you sneak away so brazenly like this during a race weekend.

“you gotta be quiet.” oscar shushes you, eyes flitting between your own watery pair and his fingers where they’re working you open.

“trying.” you breathe, slapping your own hand over your mouth when your belly tightens one last time. one wrong move and the entirety of the hospitality suite will know. lando will know. perhaps all of china will know. that’s how good he fucking feels.

you sob into your palm, bucking your hips wildly as you fall apart, spilling all around his relentless fingers. he fucks you through it, grinning coyly as your muffled cries subside.

“c’mere.” oscar lulls, pulling you back towards him. he kisses you deeply, smiling against your lips.

“i should go.” you mumble, pushing his hair back and raking your fingers through his hair.

oscar nods apathetically, reserved all of the sudden. you frown, stealing another quick kiss. you stumble to your feet fixing your underwear and your skirt, and grab your bag from the small sofa.

“we need to be more careful.” his words make your blood run cold.

“more careful?”

you sneak in and out of hotel rooms under the cover of night, you have his name disguised in your phone, you never speak to him in public.

“this was risky.” oscar shrugs. he looks antsy, his entire demeanour changing in a matter of minutes, the ecstasy of watching you writhe all for him worn off.

“this- i- you’re the one who dragged me in here, piastri.” you accuse. ‘piastri’ is reserved for when you’re pissed off, a cagey step back from the affection ‘osc’ that you usually called him. “whatever, i’ve got to go.”

“i’ll see you later?” he poses it as a question, uncertain that you’ll show. he has never been uncertain before, not with you, not with a lot of things. bile rises in your throat, and you scoff.

you can’t reply. the door slams behind you.

-

“where’ve you been?” lando ruffles your hair, a single eyebrow raised suspiciously.

“got bored with watching you look at data so i went for a walk.” you reply nonchalantly, pushing his hand away.

he hums in response, nodding slowly. it’s like he doesn’t quite believe you but he quickly moves on.

“you coming out with us after the race tomorrow?” lando asks.

“depends on who ‘us’ is.” you reply curtly. you don’t wanna look at oscar’s stupid, handsome face for a second longer than you have to. a familiar sadness sinks into your bones.

“couple of the drivers, alex, carlos, oh and oscar might even be swayed.” you grit your teeth, suddenly frustrated. “anyway, since when do you have beef with drivers? little miss sunshine fallen out with someone?” lando sounds confused, accusatory.

you stay silent, walking into the back of the garage, praying someone will come and steal your brother away.

“hey, you gonna tell me what the problem i-?”

“lando, we need you to look at this.” your brother gets cut off by a frantic engineer, your prayers answered, and is quickly lost to the chaos of the garage.

a pair of warm eyes burn into the side of your head. you turn to see oscar watching you, his eyebrows furrowed as if he’s studying you. he’s fidgeting, playing with his fingers, something strange for the man as cool as a cucumber. you look away as quickly as you can, managing to tear your eyes away from him, a lump forming in your throat which you swallow down.

it’s painful, really. sex and talking, it’s not enough, never has been for even a second. oscar piastri, australian f1 driver, number 81, quickly became your oscar, somewhat against your will.

-

somewhere in hungary, about 8 months ago

“are we really doing this, piastri?” you giggle, throwing your head back as his lips work your neck.

“need you.” he groans into your skin, low and needy. you’ve never heard him sound so disheveled, so desperate, a far cry from his usual, monotonous self.

“want you, osc.” you pant when his lips find your sweet spot, the feeling of him so delicious on your body.

“have me.” he whispers, falling into bed with you in his lap.

you lay there basking in stunned silence afterwards, a layer of sweat coating your knackered body. your shoulder is pressed flush with oscar’s, not an inch of space between you while you both stare at the ceiling, sporting matching lazy grins.

“i can’t believe we did that.” oscar mutters, a layer of disbelief in his voice.

“i think we should do it again.” you tease, except you are deadly serious.

“agreed.” he breathes.

“this stays between us, right?” you whisper, shyly.

“always.”

-

always makes your skin crawl now. you’re sick of having him in the dark, of having to avoid him in public for fear of turning into a lovesick fool. it’s embarrassing, really, unrequited love.

you can barely follow qualifying, staring blankly at the empty space in the garage where oscar’s car resides. you manage to catch the radio message through the headset you have on, the one where oscar’s muttering about a stupid mistake that’s just knocked him out. he’s limping back to the pits, licking his wounds.

you feel a pang in your chest, sympathetic and disappointed for him. you wonder what his mistake was, where his mind was. you’ll wait for the right moment, swallow the ache in your heart and your pride, and you’ll comfort him. he gets led away by frustrated engineers immediately, studying lines of data with furrowed eyebrows. you watch from afar, but then your heart sinks to your feet when four words sound through your headphones.

“lando, are you okay?”

will sounds stressed, repeating the four words that make your world stop spinning on its axis. everyone in the garage is staring at the tv screen, breaths held, stomachs tight.

your brothers car sits in tatters, carbon fibre littering the track. you can see the fluorescents of his helmet burrowed in the cockpit, still. your mouth hangs open, one hand clutching your chest, the other covering your quivering lips. you’re numb.

that feeling returns, the one of eyes burning into your weathered features. your wide eyes flit to the australian boy watching you from across the garage, and you beg silently for him to just come to you, pull you close, tell you that lando is okay and that he loves you back.

and lando is okay, his winded voice reassuring you over the radio.

but you stand there alone.

just like always.

-

somewhere in brazil, about 5 months ago

“what’s your favourite colour?” oscar mumbles lazily, lips bumping your cheekbone.

you’re curled up on his lap watching the sunset from his balcony. he was well behind lando after qualifying, and he’d craved a moment alone with you all day.

the air was thick, humid, the hot orange sun sinking far off in the horizon. you turn to face him, his features illuminated by the hazy glow. the sunlight makes his chocolate eyes sparkle warmly, so pretty.

“brown.” you whisper, scanning his face.

he laughs lowly, his chest rumbling.

“brown?” he questions teasingly.

“yep.” you grin, pecking his lips softly.

“why?”

“go look at those pretty eyes of yours in the mirror.” you retort smoothly, threading your fingers through his shower-damp strands.

“you flirting with me?”

“you bet i am.”

you twist back around, facing the view once more, moulding into his body. he kisses over your shoulder, resting his chin. you stay there content until the sun is gone and the stars twinkle.

-

the air in the room is thick, awkwardly silent.

he stands leaning against the desk, opposite where you sit on your bed. the lights are low in your hotel room, the imprint of your body still fresh against the mattress. you’d been crying when he knocked, eyes rimmed red, skin flushed raw.

“you just stood there.” you croak.

“love, i-“

“don’t call me that. please.”

hurt flashes across his features, but like he knows it’s not fair of him to complain, he buries it immediately.

“i just… will you hear me out?” oscar pleads quietly.

you nod feebly.

“it’s impossible. this, us. i wanted to go to you but i- i couldn’t, i didn’t know how that would look and i didn’t want to jeopardise this.”

“but you did.” you whisper. his face shatters, falling fast.

“no, no, i can be there when you need me-“

“but you weren’t!” you cry, your body physically sinking, your shoulders drooping.

“i can fix this, i will.”

“i think we need to stop this, osc. it’s too painful for me. i’ve tried to move past the hurt but after today…” your voice shakes and you crumble, the first tear falling.

“i’m not trying to hurt you.” he crosses the space between you in two rushed steps, collapsing to his knees before you.

“that’s not good enough.” you bite back. “i’m not going to be some guys dirty little secret. i won’t do it anymore oscar.”

“i was trying to protect you… this.” he gestures between you desperately

“i know, oscar. i know! but i never asked you to do that. i can’t love you in a hotel room for the rest of my life.” the words slip from your tongue, abrasive and messy, before your brain can catch up.

you grimace, biting your tongue, but oscar’s reaction couldn’t be further from your own. his watery eyes widen, pink lips pulling into a boyish grin.

“i don’t want to love you in a hotel room for the rest of my life either.” oscar whispers, tentatively taking your hands. you stare down at your slowly intertwining fingers, a familiar warmth oozing through your body. “i wanna love you everywhere.”

“show me.” you murmur through shaky breath.

“i will.” he leans in, leaning in to kiss your shoulder. “for as long as you let me, i will.”

“just come here.” your fingers find the hairs at the nape of his neck, pulling him into a kiss, one born of frustration, and longing, and a year of late night talking about everything except how much you love each other.

oscar pushes you back onto the bed, crawling over you, starving. you pull him flush against you, leaving no room between your bodies. you crave the feel of his entire weight pressing you into the mattress and as he does, you feel at home. when you pull apart, catching your breaths, he says it properly, for the first time, and the world gets lighter.

“i love you.” oscar cups your jaw, those chocolate eyes boring into yours, the intensity of it knocking you for six. “always.” he adds.

the meaning of the word changes. always doesn’t mean a shameful, taboo secret anymore. life is breathed into the six lettered word; always means you and him, together, finally out of the shadows.

“i love you, osc.” you whisper.

he’s smiling when he kisses you again, unbuttoning your blouse like he’ll die if he doesn’t get the offending item off of your frame. you retaliate by shoving his t-shirt up his back, tugging greedily at it to strip him bare. the material comes off easily and as he sits up to throw it away, you shrug off your blouse and it meets his shirt on the floor. his hands smooth over your curves, brushing the pudge of your belly as he finds the zip of your skirt, ruining the fasten in his state of haste. you barely notice the way he’s ruined the item of clothing, urgently unbuttoning his jeans. your underwear is gone too, nothing separating you but your bra, restless hands on heated skin.

“we need to be quiet.” you breathe. “lando’s next door.” oscar giggles, tinged pink.

“get on top, love.” he drawls, flipping onto his back and taking you with him.

he sits up with you in his lap, nothing anchoring either of you in the middle of the bed. the imprint of your devastated form is gone, replaced by the shape of him. you can feel the head of his cock nudging through your folds, slicking him up so that he can slide nice and deep. he trails his fingers between your legs, thumbing at your clit in deft circles, just the way he knows you like it. you’re mewling in his lap, grinding down on the pad of his thumb; it’s so good but it’s not enough.

“please, osc.” you pant, urging him to let you sink down on his cock. you can see how red it is, feel the way it throbs for you, and the need to be full of him is almost paralysing.

“come on, pretty girl. fill yourself up.” oscar mutters against the shell of your ear.

he kisses down your throat as you slide down on him, dropping your hips firm against his.

“fuck.” you cry, your forehead falling against his shoulder.

“you okay, sweetheart? feel so good for me.” oscar coos, his fingertips digging hard into your hips.

“so good, baby.” your head rolls back, feeling him hit that spot tucked away within your walls.

your breaths mingle, your breasts flush against his chest, and as if he realises that he never stripped you of your pesky bra, he grunts, unclasping the black lace and flinging it somewhere far away. he gently mumbles an awestruck “fuck”, as if he hasn’t seen your tits a million and one times before, and latches onto your nipple. his tongue works in slow circles, matching the pace of your hips working languidly on his cock, and you keen further into his body.

“prettiest girl for me.” oscar grits out, his eyes squeezing shut when you clamp down on him, hard.

you’re both trying so hard to be quiet, overwhelmed by touch and taste, love. you’re growing tired, hurtling towards a desperate release, and oscar can sense it, the feel of your quivering thighs tightening around his hips spurring him on. he grinds up into you, maintaining your pace, but he’s fucking you harder now, the anticipation of your release sending shivers down his spine.

“you gonna cum for me?” oscar grunts, holding your hips down against him. you can’t move, his hold too tight and your body too tired, all you can do is wait for your orgasm to hit like a ton of bricks. you nod frantically.

“yes, oscar, please baby.” you beg for it, and like the true gentleman he is, the calloused pad of his pointer finger finds its home on your clit, sending you into an upwards spiral.

it’s as if you’re levitating when you let go, in a dreamlike state, your teeth sinking hard into his pale shoulder to muffle a surefire whine of his name. he’s rutting into you, prolonging the bliss.

“cum inside of me.” you urge, voice barely above a whisper. well, you’ve certainly never done this before.

oscar’s eyes roll into the back of his head, tears pricking his lash line. a guttural gasp of your name spills from his lips when he lets go, painting your insides warm and white. you stare at the tiny indents your teeth had left on his thick shoulder, his breath hitting the crook of your neck warm and wet as he comes down.

“‘m yours, and i’m here. i’m always gonna be here, i promise.” oscar speaks so quietly that you wonder if you’ve imagined it.

-

“when i made that mistake today, i was thinking about you.”

you’ve been laying there in silence for a while now, tucked under his arm when he speaks. you turn to look at him, perplexed.

“what?”

“i felt so awful about what i said after we, you know. you looked so upset with me, and i don’t blame you.” oscar sighs.

“i just don’t want to feel like a shameful secret, osc.” you tell him quietly, the words heavy on your tongue.

“you won’t, not anymore. ‘m so sorry, sweetheart.” he lulls, kissing over your hairline.

“how do we make this work? and how are we ever gonna explain this to-“

“lando.” oscar cuts you off, shifting uncomfortable. “he’s going to murder me and my entire bloodline.” he chuckles nervously.

“he won’t murder you. he might put you in a gravel trap, though.” you roll onto your side, smiling teasingly up at him and he rolls his eyes.

“i’ll take the heat. you’re worth it.”

-

“promise me.” you pant, his hips grinding into you. you’re curled into his chest, still spooning and barely awake. he’d woken up needy, and you were even needier, the faint glow of early morning sunshine washing over you through a crack in the beige curtains.

“anything.” oscar stutters, his breath warm against the back of your neck. his nose bumps your skin, teeth scraping the shell of your ear.

you stop meeting his thrusts. he whines low, wordlessly pleading for you to resume. he ruts his hips against your ass, chasing friction.

“tell me it’s all gonna be different now.”

“i already told you, i-“ oscar grunts.

“promise me.” you purposely clamp down on him, a hiss sounding from between his gritted teeth.

“promise, i promise, i love you.”

you giggle, rocking your hips again, fucking yourself onto him once more.

“i know.”

“you gonna let me off the hook?” oscar pants in your ear, tugging on your earlobe with his teeth.

“still gotta prove yourself, piastri.” you moan.

he feels deeper like this and he knows it, revelling in the way he’s filled you up so perfectly. he rolls into you slowly, sliding against each and every spot that makes you squirm. you drop your guard, going limp in his arms to let him finish you off.

“you nearly there, sweetheart? you gonna cum for me, love?” his accents thickens in the mornings, husky and intoxicating. you fall apart, then, and he stays buried inside of you, the only sounds in the room your matching heavy breathing.

“i need you to get dressed.” oscar kisses your cheek.

“kicking me out already?” you feign offence, looking at him over your shoulder.

his fingers come to cup your chin, his forehead resting against yours.

“there’s something we gotta do.”

-

you’re wearing your skirt from the day before, the waistband rolled over to make up for the oscar-destroyed zipper. his hoodie that you’ve stolen almost completely covers the short skirt, and your messy hair and poorly removed makeup don’t do much to convince anyone that you’d actually slept in your own room last night.

still rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you don’t really comprehend where oscar is leading you, but when the elevator dings, signalling that you’ve reached the restaurant floor, you’re suddenly painfully awake. time seems to move in slow motion, your tummy twisting as you realise what’s about to happen.

ahead of you, tucked into the corner of the restaurant is your brother, jon, and ashley. lando is already draped in team kit, the papaya of his hoodie blaring obnoxiously for once, a warning sign.

“oscar, what-“

“i’m doing this.” he affirms, speeding up his stride.

oh my god oh my god oh my fucking god.

your heart speeds up, dropping to the pit in your belly when lando notices you, eyebrows furrowed, jaw clenched, eyes taking in the bewildering sight before him. his baby sister, disheveled and wide-eyed, and his teammate holding her hand, on a mission.

“what the fuck am i looking at?” lando doesn’t sound angry, per say, more perplexed than anything. there is an edge to his voice that you don’t particularly like, but he hasn’t started swinging yet, you suppose.

“i’m in love with your sister. like, for real. you deserve to know that.” oscar says confidently, somewhat monotonously.

lando opens his mouth, closes it. opens it again, closes it. he repeats the process a few more times, going through the motions of an emotional rollercoaster.

but then, he sighs deeply, a grin of disbelief stretching across his face. jon bangs on the table excitedly, and ash is shaking his head.

“you owe us so much money.” jon laughs, his head tipping back.

“pay up, boss.” ash sticks his hand out expectantly, smirking across the table.

“what… what?” you exclaim, narrowing your eyes in confusion.

“i didn’t wanna believe them.” lando shrugs.

“don’t blame you.” oscar chimes in, and you stare between the two mclaren drivers in bewilderment.

“are you okay with this?” you question, staring your brother in the eyes, still a bit disoriented by the entire situation. his face softens, a genuine smile lingering small on his lips.

“if you’re happy, i’ll make my peace with it.” lando’s eyes flit between you and oscar.

all of the sudden, a look of horror crosses his face, and his voice turns stern.

“but,” he inhales shakily. “if i ever, ever, hear again what i think i heard last night,” he glares at oscar, pointing one firm finger at the australian, who stands up a bit straighter. “you’re dead, piastri.”

jon and ash bite back giggles at the empty threat, and you take it upon yourself to put an end to the situation before it gets any more awkward.

“well, on that note!” you sing-song, dragging oscar away.

“and make sure you’re using protection!” lando calls out, panic stricken, big brother mode activated.

“oh my god.” you blush dark pink, speeding up, the elevator in your sights.

“that went well.” oscar quips sarcastically. he looks rather happy with himself.

you kiss him as soon as the metal doors shut.

-

you do go out after the race, but for once it’s not to drink away the memories of a weekend in oscar’s arms. this time, it’s to celebrate the fact that you can love him out loud, and he’ll do the same right back.

you’re dancing in his arms, bright lights in shades of blues and purples streaming over your bodies. oscar holds you close, keeps you wrapped in his arms, despite the shock on the faces of others at the sight of lando norris’s baby sister publicly besotted with his teammate.

when oscar kisses you deep, smiling against your lips that taste like cherry liquor, you know that this last year of your life wasn’t in vain.

you and oscar, you’re built to last.

-

“how did you not see it, mate?” charles beams, crinkles by his eyes from the wide smile he’s sporting. he’s clearly drunk, but lando is too.

it appears he’s clocked the brits sister and her australian suitor on the dance floor.

the monagasque has rocked up to the bar with alex and pierre in tow, the three of them slapping lando on the back as they arrive.

“i guess there were signs.” lando shrugs, dragging his finger over the rim of the crystal glass.

“signs? mate it was obvious.” pierre chuckles, pushing lando’s shoulder.

“wait, you all knew?” lando splutters.

yeah. duh. come on, man.

“why didn’t you tell me?”

“it’s funnier.” charles… winks? it’s hard to tell with him.

lando finds you in the crowd, grinning up at oscar like he hung the stars in the sky. the younger mclaren driver returns your look, and it sparks warmth in lando’s chest.

you’re gonna be okay.

-

hehe

-

taglist

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[0o-junebug-o0]

Put to Use

summary: Spencer has been bothering you all day while you try to get work done, you decide to put his mouth to better use.

genre: fluff and smut

cw: 18+ mdni! sub!spencer, softdom!reader, dirty talking, praise, use of good boy, begging, oral sex (r receiving (kinda)), strap-ons, strap-on sucking, hair pulling, gn!reader (reader has a vagina but nothing else is specified (the only word used to describe reader's genitalia is clit)), masturbation, no use of y/n, whiny/bratty spencer, autistic!spencer (because every spencer is autistic!spencer), aftercare

wordcount: 2.1k

Spencer has been whining all day. He’s been pacing around the apartment, practically begging you to put aside your work and complaining about how bored and lonely he is. Both of which you know for a fact is not true. If Spencer was bored he would grab one of the many books littering your shared apartment and read, and if he was actually lonely he would have a proper conversation about it rather than whining. He’s not bored or lonely, he’s just horny.

If you weren’t so busy you’d help him out, but you have a deadline coming up and you’ve been stuck on this part of your code for over two hours and it’s starting to piss you off.

Spencer sighs loudly as he passes by your desk. You briefly close your eyes and take a deep breath to tune him out and continue working. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Spencer watching you and when you don’t push everything aside to attend to him he whines your name. 

“Spencer,” you reply in a matching whine. He pouts.

“I’m bored.”

“Then read,” you say, still not taking your eyes off of your computer. 

“But I don’t want to read,” he whines. 

“Since when do you not want to read?”

“I just don’t,” he grumbles.

He flops onto the couch with a huff, his legs draped over the side. If you weren’t so worried about spurring him on, you’d laugh. 

A few minutes pass before he calls your name again.

You roll your eyes, starting to get a bit annoyed. “What, Spencer?”

“I’m still bored.”

Jesus Christ. You’ve never seen him like this. You’ve seen him desperate for you before but he’s never been such a brat about it. “Spencer, you know I have to work.”

“I know, but I’m lonely,” he whines.

“I’m right here.”

“That’s too far,” he groans.

“I’m really busy, Spencer. You’re just going to have to be patient.”

He mumbles something to himself but goes quiet and occupies himself by swinging his legs. It would be adorable if he wasn’t being such a pain in the ass.

You rub your eyes and lean closer to your computer as if that will tell you how to fix the error that just appeared in your code. You change the dimensions of an array and try running it again, when the code still fails, frustration builds in your chest and you have to fight the urge to slam your computer shut.

You mentally run through all of your most common mistakes and their solutions but not one of them gets rid of the error. You’re about to plot the data to see if there’s an issue in the reading of the file when Spencer calls your name again.

You close your laptop with a snap and Spencer’s head pokes over the back of the couch. You stand, pushing your chair away from your desk hard enough that it almost topples over. 

You glare at him. “Up,” you snap.

Spencer immediately scrambles off the couch and onto his feet, staring at you with wide, desperate eyes. 

“Go to the bedroom. I want you naked and kneeling on the floor by the time I arrive. And no touching yourself.” Spencer’s eyes get impossibly wider and he seems almost frozen with surprise. “Now, Spencer.”

He nods frantically and races down the hallway and into the bedroom. You love how desperate he is to obey you. Watching him practically trip over himself to do as you say makes arousal pool in your gut. You walk around to the front of the couch and sit where Spencer had been lying mere moments ago. You stare at your watch and press your hands between your legs to relieve some of the pressure.

Spencer has no doubt done what you said by now but you want to make him wait. He needs to learn some patience. Eventually, your own arousal becomes too much to bear and you follow him into the bedroom.

Ever the good listener, Spencer is kneeling on the floor completely naked. His hands are resting just above his knees and he’s squeezing his legs hard enough that the skin around his hands is white. His cock is hard and resting on his thighs and you can tell by how much it’s leaking that he hasn’t touched himself. The sight of him drives you crazy. 

He gasps your name when he sees you, but you walk toward the dresser at the other end of the room without acknowledging him. He whines pathetically and as much as you want to kiss him, you don’t turn around. You open the top drawer and move aside your underwear and socks to grab the strap-on and harness you’d purchased recently. You turn around, closing the drawer with your elbow, and Spencer’s eyes widen when he sees what you’re holding.

“Oh my God,” he gasps, his voice breaking slightly with desperation.

You toss the items onto the bed and twirl your finger. Immediately, Spencer shuffles around until he’s facing you, not leaving his knees once. 

You saunter forward, stopping only inches away from him. He lifts his hands and reaches out to touch you, his mouth hanging open and his chest rising and falling rapidly with each panted breath, but he lowers his hands when you give him a pointed look. The pure adoration and need in his eyes has you soaking through your underwear and it takes a tremendous amount of self-control not to kiss him. 

You grab the hem of your shirt and slowly pull it over your head. You can feel Spencer’s unwavering eye contact the entire time. You toss the shirt to the side and unbuckle your belt before pushing your pants and underwear down your legs at a snail's pace, never once taking your eyes off of Spencer’s face.

You step out of your pants and underwear and kick them aside as you reach around behind you to grab the dildo and harness off the bed. Spencer watches your hands intently as you slide the dildo through the hole in the front of the harness. “Please,” he gasps. “Oh my God, please, I need it! Please!”

You shoot him a glare and his mouth snaps shut.

“You want to use your mouth so bad?” you ask with a snarl, stepping into the harness and pulling it up to your hips. “Talking and talking nonstop? Distracting me even though you know I have to work? I’ll put your mouth to use.” You tighten the straps until the harness fits snugly around your hips and waist. “Maybe this will shut you up.”

You grab Spencer’s hair and pull him forward until his face is right in front of your strap. He falls slightly and scrambles until he’s sitting between your legs, looking up at you with an open mouth and wide eyes.

“Suck,” you command. The second the word leaves your mouth, Spencer wraps his lips around your strap with a pathetic moan, his eyes fluttering shut. He looks gorgeous like this and you can feel your arousal sticking to your thighs. 

Spencer bobs his head and a gasp forces its way from your throat as the base of the dildo presses against your clit. Spurred on by the sound of your pleasure, Spencer presses his face closer to you and wraps one of his hands around the base of the strap, stroking it in time to the movement of his head.

Each stroke sends pleasure shooting up your spine and you tangle your hands in his hair to steady yourself. “Such a good boy,” you groan. “Taking my cock so well.”

Spencer moans desperately and pulls his head away for a moment, not stopping the movement of his hands. He looks up at you with wet eyes. “You’re cock,” he rasps. “Love your cock. Tastes so good.” 

His voice already sounds ruined and the thought makes you moan as you push his head back down. He rewraps his lips around your cock and takes you down as far as he can. The dildo isn’t big and the tip of his nose presses lightly against your stomach. You can feel where the silicone hits the back of his throat and you moan loudly, your head falling back with pleasure. He wraps his hands around your thighs and holds you in place, slowly and gently bobbing his head. Even the slightest of movements send waves of pleasure through your body as the base of the dildo rubs against you and you have to fight the urge to buck your hips.

As if he could read your mind, Spencer pulls back off your cock and replaces his mouth with his hand, stroking rapidly. You gasp as each stroke presses the dildo against your clit with the perfect amount of pressure. You look down at him and the sight is almost enough to make you cum. His entire body is flushed red and his chest heaves with each desperate breath. His cock is red and hard and he’s leaked all over his lap, the hand not stroking you is clenched into a fist at his side so he doesn’t touch himself without permission. He looks divine.

Spencer stares up at you with an expression of pure need. “F-fuck my face,” he gasps, his voice weak and scratchy. “Please.”

His words send sparks of pleasure through you and combined with the movement of his hand you can feel your orgasm starting to pool in your belly. “Holy shit,” you gasp, nodding your head frantically, unsure of how else to respond. The moment he sees you nod he replaces his hand with his mouth, groaning loudly.

Your hips buck forward and the sensation makes you cry out with pleasure. Heat starts to climb up your back and you thrust sloppily into his mouth as you chase your orgasm. “Such a good boy,” you gasp. “Taking me so well. Touch yourself, baby, touch yourself while I fuck your pretty face.”

A loud moan rips from Spencer’s chest and even though you can’t see it, you know he has his hand between his legs and is desperately fucking his fist. 

“That’s it, baby,” you pant. “I’m so close.”

Spencer whimpers around your cock and you can see his hips moving desperately beneath you as he touches himself. His whole body tenses as he cums and the sight of his orgasm brings you to yours. You cum hard with a cry of his name. Your legs shake as pleasure shoots through your body and you struggle to stay on your feet. Your hips still and you untangle your hands from Spencer’s hair as he pulls back. 

He smiles a big dopey smile up at you and you sink to your knees to pull him in for a kiss. You rub your thumb over his cheek and he sighs into your mouth as he kisses you back. You pull away and he chases after you weakly. You chuckle and press a brief kiss to the tip of his nose. “Did so good, baby. So proud of you,” you whisper.

Spencer smiles and buries his head in the crook of your neck.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, alright, sweetheart?”

He nods and you guide him to his feet and into the ensuite bathroom. You undo and step out of the harness and set it and the strap on the edge of the sink to clean later. You turn on the bath and wipe the cum off his legs with a wet washcloth as you sit on the edge of the tub and wait for the water to get warm. Spencer stays pressed close to your side the entire time but you don’t mind. You love how soft and cuddly he gets after sex, especially when you’ve been a little rougher with him.

You keep one arm wrapped around him, holding him against your body, and feel the temperature of the water with the other. Satisfied, you plug the drain and let the bath start to fill. 

“Alright, sweetheart, the water’s nice and warm. Why don’t you climb in?” Spencer presses his face back into your neck. You feel a pang of worry at his lack of communication. “What’s wrong baby?” you ask gently. “Are you alright? Does anything hurt?”

Spencer shakes his head and wraps his arms tighter around you. You return his hug, rubbing your hand up and down his back, feeling the ridges of his spine under your fingertips. “Do you just want to be near me?” you ask. Spencer nods and your worry dissipates. You smile and press a kiss to the top of his head. “Okay, baby. I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere. I’ll join you in the bath, alright?”

Spencer nods and lets you guide him into the tub. You slip in right behind him and turn off the water. You press kisses to his back and shoulders as you bathe him, whispering praises until you’re both clean.

_____

Taglist!: fill out this form if you want to be tagged when I post fics

@daryls-crossbow16

[wintfleur]

ꔫ did so good baby

°. — pairings ( lando norris x fem! reader )

°. — summary ( you and your boyfriend spend the night together celebrating the Las Vegas gp )

°. — details ( g; smut. w; smut, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!!!!) dirty talk, sub lando, riding, kinda soft dom reader?, I’m not sure what else to add. wc; 3k )

˖ ་ 💭 roro’s notes ( sooo i decided to write another smut, and ofc I had to do sub lando!!. I’m not too sure of this one, so please let me know what you think! Also think of this as a late birthday post for lando! I can’t believe I forgot to post something on his b-day! I also knew I had to get something out for this gp since Vegas is my home town! HE DESERVED BETTER THIS RACE BUT STILL SO PROUD OF HIM But anyways I hope you guys enjoy this! Please don’t be a silent reader! )

“Look at you baby” you coo as your lips leave a wet trail up his bare stomach and chest. Lando tilts his head back, his eyes shut as heavy breaths pass through his lips. His chest moving simultaneously with his heavy breathing as he tried to calm down from the orgasm you just gave him. A sense of pride warms your chest at the whimper that escapes your boyfriend's pretty lips when you teasingly twirl your tongue around his nipple. “Always so responsive” 

“Darling please” Lando begged, his tone so whiny that it made you smirk. You place your hands on his bare thighs feeling him twitch under you from your touch, you use his thighs to help you sit up on your knees between his spread legs. You look down at your boyfriend who was leaning back on his hands, his eyes still closed. 

You bring one of your hands up to cup his chin with your pointer and thumb, your grip isn't rough, but it also wasn't gentle. “What is it baby, come on look at me.” 

“Please, i need more” Lando pleads after he flutters his eyes open to look up at you. The sight of you nearly took his breath away, you were so enchanting and the way you looked down at him made him even more desperate for more of your touch, for your lips. His eyes wander down your body and he feels his mouth water at the sight of you in his favorite-colored lace lingerie.

“So needy, was what I have given you already not enough?” you dramatically pout, your tone condescending and teasing. Your hand that was gripping his chin moves to his shoulder while your other hand that was resting on his thigh slowly moves up his chest to rest on his other shoulder, using his shoulders as leverage to straddle his lap. A small hiss leaving your boyfriend's lips at the feeling of his throbbing tip brushing against your lace panties when you lean down to whisper in his ear tauntingly to ask again “it wasn't good enough?” 

“No no it was so good…please” Lando stutters over his words, finding it hard to form words at the feeling of you placing soft kisses on his shoulder and collarbone. You so desperately wanted to give him what he wanted, the wet spot on your panties were almost dripping with your desire…but you couldn't give in so quickly.

“Tell me what you want baby” You whispered seductively between the kisses you littered across his neck, his skin burning under the soft but relentless touch of your lips. Lando nearly whimpers at your words, squeezing the sheets in his hands to stop himself from grabbing your hips, his mind running with thoughts of what he wanted. 

“I wanna feel you wrapped around me” Lando whined, cutting himself off with a gasp at the feeling of you sucking under his jaw, hissing when you teasingly blow onto it after. Lando knows that he going to have to beg if you were really going to give him what he wanted “Please, please I've been so good.” 

“Hmm you have” You hummed as you moved your face from his neck to get a look at your boyfriend's pretty face, his eyes were already on you. You can see the pleading look in his eyes, your poor boy was so desperate. You move some of his curls from his forehead and give him a small smile, you couldn't say no to him; not when he looked at you like that. “I’ll give you what you want baby.”  

A breath of relief leaves Lando's lips and you let out a small giggle on the look that appears on his face. You lean back on his thighs, and you keep your eyes on his as you move your hand behind your back, unclipping your bra in one quick movement and dropping it somewhere on the hotel bed. A small smirk appears on your lips at the sight of your boyfriend's eyes immediately dropping to your naked chest, he always did have a weakness for your boobs. Lando licks his lips and has to stop himself from cupping your boobs into his hands. 

You lean back down, a big smile on your lips at the way he looks up at you with his pretty eyes, you would never get over the way he looked at you, you loved him so much. You place your hand on his cheek before closing your eyes and pulling him into a kiss, Lando moaning as your tongues meet. You kissed him until you felt him pull away to catch his breath, he was quick to lean forward to continue the kiss, but you pulled away and shook your head no. You smirked when he whined at your rejection. You whisper sweetly, but an underlying of sternness in your tone “Lay back.” 

Your boyfriend was quick to listen to you, laying back and resting his head on the soft pillow. He was pretty sure he would do anything you said just so he could feel you wrapped around him; he couldn't handle any more of your teasing tonight. It all started when you went out with a few other drivers and their girlfriends to celebrate the race. You had dressed up in his favorite dress and the way you danced against him in the club and the way you rested your hand on his thigh when you sat, got him all worked up. That was 2 hours ago. 

You reached down between the two of you and took him into your hands, a soft moan leaving his lips immediately, at your touch. You could feel him throbbing in your hands, and for a second you felt a little bad for teasing him for so long, but that quickly disappeared as you slowly started to stroke him. The spit and left over cum from the head you gave him, made it easy to move your hand up and down. Lando turns his head to the side, his eyes shutting as moans pass through his parted lips. 

You rub your thumb over his tip, watching his reaction as his breath hitches and a sweet whine leave his lips along with a desperate ‘please’. You decide that that's enough teasing, so you move your hand from his dick and move it between your thighs. A small gasp escaping your lips at the feeling of your fingers brushing against your clit as you move your panties to the side, God you were sopping.  

You hold your panties to the side while your other hand grips onto the base of his dick, teasingly rubbing his tip up and down against your slit, coating his cock in your slick. A whine leaving your boyfriend's lips at the feeling. Once you were content with how wet his cock was, you lined his tip up with your entrance. You look down at your boyfriend and see that he's already looking up at you, and before you can open your mouth to ask; he’s nodding his head yes and whispering “please.” 

You guide his cock into you and slowly sink down, the thick head of his cock stretching your velvety walls, your eyes fluttering close at the stretch. Lando’s thighs clench and a groan leaves his lips at how prettily your lips stretch around his cock. Sweet and loud moans escape your lips as your cunt struggles to take him in, your walls so tight around his thick cock that you can feel every inch. Both of you moaning in unison at the feeling of him being buried to the hilt in your sweet, warm pussy. 

You open your eyes and rest your hands on his abdomen, feeling his chest rise and fall with his heavy breaths, still trying to get used to how tight you feel around him. You smile and lean down, one of your hands coming up to cup his cheek. Lando’s eyes flutter open at the feeling of your naked tits against his chest and before he could let out a moan at the feeling of your fluttering around his dick, you lock his lips in a slow and sensual kiss. 

“You feel so good Lan” you whisper against his lips after you pull away from the kiss. You watch through your eyelashes as a shy smile appears on your boyfriend's lips. You caress his cheek with your thumb for a few seconds before you sit up, adjusting your knees at his side. You place both your hands back on his chest, watching his face as you slowly start to move up and down. 

“God Lando” you whined in pleasure as you continued your motions. Bouncing up and down at a slow pace, the stretch was big but felt so good. Lando’s moans become louder as your rhythm starts to pick up, the feeling of your warm wet walls squeezing him was too much, he didn't know how long he would last. 

“You can touch my baby, it's okay” You coo seductively, you could feel the way he was throbbing in you and the way he was squeezing the sheets, whimpers and pretty moans leaving his parted lips. As soon as those words left your mouth, he quickly stopped squeezing the linen and eagerly moved his hands to your chest, softly groping your tits. You would have teased him because of his eagerness but instead a loud moan came out instead, your nipples were always so sensitive and Lando loved using that to his advantage. 

Lando smiled cheekily at the sound, but you were quick to shut down his own teasing when you purposely clenched around him. Lando drops his hands from your nipples and down to squeeze onto your waist, closing his eyes as a loud groan leaves his lips. You rock your hips faster against his, your nails digging into the skin of his chest as you tilt your head back in pleasure. 

“Darling, I don't know how much longer I’ll last” Lando moans out, his thighs were constantly clenching, he was so close. The way your pussy gripped him and the way he could feel your desire make a mess on his thighs and drip down his balls were too much. Don't get him started on the hypnotic sight of your tits bouncing in unison with your fast pace. And he knew you so well that he could tell you were close too, your movements became more frantic and the way you fluttered around him proved him right. 

“Me to baby — feels so good” you whimpered, you felt that tight rope in your stomach and you knew your peak was close. It was almost overwhelming how good it felt, his pelvic bone was hitting your clit every time you came down, and his pretty moans were too much for you. Lando looks away from your chest and up to your face, and he swore that he could have cummed just at the sight of you. Your mouth was agape, your face twisted in pleasure, your skin was glistening in sweat. 

Lando lifts his legs, his feet planted on the bed and his grip on your hips tighten. Both of you are moaning in unison at the new position. You keep one of your hands on his chest while the other moves behind you to squeeze his knee in pleasure, the new position causing him to go inside you deeper. Lando moves one of his hands from your hips and moves it to his chest, softly squeezing your hand. He needed to hold your hand; he was overwhelmed with the pleasure he was feeling. 

Your eyes flutter open and your movements still, you look down at your boyfriend and see the blissed outlook on his face. He was looking up at you with hooded eyes and his mouth parted as heavy breaths passed through his lips. You could see it in his eyes and the way his hands were clinging to you, he was so close. You smirk and lean down so your chests were almost touching, moving your hand that was now interlocked with his, by the side of his head. 

“What? gonna cum already?” you whispered tauntingly in his ear, tangling your hand that was on his chest, in his hair that was at his nape. You continued to rock your hips against his, your ass slapping against his thighs, creating a lewd sound. A loud and embarrassing whine escaped his red and puffy lips, the coil in his stomach only tightening and so did his grip on your hand and hip. You knew the more you talked to him like that, the faster he would come undone. 

“Gonna fill me up?  — Hmm? Make a mess?” You continued to taunt him, your movements becoming more frantic, chasing his and your release. Lando was to fucked out to properly respond, the only sounds leaving his mouth was moans and a pitiful ‘yes’. You move your hand from his nape and softly pat his bottom lip with your pointer and middle finger. Lando knows what it means, and he eagerly opens his mouth for you. You smile big and bite on your bottom lip, sliding your two fingers into his mouth, his mouth closing around your fingers. 

“So good for me” you coo between your own moans, your eyes not leaving your boyfriend's pretty face. Lando twirled his tongue around your fingers to get them wet, his eyes closed as he couldn't help but moan around them. You pull your wet fingers out of Lando's mouth, smirking at the small whine that leaves his now parted lips. You move your hand between the two of you, your wet fingers making contact with your even wetter clit. Your eyes rolling to the back of your head as you start rubbing it. 

“I’m so close — please can i cum?” Lando begged as he let out a choked-out moan, tilting his head back in pleasure, blinking away the tears that stored in his waterline. You can feel him pant against your mouth, the tip of his nose bumping into yours. The pleasure he was feeling was something he's never felt before, the coil in his stomach becoming too much. Your eyes went down to his and the way he looked, nearly brought you over the edge. 

“Please Lan, i wanna feel you” You almost begged, you were so close. The way your thighs clenched and ached at the fast rhythm you had as you rocked against his cock, and your fingers were sopping and ached at how fast you moved them against your clit; but you cherish the ache. You move to sit up, but a surprised moan leaves your lips as he wraps his arms around your waist, holding you down to his chest, an even louder moan leaves your lips at the feeling of him thrusting up into you. 

“Fuuuck” You whine loudly, your eyes squeezing shut and your fingers moving from your clit to squeeze onto the white linen. The sound of skin slapping was so lewd and echoed across the lavish hotel room, you were thankful that the bed didn't start hitting against the wall from Lando's movements. The angle wrenches a sling of moans leaving yours and his lips, his pace becoming delirious and his grip on you tightens as he cried out “fuck, ‘m gonna cum” 

“Oh my god Lan!” you cried out in pleasure as Lando held you down on his cock. The feeling of his thick head of his cock hitting deep against the sensitive spot of your slick cunt and the feeling of warmth as he spilled himself deep inside you with a loud cry of your name, brings you to your own peak. The tight rope rips and you feel yourself fall into your desire, feeling your walls throb around his cock as you come undone. A pleasure that left you lightheaded. 

It was silent for a long while as you simply held each other, finding comfort in each other's soft touch and the feeling of their beating heartbeat against one another's chest. You moved your hand away from squeezing the linen, a small sting in your fingers from how hard you squeezed, and you moved it up to his cheek. You tilted your head up towards him and watched as his eyes fluttered open at your touch, a tired smile forming on your lips at the beautiful sight of his eyes. You caress his cheek softly with your thumb before whispering “You did so good baby.” 

“Tonight, and at the race, I'm so proud” You continue to whisper, you were insanely proud of your boyfriend. The love and trust that you had for each other made tonight even more special for the two of you. Lando felt a little emotional at your words, no matter what he always knew that you were by his side. 

“I love you” you finally heard his voice; it was quiet and scratchy from all the loud moans that he let out tonight. Your smile gets bigger, and you lean your face closer to his, placing a gentle and slow kiss on his lips. Lando eagerly kissed you back, his hands slowly moving up and down your sides. You pull away to whisper against his lips “I love you more.” 

“Room service?” Lando asked his tone hopeful as he broke the few moments of silence the two of you had shared as you stared into each other's eyes. The two of you didn't have to say anything else, your eyes told each other everything already. You laugh loudly at his words, of course he was thinking about food. Lando smiles big at the sound of your laugh, bringing one of his hands up to softly play with your hair. 

You place a soft kiss on the corner of his lips before you fully sit up, your eyes going down where the two of you meet. You raise your hips and watch as his now soft cock slips out of you, a groan leaving both of your lips at the feeling. A sigh escaping your lips at the feeling of your mixed cum dripping down your thighs. You look up at your boyfriend to see his eyes trained down at your messy cunt softly biting his lip. You scoff playfully and nudge him with your knee, his eyes shooting up to yours with a bashful smile, shy that he got caught. 

“Bath and then room service” 

°. — taglist ( @iloveyou3000morgan @ophcelia )

˖ ་ 💭 roro’s notes ( omg I’m kinda in love with sub!lando and I really want to explore more of it! Feel free to send in some asks! )