#it fucks you up even on a distance it fucks you up you’re never the same
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“I’m just saying it’s manipulative.”
“Manipulative? Eddie you can’t be serious.”
“I am, now, where’s the dish? It’s got to be around here somewhere.”
“Maybe in this box, clearly labelled ‘kitchen’?” Dustin snarks, “and I don’t see how you can say behaving in a way that’s been dictated by your very biology is...manipulative. That’s not fair, man.”
Eddie digs in the box, bringing out the baking dish he wants, and then heads back into the kitchen, swerving around clutter and open boxes as he goes, “yeah, I get that a lot of Omega act the way they do because of what they are, alright. I get that, I do. But all this...kind of, 'oh my oh my, can’t the big Alpha come and save me...I just need looking after and...and protecting'. And I get that it works, a lot of Alphas eat that shit right up, I’m just not one of them.” Eddie bangs around in the kitchen fixing Wayne’s famous corned beef hash casserole, “it’s just not for me, you know? I don’t want someone who’s just going to do as they’re told and roll over on everything, I want someone who is equal, not someone who wants looking after all the time. I will not be loosing my head over any Omega, no matter how pretty they are.”
“So you...wouldn’t look after your Omega?” Dustin squints at him.
“Firstly, not happening, not ever, I’m sticking to Beta’s and that is final...but, I mean, yeah, of course I’d look after my partner, but I’d do that for anyone. I don’t want this hormone driven need to...to I don’t know. It’s just not for me Henderson, okay? Now help me with the books.”
Dustin whines, “but there’s like, fifty million of them...and I still don’t agree that it’s manipulative. They’re just...playing to their strengths, or whatever.”
“Right, so an Omega bats their eyelashes and every Alpha in sniffing distance is falling over themselves to do whatever the Omega wants, and that’s not manipulative?”
“Welllll…no, especially since it only works because of the Alphas in the first place, if it’s anyone fault, it’s the Alphas, right?”
“Fucking...just shut up Henderson.”
Eddie’s just put their plates on the table when there’s a knock at the door, “I’m not waiting,” Dustin sits down and starts shoveling, and Eddie mutters curses all the way to the door, he’s absolutely starving-
“Hi, I am so sorry,” it’s an Omega. A ridiculously pretty one. A very, very pregnant one. “I’m from next door,” the very very pretty Omega is on tip toes, trying to look over Eddie’s shoulder. He’s clutching a plate to his chest, “I know you’ve just moved in and, again, I am so so sorry about this, but is there any chance I could try what you’re cooking? Please?”
He smells so good. Even better than a regular Omega; Eddie’s sure it’s because he’s pupped, probably some biological bullshit about protecting pups and whatever. But still, he’s...he’s cute, standing there with his plate, sniffing after Eddie’s cooking.
“I could smell it in the hall. It could just be the tiniest bit, but I just would really like to try it, I’m so sorry for interrupting your dinner but-”
“Hey, it’s okay,” Eddie says, taking the guys plate, “just hang there a second.” Eddie goes and...well, if he fills the plate of what was going to be tomorrows dinner, no one needs to know. Eddie might have opinions on gender, but he’s not a dick. The guy is very pregnant, plus he was being super polite about it. He even brought his own plate.
It’s another human being, pregnant and hungry; Eddie would do the same to help anyone out. This is absolutely nothing to do with the guy being the prettiest Omega Eddie’s ever seen in real life.
Eddie delivers the plate back, “oh my goodness,” oh okay, that’s adorable. Eddie’s pretty sure he’s never heard anyone say ‘oh my goodness’ in real life, like, ever. “Thank you so so much, is there anything I can do? I can contribute to the ingredients or-” and that’s when Eddie figures that not only is the guy very pretty, he’s actually a reasonable human being too, lots of people wouldn’t have even thought about that sort of thing.
“No, we’re good just, ah, let me know what you think.”
“I will, I will,” the guy is saying as he turns to leave, carefully carrying his laden plate. He’s big enough that he’s kind of waddling, and Eddie watches him long enough to see him go into the next apartment along the hall.
Eddie shuts the door, turning back to find Dustin watching him, both eyebrows raised, a very accusatory look on his face, “oh shut the fuck up.”
“Just let me know what you think,” Dustin mimics back, like a little bitch.
#eddie munson#steve harrington#stranger things#steddie#pre getting together#pre steddie#dustin henderson#omega steve harrington#alpha eddie munson#ao3 author#ficlet#ao3 writer#mpreg
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𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 - 𝐋. 𝐇𝐞𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐮𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐭.𝟐
Pairing: heeseung ⚥ reader
Warnings: smut, cheating, stepson, stepmom, dirty talk, taboo relationship, dry humping, unprotected sex, oral, cum eating, cursing, mommy kink-ish, no plot.
Genre: 18+, step relationship, taboo. Not proofread.
WC: 3,534k
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A lie is what you’d be telling if you said you didn’t think about feeling your stepson again the moment your eyes opened in the morning, but you were quick to push those thoughts far back to the recesses of your mind, hoping that they would never come forth again.
Even though the night spent with him was nothing short of mind blowing you had to do your best to forget it cause you couldn’t do that with him again especially after the guilt you felt when your husband came to bed last night.
Guilt.
Now, that was something you and heeseung didn’t have in common. What you did have in common was that you both most certainly enjoyed last night.
Fuck does he remember last night? It was so good that it’d be hard to forget, and what would he have to feel guilty for after fucking every single last one of your precious little holes.
Speaking of, he can’t decide which one he likes more. All of them brought him immense pleasure, so much pleasure that at ten in the morning, he’s as hard as a brick just thinking of you, but he’d just have to feel each of them again before he could really decide.
You’d already sent your husband off for the day with his lunch, and now you were busy cooking breakfast for yourself and, obviously, your stepson.
Who was now standing at the end of the stairs greeting you in nothing but his pajamas, and the large print between his legs was hard to miss. You clenched your thighs at the sight of your pussy already missing him. “Morning, Mommy,” he chuckled tiredly, slithering into the kitchen, and before you can even calm yourself, he’s got his arms loosely wrapped around your waist, his cheek pressed to your shoulder, and his groin nestled right against you. “Hmm,” he moans from the contact on his sensitive leaky tip.
You gasp, the feeling of him shocking you back to your senses. The knife you were using to cut fruit falls on the counter, and you flatten your palms, bracing yourself against the kitchen island.
“What’s wrong?” He mumbles as you go stiff in his hold. “You’re not gonna greet your stepson?” He pushes forward, leaving you no space, and now you’re trapped between the counter and his body just like yesterday, and just like yesterday, you feel the restraint quickly leaving your body.
How could you have any restraint when his dick was so hard against you and so close to where you needed him most.
Last night you told yourself never again would you let your stepson fuck you, but that was last night when he was in his room far away from you. That was when he wasn’t standing behind you shirtless that’s when his dick wasn’t nuzzled right up against your ass.
“H-heeseung, stop,” you tell him feebly, your voice trembling, and you would never willingly admit that you were already leaking for him.
“You really want me to?” He sneaks his hands under your sleepwear, cupping your breasts and squeezing them with his large hands. “Tell me again, and I will” he rolls his hips tracing the crease of your perfect ass with his long dick. “Just want you to be sure, that’s all.”
You do your best to hold in your whimpers. If you were being honest, you really wanted him to slip your sleep shorts off and take you from behind right then and there in the kitchen, but for a split second, you had an ounce of rationality. “S-stop,” you said with a shaky breath. “Y-you should take a shower. Breakfast is almost ready.”
“No,” he whines in protest but quickly obeys. “Fine, I’ll do as you say, Mommy.” You feel the warmth leave your back as he creates enough distance between you two, and for the first time since you saw him today, you feel like you can actually breathe.
“Looks good,” he spanks your bottom, and the sound echoes in the quiet kitchen. He grabs an orange slice and holds it to his mouth, slurping the juices provocatively; the scene looked all too familiar to the way he ate you out last night. You glued your eyes on him while he stared at you, flicking his tongue on the center of the orange and then sucking on just like he did your clit. “Tastes good, too,” he smirks at your dazed expression, walking past you to the trash bin to throw the peel in the garbage, purposefully brushing himself against you on his way upstairs.
Once he left, you stood there for a good minute. You tried to grab your knife to resume making breakfast, but your hands were literally shaking with need, and the guilt you once felt was pushed to the back of your mind as you climbed upstairs in search of your one and only stepson.
You knocked on the door right in the middle of him getting undressed, and him being him, didn’t think twice before answering the door fully nude, his cock still very much hard. He was going to take care of his problem himself, but now you’re standing outside the door, and you definitely look like a better option than his right hand.
He smiled, happy to see you standing there and shamelessly looking at his dick.
Your eyes are glued onto the one thing you need inside you the most. Your brows furrow together at the sight of your thighs shaking and your hole clenching around nothing, dripping with sticky arousal.
“Did you need som-“You step forward into the bathroom and, without a thought, slam the door shut before dropping to your knees in front of him and taking his stiff shaft in your hand, gently pumping it up and down. “Oh shit,” he groans. Your actions caught him totally off guard. He had to brace himself with his right hand against the bathroom sink. “I guess so,” he smirked down at you and placed his hand on top of your head, smoothing over your hair.
You’re too ashamed to respond, so instead, you put your mouth to use elsewhere and lap at his sticky tip, tasting the salty precum that oozed from it.
A taste you had already become addicted to.
You hungrily take more than half of him in your mouth, sucking his cock desperately.
The little sounds you made when his tip hit the back of your throat made his cock twitch, and you loved the feeling of his heavy length resting on your tongue as you gagged and slobbered all over his shaft.
He must have really got you worked in the kitchen for you to be sucking him off so eagerly like this. It has barely been a few minutes, and he could feel the need to cum. “You suck it like you need it, baby” he tilts his head to the side, lips pursed, as he gently bucks his hips and helps you take him impossibly deep.
The sight of you both in his peripheral vision caught his attention, and he looked in the mirror watching from a different angle how you sucked him off. You looked so fucking good on your knees. “Yes, Mommy, just like that fuck, you’re gonna make me cum in that pretty little mouth already,” he breathes deeply, trying to hold off and enjoy the feeling of your wet mouth just a little longer. “Oh!” He lets out a strained moan when you cradle his balls. “Fuck it feels so good” he throws his head back, his hips moving on their own as he lightly fucks your throat, getting lost in the pleasure.
You take deep, calculated breaths through your nose, never taking a break no matter how tired your jaw gets. The feel of him in your mouth was far too rewarding to stop from a little jaw soreness, especially with the way his needy moans were filling up the space of the bathroom. “Fuck” he groans out, abs tensing and sweat beading on his body. “I’m cumming” he holds his hips, still throbbing on your tongue as he releases his warm semen on your tastebuds. “Ah fuck oh shit,” he moans as the white creamy liquid trickles down your throat.
You moan in pleasure, the taste of him making your clit throb even harder with need. Your cunt was sore. That’s just how engorged it was, and you needed him so bad his mouth, his fingers, his cock, anything would suffice with the insatiable urge that was flowing through your veins right now. “Taste good?” He grins while gripping your chin and tilting your head up. You look so gorgeous with your mouth full of his cock.
“Yes,” you moan when he pulls out of your mouth, your lips swollen from taking his thick cock deep in your throat.
His eyes nearly roll back in his head at just the thought of bringing you pleasure and tasting your pussy. Without another word, he quickly joins you on the tile of the bathroom floor. “Up.” he holds your waist, helping you up and sitting you on the sink. “That’s it, Mommy.” he grabs the waist of your shorts, hooking his fingers inside the waistband of your shorts and yanking them off your hips with minimal effort.
He smiles as you spread your legs wide open for him, and it’s no secret what either of you wants. He places his hands on your knees, keeping you open for him as he presses his face in your cunt, inhaling your scent. “Hmm, smells so good.” he licks his lips. Just your scent has him getting hard all over again.
“Hee,” Throwing your head back, you whine, one hand on the sink, the other in his hair. He moans shamelessly as you call his name, his tongue falling out of his mouth and tracing the path of your swollen folds to your clit.
You sigh in pleasure when you get some type of relief from all the built-up tension down there.
He sucks nips and licks all over your vulva, covering it in a mixture of his spit and your juices that seem never-ending no matter how many times he gulps it down, but he doesn’t care. He could drink you forever.
“So good.” You massaged his scalp, and he looked at you, enjoying all the faces you made, from the small lip bites to the heavy sighs and labored breaths.
He closes his eyes, really devouring you now, nose rubbing your little clit as his tongue sinks inside your hole.
“Oh yes!” Your head cranes backward, your thighs tensing when you feel a certain pressure building slowly in your abdomen.
He flicks his tongue in and out, deliberately nudging your clit with his pointed nose, causing your toes to curl.
“Yeah? That feels good?” He spits on your core, licking it up and shoving it in your hole. Before it can leak out, he stuffs his tongue back in. You fucking it in and out.
“So fucking good,” you praise, and his cock is definitely fully hard now.
He feels your walls tighten, and he’s just waiting for you to cum all around his tongue. His wait isn’t too long, and before you know it, you're creaming on his warm tongue, giving him all the satisfaction of making you orgasm.
“Shit,” Your legs dangle over his shoulders, shaking and trembling as your orgasm washes over you.
Your moans grow louder the more intense the pleasure becomes, and he works his tongue carefully, giving you the most of your high without overstimulating you.
Your breath is uneven, and the tension is releasing from your body now that you got what you were craving so desperately.
He kisses your inner thighs and kneads the soft flesh.
You cup his cheeks, wiping the arousal from his chin, staring at his eyes with something more behind them.
Looking up at you, he sees the blown-out look in your eyes telling him exactly what you need.
He stands up, his knees aching slightly, but he can’t even be bothered right now, too distracted by the intense pulsing of his needy cock.
His hands hold your hips, pulling you towards him, his tip resting on your mound. “Been thinking about this pussy all morning” he rolls his hips painting your core with sticky strings of precum. His eyelids drop so low they’re barely even open.
You whimper, the sensitivity of your high making you feel him much more intensely.
He bites his lip, thrusting on your clit as if he was inside you. “Woke up harder than ever.” he lets out an airy laugh as you stare at him, your brows creasing, and you nibble on your lip, just waiting to feel him inside of you. “Feels so good.” he gives you a lazy smile and bends forward, kissing your forehead. The kiss is much softer and sweeter than what you two are about to do, and somehow, that settles the beating of your heart and braces you for what’s about to come.
You lift your hands from the sink stroking his toned chest, your other grabbing the base of his thick cock, covering him in your wetness. “Ah,” he moans softly, feeling much more sensitive from your touch than his own. “Please put it in, Mommy.” he rests his forehead on yours, both of you watching as you guide him inside you.
Shaky breaths are exchanged as he slips in you with one smooth glide, your hole stretched and ready to swallow up all his inches.
“Look at the way you suck me in” A low hum settles in his chest as he meets you halfway, thrusting his whole length inside of you, knocking the air from your lungs with the pleasurable stretch. “Fuck y/n” his mouth falls open from the way your silky walls feel wrapped so tightly around him.
“Hee,” whining his name, you can’t help but look into his eyes just to see him staring back at you, both of your expressions riddled with pleasure.
He pulls out to the tip and pushes back in, both of your bodies shuddering from the sensation. His cock slid in and out in a steady motion, your arousals mixing together, creating the dirtiest sounds and staining your pussy lips with creamy white.
“Faster.” You fall back against the wall mirror, and he holds you in place, going faster and deeper, so deep you can feel it in your stomach.
Your breasts jiggle with each one of his thrusts, and he stares at them, your perked nipples peeking through your shirt, looking so mesmerizing to his eyes. “Fuck, your pussy is so fucking perfect” A chill runs up his spine every time his tip pushes past that little tight barrier on your opening, and he swears he sees stars. “It feels so fucking good.”
“Keep going” Your body shakes on the sink trusting him to hold you up, and he doesn’t even leave one doubt in your mind as his hold is firm on your waist, keeping you in place no matter how much you write and squirm on his dick. “Fuck yes, so good, so deep, mhhm” Your loud moans bounce off the walls, and your sounds entice him to go as hard as he possibly can.
“You like that, huh? You fucking want me so bad, don’t you?” You shake your head no despite you loving the way his inches fill you up. You know in your right mind you would never say yes to him. You were already committed to another man. You only wanted his dick, not him. “Is that so? Your cunt is saying otherwise, squeezing me so tight I can barely move” he digs his fingers into your skin, his hold on you growing harsher from the force he uses on your body. “Just look at you, spread open, taking it so good.”
“N-no,” you babble out despite rolling your hips to meet his thrusts.
“No? So why are you so wet, hmm? So tight,” he grunts, growing flushed with how much energy he exerts. “Fucking back on me like that.”
You grab onto his shoulders when it becomes too much for you, and he handles you with ease as your body goes limp, completely wrecked by his cock plugging in and out of you so fast and deep.
“See, Mommy? Knew you wanted it,” he smirks, going at an animalistic speed, his balls smacking your ass as his abdomen gets coated in a thin layer of your guy's mixed arousal.
“Oh heeseung!” You moan out loud, wrapping your arms around his neck as he plows you into oblivion.
“Yeah, say my name, Mommy, just like fucking that” he drags his hand down to play with your clit as you cling to him. You’re so so close.
“Yes, yes, yes fuck me,” you squeal out. You can’t help but say the words even though your mind is conflicted. You know it’s wrong to fuck your stepson, but you can’t stop cause it just feels way too good. You’ve never felt anyone like him before.
“Uh uh uh,” he grunts, giving you everything you need and so much more. “Cum on your stepson's dick, Mommy.”
His filthy words put you right on the edge, but you both stop immediately when you hear the front door shut downstairs. “Honey, I’m home early!” You hear your husband’s voice looking at heeseung with fear in your eyes, afraid of being caught, but he doesn���t seem to even care and begins to roll his hips, picking up the pace cause he’ll be damned if he doesn’t get you to come on his dick.
You shake your head back and forth. “N-no heeseung, what if he-” he cups your mouth, keeping you quiet.
“Shh, just let me make you feel good promise we won’t get caught” It was risky, and you knew it, but at this point, you needed to cum on his dick so bad that you’re not even sure if you’d stop if your husband walked right through that door and saw you getting absolutely pounded like a whore by his son.
He drops his hand from your mouth and kisses you to keep you quiet, his other one playing with your clit and winding up your orgasm again.
“Close,” you whimper, clenching around his cock repeatedly.
“I know I can feel you, baby. Keep squeezing on my cock. Keep going cum, and make a fucking mess on me. Mommy want it so bad,” he moans lowly into your mouth.
“Cum inside me,” you whisper to him in your lust-filled daze.
He whines into the kiss, obeying your command. “Yes, Mommy” With three more quick snaps of his hips, you come undone, moaning out loud, but he quickly muffles it with his mouth sloppily kissing you as he stills in your pussy. Those three words instantly made him shoot his thick, creamy load into your walls, filling you up to the absolute brim.
Moaning into each other's mouths, he stroked through your highs, so lost in pleasure and not the slightest bit worried about getting caught.
He leans back, smiling at your exhausted face, and slowly pulls out his load spilling from your pulsing hole and down your ass.
He bends down eagerly, licking it all up, cleaning every single last drop of your combined releases, and then pressing his lips to yours so you both can taste each other.
The taste is something that has you wanting more as you deepen the kiss and lick inside his mouth, not leaving one inch uncovered.
You both finally part for air, and he pats your thigh, grabbing some tissue to wipe you off with. He helps you stand and step back into your shorts while you adjust your shirt and run your fingers through your hair to make yourself presentable.
He peels the shower curtain back, smirking and getting in the shower like you told him to, and when you step out of the bathroom, your husband is standing right outside the door.
“Oh honey, I was looking for you,” he chuckles.
“Oh, I was just getting heeseung his towel. He left it in his room,” you quickly come up with a lie, trying your best to wipe the look of fear off your face with a nervous smile.
“Can’t that boy do anything on his own?” your husband sighs. “Well anyway, what’s for dinner? I’m hungry.”
You close the bathroom door and walk downstairs in front of your husband, discreetly rolling your eyes.
All he ever did was demand you make meals for him and talk down about his son which was admittedly very annoying he talks about his son not doing anything meanwhile all he does is work and laze about all day long waiting on you to do everything for him.
“I’m making your favorite.” You turn to him with a fake smile plastered on your face.
“Well, hurry up.”
You closed your eyes, releasing a deep, and maybe you didn’t feel that guilty after all for fucking his stepson more than just one time.
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#heeseung smut#enhypen heeseung smut#enhypen heeseung#enhypen#heeseung#lee heeseung#lee heeseung smut#enhypen smut#enhypen hard hours#enhypen lee heeseung smut#enhypen lee heeseung#lee heesung x reader#heeseung angst#heeseung fluff#heeseung x reader#enhypen hyung line#enhypen fluff#enhypen fanfic
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MDNI 18+
Wanna bet?
What happens when you bet your virginity with Taiga and lose….
Tokyo Debunkers smut
CW: taiga, mild dub-con, very brief mentions of torture, biting, fem-bodied reader, gambling, virginity loss, selling your body, blood, mild vore, creampies, debt payment through sex, rough sex, cunnilingus in the torture chair, Voyeurism
“Ha! I win again!! Sorry Taiga, looks like I’m up this time!” you laugh at another win for you while taiga grumbles on about a losing streak.
“Hm playing with you isn’t very interesting, you always take the safe bet.” Taiga groans in response.
“Well duh, I’ve seen what kind of treatment the debtors of Sinostra get, and I’m not all that interested in being hunted for sport….” A chill runs down your spine at the thought of you friend Kaito and how he’s constantly being chased and hunted by Romeo. “….your vice captain doesn’t mess around.”
“Gyahahaha! I guess he doesn’t!” Taiga laughs off his vice captains less than legal methods of debt collection. He smiles sinisterly. “hey I know, let’s make this next bet an interesting one.”
“Interesting how?”
“If you win, I’ll clear your little friends debt.” He smirks, knowing that this is gonna be hard to refuse.
“And if I lose?”
“You let me fuck you.” His smile never drops.
Your face goes bright red as you realize how deep shit you’re about to be in. On one hand, you have the chance to clear the massive debt your friend is always whining about, on the other, you stand to lose your viginity, and to Taiga of all people…. Not that he’s unattractive or anything, but he’s not necessarily known for his delicate nature.
“Whatdya say? Sound like a fair bet to you?”
“No way!!” You huff at even the mention, but it actually doesn’t sound too bad. Besides, you’ve been on a winning streak….. Taiga’s been losing at every play….
“Suit yourself, but I spy Romeo on his way to hunt for debtors.” Taiga grins and nods toward the casino entrance, where Romeo has his sniper rifle loaded and ready to go hunt some debtors and shake them down.
“….fine. You’re on.”
“Great! Let’s play roulette for it then.” He tosses his arm around your shoulder and leads you to the roulette wheels.
“Why the sudden change?”
“We’re leaving this one up to chance! That way if you lose you can’t say I fixed the match gyahaha!”
You look at the wheel in front of you. Taiga watches intently.
“Red or black? It’s your choice.” He nods toward the wheel.
“…..I choose black.”
“Hm, don’t think so. Red for me then.”
The reality of the situation is starting to hit you. The ball rolls around as you watch Taiga. He’s completely enthralled by the game. He really is nice to look at, but he’s kinda scary, and he’s always so harsh….. If you lose, you’re really going to be at his mercy…..
And just as you have that thought, the ball lands on red. You lose. He turns to you and smiles.
“Better luck next time~” his voice dripping with faux sympathy.
He wastes no time in tossing you up over his shoulder and walking away from the casino and towards his room. He tosses you down on the bed and climbs on top of you.
“H-hey hey wait!!” You put your hands between the two of you, trying to keep a bit of distance. Your face is starting to turn a bit red.
“Hm, not going back on your bet now, are you?” His smile drops.
“L-let’s at least make one rule okay? A safe word? Right…?”
Taiga considers for a moment. “Sure, what’s your word?”
“….cashmere. And if I say that you have to stop no matter what…. Okay?” You say a bit sheepishly now.
“Mhm, but this is gonna be fun, I promise….” He pushes you onto your back, straddling your hips, keeping you pinned beneath his weight.
He leans over. You look up at him, unsure what to expect from here, so you just nod, visibly nervous.
In a surprisingly gentle motion, he brushes some hair away from your face. Then in contrast, he presses his lips against yours in a hungry sort of kiss.
As the kiss gets more intense, his hands snake down your waist to a firm grip on your hips. Your own hands starting to feel more comfortable wrap around his neck to pull him closer. Having his body pressed against yours during the heated kiss doesn’t feel as bad as you’d thought…. Actually it feels good, really good.
His body is toned and extremely warm against your own. His hands rubbing small circles on your hips, gently raising them just enough for you to feel him getting hard down there.
He nips at your lip and upon your gasp, his tongue enters your mouth. You taste a bit of blood, but that’s the last thing on your mind now as he begins to dominate your mouth. One of his hands moves away from your hips and traces up your waist and under your shirt.
You inadvertently gasp slightly and arch your back as his hand feels around your breasts, roughly squeezing the soft flesh.
His mouth breaks away from the kiss and moves down to your neck. It starts out gentle, as light kisses, but it quickly progresses into soft nibbles, then a full on bite.
“Ow!” Your hands move to push him off, but he catches both your hands in one of his own, not even needing to look up. He pins your hands above your head.
“Be good.” He growls into your neck, fully taking in the scent of you. You feel a drop of blood drip from the bite. He licks it up and kisses the wound.
He begins to roll his clothed dick against your hips, grinding into you at a painfully slow pace. You buck your hips, desperate for just a little more friction, but with his free hand he keeps you pinned down. He continues to nibble and bite at your neck and shoulders. Making sure to lick up any blood that begins to flow.
The hand he has on your hips now is tugging at the waistband of your uniform skirt, slowly pulling it down. Your face heats up a bit. He releases your hands to remove your shirt, as well as his own. He’s lean, but undeniably muscular. There are a few scars littering his skin, likely from his own reckless behavior in the field…..
Your eyes wander his chest and torso, not even noticing your own exposure until he sits up, still on top of you, and lets out a low whistle.
“You sure keep your aces close, dontcha?” He grins, eyeing your chest. He removes your bra with skill and precision. “That’s a view I could get used to…”
You start to feel the embarrassment of being almost fully nude in front of him. You try to cover yourself with your hands a bit. He clicks his tongue and stands up.
“None of that.” He pulls you off the bed with him and shoves you down in his torture chair. He straps you down before you can even get a word in.
With your arms strapped into the chair he sits on the floor and pulls your hips toward his face, spreading your legs.
“Taiga what are-“
“Shut up. Not another word. Let me enjoy this.” His tone is dangerous, much more serious than you’re used to. He threads your underwear around his finger and pulls it to the side, taking in the sight of your pussy all exposed for him.
“You’re wet.” He grins.
“Well yeah but-“
“I said shut up.” He glares at you from the floor. Once again, dead serious. He plants his hand on the sensitive spot where your leg meets your hip and uses his thumb to brush your entrance open, collecting some of your slick onto his finger. He grins and tastes it.
“Fuck, princess, that tastes good….” Wasting no more time, he shoves his face into your pussy. He licks and sucks on your sensitive clit.
You gasp and squirm around at the unfamiliar sensation of pleasure down there. Your hands move against the restraints of the chair and you whine a bit.
Taiga continues to suck your clit, now playing with the entrance to your cunt with one of his fingers, but not going all that deep.
You feel a twisting sort of knot begin to form in your stomach as you start bucking your hips shamelessly into his face.
“That’s right, cum on my face pretty girl…..” he growls into your heat. The vibration of his words pushes you over the edge. You cry out as pleasure rips through your body. He speeds up, then pulls away.
The lower half of his face is dripping with your juices. He chuckles. “I didn’t take you for someone so eager.”
As you pant and start to come down from your high, he undoes the restraints. He pets your hair lovingly, leaning down so his breath hits your neck. “Now we can start for real.”
He tosses you back onto his bed, with no regard for how easy it is for him to completely manhandle you. He pushes himself between your legs and starts to position himself at your entrance.
“Such a good girl….” He leans down and kisses you. It’s a bit more gentle this time. He pushes his tip in, groaning a bit at how tight you are. “….fuck, I thought I prepped enough. Relax.”
You feel his girth starting to stretch out the entrance of your pussy. He rolls his hips a bit, trying to get a little bit further in. You can’t choke down the moan of pleasure that escapes your mouth. “Fuck taiga~”
And at that sound, he can’t help himself, he snaps his hips all the way against yours, plunging himself balls deep in a matter of seconds. You cry out in pain, but he wastes no time to let you adjust.
His mouth takes over yours and he draws his hips back just to snap them into yours again. He greedily sucks on your lower lip as he fucks himself up into you at a brutal pace. His movements as fast and rough, but he makes sure to hit that sweet spot inside you each time.
You can’t even keep track of the noises leaving your mouth. He lifts one of your legs up into your chest to hit even deeper inside you.
His mouth moves down to your neck, once again nipping and sucking as he rails into you. His pace still not even beginning to ease. You feel that same knot start to form in your gut.
You try your best to verbalize what’s about to happen but instead, Taiga snaps into you even rougher.
“That’s it doll, cum all over my dick. Fuck yoh feel so fucking good….”
You cry out again and do just that. Creaming all over his relentless cock. He doesn’t even bother to slow down as he rides you through your high.
“Shit, squeezing me so fucking tight…. Don’t know how much longer I can last like this….”
Without any more warning than that, he flips you over onto your stomach and drags you to the edge on the bed so your legs dangle over the edge. He stands up and begins to hit even deeper inside you, his cock now bullying at your cervix.
He has your hips lifted up off the bed and face pressed into the mattress. You’re practically drooling all over his sheets the way your jaw is hung slack from the intense pleasure. Incomprehensible sounds leaving your mouth.
“That’s right sweetheart, fuck, lemme hear it…”
His balls hitting your clit at each rut into you is sending you close to the edge again, he leans over you, pressing his hot sweaty chest against your bare back, wrapping his hand lightly around your throat. He bites into the nape of your neck hard.
His pace is starting to get even harsher, pulling you even closer to another orgasm as well as letting you know that he’s getting close too.
With a few more rough thrusts he clenches his jaw around the flesh of the back of your neck. And buries his cock as deep as he can inside you, ripping another orgasm from you. Then another thrust, and you feel him twitch inside you. He holds you in place, with the tip of his dick roughly pressed against your cervix as far as it can go. You feel his hot cum full your insides, starting as deep as it can. He lets out a few shaky breaths and releases his jaw.
“Fuck. s’good…..”
His hands give one more squeeze to your hips. He rolls his hips against yours just a few more times to milk all of his seed out into your throbbing cunt. Then he pulls out, leaving you feeling emptier than you thought possible. He lets out another shaky sigh and leans down. He watches his cum start to drip out of you. He slides his finger up your slit, gathering the cum and shoves it back into you.
Upon closer inspection, he notices small streaks of red along with the cum. He tilts his head.
“Were you a virgin….?”
His question catches you a bit off guard and drags you back to reality. “Huh? H-how’d you-?”
“Shit. Id have bet way more if i knew…. Sex is one thing but your virginity? Id’ve at least bet something important. More important than that whining brats debt.”
He stands up fully, stretches a bit and drops over you. Pinning you against him in a death grip. He nuzzles his face into your neck, taking in the smell of you. “Felt so fuckin good though…. I wanna keep you all to myself from now on…..”
you try to squirm a bit in embarrassment, but your body is too exhausted from being completely fucked out. “….yeah whatever.” You grumble a bit, still a bit embarrassed. “Can’t you at least clean up?”
Taiga groans but releases you. He gets up and cleans up for you. He lays on top of you again, this time keeping just enough distance to look at your face. It’s hard to read his expression, so you just stare back.
“You’re mine now, okay?”
You blink a few times. “….okay.”
“Good, also you’re staying here tonight, I’m not done with you yet.” He gives you another kiss.
BONUS:
Romeo, now done with his debt collecting for the day and looking for the captain, ready to give that BTH another good scolding about how he should be treating the casino patrons. He storms into Taiga’s room, only to be greeted by the sight of that BTH fucking right into the BB(basic bitch) who’s face is pressed into the mattress so much she didn’t even notice his entry. Taiga makes eye contact though, not even bothering to stop what he’s doing. He grins and opens his mouth like he’s about to say something. Romeo doesn’t give him the chance. His face twists in disgust and he immediately backs out of the room, shutting the door behind himself.
“Was he in there Fico?” One of his goons questions.
“Nope. He must be busy…..” Romeo clears his throat and walks away. He’s gonna try to forget he saw that.
#tokyo debunker#tokyo debunkers#taiga hoshibami#tokyo debunkers smut#tokyo debunkers x reader#taiga hoshibami x reader#taiga Hoshibami smut#taiga x reader#taiga x reader smut#romeo lucci#poor Romeo was not expecting that
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smitten by the blackest force
Pairing: Mary Goore x f!Reader
Rating: Explicit, 18+ ONLY MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
Tags: witch reader, cemetery sex, deals with the devil, rough sex, devil's marks, mary goore being some kind of supernatural being...?
Words: 2,861
Summary: If this is your Mephistopheles well...just call you Doctor Faustus.
a/n: mary please return my calls i desperately need to get fucked in a cemetery. mary are you there? mary?
~~~
You like this cemetery.
It’s old. Quiet. Set back in the oak trees off the dirt road with ivy entwined in the wrought-iron fencing. You liked to come here often - even on the occasions where you weren’t conducting rituals - sometimes packing a sandwich and an Arizona tea and just sitting on the grass - keeping the spirits whose names have long worn off the headstones company. You’ve never seen anyone else visit but somehow the grass is always trimmed back, never overgrown. Even the local teenagers don’t fuck with this place, your little hideout, and for that you’re extremely grateful. There are some rumors among the townspeople about devil worshippers in the area but considering the questionable nature of your own practice, you aren’t too worried about them (if they even exist at all.)
Right now you’ve got a blanket spread out to sit on, a knitted shawl around your shoulders, and your various bottles and crystals surrounding you. You hauled out a few camping lanterns from your car to keep the spot well-lit as the sun dips down below the forested horizon. Sighing you lay back against the blanket beneath you, breathing in the evening air and the quiet.
Snap.
The sound has you shooting up, clutching your shawl and eyes darting. The only thing you can hear is the sound of nature around you - crickets and cicadas. You open your mouth with the intention of asking if anyone is there before you promptly close it, thinking better of it. You’ve been out here at night before - countless times - and never encountered anything sinister but you’re not stupid and inviting anything in. Besides, you think as your shoulders sag, it was probably an animal. You scoot back on your blanket until your back is flush with the tall mossy headstone behind you, feeling more secure with its protection. A few minutes pass and you yawn, watching the blink of fireflies in the distance. You slump against the stone, and you feel so cozy and content as your eyelids slide close you only vaguely register the low chuckle coming from somewhere behind you. You’re in the beginning stages of drifting off when a teasing whistle winds its way through the gravestones. You jolt upwards, head whipping around but neither seeing nor hearing anything. That is, until a soft tsk-ing sound comes from behind you and you watch as thick, beat-up boot soles stroll into your line of vision. You crawl away from the person, heart thundering in your chest and your anxiety thrumming through your veins reminding you that you’re probably going to die. When the figure stops at a nearby tall headstone and leans back against it, crossing their legs at the ankles, they speak.
“Kind of a shitty witch who falls asleep in a fucking cemetery,” they smirk, crossing their arms. Thanks to a nearby lantern you’re able to get a better look at them - skinny, but not tall, wearing torn up jeans and a ratty band shirt with the sleeves cut off. Most of their face is hidden by the messy black lock of hair that hangs down over their forehead but you swear they’re wearing some kind of face paint and was that…blood?
“Who the fuck are you?” you snap, eyes darting around for anything you can use as a weapon.
“Oh she’s a mean little thing,” they crow, pushing off the headstone and stepping towards you. The panic is really starting to set in and you wonder if you’d be able to make it to one of the lanterns and hit them in th–
“Relax, sweetheart,” they say, crouching into a squat a few feet from you, “if I wanted you dead you’d be dead one of the other dozen times I’ve seen you alone out here.”
Your blood runs cold as you remind yourself there are things worse than death.
“You’ve been watching me? W-where there’s never anyone around–”
“Forest is big,” they say casually, dropping to their knees and sitting back on their haunches. “Lots of spots between the trees. And I’m real quiet.”
All of this is…troubling information to say the least but their first words stand out to you.
“How did you know I’m a witch?”
They nod, large pale hands resting on their thighs.
“We’ve been watching you for a while. Kind of a…local weirdo in this area, aren’t you? Small town shit seems a little beneath someone like you.”
You snort.
“I like the quiet. And most people mind their fucking business out here. Sorry, did you say ‘we’ve’ been watching?”
“Oh yeah, y’know, the uh,” they bring their hands up to their head and make horns with their fingers, “devil worshippers.”
Huh.
Intriguing.
You scoot a little closer to them and notice the way their full lips twitch in a minute smile.
“The old folk of the town talk about you guys but I never gave it any credence. Thought it was just leftover Satanic panic horseshit from the eighties.”
“Mmm well,” they begin, “we’re not your typical uh…Satan worshippers. It’s kind of more of a big deal than that. Actually, a lot of a big deal.”
“Oh yeah?” There's something magnetic about this slender creature whose green eyes glint in the lantern light. While you’re not necessarily soothed by their presence you cannot deny that you are drawn in.
“Yeah,” they confirm, “I’ll tell you more about it later but uh, let’s talk about you, huh?”
“What about me?” you ask, some of your caution returning.
“Well we’ve seen what you do. Got eyes on you. And we’d like to offer you a place at the Ministry. Our practices aren’t so different, are they?”
No, you think to yourself, no they’re not. You’re no stranger to demon work and after all what is Lucifer but the demon to end all demons? And all your dealings with them have always led to successful rituals and outcomes.
“So what do I get out of it? And why didn’t you just come to my house or my work to ask me all this?”
The slightly sinister chuckle that comes out of them stirs something within you.
“Protection. Power. The ability to do whatever you want, whenever you want to. A home.”
That last one hits you hard but you stay silent.
“Are you interested?”
A moment passes.
“Aren’t you going to ask me if I want to live deliciously or whatever?”
They tilt their head back and laugh, slapping their thighs with their palms.
“Haven’t told you how we seal the deal yet, sweetheart.”
“Oh? And that would be…?”
“A surprise. Which you’ll find out about when you answer my question. Are you in?”
You were supposed to be charging your crystals in the moonlight and collecting cemetery dirt tonight, not making a fucking deal with the Devil. But, you think as you look at the figure eyeing you intently, everything happens for a reason.
“Yes. Yes I’m in.”
He gives you a wide, sharp grin.
“I knew you wouldn’t let me down, gorgeous. I’ve been looking forward to this for a long time.”
Before you can ask what they mean, they’re crawling towards you like some kind of spindly cryptid. You’d be lying if it didn’t arouse you even as you back up against a headstone with nowhere else to go.
“C’mon sweetheart,” they purr, wrapping their fingers around your ankle. “Time to give the Devil his due.”
You yelp as they yank your body towards them, their hand sliding along the curve of your calf and up to your knee.
“And you’re the Devil are you?” you breathe, watching them slither up your body and settle between your legs.
“Me? Nah. I’m just the poster guy who gets to reap all the rewards.”
“And what do I call you?”
They lean in to inhale deep at the juncture of your neck and shoulder and you have to bite back a moan.
“Wanna know what name you’ll be screaming out tonight, huh?”
“Think pretty highly of yourself,” you murmur, bringing a hand up to drag your fingernails along their back. When they growl and grind their denim-covered cock against you, you grin.
“You’re awfully mouthy, aren’t you?”
“Thought you wanted to hear my voice?”
They’ve got their hands on the hem of your shirt, fingers grazing the skin of your belly, when they look at you with a wicked smile.
“Take this off before I rip it off,” they growl, raising the fabric insistently. You gleefully acquiesce, watching their eyes boggle as your bare breasts sway in front of them. Leaning back on your elbows you blink innocently up at them, watching their tongue dart out to smear the paint near their lips.
“Fucking finally,” they grouse before falling upon you and taking your pebbled nipple in their mouth.
“You–ah–never answered my question.”
They slide off your breast and grin up at you.
“Call me Mary.”
There’s no softness in their attentions, all hard sucking and teeth nipping but fuck if it isn’t exactly what you need. It’s been a while - much longer than you’d like to admit - ever since you moved to this podunk little town. The selection wasn’t exactly uh, bountiful. You’ve got your head tilted back as they suck pretty dark bruises into your flesh but when they give your unattended nipple a sharp pinch your eyes fly to theirs.
“Eyes on me, sweetheart. Want you to remember exactly who fucked you this good.”
You laugh.
“Haven’t done any fucking yet, have you? I’m withholding my judgment.”
Instantly, they pull away and sit back on their haunches.
“You little bitch,” they crow with a crooked grin, “Oh you’re gonna be fun to have around.”
You’ve propped yourself up once more, watching Mary as they rub the bulge in their jeans.
“Drooling a little, huh baby?”
Maybe. But you’ll be damned if they know it.
“Yeah, out of boredom. Are you gonna sit there rubbing one out all night?”
They squeeze their cock, grinning down at you.
“Maybe I should fill your mouth instead of your cunt? Stuff you so full of me you’ll really be drooling. I’ll shut you up then, huh?”
You’re not totally opposed to the idea but the ache between your thighs needs attention before any other extracurricular activities occur.
“I’ll be good–” you say, reaching down to wiggle your joggers and underwear off your hips. When the heat of you is exposed to their gaze, you slide your fingers between your folds to gather the slick that has accumulated. Satisfied, you raise your hand to your mouth and slowly slide the digits between your lips onto your tongue, “--I promise.”
Mary’s panting now, the heavy rise and fall of their chest hypnotic as they drink you in. They’ve still got their hand to their bulge, lazily squeezing their cock through the fabric. Suddenly their fingers are viciously unbuttoning and unzipping their pants and you both sigh as they take their cock out. It’s a pretty thing, all red and swollen and dripping, and you know it’s going to look even prettier inside you. They stroke it, smearing the pre down the shaft with their lips curled into a grin.
“That’s all it takes to make you pipe down? A nice dick?”
“Who said anything about it being nice?” you say, but your breathy tone gives away your true feelings. They look altogether too pleased with themselves as they scoot forward and drag the tip through your wet folds. When they nudge your clit with the head your hips buck up and you whine.
“Now that’s more like it,” they smirk, pressing against your entrance. “Beg for it,” they snarl, pushing in the tip.
“Fuck Mary, please. I need it, need your fucking cock to fill me up, please, please, please.”
They laugh, the sound jarring in the near darkness.
“Damn, could’ve stopped at the first ‘please’ but you sounded so pretty doing it, think I’ll give you an extra good ride tonight.”
You’re about to say something caustic but before the words can even leave your mouth, they slam their cock into you, knocking the breath from your lungs. True to their word, they set a brutal pace, gripping your thighs and eyes flicking between your bouncing breasts and where they disappear inside of you.
“B-been awhile, huh?” they pant, hips snapping into yours. “Almost like you’ve been w-waiting for me. Saving it up.”
You don’t have it in you to be snarky anymore, too stuffed dumb. So you nod frantically.
“Mmhmm,” you whimper, “all for you Mare, fuck right there.”
“Shoulda done this weeks ago,” they growl, “Instead of jerking off in the–augh–fucking woods. Never–fuck–never thought you’d be so easy.”
You’re not sure if they mean your deal with the Devil or the fucking but honestly you can’t bring yourself to care about anything right now that isn’t their cock pounding into you at a furious rate. They’re relentless, wrenching noises out of you you didn’t even know you could make. When they drag their hand to where you’re joined and dip a thumb in to rub at your clit your body arches off the grass.
“Fuck, Mary!”
“Know you’re close,” they grunt, “can f-feel you. Come on baby, let go. Give yourself to me. Give yourself to Him.”
The entire situation - the damp slide of the grass under your fingertips, the thick night air, the deal you just made, the cock currently hammering inside you - hits you all at once and your hips spasm.
“Don’t stop, Mare, please holy fuck yes, right there.”
Your hands fly to your breasts, cupping the weight of them and viciously pinching at the taut buds, making your lover groan and their hips stutter against you.
“C’mon yeah, play with those pretty fuckin’ tits, sweetheart. Oh fuck.”
You’re clenching around them now as they frantically rub at your clit and piston in and out of you, your moans increasing in volume and pitch. You feel as if you’re levitating, mouth hung open in a silent scream as you come undone, chanting their name.
“That’s it baby,” they snarl, gritting their teeth, “Cum for me, cum all over this cock–ah!”
You’re still riding your own high when you feel their cock twitch inside of you, flooding you with their seed. Their hoarse moans nearly send you into your second orgasm and your eyes slide shut, enjoying the feeling of them emptying inside you when–
They’re gone.
You heave a gasp as if taking a breath after being held underwater, hands flying to the ground beneath you. Mary’s gone–just fucking…gone. The only remnant of them currently dripping out of your used cunt onto the grass. You’re trembling while simultaneously being flooded with warmth as if you’ve been overcome by an awful fever. You ease yourself onto your side and curl into a fetal position, watching a ladybug crawl over the stone next to you. You’re not sure how long you lie there, shivering in the dark, but when your mind finally comes to you see the rosy planes of dawn stretching out through the trees. With great effort you push yourself off the ground - using the headstone for stabilization - your knees nearly giving way when you finally manage to stand. Sluggishly, you pull your underwear and pants up and spot your t-shirt a couple feet away crumpled in a pile. All your little vials and crystals stand as silent witnesses to the depravity that occurred last night and you hastily snatch them up and pile them into your tote bag. Your mind is a haze - too much of a haze to gather the blanket and lanterns - so you stumble out of the gate and head towards your car.
You don’t remember driving home but when you push the door open to the old house you rent, you feel…filthy. You’re not sure if it’s from your encounter with Mary or something else but you know one thing - you desperately need a shower. Your bags get dropped in the living room and you mechanically strip as you head to your bathroom. The shower is just what you needed - the firm stream of scalding hot water on your hair and body rejuvenating. When you step out into your steamy bathroom, you let out a deep sigh. The further you got from the events of last night the more they felt like some kind of wild dream, and you would be content to convince yourself of this were it not for the purple bruises peppered across your breasts that you spotted in the shower. You drop your towel and pad out into your bedroom to look for something clean and comfy to wear when you walk past your full-length mirror and stop dead in your tracks. There’s something on you - you think maybe it’s a tick or mud - so you turn the bedroom light on. High on your thigh, right in the center is a perfectly round mark, the size of a pencil eraser.
You don’t have any birthmarks.
Your stomach floods with panic and you fall to your knees on the rug, still naked and damp.
There’s a knock at your door.
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Chasing Cars | ch 5.5 (jjk)
☆summary: when your brother goes to study on a semester abroad, your life collides with his best friend Jeon Jungkook, who's coincidentally your roommate. Will you survive the collision, or will you crumble into dust?
☆pairings: brother's best friend!Jungkook x younger sister!female reader
☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, some chapters contain mature content)
☆genre: forbidden love?au, college!au, slice of life!au, smut, angst (as usual a lot of it), fluff
☆warnings: explicit content: mentions of jerking off and of fingering/cum play
☆word count: 2k
☆a/n: i am drunk have fun i love jin <3
☆join the discord server here!
☆series masterpost
☆☆☆☆☆
If I lay here
If I just lay here
Would you lie with me and just forget the world?
Chasing Cars, Snow Patrol
☆☆☆☆☆
Jungkook has been confused. He’s been confused since he woke up tangled up in bed with you, remembering the events of the night before. Remembering the feeling of you on his dick - how right it felt, yet how wrong it was.
It was wrong, because you’re Taehyung’s sister. You aren’t supposed to be together like that. Hell, without Taehyung, your paths would have never crossed. So he pulled away. Locked himself in a dark part of his mind, some place he doesn’t want you to ever set foot in, and he forced himself to distance himself from you.
He knows you noticed. Maybe that’s why, when the power came back on, he didn’t immediately leave like he originally thought he would. But when you teased him from crying over the anime you watched, he knew your time was over.
No matter how much he didn’t want it to be.
Does he blame you for growing annoyed? No. He understands. He understands why you’ve been giving him the cold shoulder. He thinks he deserves it, yet when he sees you at the library during his shift, he can’t help the way his heartbeat picks up in his chest, recognizing you for what you are.
Something he’ll never dare name.
So maybe it’s on purpose that he steps in your way when you’re walking out of the library. Maybe it’s to see what you’ll do, if you’ll speak the words he so desperately wanted you to say when he said it was time to go back to normal. Words he’ll also never dare think, because what if Taehyung knows?
What if Taehyung knows and he simultaneously loses his best friend and you?
Jungkook meets your gaze, a smile reaching for his lips, though he doesn’t let it reach its destination. Your friend Ria snorts, and Jungkook steps aside, frowning slightly. He doesn’t miss the way your cheeks slowly turn red, even more so as you say, “Ignore her.”
His eyes find yours again. “Noted,” he lets out, and then it’s like the moment is stretching. It’s like it’s you and him alone in the library, Ria fading out of focus. He can almost imagine the power being out, and the bubble you’d been wrapped in still floating around the two of you.
But the bubble bursts when a girl speaks next to him - Allison, he thinks - though he reckons the bubble probably burst when he told you you should pretend nothing ever happened.
Allison says she needs help, and he has no reason to refuse considering that it’s part of his job, so he has to walk away, unable to tell you anything more.
To his surprise, you don’t get home until much later that evening, while he’s a beer and a half in with Jimin, playing video games to decompress after work. Jungkook’s heart skips a beat, and he finds himself asking, “Done studying?”
You nod as you shrug, saying, “I can’t retain any more information. My head feels like it’s going to explode.”
“Maybe I could help with that,” he teases you, if only so that he can see that blush on your cheeks again.
The one that almost makes him forget that your brother is Taehyung.
Almost.
“You wish, JK.”
He does. He fucking does, and it’s all kinds of stupid that he does. Especially as Jimin is right there, hidden in the bathroom.
“Want a beer?” Jungkook asks even though he knows he shouldn’t. He just doesn’t want you to disappear in your room, not when you’re finally talking to him again.
Jimin intervenes before you answer, convincing you to indeed share a beer with them, and a few seconds later, you’re joining Jungkook in the living room while Jimin goes to fetch a beer for you and him. You sit on Jungkook’s left, as far as you possibly can, and his heart does that weird thing again. It makes him feel awkward, and he clenches his jaw.
“Feel free to grab this if you get cold,” he says, motioning to the blanket on the table, if only so that he can cut through the awkwardness. He offers you a smile, gaze meeting yours, but you gulp as you look away.
“We should talk about…” you whisper.
His heart rate increases so suddenly he thinks he might be about to go into cardiac arrest. “What about it?”
You shoot him a warning glance, probably because it’s likely that Jimin heard, and it settles Jungkook’s heart in his chest. It makes no sense, especially not to himself, and he offers you a smirk.
You blush, and he thinks he’s floating, but then Jimin walks out of the kitchen, interrupting the moment. He falls back down to Earth, and when Jimin suggests watching Attack on Titan, Jungkook finds himself saying.
Maybe because your gravity is pulling him in, and he doesn’t want the distraction of having to focus on a game. Hell, he’s not even sure he’d be able to focus - all he manages to do as the anime advances is lean infinitely closer to you.
Action speaks louder than words, he reckons, because he finds himself half-sprawled on you, and it feels like heaven. For this peaceful moment, he doesn’t care that Jimin is right there, eyeing you suspiciously. He’s just happy to be with you, and he thinks it’ll have to suffice.
Jimin leaves right as the episode ends, claiming Sera is waiting for him. Jungkook knows that she isn’t - she was with Lisa tonight, but he won’t call Jimin out. Not when he thinks it might be because Jimin wants to leave you two alone, something he’s been craving more than he thought he did.
“So,” Jungkook lets out when Jimin has left. “You wanted to talk?”
His heart immediately starts beating wildly in his chest, and he disguises it by tilting his head to the side in what he hopes is an innocent gesture.
You nod once. “Yes.”
His heartbeat is so loud he barely can even hear you say the simple word, yet he replies, “I’m listening.”
“What should we do about Taehyung?”
The question lands like a blow to the face, and he sucks in a breath as regrets swirl within him. “Nothing.” He has to force the next sentence out, and it tastes bitter on his tongue. “We just pretend nothing happened, no?”
You don’t like it. He can tell that you don’t - you stiffen, turning ashen.
“Is that what you want?” you ask.
No. Not at all. Not in a million years. But it’s the only possible outcome, so he hides his hands in the pockets of his pants, if only to hide the slight tremble that’s taken over them, tremble that he’s able to keep to a minimum, unaffecting his voice.
“Yeah. I don’t see why it would need to be a big deal,” he says.
But it is. It’s a big deal, and he never realized how good of an actor he is before today.
“It’s not a big deal,” you mutter. “‘I’m not trying to make it into a big deal.”
He’s an asshole, he knows he is. Rotten to the bone, as he says, “Right,” a smirk on his lips.
You’re annoyed. You shut your eyes, shaking your head. “No, for real,” you insist. “If you want us to just pretend that nothing happened, then we do that.”
He doesn’t want it, but isn’t it the safest option? Isn’t it saving you both the embarrassment and heartbreak that Taehyung would cause you if he knew?
“You awfully sound like that’s not what you want,” he forces himself to say, though he hopes you can hear the true meaning in his words. That it isn’t what he wants, though he can’t say it aloud.
“I just don’t want things to get weird.” You pause, and then add, “Since we live together.”
On that Jungkook can reassure you. He’d never let things grow weird between the two of you.
“Don’t worry about it, peach,” he says. “I won’t make things weird.”
Yet, as he says the words, something aches. Especially as the silence stretches while you hold each other’s gaze until your eyes fall to the beer in your hand. Jungkook almost wants to tell you to look at him, to never stop looking at him.
Instead, he heads towards his room, wishing you good night over his shoulder.
*****
Emily is a nice girl. She’s gorgeous, Jungkook is entirely aware of it, yet he doesn’t find in her eyes what he’s looking for.
He doesn’t think he’ll be able to find it again. Not when he sees you walking into the bar, carrying yourself with that gentle elegance that attracts the gaze. You eye him up and down, and then glance away. He follows your line of gaze to notice Hoseok walking towards you, and something very ugly settles deep in his chest as he watches Hoseok pressing a kiss on your temple. Jungkook clenches his jaw, and then forces himself to focus on Emily, even though he’d rather not be stuck with her right now.
And he remains stuck for a while until she says she has to go to the bathroom. He doesn’t miss it for the invitation that it is, yet he ignores it, telling her he’ll wait for her at the bar.
Especially considering that you’re in his vicinity again, talking to a long-haired blond guy, and you look uncomfortable as all hell. It shows in the tense spread of your shoulders, and in the way your eyes keep darting to the side. Jungkook doesn’t hesitate, stepping closer.
“I realized that none of them compared to you,” Jungkook hears as he stops behind you, and his heart squeezes uncomfortably in his chest at the blatant flirting.
You take a step back, bumping into Jungkook, and he asks, “Hey, everything okay here?”
You meet his gaze, your eyes panicked, and Jungkook moves closer, wrapping his arm around your waist, trying to reassure you. The guy scoffs, and Jungkook holds you a little tighter, only because he can.
“You’re fucking your brother’s friend?” he asks.
Jungkook almost wants to say ‘What about it?’, but you push him off of you, and he stumbles back, eyes going round.
“I am not,” you spit, and it hurts far more than it should. “Maybe he just tried to step in because you can’t fucking take a clue, can you?”
There’s a moment of stunned silence as Jungkook finds himself stifling a surprised laugh.
“Excuse me?” the guy eventually says.
“You heard the lady,” Jungkook intervenes. “Fuck off.”
The seething look you throw Jungkook’s way almost makes him cower from how unexpected it was.
“I don’t fucking need your help,” you throw at him.
Something definitely aches now, and Jungkook frowns, watching as you slightly shake your head, an apologetic look on your features. But he’s stunned silent, stunned realizing how much he wanted to protect you.
How you didn’t want him to protect you. Because why would you? He only fucked you once because the circumstances aligned for it, and now he’s told you you should pretend nothing happened.
He barely minds the animosity then. He thinks he deserves it. So when Emily pulls on his arm, telling him she’s been waiting for him, and then adding for just him to hear that Eunwoo, one of his close friends, is throwing up in the hallway next to the bathroom, Jungkook finds himself following her.
Even though all his instincts tell him to stay with you.
Much later that night, after Jungkook has gotten drunk alone back at the apartment after dropping Eunwoo off at his, Jungkook stares at the text he sent you.
It sits unanswered, and Jungkook thinks, maybe he is the problem after all.
☆☆☆☆☆
hihihi i am actually very drunk but i hope you guys liked it!! please let me know what you think about the drabble and about our baby simp jungkook
All rights reserved to @/oddinary4bts, 2024. Do not copy, repost or translate.
#chasing cars ch 5.5#jungkook smut#jungkook angst#jungkook fluff#jungkook x you#jungkook x reader#jungkook fic#jungkook#jjk smut#jjk angst#jjk fluff#jjk x you#jjk x reader#jjk fic#jjk#jeon jungkook#btswritersclub#chasing cars#chasing cars series
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Angel + Vox & Nightmare
Gonna post this one to Ao3 later because it got long (5 sentences? No, 66 sentences!)
Of all the things Angel Dust wanted to be doing at 9 AM on a Saturday, climbing several flights of stairs to go wake up his boss’ ex had to be at the bottom of the list. Angel was more of a “sleep ‘til noon” type of guy anyway, and having to stop breakfast midway through to go figure out what was taking Vox so long was just adding insult to injury, at least in his opinion.
Counting the room numbers as he made his way down the hallway, Angel let himself indulge in petty complaints— partially because pointless bitching was one of his favorite pastimes, and partially because he needed any possible distraction from who he’d been sent to rouse.
Finally arriving at Room 418, Angel couldn’t help but snort to himself as he realized that paying attention to the room numbers had been wholly unnecessary; it was impossible to miss the large, blue “V” carved into the door. One of Vox and Pentious’ projects he guessed, based on how the “V” was actually properly carved into the door rather than burned or scratched in.
Of course he still has to put his fucking name on everything, even after—
Silencing that thought before it could finish, Angel approached the door and began wrapping on it impatiently.
“Vox. Wake up, ya lousy sonuvabitch, you’re missing’ breakfast. Charlie wants ya.”
He paused for a moment. No response. Well, that wasn’t surprising. Vox went missing all the time, either hiding in their electronics or popping up in weird areas of the hotel that he had no reason to go to. Still, better to make sure he wasn’t actually in there before going all the way back downstairs to report back to Charlie. Angel resumed knocking, raising his voice to be heard through the door.
“Sparky, you alive in there? I ain’t got all day.” Maybe the demeaning nickname would work? …Nope, still nothing.
Thoroughly exasperated, Angel was ready to throw in the towel and go tell Charlie to find Alast- no, to find someone else to look for Vox, until he bent down to press his “ear” (the hair around where his ears used to be that allowed him hear? Angel didn’t know, his biology was weird.) to the keyhole, not expecting to hear anything.
But he did hear something.
It was faint, smothered by distance and the sound of static, but… it sounded like two people talking. Or rather, one person talking and the other one moaning.
It was as though he’d suddenly been doused in ice water. Angel felt every muscle in his body tense, his mouth running dry. Not knowing what he hoped to accomplish, he found himself wrenching open the door, which, thankfully, turned out to be unlocked.
Vox’s room was dark, illuminated only by the faint light of his static-filled screen. He was alone (thank God), lying on top of his bed, wires plugged into his charging terminal. Angel wished he could feel relieved, but the tension still remained, hanging heavy in the air like the humidity that preceded a thunderstorm.
Vox laid there, still as a corpse, the distorted speech coming from his speakers still too soft to properly make out.
“Vox?” Angel asked cautiously, taking a step into the room. He heard something crinkle under his foot. Looking down, Angel felt his stomach somersault as Valentino grinned back up at him from the crumpled magazine clipping. Angel recoiled, swearing under his breath, as he tore his eyes away from the ad and was forced to take in the rest of the room.
Items strewn across the ground— disassembled pieces of technology, stolen trinkets from around the hotel, Niffty’s weird attempts at “gifts”— a wall of ad clippings, half of which featured Velvette and Valentino… An unnamed feeling rose sharp and fast in Angel’s throat, mixing with the horror in a way that made him want to flee the room and never have to see it again. But before Angel could act on that impulse, his attention was brought back to the noise emanating from Vox’s speakers.
Faint as they may be, Angel knew those voices.
“Vox,” Angel repeated, picking his way towards him across the minefield of the floor. “Wake up. You’re–” You’re what? Dreaming? Fine? That was a fucking lie if Angel’d ever heard one.
Vox remained still as a statue as Angel approached the bed, the only sign of life being the high-pitched hum of his staticked-out screen. Angel glanced desperately between the terminal and Vox. How the fuck did you wake Vox up? Would unplugging him help or would it just cause a new problem? Angel was trying to decide what to do when suddenly, his attention snapped back onto the audio– the memory– coming out of Vox.
From a distance, the recording had been too soft and distorted to make out anything in particular, but here? Six feet away from the source? He could hear everything.
Noises somewhere between a dying dog and a severely malfunctioning computer. Pitiful whines, strangled groans, and a strange sound like the wind through the trees. And Alastor’s voice, airy and crooning, cutting through it all.
“There, there, we’re almost done. No need to be scared, I’m right here. Just breathe– there we go, that’s right. You’re doing so well.”
Panic spiked. That was– no no no no no NO.
“Vox! Vox! Wake up! Wake up, now!” Angel was shouting now, but to no avail. He wasn’t supposed to– no, he couldn’t hear this right now. He wheeled about, frantic, trying to think of something he could do to make those sounds stop. In his panic, he seized the nearest object– a large hunk of metal something-or-other– and threw it at Vox on his bed.
Vox jolted awake as the disassembled item made contact with his torso, yanking his power cords out of the terminal in his alarm. “Whzz- What? Wher-er-er-er-er–”
“Breakfast.” Angel spat, turning away from the glitching ex-Overlord and stalking out of the room– teeth gritted, eyes wide, nails digging into his arms.
He’d heard Vox make those sounds once before, and he’d never wanted to hear them again. Angel had never considered what else had been going on during that broadcast that the mics didn't hear.
#angel dust (ram)#vox (ram)#randomly accessed memories#dark#anonymous#writing#hazbin hotel#vox#angel dust#vox hazbin hotel#angel dust hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel vox#hazbin hotel angel dust
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My dash is like. Memes. Gore and blood. A TikTok featuring the cutest animal you will see this week (instant reblog). Memes. Mutuals posting how they made a friend with a bug outside today. Pretty boys and pretty girls. Gore and blood, this time from the war. Someone thirst posting so hard they need an IV. Vampires. More war posting. Wonderful art. Severed torso. Politics. A boot on someone’s neck in a sexy way. Just a boot on someone’s neck in a normal way. Beautiful nature shot. Memes. Gore and blood. A poem. More war. Affirmation posts how it’s all gonna be okay. Just war. Someone’s knife collection. More vampires.
#I do not and will not filter Ukraine but sometimes I wish I didn’t see war and destruction all the damn time for more than a year now every#day#it fucks you up even on a distance it fucks you up you’re never the same#the algorithm recommends it to me by default so I scroll through suggested posts and it’s like funny TikToks and then pictures of my country#destroyed#my country destroyed
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𝝑𝑒 SYNOPSIS. sukuna is shameless—not caring if anyone were to ever catch him righteously claiming ownership over his favorite concubine in the garden.
wc. 1.5k-ish
tags. true form!sukuna x concubine!female reader. smut, pwp. exhibitionism. size difference. dumbification \\ objectification. has two c.ocks. hair pulling. use of spit (yeah ik i wouldnt write for it but its sukuna). breeding themes. overstimulation. reader gets called ‘little girl, slut’. sukuna’s a menace and loves to create drama between his concubines
“shut up. i don’t care if they’re here or not,” sukuna grunts, tightening his grip on your fleshy thighs as his lower cock slams in and out your sloppy cunt without much thought. the sound of pruning shears cutting off branches is easily overwhelmed by the lewd noises of skin slapping against skin.
you feel sorry for those servants who’re just doing their job tending to the garden. none of them dare to look your way. they’re sweating, eyes solely focused on the branches they’re cutting, acting like they are not hearing the sinful moans and grunts in the distance. if they look, they’re dead. that much is known.
everything is blurry to you. all you can manage to do is let out a string of pleasure filled whines. your body is easily overpowered and held up against the harsh wood of the nearby wall. your thighs are spread in an awfully painful way, your knees up to your chest. quite literally folded in half.
“i said eyes on me, y’ fuckin’ slut,” sukuna barks. he does not have the patience today. you breaking the intense eye contact with him only worsens his mood. one of his veiny hands tug at your hair. the others hold you up—not allowing you to even think of getting back on your feet until your tight cunt is done milking him for what he’s worth.
you gasp and sukuna takes the chance to grab your jaw with yet another free hand. “open y’r mouth,” his hips do not still for even a second. they roll and ground against yours, the surrounding skin near his pelvis stained with your wet juices. he could smell it. just as nasty and dirty as he wants it to be.
you part your lips and keep them like that, not wanting to piss sukuna off even more. he grins at the sight of your red tongue instinctively rolling out like the obedient little girl you are. he spits right into your mouth, “swallow.”
you do so without second thought. the warm liquid trickles down your throat. sukuna watches in satisfaction, drilling into you until your insides are complete mush. you’re drooling over yourself already—clearly having lost control over your rationality.
you sniffle and try to hold onto sukuna’s biceps. your small fingers curl around the shape of them, nails digging into his flesh. every time you think sukuna’s finally letting up, he only increases his inhuman pace. “my l-lord, ‘s too much,” you cry out. your body could only handle so much pleasure before it’d break down. your pussy is convulsing around his girthy cock, feeling his other sliding back and forth over your sensitive clit.
the king of curses shuts you up with a hiss. his bottom set of eyes is focused on the impressive scene of your tiny pussy swallowing his cock so easily. he’s feeling proud of the fact that he’s molded you into the perfect concubine for him and his carnal pleasure.
sukuna has fucked you silly enough times to know how to get you under his spell. his fingers brush over your hard nipples, grabbing the squishy flesh of your tits as they bounce with each of his thrusts. he leans his head down towards yours. his rough, raspy voice makes your body heat up, “no, no. it’s never too much for my little girl, right? she can easily take ‘nother load f’me.”
your breath hitches and sukuna realises it worked. he knows just what to say to manipulate you into giving in. so he can fuck you senseless for how long he wants. you’re a sucker for the fact that he calls you his. that’s what you are—you’re his woman. only his and no one else’s. the claim of ownership makes your pussy clench.
“y-yes, my lord. i can take another, i can,” you breathe out, head swaying from side to side, not mentally able anymore to keep up with sukuna’s intense libido. yet, your body is still active, squeezing around sukuna’s dick as he promised you more of his precious cum.
the king of curses snickers, amused by just how fast you gave in. “that’s what i thought, hah,” he’s realised that his hold on you knows no bounds. you’re his little toy. the only one he wants to ravish these days. and the only one worth of carrying his seed.
you’re still thinking about the way he’s called you ‘his little girl’. it’s driving you closer to the edge. you start to get louder, completely ignoring your inner thoughts that begged you to have some decorum; to try and hide the fact that you’re getting slutted out in the courtyard.
there’s not much hiding it anyway since the servants have a clear understanding of what’s going on behind them. “mghh, please—please need more!” you mewl and sukuna listens. his red eyes darken with desire as you get into it. he loves to experience that lust driven side of yours. a complete opposite to your usual formal and shy self.
“louder, c’mon. let them know i’m fucking you good,” sukuna sneers, enjoying the mind games he is playing with you. you’re too cockdrunk to even notice. the them in his sentence refers to his other concubines. he knows that you’re secretly craving to get revenge on them and show them just how well you get dicked down by him every single day.
unlike them, who rarely get graced by his touch. that is, when you’re unavailable.
you do as told and increase the volume of your erotic moans, letting everyone around the estate know what you’re getting up to. not like anyone could interfere. sukuna wouldn’t dare let them live a second after.
“that’s it, yeah,” the sorcerer grunts and rams his length repeatedly into you, cursing at the way you’re gripping him so tightly. you’re so dripping wet that he slips out of you for a second. he moves his hips, angling them better to slam back inside of you.
however, you’re one step ahead. your shaky hand reaches down between your legs and you quickly guide his tip to your entrance, urging him to push between your moist folds again. “nasty fuckin’ girl,” sukuna scoffs at your desperation, though secretly thrives off it. he switches cocks and shoves the upper one into your cunt.
you gasp. you’re so used to him to the point that you could sense the difference between his dicks. the upper one has more veins and is a tad bit girthier. you hiccup and nearly choke on your own moans and spit from the change of pace and dicks. “ngh, ‘tis so deep, my lord—” you whine loudly and your hands move to hold your breasts, stopping them from painfully jiggling around in every direction.
sukuna hums in content as he continues his rough thrusts. he can feel his balls twitch and clench, ready to shoot his sperm all up in your womb like you deserve. though, he doesn’t want to end this moment too quickly. he wants to extend it.
“c’mere,” sukuna grumbles and stops pounding your poor, aching cunt. he stills his dick inside you and allows you to cling onto his tall stature, lifting you away from the wall. he silently urges you to wrap your legs around his waist so he could carry you.
the robes of your kimono get left behind on the patch of grass near the wall of the main house. there’s a few droplets of white liquid that’s stained the grass, right where sukuna and you were standing at seconds ago.
you don’t think about anything anymore as you babble about how full you felt with his cock all the way in you. the fat tip brushes against your cervix with each step sukuna takes towards his next destination.
“keep talkin’ to me, doll. tell me how good it feels to take my cock,” he grins smugly as he carries your little body like a trophy into the main building—not paying mind to any maids who he passes by. they’re shocked by the sight of their lady in such a state, though are only able to bow at the two of you.
sukuna finally stops in front of the dinner table. the same table you always have dinner at with him and his other women. he places your back against the surface, big hands holding you down by your hips. “there we go,” he coos mockingly, seeing how you’re completely fucked out, yet still needing more of him.
the king of curses has his own twisted reasons of bringing you here. looking outside of the window, you notice how the sun is starting to set. that’s also the moment you realise his hidden motive.
the other concubines will sooner or later gather at the dining hall to eat supper. they’d expect a peaceful meal, though instead, they’ll be greeted by the sight of their dear lord screwing his favorite. it’ll be a painful blow to them.
which is exactly what the ruthless man wants to achieve.
sukuna licks his lips and all of his eyes focus on you solely, “gonna enjoy my dinner a bit earlier t’day, yeah?”
CR. STTORU 2024
#sttoru writes.#jjk smut#jjk x reader#sukuna smut#sukuna x reader#jjk x you#sukuna x you#jjk x y/n#sukuna x y/n
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Everybody knows that i’m a good girl, officers
—in which getting caught stealing with your boyfriend leads to three handsome officers fucking you down at the station.
pairing: officers! gojo s, choso k, nanami k. x fem! reader
cw: smut, face fucking, hair pulling, filming, praise, size difference, belly bulge, fingering.. etc
Your heart raced as you and Toji were stopped in your tracks by a cop car. Attempting to turn around only to be stopped by another swerving in front of you. “Shit. T-Toji? What do we do?”
Watching as a tall, broad officer emerged from the vehicle’s front seat, gulping hard when the blond one’s dark eyes met yours. His face stonic as he stood with his hands in his pockets, letting out a small breath when he looked you up and down.
“Toji?” Turning your head to see your boyfriend long gone, having jumped hurriedly over the hood of the car before sprinting away with the stolen money. You whimpered to yourself, backing up when he began to stalk towards you. Yelping as your back hit a broad chest, arms situating themselves around your waist to steady you. “Careful sweetheart.”
Glancing up through your lashes to see a white haired man looking down at you with a smirk, his eyebrow raised in surprise. “Now what’s a pretty little thing like you stealing for?” he hummed.
And you only looked at your feet after noticing a black haired officer speaking into his walkie talkie about a thief on the loose. Giving a detailed description of your boyfriend. The hold on your waist tightened, and you were flipped around to look up at.. a black blindfold? An idea running through your head to knee him and make a run for it.
“Don’t even think about it. I can still see you.” watching as your eyes welled with tears, your hands gripping at the hem if your shirt. “P-please don’t arrest me. I promise i’ll never do it again.” you pleaded innocently.
The man scoffed, his hand reaching up for your face, his slender fingers digging into your cheeks, “Then tell me, what’re you doing stealing huh?”
“Gojo that’s enough.” A deep voice demanded. Gojo letting go of you with the roll of his eyes. Your body immediately putting some distance between the two of you. Only to be met with the sight of the same blond officer finally making his move. His face void of emotion as his muscles bulged through his shirt. The veins on his hand extra visible when he gripped something on his belt.
Your eyes widened when he pulled out a pair of handcuffs, tilting his head down at you with his tone serious. “You can either cooperate, or i arrest you and bring you down to the station. Your pick.”
The third officer walked up to your shivering form before you could speak. Your body being sandwiched between the two towering men.
“Nanami sir, the male that was with her has been arrested. Although he was able to knock down three of our m-“ He stuttered when he caught sight of you, your glassy eyes practically begging him to tell his friends to let you go. “Uhm- our men sir.” He finished with the clear of his throat.
“Thanks Kamo.” Nanami nodded, looking back to you with a hard stare. “Look, kid. I don’t have all day. We already have your little boyfriend and we can easily take you.”
“Not a kid..” you mumbled. Rough hands making their way to your chin, “You’re really taking us for fools aren’t ya? Take her down to the station.” Nanami commanded, throwing the handcuffs to Choso before he was walking away, getting into the vehicle and driving off.
“Should have just been a good girl and answered me.” Gojo laughed, pushing you over to Choso who did as he was taught, pressing you onto the side of the police vehicle before cuffing your first wrist. Your body twisting and turning making him groan, feeling his dick growing hard in his pants.
“W-wait! I’m sorry! I promise i’m a good girl— not a bad guy. Just please don’t arrest me.” you begged, hearing the click of the cuffs on your second wrist before you were being pushed into the back seat. Gojo looking at you through the rearview mirror. “It’s a bit too late for that don’t you think?” Allowing Choso to sit in the vehicle before speeding off. Some officer.
The whole ride was filled with your tiny sniffles as you asked to be let go in all different ways. Each one being met by a stern no which had you letting out a whine.
“You do a whole lotta talking for my liking.” Gojo sighed, “Makes me wanna fill your mouth with my cock to shut you up.” Smirking when that made you stop with panicked eyes.
When you arrived at the station. You were pulled through a hallway and past a room where you saw Toji. Anger on his face as he attempted to get up, scowling at the snickering officer when he was stopped by two pairs of handcuffs.
You were brought into another room, seeing Nanami already sitting there going through your file, his head turning to you, Gojo and Choso when he heard the slam of the door. “She’s still quiet i see.”
“She actually started talking, told her i’d make her suck my dick if she didn’t stop.” Gojo grinned, Nanami shaking his head as you were brought to sit in front of him. Gojo at your side and Choso leaned against the door.
“So.” The man started, clasping his hands on the desk with a sigh. “I see this isn’t your first time being arrested. Mind telling me why?”
You looked down at the glass top with a shrug, “i don’t know.”
Nanami motioned to Choso and Gojo with a nod. Choso closing the blinds of the stretch of glass connecting the room to the hallway. While Gojo pulled you up effortlessly, taking your place on the chair with you in his lap.
“Let’s try this again, mind telling me why?” You chewed at your lip, ignoring Gojo’s hot breath on your neck. “I did drugs, i drove while drunk when i was 15, i’ve shoplifted many times.” You listed shyly, watching as Nanami nodded along to your words.
“Nnh- ahh” you mewled when two fingers squeezed at your clit through your skirt, your thighs clenching as you shifted on the man’s lap. “God, I could do this all day.” Gojo whispered.
Nanami closed your file and slid it to the side, standing up and making his way in front of you. Stroking his thumb on your lip, “You’re really making things worse for yourself. Want to know what these records show?” He started, your eyes fixated on his body as he unbuttoned the top buttons on his shirt.
“They show that you’ve never done anything wrong.” His thumb slipping past your lips, “Show that you’re just a naive soul who covered for her friends and boyfriend on multiple occasions.” Looking up at his eyes through your lashes. “Show that you’re a good girl who trusts too easily.” He finished, watching you whimper underneath Gojo’s touch on your clit as you sucked lightly at his thumb. Your eyes closing with a hum.
“Do you think you’re a good girl baby?”
You nodded, “A very good girl, officer.” you muffled out past his finger, the eye contact never breaking until Gojo spoke. “I think she deserves an apology, doesn’t she?”
Nanami hummed a small yes, removing his finger from your lips and replacing it with his mouth instead. Kissing you softly as his hand reached up to wrap around your neck. Keeping your head steady as you moaned into him, tongues lewdy curling around each other.
Gojo grinned widely. “The fun’s finally getting started.” His eyes falling on Choso who stood red faced in the corner, his dick noticeably hard in his pants as Gojo ushered him over. “Kamo come here.”
Your mind felt fuzzy, wetness pooling between your legs as the large hand around your neck tightened at the sides. Letting out another moan when Gojo’s hand slipped under your skirt, running his fingers along your puffy folds through your panties.
“She’s soaked already.” he announced, chuckling when you mewled at the announcement, your face beginning to heat up.
“And don’t worry that pretty little head about that boyfriend of yours. You’re not the only one he’s been-“
“Gojo..” Nanami warned, his lips still moving against yours. Your heart tightened, eyes threatening to well up with tears as your suspicions were confirmed. Choso’s hand stroked your hair, “Don’t worry about that kay? Just focus on us.”
Gojo’s fingers began rubbing small circles on your clit, tearing your panties off of you when it began getting in his way. Nanami pulled away from your lips with a small smirk, sinking down to his knees in front of you.
Placing your legs onto his shoulders before bringing his face to your dripping cunt. “Make as much noise as you’s like. No one can hear us.”
His tongue darted out to lick a long stripe up your slit. A soft moan escaped your lips when he licked another. “Tastes like fucking heaven.” Gradually increasing his pace until he was lapping at your juices, his skilled tongue feasting on your wetness while Gojo kept up his pace in your swollen clit.
Your head fell back with a mewl, bringing your hands to the blond’s hair but stopped by the metal around your skin. You whimpered, “C-cuffs.”
Gojo groaned into your neck, grinding his clothed cock up into your ass. “Nah, like you better with them on.”
You moaned, back arching against Gojo when Nanami inserted two of his thick fingers into you. Curling them in and out directly onto your spot, your mouth hanging open in a string of cries when he began fucking them into your tightness.
Your noises were cut short by an angry red tip tapping your lips, Choso lightly taking hold of your head to help you sit up. His cock nestled between your parted lips waiting for you to take him in.
“Atta boy.” Gojo mused, watching as Choso pushed his cock further past your lips, a soft gag leaving your throat as he allowed you to adjust to his length. Only half of his cock being able to fit in your snug mouth. Choso moaned, your tongue swirling around his pre cum tip as you suckled on the mushroom head. Beginning to bob your head up and down without the use of your hands to keep you steady, your tongue licking along his vein each time you came back up.
A mewl sounded at the back of your tongue, the noise sending vibrations through Choso’s cock.
Your back arched as a coil built up in your stomach, your trembling legs being held apart by strong hands as your toes curled. Your hips jerking back and forth on Gojo’s lap as the pads of Nanami’s fingers pressed into your g spot. Him holding them in position by simply moving his fingertips on and off.
You cried out loudly around the cock in your mouth, drool running past your swollen lips and down your chin, Gojo leaning to lick it off your skin. “Nnhmf—“ you muffled, your eyes closing as you neared the edge. “ ‘mf closhe.”
The three men watched as your breathing sped up, unable to focus when Choso grabbed hold of your hair and manually fucked his cock down your throat. Careful enough to not hurt you.
You whimpered once more with a choked cry, your body spasming uncontrollably as you squirted onto the blond’s chin. Him groaning into you as he lapped it all up, locking his grip on your thighs when you tried to close your legs around his head.
“Oh hoho, look at her.” Gojo teased, “Can’t stop squirming, think we’re overstiming her. Are we, sweet thing?”
You nodded tearfully, Gojo kissing and biting at your neck while you sucked Choso off. His eyes met Nanami’s, both the men releasing you at the same time making you let out a shaky breath.
“We’re not done with you yet.”
Choso moaned as he neared his release, his abs tensing under his shirt and his cock twitching on your tongue. His head falling back with a loud groan before he was pulling out, fisting his cock roughly then cumming all over your pretty face. The sticky substance falling onto your now exposed chest thanks to Gojo.
Choso’s body quivered lightly as he finished spilling, his face quickly turning red again when he straightened his head to find both his colleagues smirking at him.
Gojo grinned, “Great, my turn.” standing up with you against him, kicking back the chair before bending you over, ready to line his aching cock up with your sopping pussy.
You whimpered when he roughly spread your legs with his knee, your hands still cuffed securely behind your back as your face met cold glass.
Gojo cursed as he eased himself into you. “So fucking tight, shit.” he groaned, fucking sloppily into your pussy with no mercy. His painfully hard cock begging for a release ever since he sat you on his lap.
Gojo’s hand reached up in your hair, pulling you up against him as he slammed into you. Your back arching against his chest with a loud mewl. Gojo watched as your ass bounced with each hit of his hips, your head thrown back onto his chest as you filled the room with high pitched moans.
Your pussy clenched when he brought his hand to your tits, fumbling and groping at the soft flesh before twisting your nipples between your fingers. Pulling out a cry from you at the sensation. Gojo’s pace never slowed its abuse to your tightness. Bullying his cock deeper inside you with a string of grunts.
The sound of skin on skin filled the room, your loud cries mixed with Gojo’s grunts as he tugged at both your nipples and your hair. You could feel his tip grazing into your walls with each of his harsh thrusts onto your ass.
Your breaths getting heavy as you neared yet another orgasm. “Nn—nnhg, f-fuckk.”
“Language.”
You trembled with a scream of pleasure, clenching down on the white haired man’s cock as he breathed into your neck with deep throaty moans.
You let out whimper after whimper, your legs feeling like jelly as your knees buckled. “Hahhh— nng, close. Ah- ‘m close.” feeling the pressure on your gummy spot intensifying greatly. “A-ahh— nnh, cumming,” you mewled, lips parted in whiny noises as you came.
Gojo groaned, “Shit- clenching down so hard on me. Gonna break my fucking cock sweetheart.” his thrusts lacking any rhythm as he too neared his orgasm. “Come on, fuck, give it to me.” he rasped.
Your eyes rolling back as you gripped onto his shirt through your handcuffs. Your short moans matching his thrusts as your pussy gushed messily around him.
“That’s it.” he dragged out, slowing his thrusts until he was pulling out of your drenched cunt. Pushing you down onto your knees by your shoulders, “open.” Stroking his cock lightly when you obeyed and spilling onto your awaiting tongue while watching you swallow. “Good girl.” as he steadied his breathing. “She’s all yours,” he said to Nanami.
Your eyes moving behind the tall man to find Nanami sat on a chair with his cock in hand stroking to the sight. And Choso leaned onto the gray walls with his shirt in between his teeth as he did the same as Nanami.
“Come here.” Nanami husked. And you stood on shaky legs to waddle over to him. Your eyes widening at his massive cock, its girth the size of your wrist and its length the same as your forearm. Noticing your hesitation, Nanami chuckled. “Don’t worry. I’ll be gentle.”
His hands found their way onto your hips as he guided you over his lap. A scared whimper falling past your lips when he lined you up with his rock hardness.
“Look at me. You can take it okay? Just be a good girl and relax.”
You sucked in a deep breath and nodded, wincing loudly as he sunk you down onto his cock. Your pussy aching at the stretch to let him in. “Ahh-“ you cried, small tears escaping your eyes as he bottomed you down onto him. Feeling his tip poking against the skin of your stomach.
“Holy shit.” Gojo whistled, “She’s fucking bulging.”
You mewled, looking down to see the outline of Nanami’s tip in your belly. The large man simply glaring at his colleague who only smirked.
Large hands held onto your ass, whispering soothing praises into your ear as he helped you grind up and down with the rocking of your hips. You began moaning as the pain slowly subsided. Pleasure filling your veins as Nanami made you ride him faster bit by bit. Feeling the veins of his cock grazing your sensitive walls with each movement.
You let out a string of loud cries, your hips arching when Nanami landed a slap to your skin. “You’re a real good girl, you know that? Obeying the men of the law. You’re a perfect one.” He groaned.
Gojo sat on the table behind you, his camera zoomed into the stretch of your pussy from the back. Nanami unknowingly spreading your cheeks to give off an even better view.
Choso’s cock prodded at your lips, his precum smearing onto your lips.
“Kamo. Don’t wanna save that for her pussy?” Gojo questioned, Choso shaking his head no with a desperate moan. “Uh uh, love her mouth too much.” Your lips parting to suck him into your throat with a hum.
Choso groaned, thrusting lightly into your mouth, his length throbbing when your tongue suckled at his tip. Nanami quickened your pace of rutting on his cock. Your noises drowned out by the youngest officer’s cock.
Your pussy clenched impossibly tighter. Creamy white covering his cock from top to bottom. Your pussy creaming his length with your clit being stimulated by its rubbing on the region near his base.
Gojo made sure to capture it all. Choso fucking into your throat and you milking Nanami’s cock. With mic picking up Choso’s moans and Nanami’s deep grunts.
Your body trembled, body filled with heat as you came undone. Whimpers bubbling in your throat and your eyes rolling back. The sound of your cuffs shaking entering your ears when your fists gripped literal air.
“Come on.” Nanami groaned, “Cum for us.”
You let out a silent breathy cry, your pussy spraying its cream filled liquid onto the man’s thighs and pants.
Choso followed not too long after you, finding it in him to force you to take all of him into your mouth with a gag before pumping his cum straight down your throat. Some of his cum spilling messily at the sides of your lips when he removed himself from the warmth.
Nanami rolled you onto him a few more times, his cock twitching within the depths of your cunt before effortlessly lifting you off of him and settling you closer to his knees. Giving his large cock a wrist circling stroke before his cock was releasing spurts of cum into the air and onto your tits and stomach with a dragged out groan.
The three of you panted, Gojo setting down his phone after saving the video to his eyes only then walking over to you with a key to remove your handcuffs. You fell forward as your body went limp, your palms feeling Nanami’s hard chest under his work shirt as you stabilized yourself.
The white haired man pressed a short kiss to your head. “Did so well.”
After helping you get cleaned up, the trio walked you out of the room. A slight limp in your step as you were brought into the main room. There you spotted Toji, who practically charged towards you. Slapping Choso’s hand off your waist and pulling you into his side. “Don’t touch my girl.”
Choso only walked away before giving you a look. And you sucked in a deep breath before you spoke, “Toji-“
“Before you say what you have to say baby, they charged us for robbery.” Kissing you softly on the same spot Gojo did. “Got any money to get us out of this.”
Just as you were about to speak, a voice echoed through the room. “Y/n L/n? You’re free to go.”
You gave Toji a tight lipped smile while scratching at your arm. “Sorry Toji.. i don’t have any. And since i didn’t do anything wrong i don’t see why i should be kept either.”
Toji looked at you in disbelief. A smirk eventually gracing his face. “Didn’t think you had that in ya.” Watching as you were escorted out by a blond officer who didn’t even spare him a glance.
He would have to use his one call on one of his recent flings to pay the fine.
#jujutsu kaisen x reader smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen#jjk x reader#jjk smut#jjk#gojo smut#gojo x reader#gojo satoru#gojo satoru smut#choso smut#choso x reader#choso kamo#nanami smut#nanami kento#nanami x reader#gojo x reader smut#nanami kento smut#choso kamo smut
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TW: NSFW, noncon, yandere, stalking
gn reader
There’s something very off about your roommate… something eerie that makes you keep your distance.
You can’t describe exactly what it was about the boy except that you felt it from the second you shook his hand. The way he introduced himself… you don’t know… you had this unshakable feeling as though he already knew you from somewhere.
It’s a weird thought to have of someone you’d only just met. You knew you were probably just being paranoid. It was your first time sharing your space with someone other than family, so it might very well just have been you being apprehensive.
Not that you’d ever let it show, though. You didn’t want things between the two of you to be awkward when you’d be living together for the next three years of getting your degree.
You just needed to get used to him, is what you told yourself.
So you laughed at his jokes and listened to his brags with a polite smile as though nothing was wrong, even when he continued being strange.
For starters, he had almost nothing to unpack – as though he only planned to stay about a month or two. Everything seemed newly bought as well – unused and sterile, like a movie set.
You don’t know… maybe he was a minimalist even though he didn’t seem the type.
It shouldn't really have made your skin crawl the way it did. But whether it made sense or not, you couldn’t shake the discomfort – walking around in a constant wariness of him.
Everything about him seemed like a half-assed theatre act.
You’d see him in the lecture hall, walking from here to there, buying strawberry milk from the vending machines. His textbooks remained piled on his desk in your shared dorm room – but you’d never seen any one of them open. And when curiosity and suspicion made you flip up one of his notebooks, you found it was all blank except for a few shitty doodles on the first page. You never see him cram for exams or writing any papers. You don’t think you’ve ever even seen him pull a laptop out of his bag.
It’s like he isn't a student at all…
And something about the rest of his performance just rubs you the wrong way.
It’s as though he’s practiced all his facial expressions in the mirror – as though he’s studied social cues and body language in a human behavior manual instead of having learned them naturally. It makes you uneasy – how his smile is always a bit too wide and a bit too stiff to be genuine and how all his words are like dialogue off a script.
Somehow, it feels as though he’s wearing a second skin – hiding something… something that’s not quite right on the inside.
It grosses you out when he tries flirting with you. But you do your best to hide it. Brushing him off by changing the topic, inviting other friends when he asks to eat lunch together, laughing off his attempts as though he’s making jokes – always excusing yourself when you end up alone with him for too long.
You try to avoid him as much as you can. Pretending to study when you’re in the dorm together – and otherwise going to bed early.
He tells you he’ll see you at the party later when you leave to pregame with some friends. You can only muster a smile and a curt “Sure.” before leaving.
As for seeing each other later – you hope you don’t.
But of course you do. You can’t seem to escape him. Everywhere you go, he follows.
It doesn’t help that all your friends think he’s so hot, immediately calling him over, gushing over him as though he’s some type of celebrity. They don’t understand your reservation – if they were you, they’d have fucked him the first night of moving in together.
It’s not like you don’t find him attractive as well. You admit he is ridiculously handsome, and if the circumstances were different, you’d say you lucked out being assigned the same dorm room as him.
But as it were – he gives you the same feeling as spotting a spider.
He’s got his arm slung around your shoulder as the two of you walk back together.
He had a little bit too much to drink… And despite your thoughts about him, even you didn’t have the heart to say no when he was practically hanging off of you – cheeks dusted pink with his mothlike lashes droopy, drunkenly mumbling while blinking up at you with those awfully bright eyes, asking you to take him home and tuck him in.
“Ugh...” You sigh.
It’s a struggle carrying the nearly two-meter-tall boy, almost having to drag him down the hallway before stopping short at your door. He’s drooling on your shoulder with murmurs of sleep as you search for the key – not exactly sober yourself.
When inside, his bigger body presses you against the closed door – his face buried in the grove of your neck with slurred words.
“Dude.” You state with a grimace – as if saying his name was too much of a burden – sighing as you haul him off with the same exasperation of a parent putting an unruly child to bed.
Ducking beneath his arm, you leave him kissing the door – thinking to yourself how you really should put him to bed before he can embarrass himself any further.
You open your mouth to tell him when his temper finally makes him grab your arm a little harder than intended.
“This isn't how this is supposed to go.”
You flinch instinctively, and his grip tightens in return. “Hey?”
You can’t see his face with the way he’s got his head bowed. But you don’t like the snuff growl that passes under his breath as he utters the next words.
“Why are you so difficult?”
You do more than flinch this time, yanking yourself out of his harsh grip before he can apologize for it – taking on a deliberate offensive stance.
With your feet squared and your hands up to keep him at a distance, you look ready to try fending him off.
Something about it seems premeditated – something in the wary way you eye him. You don’t even look all that surprised – as if you had suspected this side of him existed all along and had only been waiting for it to surface.
Oddly, t feels like something you’ve kept secret from him – as though you’ve acted comfortable all this time when, in reality, you’ve been clutching your mental pearls.
He realizes then why you haven’t returned his affection – why all you’ve ever given him is cold-hearted rejection…
Of course. It’s obvious now – so obvious it’s funny. Even though he’s been the one parading around like someone else, it feels as though you’ve been doing the exact same thing around him – hiding your discomfort behind a sweet smile – hiding it so well that not even his keen eyes have picked up on it…
But it’s clear now….
You’ve both been playing a game of pretend – just a pair of perfect strangers – who've now shared their hand. Leaving you both feeling naked – raw out in the cold – just waiting for the next move.
“I guess the gig is up, huh?” He rasps, fingers twitching at his sides – looking ready to pounce.
You couldn’t defend why you'd kept the pepper spray in the drawer of your nightstand – but you were glad you had. Rushing for it, hands shaking as you pulled the handle and grabbed the bottle – twisting around and spraying it right in the face of your roommate.
He cries out from the attack, clutching his face with both hands – staggering back with a series of gruff curse words.
Still, he guards the door – preventing your escape.
The groaning turns to croaks instead, and you think he might be crying. It’s tough to see through the hands covering his eyes – but when he looks back up again, despite the red burns left by your pepper spray on his puffy teary cheeks, he’s got a smile on his face.
He’s not crying – he’s laughing – as the hand covering his face slowly drags down the crazed expression – over crazed eyes, bloodshot and wet, staring at you through the gaps between his fingers.
The look alone is enough to give you goosebumps.
But when you try to make a run for it, he grabs you again – and this time, you’re not able to shake him off. It feels as though the tight grip splinters your skin as he pulls you back – shoving you down against your bed.
“Can’t say it hasn’t been fun, roomie. But I’m not completely satisfied yet.”
He’s on top of you before you get a kick in – pinning your wrists above your head as he leans over you – bright eyes gleaming with that sickness you’d almost convinced yourself you’d been imagining. You opt to shout, but he’s soon got his other hand clasped tight over the bottom half of your face before you get a sound out.
“You were supposed to fall in love with me, you know?” His voice is airy as though he’s confessing – but also on the brink of laughter as though he’s telling a joke in class. “That’s how it goes in the movies.”
You swallow beneath his hand – eyes peeled, heart beating so hard it hurts.
His eyes wander – roaming your neck and chest. It’s awfully quiet before he speaks again. “But I suppose we can act out a different plot line...”
You whimper at his suggestive tone – already feeling the weight of his intentions bearing down on you, crushing you free of air.
“I like romcoms, but horror stories have their charm, too...”
You shudder beneath the warmth of his breath, screaming into his palm once his warm lips mouth your throat, sucking on the tender skin with tongue and teeth in between words.
“An unfortunate college student finds themself moving into the same dorm as their unhinged stalker…”
There’s a thrill in his tone – something crazed and terrifying as he goes on.
“The two play a psychological game of endurance, trying to balance college and privacy while sharing the same space...”
Something hard and gross steadily ruts against your thigh. His voice gets thicker – breath hotter on your neck. The kisses turn sloppy. Tears burn your cheeks.
“Everything seems to lead up to a party held before Spring break, a fateful night on which their endurance finally runs out.”
He groans, and you sob.
“A rejected kiss, a can of pepper spray, a shared bed. What happens next?”
JJK – Gojo, Yuta, Mahito
BNHA – Hawks, Denki, Kirishima
HQ – Miya twins
CSM – Yoshida
BLLK - Nagi
#yandere x reader#yandere#yandere x you#yandere imagines#yandere smut#yancore#smut#yandere my hero academia#yandere boku no hero academia#boku no hero academia smut#mha smut#yandere mha#yandere bnha#my hero smut#my hero academia smut#bnha smut#yandere jujutsu kaisen#yandere jjk#jujutsu kaisen smut#jjk smut
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a bet's a bet
rafe participates in no nut november
words: 1.9k
warnings: 18+ only, smut, female masturbation (with toys), p in v sex, unprotected sex
taglist: @drewstarkeysbae @thelomlisrafecameron @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @slut4drudy @drewsbabygirll @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @jjmaybankisbae @seeingstarks @angelofcigs
nov. 1
“this is the stupidest thing i’ve ever heard.” you cross your arms over your chest, but your boyfriend doesn’t give in, remaining steadfast.
“i already agreed to the bet, baby. you can’t change my mind.” rafe simply says, focusing on looking out the window instead of at you, avoiding your glare.
“i have needs too rafe! i can’t believe you’d agree to this without talking to me first.” you stand up from the couch, tired of this conversation. you grab your laptop and head up to your shared bedroom.
if rafe was going to make a stupid bet to not cum for the entire month of november, then you are at least going to repurchase a vibrator and dildo that rafe threw away when you first started dating, claiming you’d never need them again.
you pay for rush shipping and use rafes credit card, because fuck him.
nov. 3
“come on, just eat my pussy.” you groan, legs spread wide open on the bed, trying to convince rafe to pleasure you, but he just shakes his head no.
“baby, if i eat you out, i’m going to fuck you too. i can’t cum and break the bet, it’s only november 3rd. it’s been three days, we can do this.”
you close your legs as rafe lays down in bed next to you. you shouldn’t even be particularly needy yet. it’s not like you haven’t gone this amount of time before without having sex, but knowing you can’t have him is torture.
you can’t imagine a world without rafes cock, you’ve gotten so used to being stretched out by him on the regular that an entire month without is giving you withdrawal symptoms, increasing your horniness to unbearable levels.
nov. 5
look what just arrived. you attach a picture of your opened package, pink dildo and vibrator sat inside the box.
rafe reads the message but doesn’t deem you a reply, too busy doing whatever with barry. you honestly doesn’t care as you cunt pulses, needing to feel something inside of it, knowing it won’t be anywhere near as satisfying as rafes cock, but it will do. for now.
you strip yourself free of clothing and lay down on the bed, not even needing to go into the hidden album on your phone of nudes rafe has sent you, or when he snatched your phone off the nightstand and videoed you getting fucked, you simply imagine rafe being there, being the one touching you.
you send snaps to rafe, hoping to entice him into coming home and giving you his cock, but when you send him a video of you coming on the dildo, he simply replies with good try princess.
nov. 6
“aren’t you jealous of my dildo?” you ask, purposely leaving it out on the bed, but rafe doesn’t say a word as he lays down for the night.
“of course i am. this is hell for me too, y/n, but a bet is bet.”
nov. 7
“they won’t even know. just fuck me, i need it.” you whine, rocking against the seat that you’re sat on, not even caring that you’re out on rafes boat, and anyone could see you, not when he’s shirtless, muscles gleaming in the sun, a slight sweat sheening his skin from the high temperature.
“i can’t lie, princess. besides, they’ll know.”
“please, i’m desperate.” you beg, sliding off the stool to sit next to rafe on the captains bench as he effortlessly steers the boat towards deeper water.
“sorry baby.” rafe just tsks.
“can we make out at least? you’ve barely kissed me at all this month.” it’s true, in an effort to keep himself from growing a boner and losing self control, rafe has kept all of your kisses brief.
“fine, but keep your hands away.” rafe says, also missing your lips against his.
you were hoping you could press your body against his, at least get some relief, but rafe does make you keep your distance as your lips glide over his.
nov. 9
“i think this counts as girlfriend cruelty.” you cross your arms over your chest after another unsuccessful attempt at begging rafe to fuck you.
“i’ll make it up with a shopping spree.” rafe offers, and it’s not as good as his dick, but you still agree to it.
nov. 10
“does it feel as good as me?” rafe whispers in your ear, resisting the urge to reach down and help you out as you’re sat on the bed, fucking yourself with your new dildo as he tries to ignore the pulsating erection, forcing himself to think about things that turn him off, even as you’re laid out masturbating in front of him.
“fuck no it doesn’t.” you grunt, desperate for an orgasm even though you hate doing it solo, especially when rafe is right there, able to help. “which is why you should give up on this stupid bet and fuck me. need your cock, baby, i miss it.”
“sorry.” rafe kisses your cheek, but still watches you in fascination as you cum.
nov. 12
“miss you.” you tell rafe, snuggling into his side as his arms are wrapped around you, keeping you tight to his body as you cuddle, having just enjoyed a lazy day together.
“miss you too baby.” rafe kisses the top of your head, letting his hands touch your, rub over your back, but never venturing into dangerous territory.
“want you so bad.” you complain. you don’t mean to ruin the sweet moment, but you really are beyond desperate for rafe.
“18 more days, we can do it.” rafe says, but you’re really not sure that you can.
nov. 13
“maybe i’ll go sleep with topper.” you say, hands on your hips, finally getting rafes attention as his head snaps up.
“fuck you will not.” he grunts.
“well, this bet is between you topper and kelce, right? maybe i’ll just go make them cum and then you can finally fuck me. i would also get some new dick out of it.”
“you’re being a brat.” rafe says, knowing they’re idle threats, there’s no way you’d ever cheat on rafe, you just want to get him to break.
“well what are you going to do?” you taunt. “it’s not like you can punish me.”
rafe just smirks.
nov. 15
“what are you working on?” you ask rafe, placing your hands on his shoulders as he types away on his laptop. you bend down and give him a kiss on the cheek as he hums about whatever project he’s doing. you rub your hands over his shoulders, mumbling something about tension and working too much.
you let your hands move forward against his chest, and then lower and lower, until rafe is pushing your hand away from his crotch.
“come on, please.” you pout.
“you’re halfway there, baby. we can do this. a little bit longer and i’ll make you cum every day in december.”
“multiple times a day, i think i’ve earned it.” you argue back.
nov. 16
you’ve had it. you’re sitting watching rafe work out, pussy dripping into you’re underwear, and you’re done with the games and the stupid bet, you’re getting your boyfriend to fuck you today.
you leave the home gym, rafe asking you where you’re going as he lifts the weight, but you ignore him. you head into your bedroom, changing into rafes favorite pair of lingerie and a tall pair of heels that still don’t cause you to reach his height.
you walk back down the stairs, heels clicking on the hardwood floor as you reenter the gym.
“fuck, baby, don’t do this to me.” rafe drops his head into his hands, physically unable to look at you.
“no. fuck this bet. it’s so stupid, rafe, i’m about to explode. i need you to fuck me. i don’t care what you lose.”
“fine.” rafe says, and you think you misheard him at first.
“what?” you question.
“get the fuck over here before i change my mind, god i need you.” rafe stands, meeting you halfway as your bodies clash, lips pressed hard against each others as you paw at rafes clothes, needing to see him in all his naked glory.
you don’t even care that he’s sweaty from the gym, or that he’s lowering you onto the tiled floor instead of your bed. you’re not going to take the time to move even a foot.
“take your shorts off, fuck.” you groan, hands slipping as you try to push them down his hips.
rafe pauses his assault on your mouth to push his shoulders and underwear down, his hard cock springing free, tip already leaking with his balls hanging heavy down, filled with need from going without an orgasm for so long.
you pull your underwear to the side, revealing your soaked cunt. all it took was rafe agreeing to have sex that you got a rush of wetness.
rafe doesn’t waste time fingering you to open you up. you’ve been consistent enough with your dildo that it doesn’t hurt at all as he slides in, his warmth pressing against your walls as rafe groans, eyes fluttering shut as he cums before he even gives you one thrust, spurting into your pussy.
it’s too quick for you, but you still moan, clit pulsing as you finally get your boyfriend inside of you again.
“fuck, forgot how fucking tight you are.” rafe moans, and despite just cumming, he begins to snap his hips again already, fucking the cum further into you.
you reach down with one hand to rub your clit, pulling your boobs out of your bra with the other, letting them bounce with every hard thrust rafe delivers, not going easy on you despite it being 16 full days since you last had him.
“never doing no nut november again.” rafe promises you, pressing your lips back together in a searing kiss as you wrap your free arm around his shoulder and pulling him into you, his chest pressing against your sensitive nipples.
“i love your cock so much.” you moan, knowing when this is over you are going right upstairs and throwing that dildo away again.
“cum for me baby.” rafe begs, already feeling a second orgasm build, somehow having more cum to give you.
“yes, rafe!” you shout, back arching up off the floor as you cum, rubbing your clit to completion as rafe finishes inside you again, the excess of cum spilling out even as he keeps himself deep inside of you.
rafe collapses on top of you, twisting to the side so all your weight isn’t on him. he flinches when his bare skin hits the floor. “fuck, it’s cold.”
“it’s tile, dummy.” you giggle, causing rafe to groan when your pussy tightens. “take me upstairs, please.” you press your lips to rafe.
“i need a little bit of a break, baby.” rafe says, and you can tell from the way his cock is steadily softening inside of you.
“nope, you can eat me out until you’re ready to go again. i absolutely deserve this.”
rafe laughs softly, “okay, you do.”
nov. 17
“you didn’t tell me this is what you had to do if you lost!” you shout at rafe as he looks at himself in the mirror.
“would it have changed how crazy horny you were?” rafe asks.
“i mean- no.” you sigh. “but you could have told me! i probably could have made it 15 more days if you just fingered me or something!”
“do you wanna do it for me or do i have to do it myself?” rafe asks, causing you to snatch the clippers out of his hand.
“i’ll do it.” you run the blade over his head, watching as the gorgeous blond strands of hair fall off your boyfriends head, having to buzz it because he couldn’t resist fucking you for an entire month.
#tumblr has been glitchy with me today so if theres like layout errors im sorry#rafe smut#rafe cameron smut#obx smut#outer banks smut#rafe fic#rafe fanfic#rafe fanfiction#rafe x reader#rafe cameron fic#rafe cameron fanfic#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron one shot#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe imagine
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— lush
It’s no secret to Bakugou that his friends think you’re hot, but he’s never allowed them to act on it before. Until they catch him using a remote controlled vibrator on you—
Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x f!reader, implied Sero Hanta x f!reader, Kaminari Denki x f!reader, Kirishima Eijirou x f!reader.
Warnings: 18+, toys, Bakugou let’s the guys control your lush vibe, dub-con (consent isn’t explicitly stated so could potentially be seen as non-con), long distance, sexting, public setting, nudes, squirting, dirty talk, the guys talk pure filth about you.
Word Count: 3.6k.
Bakugou did not want to be here, and frankly he wouldn’t have turned up at all if it hadn’t been for you. Especially when he knew what was waiting at home for him— you kissed him at the door with a promise to wait up for him when he returned home. Knowing that you’d more than likely fall asleep on the couch by the time he stepped back into the apartment, having to scoop you up into his arms and walk you into your bedroom.
This night out for Sero’s birthday had been planned weeks in advance, and rather than unwinding with him after your long day at work you practically forced him into the shower— alone no less, and made him get ready for drinks at a popular bar in central Musutafu.
Taking a sip of his cold beer as his friends talked animatedly around him in the plush booth, catching up with each other after a few weeks apart. Gathering as Pro-Heroes wasn’t as easy as his days back at U.A. Conflicting work schedules meant that it became near impossible to find the same days, or even evenings off as each other. So this was something to be savoured. Or at least, that’s what you told him as you watched him get ready. Sitting on your shared bed wearing one of his old Dynamight agency shirts and a pair of shorts while he pulled a plain black shirt out of his closet to wear tonight.
Nothing had annoyed Bakugou more than leaving you alone in your apartment to be here, the taste of your gloss still lingering on his lips as he thought about being home with you instead.
You’d made it abundantly clear what your plans were going to be tonight, pulling the little pink toy he’d bought for you out of your magic drawer (as he called it) and settling yourself on your shared bed.
“You put that in I ain’t goin’ at all, sweetheart.” He groaned, leaning against the doorframe as you shook your head with a laugh.
“You’re going,” You reached up to squeeze his cheeks together into a pout, the rough stubble on his face tickling your fingers as you pulled him down into a kiss, “I just need something after the day I’ve had. I’m probably gonna take a bath and wait for you to get home.”
“Then I’m at least controlling that shit.” He growled, pulling his cellphone out of his jeans pocket, “Give me access now.”
Maybe he’d be able to have one more drink before excusing himself early so he could get home to you and sink himself into your warm, wet cunt.
And god, you would be so fucking wet. You’d be soaked from the way his thumb continued to absentmindedly draw patterns against his phone screen. The pink cursor ascended for a few moments before dragging it back down. Picturing how you looked right now with the little toy stuffed inside your pretty pussy as you writhed on top of tussled sheets all because of him.
You[8.59PM]: Kats, stop teasing and let me cum :(((
The notification banner signaled at the top of the screen, causing Bakugou to grin. He’d been teasing you for the last hour with the toy, knowing that the settings he was using weren’t quite enough to have you coming undone for him. But just enough to have you riled up and begging for more—
Bakugou[9.00PM]: You’re the one that wanted to play these games, sweetheart.
You[9.01PM]: Yeah, but I wanna cum :((
The words had Bakugou’s cock throbbing in his pants, pressing against the rough denim as he tried to mask a groan through a tickly cough. Pressing the back of his hand to his lips as he typed another response to you.
Bakugou[9.02PM]: I promise I’ll take good care of you when I get home, baby.
You[9.05PM]: Turn it up a little please, baby? I need it.
With that text you’d sent an attachment. He’d been hiding the screen of his phone beneath the table all evening to avoid any prying eyes or accusatory questions, but this made him shield the screen from any unsuspecting gazes. A photograph of you staring up into the camera with needy eyes, your glossy lips curled into a cute pout as you pulled your shirt— his shirt, above your chest as the fabric bunched together to reveal your perfect breasts.
God, you were so fucking perfect.
Bakugou decided to take pity on you, his fingers pulling the circle up the screen to increase the vibrations. His free hand reaching forward to grab his bottle as he downed the rest of its contents. Determined this would be his last drink before excusing himself to come home to you, not that he’d have to think of any particular reason.
“Work still trying to contact you, bro? It’s gone nine.” Sero asked, leaning his forearms against the table.
“You have been on the phone a lot, is everything okay?” Kirishima looked concerned.
“He’s probably texting his girlfriend,” Denki practically sang.
“Shut up, idiot. Everything’s fine.”
Slipping his phone back into his pocket as he stood from the booth, smoothing his hands down the black denim on his thighs as he made a beeline towards the bar.
“It’s your round yeah, Kats?” Kirishima called after him, the sound drowned out by the loud bustle of the bar as Bakugou leaned against it waiting to be served. He could feel his phone vibrating in his pocket, knowing that it was texts from you. But he didn’t want to unlock it to read them now, not when anyone could look over his shoulder and catch a glimpse at what was his.
Forgoing a tray as he held the neck of the beer bottles between his knuckles as he carried them back towards the booth to a cheer and raised arms from Denki. Sharing them out as he resumed his seat and wrapped a palm around the cold base of the bottle, distracted as he pulled his phone out to finally respond to you.
You[9.21PM]: I can’t cum with this, baby. It’s driving me crazy.
You[9.23PM]: You are the biggest tease I swear, Kats. My clit is throbbing :(((
Bakugou grinned as instead of responding to your messages, he left them on read. Opening the lush app as he went back to dragging his thumb across the screen, increasing the vibrations to give you some much needed relief. Except this time Sero was quick to notice the app on Bakugou’s phone screen, quick reflexes snatching the phone from his hands.
“Is this what I think it is?” Sero’s eyes sparkled with mischief as his mouth settled into a wide grin, “No wonder you’re talking to us even less than usual tonight, Bakubro.”
“Give it back, tapeface.” Bakugou practically snarled, reaching across the table to try and grab his phone back. Knocking his beer bottle over in the process, which Kirishima’s quick reflexes managed to save with minimal spillage, the head foaming up from the movement.
“What is that?” Denki asked with curiosity as he leaned over Sero’s shoulder to look at the screen.
“You guys ever seen this app before?” Sero turned it to face the table, the circle still sat in the middle of the screen. An indication of the consistent hum of vibrations pulsing through the toy for you right now.
“No, what does it do?” Kirishima tilted his head slightly, “Is it like a game?”
“It’s an app for a remote controlled vibrator,” Sero explained, “So unless it’s inside you right now, man—”
“Piss off.” Bakugou snarled, baring his teeth.
“Then I’m guessing it’s inside your girlfriend.” Sero surmised, turning the screen back to face him.
“Oh,” Kirishima’s lips parted in surprise, and Bakugou could see the cogs turning in his mind as his thoughts clearly went to what you looked like with this little toy stuffed inside your pussy.
“Wait” Denki’s brows were furrowed as though deep in thoyght, the cogs turning in his mind, “So that means she’s got it in right now?”
“Looks like it.” Sero held the phone in one hand as he used his pointer finger to drag the circle down to the bottom of the screen, stopping the vibrations completely, “How many times has she cum already?”
None of your fucking business, Bakugou thought to himself as he sneered across the table. But he hoped you hadn’t cum at all, wanting to return home and experience the luxury of you coming undone on his cock firsthand.
“Oh fuck, man.” Denki whined, “Your girlfriends so fucking hot. How did you get so lucky?”
“Maybe you should give that back, Sero.” Kirishima shuffled beside Bakugou, clearly intrigued with the conversation but he tried to ignore the dark, depraved thoughts that were running through his mind at this moment.
“Yeah, give it the fuck back.” Bakugou snarled, swiping for the phone again as Sero held it over his head and away from Bakugou’s reach.
You[9.30PM]: Baby, why’d you turn it off completely that’s so mean?
“Oh shit,” Sero read the text that came through from you, “Happy birthday to me.”
“Give me the fuckin’ phone,” Bakugou practically snarled, venom laced in his tone as he hoped you wouldn’t try and send another selfie.
“Come on, man. Five minutes,” Sero pleaded, offering the phone back to Bakugou as a peace offering, “It could be my birthday gift, you know?”
Having his friends fawn over you like this had a warped sense of power rolling over him. It was debauched, depraved and downright scummy but Bakugou found himself falling into the sovereignty.
Bakugou knew he should call you to let you know that he was surrendering control to the app to his friends, or at the very least send you a message to let you know. But deep down he knew it was something that you would probably enjoy, maybe a bit too much, if you knew. Often talking to him about uses for the toy, and whether he’d ever share access with it with his friends. The thought of going home to tell you who had been controlling it just to see the wide-eyed look on your face had his cock throbbing beneath his jeans in anticipation.
“Five fuckin’ minutes.”
“That’s the spirit, happy fucking birthday to me.” Sero grinned as he began to slide his finger against the screen, “You shoulda brought her with you, that woulda been the best gift.”
“You’d never be that fuckin’ lucky, tapeface.” Bakugou snorted, taking a sip of beer as Sero’s tongue poked out from between his lips in concentration. Swirling his finger along the screen with such precision, but Bakugou was certain he had no real clue what he was doing.
“A girl online gave me her code to one of these before,” He grinned across the booth, “Let me watch her on video while I did it too—”
“Don’t even think about it.” Bakugou would rather blow his phone up completely than let his friends see you on video.
“How do you even know she’s got it in right now?” Denki asked, “You could just be messing with a dead toy.”
“She sent a text begging me to turn it back on.” Sero grinned, “He’s probably the one that put it in her, lucky prick.”
Bakugou wished he was the one that positioned the toy inside you, although he definitely wouldn’t have made it to the bar if he had. There’s nothing in this world that could’ve torn him away from your pretty little cunt.
“Can you get her to send us a picture?” Denki continued, “Do you have pictures?”
Bakugou had multiple pictures, and videos, of you using the toy. It had originally been a way for him to help you climax whenever he was called away on long missions, a fun addition to the already steamy video calls you’d have at random hours. The time differences were often large as he’d find himself fisting his cock for you on camera at four in the morning, helping you to cum just before you were getting ready for bed.
“Shut up, asshole.” Bakugou growled.
There was no way he was going to show them a picture of you, especially how hot you looked right now. Remembering the photograph you’d sent him just as he made it to the bar, of you spread out against soft sheets as you gave the camera a sultry gaze. Man, he really was a fucking idiot coming out tonight and leaving you at home.
“Oh, he’s definitely got pictures,” Sero smirked, “Look at the look on his face. I bet she looks hot in them too—”
“Don’t you dare, you fuck.” Bakugou made a swipe for the phone, but Sero was quicker. Handing the cellphone off to Denki as he leaned forward to pick up his bottle of beer with a chuckle, taking a large swig from it as he leaned against Denki’s shoulder to watch his friend play with the app.
“Have you used this when she’s out in public?” Denki asked, looking across the booth at Bakugou while his finger criss-crossed over the screen with speed— probably torturing your poor pussy with the intense changes.
“No.” Bakugou answered curtly. Neither of you had really toyed with the device outside long distance, but it’s definitely something that you’d both talked about before. You’d even suggested he wear it one night, so he could feel exactly what it did to you for himself.
“Man, that’s so boring.” Denki pouted, “If she was my girlfriend I’d have her wearing it to the grocery store.”
“That’s because you don’t know how to make a girl cum by yourself.” Bakugou scoffed, taking another sip of his drink as Denki scrunched his nose in response.
“Yeah I do,” Denki turned the screen to face him, giving anyone in the bar who looked over a glimpse at the adult app on the phone in use right now, “In fact I’m gonna make your girl cum without even touching her.”
Bakugou hoped you weren’t coming right now, especially with how intense Denki had the vibrations. He knew you were already riled up and desperate, and this was exactly what you needed to have you tumbling over the edge. But he’d never live it down if Denki was the one to make you climax, he’d never hear the end of it.
“You should invite her next time, man. We could do this with her here.” Denki continued, his finger pausing on the screen while the dot was sat at its highest point. Indicating that the vibrations were on the most intense setting as Bakugou pictured you writhing against the sheets while the toy buzzed inside you. Picturing the creamy slick that drooled out of your hole at the sensation and stuck to your plush thighs. Wishing that he was there to clean you up instead of fantasizing about it. His cock jumped at the thought as he palmed himself subtly through his jeans while shifting in his seat.
God, he had to go home and bury himself inside you.
“Can I have a go?” Kirishima mumbled shyly, his cheeks glowing as red as his hair as he fisted his beer bottle nervously.
“Knock yourself out, man.” Denki held the cellphone out to Kirishima like it belonged to him, the dot still sat at the highest point on the screen.
What Bakugou hadn’t been expecting is the amount of teasing Kirishima was doing for you. His thumb barely moving the circle above the slowest setting, the low rumble of the toy inside you would’ve been barely enough for anyone and Bakugou knew it had to be driving you crazy right now.
You[9.40PM]: I told you to stop being a tease. I was about to cum. :(((
“Oh, she’s texting you.”
Kirishima showed him the screen as he read the text, and Bakugou had never been so happy that Kirishima had managed to seize control of his phone and the app before Denki had a chance to actually make you climax.
Breathing a sigh of relief as he grinned in satisfaction, certain he’d never hear the end of it (from you or Denki) if he’d managed to make you cum.
Kirishima was gentle and cautious as he continued playing with the app, barely letting the vibrations go above the middle of the screen. But thick fingers continued to make it constant, pushing down to wiggle the line every few seconds as he began to make almost swirling patterns against the device.
“Come on, man. Turn it up to the max.” Denki whined, his arms going across the table in a silent plea to get the phone back into his hands.
“So you can make her completely numb?” Sero scoffed, “You know she’d stop being able to feel anything with you.”
“She’d be able to feel a lot.” Denki grabbed at his crotch crudely as the men sat at the table began to laugh, even Bakugou snorted as he took a large swig of his beer. He had to get home to you soon.
“You ain’t ever made a girl cum in their life so what makes you think you could make my girl cum?” Bakugou deadpanned as Denki pouted.
“I have too!” He whined.
“Oh yeah? When was that?” Sero pried.
“Come on, man. Don’t be on his side—”
“The girls on those camsites don’t count, I’m pretty certain they fake it too.”
“I don’t even use those anymore.”
“Oh wow.” Kirishima breathed deeply when Bakugou turned his attention back to his best friend. Noticing he’d opened the texting app and now a photograph you’d just sent sat open on the screen.
“What the fuck, man?” Bakugou grunted, grabbing his phone off Kirishima has he shielded the screen with his body. Curling over the table as he held the device beneath it.
“I’m sorry, it’s not my fault. I saw the notification and I clicked it—” Panic was evident in Kirishima’s tone as he begun a feeble attempt to explain himself. An attempt that would’ve been easier were it not for the alcohol currently circling through his veins, his voice slurred as his eyes glazed over. Trying to commit the picture he’d just seen of you to memory, as though he’d just had a near death experience and had witnessed the pearly gates.
“Let me see,” Denki practically begged, “God, dude. Please— let me see. Eiji got to see, it’s not fair!”
“Shut up,” Bakugou cut both men off, trying to focus on the picture you’d just sent.
It was a photograph taken from above your body, between the gap of your thighs and your chubby mound as he noticed the dark stain that now splashed across your bedsheets. Bakugou sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth when he noticed the text message that you’d sent with it.
You[9.45PM]: You just made me squirt omg
You[9.46PM]: You’re cleaning that up when you get home it’s not my fault :(((
“Fuck, she squirted.” Bakugou mumbled, eyes roaming your exposed skin and the mess you’d made on the screen.
That’s it, he was going home to you now.
“What?!” Denki gasped in surprise, practically jumping over the table in the booth to read the messages, “You made her squirt?”
“Clearly it was me that got her close enough to do it,” Sero grinned, “Eij just got lucky to get her last.”
“And she sent a picture? Can I see it, man? Please.” Denki looked as though he was about to cry, his knuckles turning white from gripping the edge of the table, “Please just one pic.”
Bakugou chewed the inside of his cheek for a moment, debating on whether to show the personal picture you’d sent. A picture that had clearly been intended for his eyes only— but he’d explain to you later.
Turning the screen to the rest of the table, ensuring it faced away from the busy bar as his friends leaned in to look at it. Eyes darting across the imagine to try and memorise it in the few seconds that Bakugou had given them.
“Holy fucking shit.” Sero grinned.
“That’s not fair that you get to go home to that,” Denki threw his head against the back of the booth with a groan, “I’d lick it off the floor.”
“You’re such a fuckin’ freak.” Bakugou sneered, scrunching his nose at the debauched comment.
Locking his phone before leaning forward to pick his beer bottle up to down the rest of its contents, slamming the empty bottle back down on the table as he grabbed his jacket.
“Well, you’ve seen what I’ve got waiting for me at home, I’m out.” Bakugou fist bumped Sero as before shrugging his jacket back on.
“Any chance at a video call?” Denki pleaded, clasping his hands together as Bakugou shot him a glare, “What? I’m just asking.”
Bakugou text you as he left the bar, moving quick on his feet to get home to you as quickly as possible as he hailed a taxi.
Bakugou[9.52PM]: I’m not cleaning that up when I get home, I’m making it worse.
#bakugou x reader#bakugou smut#bakugou katuski x reader#katsuki bakugo x reader#katsuki bakugou x reader#katsuki bakugou smut#katsuki bakugo smut#bakugo x reader#bakugo smut#bnha x reader#bnha smut#mha x reader#mha smut#tw:dubcon#trigger:dubcon
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Strawberries
Bucky Barnes x Female Reader One-Shot: SMUT
Request by @cherrywinedarling: fuckboy!Bucky, sex pollen.
Summary: Bucky, the man with a long list of girls on his roster, gets exposed to a sex pollen in the field. Will he fuck the first girl he calls or the girl he's wanted for the last two months?
Warnings: profanity, sex pollen (dubcon), fingering, unprotected sex, fuckboy!Bucky, size kink, MINORS DNI, 18+!!!
Word Count: 7.5k
A/N: Special thanks to @cherrywinedarling for submitting such an inspirational (fcking hot) request and coming up with the entire plot of Bucky being unable to get himself off with a random girl, and only being able to get what he needs from reader. Lowkey loved writing this. And thanks as always to @littlemiss-yeehaw for pre-reading and catching some errors.
Twice. No, maybe it was actually three times. Definitely three times. Bucky can remember being exposed to different versions of HYDRA’s sex pollen three times before. Each time was strictly for experimental or torture purposes rather than being done with the intent of breeding super soldiers, but it happened three times, nonetheless. So, this would be number four.
Bucky lets the cool water from the shower faucet splash over his face for a minute before beginning to scrub his skin with a wet, soapy cloth. He tried to tell you that it wasn’t anything to stress over, that he’d keep his distance from the rest of the team on the quinjet and then lock himself in his room once you were all back at the compound, but you insisted on doing things the right way. He didn’t have to take an order from you, but he did. He shot you a frustrated look before making a crude comment and trudging off to the safehouse bathroom to take a shower like you’d told him to.
“I’ll leave the door unlocked for you, don’t keep me waiting too long.” Bucky had said it with a smirk as he stood in the living room of the safehouse and stripped his shirt off with ease. But that smirk was gone the moment he shut himself in the bathroom and turned on the faucet. He’s been through this three times before but it was never enjoyable. It’ll start out as a sort of general discomfort, maybe some body aches and chills as his temperature rises slowly. Then it’ll progress to cardiovascular symptoms: his heart will begin to race, he’ll hear the thumping sound of blood rushing in his ears, his blood pressure will spike. In a normal person, the dangerous spike in blood pressure would be enough to cause a stroke, but Bucky’s vascular system has much more elasticity than a normal person. He’ll be fine. It’s the third stage of the drug’s effects that will really drive him mad. He’ll begin to feel the undeniable urge to fuck.
As you carefully piece together the gun that you’ve just dismantled, cleaned, and oiled, you’re lost in thought. You’ve done enough research over the years to know that HYDRA worked overtime to come up with various chemical compounds that would induce a near primal sexual drive in super soldiers. They wanted a sure way to grow an army of super soldiers over time without having to go through the process of wiping countless minds clean and reprogram them. You almost audibly laugh when you think about the irony of Bucky Barnes being exposed to one of those very sex pollens on your mission today. Bucky Barnes, the man who lately seems to be attempting to catch up on his eighty-something years worth of celibacy, has been exposed to a chemical compound that will make him even more insatiable than he’s already known to be. You have to wonder if he’s secretly thrilled that he has the drug coursing through his veins now.
“You’re not gonna go help your friend out with this?” Sam’s voice rings out from somewhere behind you just as you’re reloading your gun and sliding it into the side holster of your tactical pants. You laugh lightly, shaking your head as you begin packing up the last of your belongings from the kitchen table.
“He’s fucked every girl he’s met since he finished therapy, I think he has a long list of people who can help him out when we get back home.” Though there’s a lighthearted tone behind your words, you’re serious. Bucky’s been a ladies’ man since he stopped seeing Dr. Raynor for mandatory therapy sessions, and not just your average good looking, single bachelor type of ladies’ man. Bucky’s a fuckboy. Sure, he seems to be respectful about it. He doesn’t lead girls on, doesn’t make them think there’s ever a possibility for something more than one or two nights in his bed, and he leaves them all satisfied. But he’s still a fuckboy.
Your words didn’t hurt his feelings. Bucky can’t fault you for being perceptive. He really has fucked almost every girl he’s met in the last couple of months. Hell, he would’ve fucked you too if you’d just given him a chance. That’s how you ended up becoming friends. He tried like hell to get you into his bed shortly after you were assigned to the team and moved into the room next door to his, but you were adamant that you weren’t looking to be a notch on his bedpost. However, instead of telling him to fuck off, you put up with his shit and even seemed to have a good time doing so. So, you ended up being the only female friend of his that hasn’t been tangled up in his bedsheets.
Although your words weren’t necessarily hurtful, Bucky still finds himself a little bothered. He was just about to join you and Sam in packing things up and getting ready to head out when he overheard your conversation and swiftly turned back around, quietly shutting himself in the bathroom once again. You’re right, he does have a long list of people who can help him out when you get back home. God, you’re always right. If he wasn’t so inexplicably drawn to you, he’d probably hate you. But being friends with you is one of the few things that keeps him from comparing his life now to his life eighty years ago. The girl from the bar last week, that’s who he’ll call when he gets home. She was pretty. She had a nice smile, eyes that really drew him in, and she was easy to talk to. She could definitely be the solution to the problem at hand. The more Bucky thinks about her, the more he realizes she sort of reminds him of you. Shit. He’s done that too many times in the past month, brought home girls that seem so familiar but it isn’t until he’s fucked them that he realizes they remind him of you. Why the hell does that keep happening?
---
It’s just an hour later when you’re all arriving back at the compound. Sam excuses himself to go brief Fury and a few other higher-ups on everything that went down during your op, while you and Bucky head for the main tower, each of you ready to unwind in different ways. As you take the elevator up, your eyes wander over to Bucky, who stands to your right. His cheeks are flushed pink, a few stray strands of hair are stuck to his forehead with sweat, and he’s rubbing the back of his neck with his flesh hand like it’s sore to the touch. He acted like being exposed to a sex pollen was just another day at work for him, but you know him well enough to know that at the very least, he’s uncomfortable right now.
When the elevator doors slide open to let you both out into the main room of the living quarters, Bucky doesn’t even wait to let you off first like he usually does. He steps in front of you and exits quickly, walking a little faster than usual to get to his room down the hall. Maybe that’s what makes you feel bad for him, or maybe it’s the fact that he feels like he has to pretend like he’s unbothered in front of you and Sam instead of telling you how much it sucks to have such a vile chemical compound wreaking havoc within his body.
“Do you need anything?” You ask softly as you pass Bucky in the hall and near your own door, just a few steps beyond his. The sound of your voice breaks his focus and he drops his keys at his feet. Bucky stoops down to retrieve them and then turns his full body to face you from five feet away. You work on unlocking your own door, but cast a sideways glance in his direction. His usual smirk is notably missing, and a stormy, hard-to-discern look has taken its place.
“If I do, I can call one of the girls I’ve met since I finished therapy.” The words are like ice: cold and jarring, sending a chill down your spine. He overheard you and Sam earlier. You don’t know why you feel like a kid sitting in the principal’s office, not when you’ve teased him over his fuckboy ways for as long as you’ve known him. It shouldn’t have bothered him that much considering it was true. Why do you feel like shit for having said it now? More importantly, why does his response to your question feel like a rejection?
When Bucky steps into his room and shuts the door behind him, you hear him seal himself in with the resounding metal click of a lock. If only he’d known that a deadbolt wouldn’t keep you away.
---
You’ve just finished showering and getting yourself ready for bed when you hear the familiar sound of Bucky’s door opening and closing down the hall, followed by two sets of quiet footsteps heading in the opposite direction. Two sets of footsteps? Bucky must’ve called for one of his late-night guests a little early tonight, to help with his situation. You’ve lived next door to him for a couple of months now and if you’ve learned anything, it’s that the man has stamina. So, for one of his guests to have arrived and left in the short time that it took you to shower and pull on some pajamas, something must’ve gone wrong.
Bucky stands with his back pressed against the cool metal wall of the elevator and his arms crossed over his chest as he mentally kicks his own ass. He couldn’t go through with it. He called the girl from the bar, the one who reminded him of you. He invited her over, took her upstairs to his room, gave her a mind-blowing orgasm with minimal effort, but the moment he heard her cry out his name, he knew he wasn’t going to sleep with her. She sounded nothing like you, not even similar enough that he could’ve imagined she was you.
“Thanks for coming over on such short notice, it was good to see you.” Bucky forces himself to break the silence in the elevator. When his eyes land on the girl standing a few inches to his left, she offers him a genuine smile.
“Of course, I had a good time. I wish you would’ve let me make things even though.” She says, referring to the way Bucky had gotten her off but then briskly offered to walk her back downstairs. He nods slowly, tracing the backs of his teeth with the tip of his tongue.
“Yeah, maybe next time.” There won’t be a next time, not when he’s stuck thinking about how hard it was to imagine the girl being you. A few minutes later, Bucky’s guest is riding off into the night in the car he called for her. He’s left standing in front of the tower, feeling the full effects of the sex pollen as he enters the peak hour of its activity. There it is, that undeniable urge to fuck.
You’re sitting in an armchair by your bedroom window, munching on a bowl of strawberries that you settled on as a late-night snack, when you hear one set of footsteps coming down the hall. It’s the sound of Bucky returning to his room alone. You have to wonder if the sex pollen decreased his stamina. It must have, otherwise his little guest would’ve been here for at least another hour or two. You make a mental note to research that in some of the old HYDRA files tomorrow, out of sheer curiosity. As you sit there in your chair, licking a drop of strawberry juice off of your bottom lip, you can’t help but wonder what the hell Bucky’s doing. By your calculations, he should be experiencing the worst of the sex pollen effects right now, yet he’s alone in his room. You remind yourself that he doesn’t want your help, that he doesn’t need your help. You tell yourself that he probably took care of every urge he had with the girl that he invited over earlier, and then you try to focus on your snack and the TV show you have playing quietly on your TV.
When you hear the distant sound of a pained grunt coming from the other side of your bedroom wall, every muscle in your body goes rigid. You quickly pause your show and set your empty bowl on the small table beside your armchair. Only a few seconds go by before you hear another grunt, followed by the sound of what you surmise is Bucky’s fist colliding with something in his room. Before your mind has a moment to attempt a rational thought process, your feet are carrying you out of your own room and down the hallway to Bucky’s closed door. Your fist is rapping against his door softly at first, knowing he’s awake and you don’t have to be very loud for him to hear you. No answer. You knock again, a little harder this time, hoping he hasn’t stroked out from a spike in his blood pressure. Still, no answer. The third time you knock, you use the side of your fist instead of your knuckles, and you bang on his door so hard that you feel it rattle on its hinges.
Bucky heaves a deep sigh before unlocking the door and pulling it open, knowing you’ll be standing on the other side of it. Just the sight of you has Bucky’s already hard cock twitching in his sweats and he has to avert his gaze, choosing to look over your shoulder instead of right at you.
“I would’ve answered the first time if I wanted to talk to you right now.” Bucky says coldly. A chorus of go away’s play on repeat in his mind as he wishes with every fiber of his being that you’d do just that.
“You didn’t sleep with her, did you?” One look at Bucky’s disheveled state, his messy hair, the sheen of sweat making his chest and abs gleam under the dim lights of the hallway, and the way his breaths are coming in much more shallow than usual, tells you that you’re right. Bucky meets your gaze for a brief second, and his eyes give you the answer his mouth won’t. He didn’t sleep with her. “How bad is it?”
“I’ve been through this before.” Bucky reminds you, running a hand through his hair and squeezing his eyes shut. You’re standing in front of him wearing a pair of gray joggers, a little cropped tank top, and a light cardigan over your shoulders. He knows that tank top well. If the lighting was a little better, he’d be able to see straight through the thin fabric of it. God, he needs you to leave. “Like I said earlier, if I need help, I have people I can call.”
“You called someone and it clearly didn’t help, Bucky.” Just the sound of his name leaving your lips has him biting the inside of his cheek.
“Go to bed.” His tone is authoritative now. But of course, you’d never take an order from him. Especially not when he’s so obviously miserable. Your eyes drift down his torso, taking in the sight of the super soldier that stands before you nearly drowning in a chemically-induced state of arousal. You don’t really know why it pains you to see him like this, why it pains you that he keeps rejecting your help, but you’ve had enough. When you continue to stand in front of Bucky, defying his order for you to go to bed, he drops his hand from his hair and narrows his eyes at you. As you make eye contact with him, an unfamiliar warmth begins to spread along the surface of your skin. Maybe that’s what made you do it, maybe the warmth is what made you start taking your clothes off. You don’t really know what it was, but once you started you knew you wouldn’t stop.
Your fingers begin carefully tugging on the drawstring of your joggers, loosening the tied knot as you look into Bucky’s conflicted blue eyes. You continue watching him as his gaze darts down to the motion of your hands, his eyes widening as he realizes what you’re doing.
“What can I do to help?” You ask the question in a whisper. It’s obvious what you’re offering and it has Bucky’s mind racing. He’s wanted you in his bed since the day he met you, but you never gave in to his chase. He’s sure that you’re only giving in now because you think that he needs you to, because you’re ever the kind, helpful girl next door for him. You’ve finished untying the drawstring of your pants and you’re letting the cardigan slip off of your shoulders, baring even more of your skin to him, when Bucky has to stop you. He reaches out with both hands, catching the soft fabric of your sweater in his hands and pulling it back up to cover your shoulders.
“You can go to bed, that would be really fucking helpful.” Bucky rasps. The fingertips of his flesh hand graze over the skin of your shoulder as he sets your cardigan back in its place, and the contact sends a fresh wave of primal need throughout his body. That wave of need is quickly followed by a horrible ache that forces him to draw his hands back to his sides and clench his fists.
“Bucky, stop rejecting me.” A sudden boldness comes over you and you find yourself placing both palms against his chest and pushing him back into his room. He doesn’t fight you as you take two steps inside and shut the door behind you, letting the room engulf both of you in near-darkness.
“Rejecting you? You’ve rejected me since we met.” Bucky scoffs, falling back to sit on the foot of his bed. He brings his elbows to his knees and lets his head dip down to rest in his hands. He may not be watching you, but he’s listening intently as you strip off your cardigan and drop it in the armchair by his window.
“Yeah, I wasn’t going to sleep with the guy who slept with everyone. But now we’re friends, and I’m not going to sit next door while you suffer through this alone.” Bucky dares to sneak a glance at you through his hands. You’re standing a foot in front of him, now in just your sweats and tank top, with your hands on your hips. God, your hips. He’s imagined holding onto those hips while he fucks you from behind so many times. His eyes flutter closed as he lets out a groan. “Bucky, please.” You saying please in such a circumstance is what breaks him.
When Bucky pushes himself off of the foot of the bed and comes to stand only a few inches in front of you, you take half a second to wonder if you’ve just opened a dangerous can of worms.
“Think about what you’re offering.” Bucky’s voice is shaky, but his gaze is hardened as he looks into your eyes. “This isn’t just some favor between friends.” You stay quiet for a moment as you run through the scenario in your head. You imagine going through with it and having sex with him, fulfilling his needs and lessening the pain that he feels from the sex pollen. You imagine the sun rising in the morning and the two of you pretending like nothing ever happened. Why does that last part make you feel uneasy? The idea of sleeping with him tonight doesn’t seem to bother you in the least, but the idea of going right back to normal tomorrow doesn’t sit so well with you.
“I think it’s better if we don’t think about it.” Without letting another thought through your mind, you grasp the waistband of your joggers and begin pushing them down your thighs. As more and more of your skin is revealed to Bucky, his heart rate picks up and his breath hitches in his throat. When you stand up straight in front of him, with your joggers now lying on his bedroom floor, he has to bite his bottom lip to keep from grabbing you and throwing you down on his bed. You can see the wheels in his mind turning as he overthinks this. It’s the thing he’s wanted since he met you, being offered to him on a silver platter, but he can’t stop thinking about how this could ruin the most real friendship that he’s had since Steve. You do the only thing you can think to do to break him out of his thoughts. You step forward and take both of his hands in yours, guiding them up to your face. When his palms make contact with either side of your jaw, his thumbs are quick to begin caressing your cheeks, as if the gentle touch is instinct for him, as if the two of you have done this countless times before. “I said don’t think about it.”
His blue eyes search yours for any sign of hesitation, but he finds none. So, he takes the leap. Bucky leans in and closes the gap between the two of you, his lips finding yours in the darkness. With the first brush of his lips against yours, your eyes flutter closed and you’re at his mercy. You part your lips to accept him, feeling a rush of heat travel through your body as he sucks on your bottom lip gently. You didn’t expect a kiss from Bucky Barnes to be so gentle. You expected it to be hasty, used as a means to an end rather than for the simple pleasure of kissing. But Bucky kisses like it’s as vital to his being as breathing. His tongue glides along your top lip slowly, feeling his way into your mouth before fully tasting you. As soon as his tongue tangles with yours, he pulls back, his hands still cupping either side of your face.
“You taste like strawberries.” He says, licking his lips as he peers down at you with narrowed eyes. Blush creeps into your cheeks, you can’t tell if he’s saying that as a good thing or a bad thing with the hard-to-read expression on his face. Another lick of his lips and a smile begins to tug on the corners of his mouth. “You taste like strawberries.” He repeats, going back for more. This time, you experience the less gentle kiss that you initially expected from him. He wastes no time in sliding his tongue back into your mouth and letting it work in tandem with yours. As he tilts his head to deepen the kiss, his vibranium hand slides down and wraps around your waist, pulling you as close to him as possible. His flesh hand ghosts over your jawline, along the side of your neck, and then you feel him wrap it around your throat just lightly enough that you notice it. Something about having his hand around your throat sets a fire ablaze inside of you, and before you know it, your hands are flat on his chest. You almost wish he had a shirt on so you could grip onto the fabric and tug him further into you.
Bucky’s losing his mind. He’s losing his goddamn mind because you’re in his bedroom, your pants are on his floor, and you’re kissing him back. You’re kissing him and you taste like strawberries. The longer you let him kiss you like this, with one of his hands wrapped lightly around your throat and the other resting dangerously close to your ass, the more his fuckboy ways start to evaporate right through his skin. Kissing you for thirty seconds makes him rethink his entire lifestyle.
You’re the one to pull back this time, you pull back the moment Bucky shifts his stance and you feel the outline of his fully erect cock pressing against your lower stomach. This time when you part, his gaze is so much softer. As much as you’re enjoying kissing him, you know that’s not what he needs right now. Taking matters into your own hands, you move past Bucky and sit on the foot of his bed. His eyes follow every move you make.
“Are you sure about this?” He has to ask. He has to know that he isn’t taking advantage of you and your friendship before this goes any further. He isn’t so sure he’ll be able to stop once he’s really touched you, so he’s offering you an out now. When you nod, keeping your eyes on Bucky, he lets out a soft sigh of relief. Your eyes follow him as he moves around the bed to the nightstand and pulls open the top drawer. After pulling out a little square packet and dropping it on top of the bed, he looks over at you once more. “You’ll tell me if I’m too rough?”
“I trust you.” You whisper. Bucky’s eyes darken as his pupils dilate even more and he begins walking back to the foot of the bed, coming to stand right in front of you.
“You trust me.” He repeats the words slowly, savoring them. You trust him. He looks down at you with an even mix of lust and admiration, but you only notice the lust. Raising his right hand up, he tucks your hair behind one ear and then traces a line from the point of your jaw to the tip of your chin with his index finger. Bucky curls that finger beneath your chin and tilts your face upward. The way your eyes pierce his, he feels like you’re looking straight into his soul, like you’re seeing every darkened corner within him that he’s tried so hard to hide. Instead of feeling vulnerable, he feels at home under your watchful stare.
Bucky tilts his head to the side and his eyes flit behind you to the expanse of the bed, signaling that he wants you to move back onto it. You do just that, turning over so your back is to him as you crawl further up on the mattress. A soft groan from Bucky lets you know he likes the view already, and you smile to yourself. You always knew he was attracted to you, but having the extra confirmation now really feeds your confidence. You can hear the rustling of fabric behind you and when you turn over once again to lay on your back, holding yourself up on your elbows, you see that Bucky has tossed his sweatpants onto the floor beside yours. Now, you see your friend, standing before you in only a pair of black boxers. Your breath hitches in your throat when your eyes land on the bulge beneath the thin fabric.
“Oh my god, you’re so big.” Your eyes widen and dart back up to meet Bucky’s. Of course, he has a smug smile plastered across his face.
“You couldn’t have guessed that?” He asks, placing one knee on the foot of the bed as he looks you over.
“I never thought about it.” You find yourself staring at it again, but Bucky blocks your view when he starts crawling over your body.
“You don’t have to lie, sweetheart.” Bucky tsks, resting his body weight on you as he leans in and kisses your neck. You find yourself tilting your head to the side to give him more access, loving the way he alternates between licking and sucking your skin. “God, you taste like strawberries, you smell like strawberries.” Bucky grunts against your neck before sitting back on his knees between your legs. “I don’t think I can wait much longer.” He says quietly, analyzing your expression. You study his face for a moment, taking in his flushed cheeks, the way his chest is rapidly rising and falling, and even the way the tips of his ears are turning pink. His blood pressure is spiking.
You push yourself up to a sitting position and without thinking, you tug your tank top over your head, tossing it on the floor and completely baring your chest to Bucky.
“Fuck.” The curse falls from his lips as his eyes devour your nearly naked body. It takes him a few seconds to compose himself and focus. When you start shimmying out of your panties, he moves to stand on the floor beside the bed, squeezing his eyes shut as he takes his own boxers off. He’s worried if he gets one look at you completely naked in his bed, he’ll start cumming and because of the sex pollen, he won’t stop.
“Look at me.” Your voice is too kind, too sweet for someone so willing to be fucked. But Bucky listens, opening his eyes and meeting your gaze. His hand is fisting around his cock within a second, stroking it as he looks not at your body, but into your fucking soul. “You’re supposed to be letting me help you.” You remind him, fighting the urge to look down at where he’s touching himself. Bucky groans again but starts climbing back over you, his hard cock dragging along the skin of your thigh as he situates himself over you but slightly to one side, resting his weight on one elbow.
“I don’t want to hurt you.” Bucky presses a kiss to your lips. It’s a kiss he meant to be quick and reassuring, but neither of you could resist deepening it. So, he licks into your mouth once again, loving the way you taste, and you feel his right hand sliding down your stomach. His fingertips ghost lightly over your thigh at first, testing the waters, but you don’t flinch away. He has to make sure you can take him. He knows he’s big, and he has no idea how long it’s been since the last time you were with someone. When his hand ventures between your legs, you spread them without hesitation, continuing to kiss him with a growing desperation. The moment Bucky lets his fingertips glide along your wet folds, he can’t stop himself from rutting against your thigh. “You’re so wet for me, fuck.” A soft hum leaves your lips but it’s quickly transformed into a moan when Bucky applies pressure to your clit and begins to circle the pads of his fingers over it. Sparks of pleasure ignite, urging you to spread your legs even more and break away from his mouth to take in a gasp of air.
“Bucky, you don’t have to—” You’re cut off by your own cry when Bucky abandons your clit and slips two fingers inside of you, sending them only halfway as he watches between your legs. He’s in awe of you. Your back arches off of his mattress and he’s so tempted to kiss and lick all over your breasts, but he can’t ignore the overwhelming ache in his lower stomach and cock for much longer. He curls his fingers against your walls slowly, turning to watch your face this time. He studies you as your eyes scrunch closed and your mouth parts to let a heavy pant past your lips. You look fucking perfect. He knows the longer he delays his own release, the worse he’ll feel physically. He can already hear the blood rushing in his ears and feels the pain throughout his body worsening with every sound you make, but he wants this to be good for you. He needs this to be good for you. So, Bucky begins dragging his fingers out and then pushing them right back in, over and over again. He works you up to being able to take them deeper and deeper until he can’t push them in any more. That’s when he leans into you and leaves light kisses across your right cheek and temple. You find yourself leaning into his touch.
“I can’t wait anymore.” Bucky grunts, as he pulls his fingers out of you slowly one last time. He wants so badly to lick his fingers and taste you, but he knows that if he gets a taste, he won’t ever be able to get over it. He’d spend every day doing whatever the hell he had to do just to get more. Instead, Bucky slides those two wet fingers over the head of his cock, mixing your arousal with his precum and spreading it down the shaft. He gives it a few strokes, letting his head fall against your shoulder as he begins to feel just the slightest bit of relief inside his body. But it isn’t enough. Bucky lets go of his cock and leans over you, reaching across the bed to grab the condom he placed there earlier. When he rolls onto his back and begins tearing the small wrapper open, you take matters into your own hands.
Bucky damn near feels butterflies when you move to straddle him, bracing your hands on his bare chest as you swing a leg over him.
“Just give me a second.” Bucky grunts, his eyes darting between the half open condom wrapper and where you’re lowering yourself down over him. He gets the condom out of the wrapper but freezes when he feels your dripping cunt grind along the shaft of his cock. “Shit, be careful.” He warns you through gritted teeth. You know you really should be careful. Hell, he’s slept with so many girls just in the last month that you should be using any and every form of protection out there. Not to mention the fact that both the super soldier serum and sex pollen really ramped up his reproductive system, increasing his sperm count and motility like crazy. The man could easily save the human race from extinction if he was the last viable male on Earth. But you’re not thinking straight. You’re not thinking straight at all when you begin grinding down and circling your hips against him, reveling in the feeling of his hard cock pressing against your clit. You drag your hips back and forth as Bucky’s hands move to grip you there, with the unwrapped condom still in his right hand. You can feel that little piece of latex between his palm and your hip. The thought crosses your mind so briefly, but once the seed is planted, there’s no going back. Feeling the condom all rolled up between Bucky’s hand and your hip is really what planted the seed. You want to feel him inside you, without a damn thing in between. So, you grind along the length of his cock once more, but when you near the tip, you continue sliding forward on it and grinding down until you feel it against your entrance, and then you grind down a little harder, angling your hips just right so it starts to slide in.
“Oh my god.” You moan out, letting your head fall back as you reach down with one hand and start fully guiding him inside of you. Bucky can only watch, his grip on your hips getting impossibly tighter. You’ve only taken in the head of his cock when you still yourself, trying your best to adjust to his ample size. You feel a mix of stinging pain and pleasure, but he did such a thorough job of preparing you with his fingers that the sting is minimal.
“I’m not wearing a condom.” Bucky pants, scanning your face as you slide down another couple of inches. He’s nearly halfway in now and it’s taking every single ounce of his self-control to keep from pulling your hips down and making you take all of it. Your eyes flutter open and lock onto his.
“I know.” You pair your two little words with the act of forcing yourself to take the rest of his length. Your clit brushes against the base of his cock and for a moment, you actually think he might be too big for you.
“Fuck.” Bucky groans lowly. His eyes scrunch shut even though he so badly wants to keep them wide open and memorize the way you look when you’re being fucking ruined by his cock. His balls feel so full and heavy, even more so than usual with the way the sex pollen is screwing up his reproductive system, and the fact that you’re the one he’s balls deep inside of isn’t helping. You really should’ve let him put on a condom, but he sure as hell isn’t going to stop you now. Bucky releases his hold on your hip with his right hand and lets the unused condom fall from his grasp, watching as it lands on the bed. When he digs his fingers into the skin of your hips once more, the sensation spurs you to attempt moving. You start with slow up and down movements, only fucking half of his cock, unsure if you could manage the whole thing at once. But when you get a look at Bucky’s face, at the way it’s contorted with pleasure yet restrained as if he’s holding himself back, you know you need to give him more. So, you take a deep breath and begin lifting yourself off of his cock. Bucky’s eyes follow, so focused on the way you leave his cock glistening as you pull off of it. When only the head is left inside of you, you breathe out as you sit all the way back down. Fuck, it hurts when he’s all the way in but you don’t want to stop. God, you don’t want to stop for anything. You go again, trying the movement a little faster this time, earning a soft grunt from Bucky and a few bruises on your hips as his hold tightens more.
“Bucky, you’re too big.” You finally say, after sliding down onto his length the third time. You want to ride his dick and do as much of the work for him as you can right now, but there’s just no way. There’s no way you can pick up the pace and set a good rhythm when he’s so fucking thick and long that you feel him in your stomach every time you sit down. You don’t have the time that you’d need to adjust, you don’t want to make him wait for you to be ready for it. So, you need a new position. Bucky understands immediately. As much as he was loving seeing you fuck his cock all by yourself, his insides are screaming at him to take control and do whatever he needs to do to get himself off.
Bucky eases you down onto his full length one more time, simultaneously hating and loving the way you cringe once you’re fully seated. Then, in one quick, smooth movement, he captures your hands in his and tugs you down to his chest, before rolling both of you over so he’s on top.
“We can save that for next time.” Bucky promises, positioning himself so that the majority of his weight rests on his forearms on either side of your head. As soon as the words have left his mouth, you realize what he’s just said, but he doesn’t. He leans down and licks your bottom lip while you’re lying beneath him, with his cock motionless inside you, as you remind yourself that there will never be a next time. Bucky’s a fuckboy through and through, you’ve never known him to sleep with the same girl twice, and you can’t imagine anything about tonight is going to change that. “Are you adjusted?” He asks, pulling back from your face to look into your eyes. You bend your knees a little and take in a deep breath, letting it out slowly as you focus on your senses. No pain. You nod your head and let your hands ghost along Bucky’s sides.
“Are you always this gentle and thoughtful in bed?” The question sneaks past your lips before you can stop it, but Bucky chuckles as he begins to pull his hips back, sliding his cock out of you inch by inch.
“You think I’m gentle and thoughtful?” Of course he’d take your question as a compliment. Or…maybe not. Bucky shoots you a mischievous look before biting down on his bottom lip and snapping his hips forward, thrusting into you so hard that your back arches off of the bed and your breasts press up against the skin of his bare chest. He took it as a fucking challenge.
“I take it back.” You whine. You dig your nails into the skin of his back hoping to draw a little pain from him, but truthfully, he loves it. He begins slowly dragging his cock back out of you while you’re wondering how the hell he’s still so composed and restrained. “I thought being exposed to a sex pollen would’ve made this a quick, sort of desperate kind of thing.”
“Is that what you wanted?” Another snap of his hips and you’re filled with his cock again.
“I didn’t say that, it’s just what I expected. Does it not make you feel like fucking the shit out of anyone you can get your hands on?” Your fingers dance up his sides until they’re tangled in his messy hair. Another slow drag of his hips and you’re feeling nearly empty.
“It does, but like I said, I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Hurt me.” He freezes with his cock halfway out of you. Your own eyes widen at your unexpected request. Where the hell did your filter go? You didn’t even mean it the way it sounds, you just meant that you don’t want him to keep holding back for your sake. “I meant—”
“I know what you meant.” Bucky grunts, clearly turned on by the presumed meaning behind your words. He lowers himself down until his body weight feels like a warm, thick blanket covering every inch of your body. He’s giving you what you want. The talking part is over, you realize, as Bucky lets his forehead fall into the crook of your neck and slides his knees beneath your thighs, opening you up for him even more.
Then, he fucks you. He sets a rhythm and pace so desperate and unforgiving that every thrust causes the mattress to bounce you right back up against him. No matter how much he pulls out, you continuously feel the presence of his cock inside you. Every breath he breathes against your neck, every time his lips ghost over your skin, every needy grunt that meets your ears feeds you like a dose of ecstasy. The atmosphere is reduced to the sounds of skin on skin, panting breaths, and obscene curses and moans falling from parted lips. Bucky fucks you more thoroughly than he’s fucked anyone in the last two months. When he hears your moans increase in pitch and your breaths becoming more and more shallow, he drives his cock into you harder and deeper, making sure his name is the only thing on your mind. You give him no warning when your orgasm begins to tear through your body, but you don’t have to. Your cunt grips his cock so tightly that pulling out to thrust into you is damn near painful, so Bucky begins grinding into you, moving his hips in rhythmic circles. When your breaths begin to come a little easier, Bucky’s own release is threatening to spill over, so he starts to slow his hips and pull out of you. He isn’t wearing a condom and he knows this won’t be a small mess by any means.
But you, the girl next door, the girl who tastes like fucking strawberries, you slide your hands down and grab his hips every bit as harshly as he grabbed yours earlier, and you pull him further into you. An orgasm hits him like a fucking freight train. It wasn’t even the sensation of being inside you that sent him over the edge, as heavenly as that was. No, it was the fact that you wouldn’t let him pull out. The fact that you didn’t even let him wear a condom. The fact that you’re you and you’re so desperate for his cum that you’d hold him there and take it like you had a right to. After three seconds, Bucky’s surpassing a normal amount of cum, and both of you are fully aware of it.
“It won’t stop, fuck.” Bucky groans against your neck as he slowly ruts into you, trying to get himself through his orgasm. “There’s so much cum.”
“That’s okay, it’s okay, Bucky.” You whisper, moving your hands back up to his head and carding your fingers through his hair. “I can take it.”
Shit. He might be in love with you.
#bucky barnes#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes smut#bucky barnes x you#mcu#marvel#the winter soldier#winter soldier
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satoru bday fic!
cw: suggestive
gojo thinks he should be nominated for boyfriend of the year.
not only had he managed to get the kids to school on time, pick up the groceries, get all his reports in to principal yaga, and clean the kitchen, but he’d managed to do it all while extremely hungover on his birthday.
he’d even managed to do it all before you’d even gotten out of bed.
he doesn’t blame you for sleeping in. the impromptu birthday party he’d thrown had left you all in quite the state by the early hours of morning. you need the re��
“satoru! could you come in here for a second?”
“coming!” he calls back, shoving the coupon that’d fallen from shoko’s birthday card into his wallet before making his way to the bedroom. “hey, let’s get some frozen yogurt when the kids get ho— holy shit.”
your face breaks out into a grin of triumph at his sudden silence. gojo’s rightfully stunned, carefully studying each bit of revealing lace and the way it sits against your body before committing it to memory.
“is that…”
“the set you had commissioned in paris,” you hum, nonchalant as you drag your fingertips up your hip. “that’s the one.”
he takes a few slow steps toward where you are and takes a seat at the edge of the bed, arousal warming his whole body. “but you said you’d never wear it because—”
“because i was saving it for something special,” you finish, leaning up and shifting towards him. “like your birthday.”
“well,” he sighs as you close the distance between you. “i should unwrap my gift then.”
“please try not to tear it,” you murmur as his lips brush over your pulse. “i’d very much like to wear it again, and i, oh, i saw the charge on the credit card…”
his reply is no more than a distracted hum as you shift onto his lap, allowing curious hands to explore your body and hungry lips to move against yours.
the lace is soft on your skin, his hands eagerly working to undo the ties holding up delicate florals and sheer material.
“satoru, i need you.” your breath is warm against his skin, exciting him more as he goes to pull off garter belt.
“uh, babe?”
“hm?”
“how do you take this off?”
_____
“well, i connected it to this piece—”
“but we can’t take this piece off unless we take this one off too. that doesn’t make any sense.”
“i’m telling you, that’s how i put it on.”
“then why won’t it come off?”
it’s then that gojo decides custom lingerie should come with instructions. when he’d designed it, he hadn’t actually considered the logistics of this operation.
“okay,” you huff, turning around and placing your hands on his shoulders. “you’re just going to have to tear it.”
“fine by me,” he grins, slightly smug as he curls his fingers around the expensive material and tears—
the two of you scramble up when the front door slams open. it’s in that moment you realize that satoru hadn’t closed the bedroom door.
“mom!” you hear megumi shout, his stomps echoing through the apartment. “tsumiki ate one of my snacks!”
“shit, fuck.” cursing, you grab his discarded t-shirt and slip it on before jumping into bed. satoru slips in next to you, pulling the duvet up to your chins and pressing against you from behind.
“satoru!” you hiss when you feel something poke the back of your thigh.
“we just made out for like ten minutes,” he whispers back, only pulling you closer. “you didn’t think i’d get one?”
“put it away!”
“i could, but—”
you manage to summon one of your divine dogs in time for it push the bedroom door closed, breathing a sigh of relief when the kid’s footsteps come to a halt.
“we’ll be out in a second!” you call, hearing their hushed argument as they trudge back to the kitchen.
“i might need more than a second…”
you hit satoru in the face with a pillow. “you’ll get the rest of your birthday gift tonight, after you drop the kids off at nanami’s.
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lolita ☆ cs55
genre: age gap (10 years), porn with plot, affairs, forbidden romance, angst, mentions of suicide, mentions of drugs, tragedy, erotic literature
word count: 14.9k
You were young, alluring, floating through a disastrous life with the touch of a thousand angels. Carlos was successful, irresistible and someone who often kept a distance from catastrophe. Never in a million years did he think he would have a complete moment of weakness. Especially the week of his wedding.
nsfw warning under the cut!
18+... sexual tension, penetrative sex, dry humping, riding, size kink, oral sex (f and m receiving), semi - public sex, deepthroating, praise, fingering, handjobs, lots of dirty foreplay, slapping (like once AH), a bit of edging, overstimulation, a bit of crying, sucking on fingers, squirting - i should stop now, oh god.
inspired by this and this !
STOP AND READ:
This by no means - in any shape or form - is something that should be admired or looked up to. It does deal with serious topics such as: grooming, suicide, and drugs. While the reader is of age (19), this is not my way of impulsing my own readers - especially younger ones, if by any chance they come across this - to follow this mindset. Dark themes will take place and if that is not something you are comfortable with, then that is okay, I definitely have more light hearted fics in my masterlist. “Love stories” aren’t always filled with flowers and rainbows, they can also be hurtful and confusing, often misunderstood. This is fictional. Given, this is inspired by Lolita and Blue Velvet by Lana Del Rey (*everyone cheers*) – what that means is that this story will not have a happy ending. Verses of Lolita by Vladimir Nabokov are also mentioned (extremely controversial book - as it should be).
cherry here!…hi, guys! i hope you all enjoy and i’m gonna do it now: I’M SORRY.
She was as dangerous as poison could ever be - with no good intentions. She was malicious, sweet laughter that would make anyone fall in love. An Angel walking on Earth, curiously making it her playground.
He was intelligent. A man of few words, but also simply so, the seven deadly sins all wrapped up in one. Keeping a distance from things he knew would bring him no good.
But in order to understand, we would have to take you back to where it all began.
Where Paradise met Hell.
-
Growing up in Italy for some odd reason made you out to be the girl you were. Men there would throw themselves at any opportunity if they saw a single daisy looking girl in eyesight. At first it felt as if you were walking a tightrope; you knew it wouldn’t be the wisest idea to fall straight into their traps. Except, slowly, it made sense.
They knew how to sweet talk someone so young and naive - you’ll give them that. It only took one taste and that was the moment you knew.
You liked them older.
Men fucked in a way boys never would. Every single one would always put your needs first - but there was this one man that had you realizing how fucked up you could be in order to get what you want. That’s one prize you’d cheat to win.
And that’s a story for later.
-
Moving away for college was the best decision you felt you would ever make in your entire life. Given, Italy was home, but the people in it weren’t. Often, you find yourself missing your rendezvous but studying abroad in Spain wasn’t much different.
Note; you didn’t grow up with a tight knit family. Your mother was a drug addict with half of her days knocked out on the couch, your father was someone who was occasionally in the picture. He tried his best.
And your older sister, Ollie?
Well, you’d honestly forgotten you even had one.
Some may say that you’re a whore, a slut, a homewrecker, or any other Spanish slur that spits Madrid, but you never cared. You were having fun and why were you the one always being blamed? Perhaps, men, too, should think with their heads rather than their dicks.
Which is how you find yourself still repeating the familiar pattern you had started a long time ago. Riding your professor shouldn’t feel this good. Mierda, he would groan as you bounce up and down like a bunny. Mewling, you shake the feeling of remorse. Not when he felt this good.
Your phone ringing is what makes you stop, him still inside of you, twitching. Ciao? His calloused fingers would slide up to pinch your nipples as you lightly gasped.
“Tesoro! Haven’t heard your voice in so long.”
Your father’s tone makes you wince at the reminder. Occasionally, he would check up on you in a way you would assume other fathers did for their daughters. You could never hate him, though. In his own way, deep down, he still cared.
“Papi, how are you?”
Sliding off of his lap, you zip your dress back on as you pace the lecture room. Bored, he takes out his secret whiskey from under his desk. Your sister is getting married in a few weeks! I was thinking you could fly back home so you could join us. The thought alone made your stomach churn as you bit down onto your thumb. Signaling at the older man, you click your fingers, hinting for a glass of your own. He obliges, handing it to you.
“I’m busy with summer courses. Maybe I can send a gift?”
You try everything in the book in order to get out of what seems like a crappy, dull, Italian wedding. It had been ages since you last stepped foot there. In no right mind would Ollie’s wedding be the one to change that. But he says things that get to you. I haven’t seen you in years. Neither has your sister. She misses you, you know?
You bite down on a snarky remark as you down the rest of the gold liquid. Last time you spoke, she promised that you were dead to her. That she never wanted to hear from you again. In the moment, it hurt, but you grew used to the idea. And what younger sister doesn’t pick up on what older sister says? Now, you despised her as much as she did you.
“Ovviamente. I’ll be there.”
-
It’s hot as soon as you land. That you didn’t miss. Ale, your fathers chauffeur, picks you up with a bright smile. Saddened, it dawns on you that you hadn’t seen one of those in ages. He’s nice. Let's you sit in the passenger's seat as he introduces himself. He mentions he has 5 granddaughters and has been married for almost 50 years. It’s sweet. Makes you feel human.
Pulling into the driveway, you almost want to correct him. This isn’t my fathers house. You must be mistaken. Only, he says he isn’t. That he had recently moved into his Italian mansion a year ago. You’re skeptical for a minute, but realize you can’t be one to tell. Years have passed; things change.
Still, that didn’t stop you from gawking at the ginormous house that sits on a hill; overlooking all of Tuscany. It even had a beautiful view of the ocean. Why couldn’t you grow up with this?
“I’ll inform your father that you have arrived safely.”
Taking it all in, you slowly pace the entrance, analyzing everything in sight. The crystals hanging from the chandelier, large - expensive - portraits, shiny mirrors. Quirking your head to the side, you glide over to the golden trophy sitting in the middle of the spacious entry.
Carlos Sainz Sr. : Rally Driver of-
“That belonged to my father. He passed away a year ago.”
Startled, you grip onto the trophy tighter as you slightly jump in panic. You curse yourself for being caught as you delicately place it back down before turning your attention to the booming voice.
Instantly, you’re hit with lust. Standing in front of you is a tall man - around his 20’s, perhaps - dark brown eyes narrowed down on you like knives. Messy, untamed, brown hair. Large nose, plump lips, dark brows. His figure is something you can’t wrap your head around that even exists. Richard Mille's watch clung onto his wrist. Giorgio Armani pressed up against his chest, it almost looked as if it didn’t fit due to his rippling muscles. Woody, rich, scent filling up the room.
He was the most beautiful man you had ever laid eyes on.
“I am so, so, sorry.”
Your voice is so soft, it has him intrigued. You wore a short pastel yellow dress that didn’t leave much to his imagination; paired with converse and tube socks. Rosy tint on your cheekbones from the humidity. Berry lips. Wide, innocent eyes. He’d be lying if he said you didn’t take his own breath away. Even though you stood far enough away, he could still smell your vanilla perfume.
Inching closer, he waves you off. “I was kidding. My father is well and alive.” You tippy toe nervously before planting your feet back down.
“That’s not a nice thing to say.”
And he’s surprised with your response. Yet, he finds himself extending his tan hand out to you. “I’m Carlos.”
Carlos. His name sounds as attractive as his appearance. Strong and sure. But also…dark. You shake his hand, legs quivering at his warm touch. Deep down, he knew how much he affected you - it’s something he’s grown quite accustomed to, having people admire his looks, but it took a lot to not show that you had the same effect on him.
“Nice to meet you, Carlos. Do you work for my father?”
Amused, he lets out a deep chuckle. Even a simple sound like that had you pressing your legs together, arousal dripping in between.
“You don’t know who I am?” You shake your head, confused. Should you? He smiles. “That’s okay. We haven’t met before…Though you should get to know me since you’re already here…”
Wait.
“You know,” he leans his head a bit, floppy hair following, “Ollie.”
No, no, no.
“It’s so nice to finally meet my fiancée’s sister.”
Foolishly, you try your best to hide your surprise. How does a man like him end up with a bratty, narcissist, like your sister?
What was so fucking special about her?
Envy fills your veins as you try to show that this hasn’t phased you. Excited cheers echo down the hallway as your father runs over, embracing you into a warm hug. You’re here! Wincing, you lean into his touch, eyes still trained on the magnetic man.
Only then, did Ollie fly down the stairs, immediately running into Carlos’ arms. Making a big deal out of it, she kisses him as she runs her hands against his chest.
“Come here, tesoro. I’ll show you where you’ll be staying.”
The entire time; Carlos kept his eyes trained on you.
-
It didn’t make sense. Part of you knows it never will. You’ve only just met him, but you can tell he must’ve been fucked in the head to willingly choose someone like Ollie. Sure, she seemed sweet and kind, but she was anything but that.
Dinner that night is carbonara. Carlos is extremely talented. He cooked this just for you. Tight lipped, you thank him, looking down at your plate to avoid his burning gaze.
“How’s school?”
Turning to your father, you remind yourself that you were here for him; because he wanted you there. That’s all that should matter. “Very good. Thank you for asking, papi.”
The sound of glass hitting the table erupts as Carlos hurriedly goes to pick it up, quickly murmuring a strong apology. His dark gaze shortly flickers past you. It leaves you squirming.
Clearing his throat, he takes a sip of his wine. “Where do you study?” Spain, you tell him as he beams. “No way. I was born and raised in Madrid. Moved to Italy a few years ago for work.” Letting out a laugh, you find the coincidence funny. He moved from Spain to Italy and you moved from Italy to Spain.
“What do you do for work?”
“He’s a Formula 1 driver. Drives for Scuderia Ferrari,” Ollie weasels in as she smirks down on you. Anger bubbles inside of her when your attention remains on the Spaniard. Drumming your fingers against the table, you lick your lips. Formula 1? He’s about to explain it all up until Ollie butts in once again. She rubs his hand, a glistening ring shining right in front of you. You physically have to force yourself to look away. “Oh, amor, she doesn’t know what that is. She’s too…young.”
You know she’s trying to make a weak point: you’re only a baby, therefore, you don’t compare to her. And yes, you are young, 19, but it was stupid of her to think that it bothered you. You tsk before leaning back against your chair.
“Of course, my mistake. I forgot I was still a pure flower instead of a wilting one.”
Ollie’s face switches to bright red as she grips onto his hand. An entertained smile slips onto his lips before flattening back out. He rubs her hand, trying to calm her down. You can’t stop the jealousy burning from within.
“I didn’t mean you, Mr. Sainz.”
The 29 year old brushed you as if nothing, a smile displayed. Eyeing you both, Ollie suddenly stands up, chair screeching. Why don’t you help me bring out the cookies I baked? Ever so gracefully, you nod. Following after her, you stop suddenly as she spins, hair slapping her face. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing here? Are you here to ruin my life with your existence?”
“I might.”
Her left eye twitches as she growls angrily. If she didn’t make it this easy to tick her off, then you’d be bored, but luckily for you, it was unchallenging to get under her skin. “This is my wedding; my future husband - so don’t fuck that up like everything else you’ve ever done.”
You try to pretend as if her words didn’t affect you as you stare back blankly. Marching over to the counter, she opens up a box of cookies before sliding them onto a polished dish, leaving you standing there alone.
-
You thank the higher Gods for not letting you cross roads with Ollie for the next few days. Though, you’re a bit bummed out that you haven’t seen Carlos much either. Peeking out the window, you could see the way a group of workers hurried to set up for the joint bachelorette taking place later that night, right on the beach. The waves look magnificent, so without a second thought, you slip on a bikini before rushing out the door with your necessities.
Lathering a goop of coconut sunscreen, you hum softly to yourself. Weren’t you going out with your sister? Looking up, you see Carlos standing in front of you with his face slightly scrunched up from the bright sun. His cheeks looked as if they’d just been pinched. “Where to?”
He takes a seat next to you. “She said she was going out to go buy a few flowers for later. Said she would invite you.” You shake your head, already bored with the idea.
“You know her,” you tap your head, “Forgetful.”
He cocks his head to the side as he shuts his right eye for a moment. “You two don’t get along, do you?” You try making up a silly excuse. Of course we do. We’re sisters. But he’s looking right into your orbs as if he sees right past your weak attempts. “You’re right. I could be wrong.”
It stays quiet for a while - only the soft breeze being heard. You can see him from your peripheral vision; eyes shut as he takes in the moment of peace he hasn’t had since dawn. Long lashes fan his face, freckles scattered all over.
“Aren’t you too busy to be talking to me?”
“No. Plus, I should take time to get to know my future sister-in-law. Especially since I don't know anything about her even after dating her sister for 7 years.”
7 years.
Squinting at the waves, you slide your sunglasses on. “There’s not much to know, but I can try. I’m 19 years old, studying abroad in Spain, and grew up in Italy. I love the ocean, love a nice cup of hot chocolate - even though I’m allergic - so I only allow myself small sips during the winter. I like to pretend I know how to dance and I kill it in karaoke.” He laughs. You can’t dance? “Unfortunately, I can’t. Once, during my friend's wedding reception, I twirled right into her cake. I spent the entire day on supervision.”
“Dios mío…Remind me to watch out for you on our wedding day.”
Our wedding day. His words slightly sting as you pinch your nose swiftly. Standing up, you brush beads of sand off your legs. Your eyes roam the area before you find your father waving you over. “I should go,” you say as you look down at him. His brown eyes scan you before nodding and standing up. He, too, looks over to where your father waits to introduce you to a group of businessmen. He frowns and that's when you realize just how revealing your bikini might have been, only it's too late now.
“Papi always taught us to greet our elders.”
He clenches his jaw, eyes closing for a second. When his gaze meets yours, you almost choke with how dark and twisted it’s become. “Aren’t you too old to be calling him that?” Confused, you tilt your head.
“Calling him wh- Papi?”
He grinds his teeth together - and then just like that - he’s smiling again.
“Forget it. How would I know?”
-
Standing next to an empty table, you watch as Carlos and your sister dance along with everyone else. This party has allowed you to pick up on the fact that they seemed to be a much more important couple than you had anticipated. Everyone looked at the Spaniard as if he were a God himself - and being quite truthful - you would agree. There was nothing about him that wasn’t flawless.
Then, Ollie, just looked like any other person. Her eyes were bright, but any time anyone would walk up to him, her stare would become threatening. As if she was his owner and no one else could get close enough to breathe the same air.
Everyone here was older; that much you could tell. Attendees were accompanied by girlfriends or fiancée’s of their own. It made you feel a bit childish, since you clearly were the youngest one there. Reaching out for your margarita, you twirl the straw.
“Not having fun?”
Your attention directs itself to a dirty, blondish, brunette. He looks a bit tipsy, face flushed as he smiles sweetly. He’s tall, handsome. But not as much as Carlos.
“Max,” he introduces himself. Politely, you shake his hand. He points to the large group that dances on the sand. He lets out a croaky laugh. “They could get a bit much sometimes.” You laugh, nodding along with him. He continues talking to you. Brings up how he knows Carlos from driving with him; except he’s signed to Red Bull.
“Everyone here is invited only if they're a driver, huh?” It’s a lame joke, but he laughs and throws his head back as if it were the most fascinating thing he’s heard all night.
“It’s a small circle, but I promise, they're all nice lads.” Discreetly, he takes in your appearance. The way your black dress dances with the wind. Painted red nails glistening under the golden lights.
You were beautiful. Tragically, beautiful.
“You know the groom or the bride?”
“Bride.”
He nods, taking a sip of the beer bottle he had been nursing. You both continue your conversation for a while longer. He’s Dutch. Recently 26. You mention your headache before he brushes his fingers against your hand. Looking down, he pulls away before clearing his throat. He apologizes and asks if you would like to dance. A soft melody now plays and you find yourself taking his hand. It's big as yours disappears into it.
Almost as if he’s shy, he carefully slides his hands down to your waist. You giggle as you throw yours over his shoulders. “I hope slowing down helps get rid of your migraine. Sucks. I get lots of those during race weekends.”
“It is. Thank you for caring.”
He’s sweet. You can tell with the way he blushes when you mention the way you like his dimples. Slowly, you find yourself enjoying his company. You’re in the middle of laughing at some stupid joke he just told, when someone rudely clears their throat. Carlos’ smile appears bitter as he shakes his head.
“I’m sorry - I’ve probably killed the mood.”
“No problem, mate. We were just talking.”
He clicks his tongue before turning to you. Under his scrutiny, you feel as if you’ve just been caught smoking weed for the first time. Dazed, you hum, waiting for him to say something. You know it’s not your place to feel as if he owes you an apology, but you can’t help it.
“Ollie said it’s best if you went to bed.” You let out a sarcastic laugh. Since when does she care if I get a good night's rest? He huffs before running a hand through his hair. “She - she…Just do as you’re told, please.”
Now you’re bothered. Up until that point, you were actually having a good time. Dumbfounded, you turn to Max as he smiles understandingly. Pursing your lips, you apologize. Tippy toeing, you lean up to press a kiss against his stubble. He smiles.
“See you around?”
“See you around, Maxie.”
Walking into the lonely house, you let out a sigh as you pour yourself a cup of water. The summer heat had completely dehydrated you. You could still hear the soft beat playing from outside as you sway in the kitchen. You were upset - angry - that your sister had cut your night short. And any other time you would have put up a good fight, but thought it’d be best to not make a fool out of yourself. Especially in front of people you barely knew.
The door sliding open has you alert as you look up. Carlos silently makes his way in as he groans with exhaustion. Loopy eyes match yours as he clears his throat awkwardly. “So…What were you talking about with Max?”
“Nothing that should concern you.”
His jaw clenches, a large hand running along it. Stepping closer, he takes your cup of water before chugging it down. It leaves you hot and bothered just how close he is. It’s a mixture of salt and musk, his scent. It makes your head spin. Lazily, he takes a step back before nodding.
“Right. Have a good night.”
-
Carlos knew he had messed up. He had no right lying and saying Ollie had ordered for you to go to bed. That was completely him. It’s just that - seeing you with Max, laughing, smiling, made him seethe - when he knows damn well that he shouldn’t. It wasn’t like he was your boyfriend, after all.
So, he was embarrassed. He kept his distance. In his head it made sense. If you weren’t near then he wouldn’t feel the need to keep his eyes on you all the time. The house felt lonelier, colder without you sliding down the hallways. Rightfully so, you had spent your days locked up in your room. The only person that made happy was Ollie.
Either way, maybe it was for the best. He had a ton of shit to do. Starting with changing their honeymoon destination for what seemed like the millionth time that month. First, it was the Maldives, then Cancún - God - he knew that in a few hours his fiancée would come up with a new place.
“I know, I know we said that, but it’s changed.” He paces the office, stressed. “Can you please just make it fucking happen?”
“Ouch.”
Turning his attention, he sees you peeking at the entrance, phone still pressed up against his ear. Pouting, you enter, sweet aroma filling the room. Excusing himself, he ends the call. “Need anything?” He honestly cared for your response. It had been days without seeing you and he was afraid he blew it before he even had a chance to marry your sister. He told himself it was only because he cared for your relationship with Ollie. But fuck that - he knew not even you both cared that much about each other.
Shaking your head, you walk closer. “You sounded mean. Not a nice look on you, Mr. Sainz.” You’re teasing. You had to be.
“That wasn’t mean. It's called being straight forward.”
Ignoring him, you curiously eye the dark office. Books, trophies, helmets. Letting out a snort, you pick up the nearest picture frame. In it, it’s Carlos and Ollie, smiling wide. Tears brim her eyes as he looks down at her. The sight makes you want to puke.
“When was this taken?”
“The day of our engagement.”
You hum, already setting it back down. You can’t help but picture the impossible. That in the picture it was you instead of her, that you wore that diamond ring, that he looked at you.
Fuck her, honestly.
“Why’d you propose?”
He’s thrown off by your question. He’s expecting you to bring up the fact that it was a joke, but when you looked back for a response, he found himself with a dry mouth. Because I love her?
“Jesus,” you shudder, taking a seat on top of his desk. His eyes wander down your tan legs as you rest them on top of his chair. You're playing mind games - he’s well aware - and still he found himself following them. You were the worst temptation out there. It’s as if you knew the power you held. “I bet fucking her is a chore.”
Shocked at your words, he finds himself dumbstruck. He knew you two didn’t get along, but what the fuck happened for you to aim such insults?
He knows Ollie. Sure, she was a bit much at times, but she was nice. She was pretty. There was no need for your vile words.
You can tell he’s about to get defensive about her and that makes you shrink. Willing, you had handed him a reason to choose her over you.
Looking back at the picture, you purse your lips. “Sorry. That wasn't the right thing to say.”
“You should leave.”
You’re embarrassed over him kicking you out, but you knew you had crossed the line. So much for a peaceful afternoon. You comply, jumping off the desk. Not before making your way over, pressing your soft lips against his neck, which was the only place you could reach, even after tippy toeing. You felt him get stiff.
“Excuse my manners, Carlos.”
Skipping out the door, he’s left with a single thought.
He’s fucked.
-
The next morning, you’re forced to spend the day with your sister. Whether it was for running errands, fighting; it didn’t matter. As long as you made your father happy. All he wanted was for his girls to get along.
“Go,” Ollie growls as she hands you your bridesmaid dress. Snatching it from her, you slowly climb up the stairs to your room.
It’s a beautiful dress. Strong, dark, cherry red. Just like blood. It hugs your curves the way you’ve always thought all dresses should. For that reason, too, it made you look…older. Trying your best to get rid of the wrinkles, you smooth it down before making your way back.
Papi loves it as he starts throwing out compliments. You look beautiful, tesoro! You are a true gem. His eyes are bright and proud as you stand there with a shy smile. And though you thanked him, nothing else mattered but the man right in front of you.
The Spaniard had just gotten back from a meeting. He was exhausted and wanted nothing more than to eat and sleep the rest of the day, but as soon as he saw a balsé Ollie and an eager father-in-law, he was interested. She had told him to go relax; practically pushing him away. But as soon as you walked down those stairs, he swore his heart had never melted with such a sight.
His eyes became fixated to the point of no return. You stand there like a divine temptress. A siren who was mixed with innocence. Enough to drool over, but also, to adore from afar. Someone he could worship. If God decided this were his last day on Earth, then he would happily follow, since he finally felt as if his life were complete.
His big brown eyes are glued onto you as your father spins you. Ollie’s attention flickers between her younger sister and her fiancé. Tears fill up her eyes as she springs off the couch. You’re not bothered by it; don’t even bat an eye. That is until Carlos quickly runs off after her. That was a slap to the face as you show off a wounded smile to your father who stands there lost at the sudden commotion.
Later on that day, you find yourself trying to forget it all with watered down tequila. That’s really all you could find in such short notice. Leaning against the balcony, you study the soft waves, cold wind causing your skin to flash small goosebumps.
“Disgusting,” you mumble as you finish the rest of the alcoholic drink. Who knew a simple encounter would set you off?
“Woah there. Are you okay?”
Max cautiously steps closer as you shrug with a sigh. What was there to say? I’m a horrible person. I’m a horrible sister. And yes, we might not get along, but never in a million years did I think I would be falling in love with my future brother-in-law.
“What are you doing up so late?”
Sheepishly, he raises his cigarette. Letting out a low hum, you raise a brow. “Can I have one?” He knows he shouldn't be the one to give a teenager a form of drug, but you looked so upset, so drained, that he felt as if you needed it. Lighting it up, you bring it up to your lips as you squint at him. He laughs.
“First time?”
“No. It’s just been a while.”
You’re still not looking at him, but he notices the way you let out shaky breaths. The way you softly pinch your forearm. He frowns.
“I know we only just met, but do you want to talk about it?”
And maybe it was the gist of the moment. Or that he was being sweet - showing that he cared, but it worked because next thing you knew, you were kissing. He lets out an erotic moan with the taste of your lips. All a mix of cigarettes and tequila. This is wrong. He was friends with Carlos and you were only doing this in a moment of weakness, but you just couldn’t stop. Neither could he. Not when you tasted like a thousand crimes.
His large hands grab your ass as you gasp, brushing against his cock. He hissed as he pressed his lips much harder. Surely, you will have bruises tomorrow. Adrenaline rushes through your veins as you grind against him. Clumsily, you both make your way to the couch that’s nearby. Straddling him, you continue to dry humping. Slowly, but surely, the warm sensation between your legs starts to form. Panting, you pull away as he tries to angle his face closer to yours. You smile tauntingly.
“You know what you remind me of?”
You hum, leisurely picking up your filthy actions. He bites back a smile as he grips harder onto your hips.
“A Lolita.”
A menacing smile looks down at him before you kiss down his thick neck, soft bites being left behind. You can’t recall the moment you start bouncing on his cock, or when he sprawls you open like a map, kneeling down in front of you. It’s all a haze; a delicious one, too. You’re falling like a feather from your climax when you hear a thud. Did you hear that? No, he would mumble as he peppers kisses onto your soft skin.
The tides are crashing harder now, signaling that the night was growing older. Timidly, you share a goodbye as you start to skip your way back into your room, but one last thing caught your attention.
A broken flower pot on its side and dirt trailing into the Italian home.
-
More days had passed since your last encounter with the devilish Spaniard. If you were ever in the same room, he wouldn’t even glance at you. He would simply just walk past by. He was mad. Upset about something. You tried to think of what it might’ve been, but when he walked into his office with an infuriated expression, you decided it was time to call a truce.
Knocking, you flinch at his sharp tone when he commands you away. Ignoring it, you still step in. Head thrown against his chair, man spreading, he has his eyes screwed shut.
“Are you okay?”
Your tone is sticky like honey. It annoys him the way it strings him in. Drumming his finger against the large chair, he angles his head to look at you. You’re almost scared to ask again, so you decide to stand still until he speaks up.
“Why’d you do it?”
Puzzled, you purse your lips, waiting for further explanation. What was he talking about? Did you do something to make him upset? The thought alone made you feel queasy. When he notices you still don’t understand, he clicks his tongue.
“Why would you fuck a friend of mine?”
Oh. Was it possible that this was something he was jealous of? Bewildered, you know you can’t deny it so you start to word-vomit. I am so sorry, Carlos. He came onto me that night - he kissed me first. I was confused. I was lured in by his words. I didn’t know what I was doing-
His eyes soften up as you try your best to break it down. But you were a liar; a good one. You knew damn well it was all you. You had kissed him first. You threw him under the bus and you knew that. Did he deserve it? No. Of course not. But you couldn't handle the Spaniard being mad at you.
He signals for you to get closer. Securely, he grasps your hand and hauls you onto his lap. It’s embarrassing how wet you’ve suddenly become; how your mind replicates a plate of jello.
“I’m sorry he made you feel like that.”
His rough fingers slide up and down your arms and even that leaves you buzzing. Suddenly, you feel feeble. You assure him that you were fine - that it was no big deal. The way he looks at you is what gives you the confidence to lean in closer. A trace of panic slashes his face for a second. He should probably stop this before anything else happens. There was nothing okay about your ass pressed up against him. Or him craving to taste your plump lips.
“He didn’t make me feel anything I haven't before.”
Your implication irks him far too much, he starts to consider this all an unhealthy encounter. He can’t stop the images of you being with other men. Someone else kissing you, pleasuring you. Whilst your words were suggestive, your features were anything but that. Wide eyes stare back at him, slightly crinkled. Moving your body, you scoot closer as if you weren't already. He growls as he pinches your hip. Then, you're kissing his neck, and he should be pushing you off, but he’s too far gone to pick up on how wrong this all was. I’m sorry I’ve upset you, Mr. Sainz. I didn’t think you would care who fucked me or not.
“I-I don’t. It’s just that you shouldn't be doing stuff like that. You’re too young for all that.”
“That’s where you’re wrong.” You narrow your eyes. “I’m wiser than one might think. I’m mature enough to know who can and can’t fuck me the way I like.” Your gaze focuses extra hard with your confession. As if it were meant for him.
Pressing your ass one last time against his tight pants, you leap off, giggling.
“Take care, Carlos.”
-
It's a business dinner, your father fills you in as you sit nearby, enjoying a bowl of ice cream, hairollers dangling around your head. Pouting, you reach up to clip one back into place. He smiles.
“You know, lots of young, talented guys are going to be here. It could be a great opportunity to meet someone.”
You make a face at his idea. “Yeah. No, thank you.” Marching over to him, you gently pat his cheek. “I’m not here to meet anyone.”
Signhing, he grabs your hands. “Can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
“Are you and Carlos…” Choking on your own saliva, you push away. What? No. Of course not! Why would you even think that? He lets out a breath of relief. “It’s nothing. Ollie just brought it up, but I told her you would never actually do something like that. I know my precious girl.”
The door creaks open as Satan herself walks in, followed by an Angel. First thing you noticed are their intertwined hands. Ollie tries to be coy as she flashes the action right in front of you. She mainly greets your father as she sticks by Carlos like a piece of gum. Hello, he would say to you as you bite back a smile.
“What are we talking about?”
“Your sister might have a boyfriend by the end of the night, that's what,” your father jokes as you slap his shoulder. Boyfriend? The Spaniard’s eyes burn you, subtle threat evident. Ollie fakes a smile as she tugs him back a bit.
“Wow. You know what? That might actually be a good idea. Could help with how uptight you are. But I’m confused, boyfriend as in Max?”
Fury fills you as you shoot daggers right at her. Ollie’s eyes twinkle with satisfaction. You’re dating Max? “Of course not, papi! Ollie is just being a bitch.”
“No, no, no - I don’t think telling the truth is being a bitch. You should be happy, baby sister! You sure sounded like it when you let him fuck you out in the balcony.”
Shocked at her words, you can’t bring yourself to look at your father who stands disappointed. Ollie, that's enough, Carlos warns as he squeezes her hand. She yanks it away, jewelry clinging against each other.
“My bad. Shit, I forgot. I forgot no one knew what a slut you are. Opening your legs for any man around you. We’re lucky you’re not attracted to your own father.” She lets out a sour laugh. “Now, that would be fucked up.”
“That’s low, Ollie,” you spit, skin feeling as if it's on fire. You know where all this pent up anger is coming from, but she had no right to make up shit for fun. What kind of sister does that? Embarrassed, your eyes flicker to where Carlos stands with a hopeless expression. Licking your lips, you force yourself to walk away.
Slamming the door shut, you let out a loud scream. Why? Why was she always like this to you? A hard knock is what makes you wipe your tears away. Ollie slithers her way in. It hurt you how proud she looked. As if she had achieved something spectacular.
“The fuck - Are you crying?”
“What do you want?”
She takes a seat on your desk as she dusts off imaginary lint. “I just want to talk. The way sisters do.”
Ricocheting off the bed, you march over to her as you glare. “Sisters? No. You’re nothing of mine.” Ollie yawns as she rubs her eyes. Then, she clears her throat.
“Do you want to know why I hate you? You’re so stupid you probably don’t even know, but don’t worry - that’s what older sisters are for. I’ll explain it to you. Do you remember, Romeo?”
You do. It hits you all at once; the memories of the first man you ever slept with. He was nice - kind enough to teach you what a man likes. He had jet black hair, a smirk always lingering on his lips. He was tall and a local from where you grew up. He was the perfect experience.
But that still didn’t make any sense. What did he have to do with Ollie?
She lets out a wet laugh. Already, you can see her own tears as she tries to quickly wipe them away.
“I loved you; I did. You were my sister before my enemy. But I also loved him. He was my first love. Promised me a home high up in the hills. But do you know what it feels like to see someone you love fuck your little sister against a wall?”
We probably shouldn’t-
Don’t worry. I’ve got you. No ones going to see us. Men love a good thrill.
“You and him…”
She licks her chapped lips. “We had barely started dating.”
“I didn’t know - I swear to God, I didn’t know!”
If you had, you never would’ve looked his way. Ollie was everything to you growing up. You admired her. Loved her. That’s why it broke you when she started pushing you away as if you were some disease. Later, when your parents got a divorce, she didn’t second guess it when she made the decision to stay behind; causing you to leave with your mother. She never cared for you after that and you never knew why.
But now you did.
“I was young…Younger than I am now, how was I supposed to know?”
“Well, I’m glad we agree on something. You truly don’t know anything.” Strolling over to you, she smiles at your desperate state. “Which is why I’m not making the same mistake twice. Stay away from my husband.”
-
Ollie’s words felt as if they had opened up past scars. You meant what you said. Romeo would have been someone you would have disregarded if you had known the truth. But like always, you were the one with the entire blame and that you didn’t like.
Despite wearing a pretty dress - one that everyone gawked at you for - you felt ugly. Has it always been this way? Maybe it did make sense as to why she despised you. Playing with your bracelets, you try to pretend you’re interested in meeting your fathers investors. You feel completely exposed when they all stare straight at your chest area.
“How are we all doing?”
They all look up at the Spanirad as they start spitting out their congratulations for his upcoming wedding. He thanks them before checking up on you. His eyes connect with yours. Butterflies swirl inside your stomach as you smile weakly. He’s the first one to truly talk to you that night. To show he cares about your wellbeing rather than the way your dress fits you. Though, you looked stunning as always. Excusing yourself, you make your way into the kitchen, looking for something stronger.
Serving yourself a shot of vodka, you throw your head back, burning sensation sliding down your throat. Coughing, you grip onto the counter. Soft moans whisper in between the walls. You stop breathing for a minute as you try your best to identify where it might be coming from. Striding closer, you press your ear against the closet door. Fuck, a mans voice groans. This is not something you should intervene with, it's not your right, but that all changes when you hear a name that makes you burn all over again. So fucking tight, Ollie.
Pushing the door open, you see your sister banging one of your fathers investors. Ben, you think his name is. Honestly, you could care less. Briskly, she pushes her gown back down as he zips his pants. You let out a cold laugh as you clap in amusement.
“Oh, God. This is great. Amazing. You really outdid yourself, Ol.”
Stepping forwards, she grabs your arm harshly as she tugs you out. “How much did you see?”
You purse your lips as you theatrically scrunch your face up in pleasure. “Oh, Ben! Fuck me! Oh, oh, yes, baby, right there!” You bow. “That much.”
“How old are you, sweetheart?” The brunette says as he scans your body. Ollie glares at him as he steps back.
“Not a word of this to Carlos.”
“Why would I keep this a secret? He deserves to know. What do you think, Benny?”
Panicked, the older man shakes his head as his eyes plead for mercy. That’s enough. Raising your hands up in defense, you grin back at Ollie. “You’re not mentioning anything if you know what's good for you.”
“Oh, yeah?” You tilt your head back. “And what’s good for me?”
“If you tell him anything of what you just heard - saw - then I’ll just tell him how you’ve been bending over for every man in this house. Charles, Lando, Lewis, Pierre…you name it.”
“He won’t believe you…”
She laughs sinisterly. “No, I think he will. I mean…You’ve already done it before.”
“Hey,” his soft voice enters the room as you turn to look at him. The Spaniard’s eyes dance between you and your sister and Ben. “Is something wrong?”
Ollie shakes her head with a bright smile as she walks up and kisses him. You flinch. “Nothing, amor. We were just talking.” She runs her hands through his hair as his eyes remain on you.
“Are you okay?”
Nodding, you grind your teeth together. “Yes. Ollie was just introducing me to Ben.” Awkwardly, the man waves from behind you. Slowly, Carlos nods.
“Papi asked me to introduce them. You know - with the whole ‘boyfriend’ thing!”
“He was serious about tha- Oh. Okay.” He reaches down to take your sister's hand as he eyes you and Ben. “We should probably leave you two alone then.”
Hastily, you nod. “Sure.”
-
If you were willing to try and fix your relationship with Ollie before, then that was long gone. This is what you knew her for. A pretender. She wistfully makes everyone believe she’s some sort of saint, when really, she’s a wolf in sheep's clothing. She’s a hypocrite. She has a man that everyone desires and she does this?
You hated her.
You hated seeing the way she beams when Carlos’ mother gives her a necklace that belonged to her own mother. She didn’t deserve it. Or the way his sisters helped her slip in and out of her dress, making sure it's perfect for the big day.
Still, you try your best to be a supportive sister. Especially around the woman who raised a man like Carlos. Biting down on your lip, you take a sip of your champagne as Ollie disappears behind the curtains with the lady who is taking some last minute measurements. Reyes smiles warmly.
“We didn’t know Ollie had a younger sister.”
You smile. “Best well kept secret, right?” The older lady laughs. Your heart warms up as you notice it's the same way Carlos does. Ana and Blanca grin.
“Well, we’re glad to finally get to know you. Might I add, you’re beautiful. Those eyes!”
“Thank you,” you blush.
Ana takes a sip of her drink before clicking her fingers. “That’s what you remind me of! You - Carlos - almost have the same puppy eyes!” She turns to her mother. “Mamá! What’s that saying? Soulmates look alike…Something like that, no?”
“Be quiet, Ani,” Blanca hisses before smiling apologetically. “Excuse her - she can be a bit invasive.”
“No problem,” you reassure as you bite back a smile. Ana frowns.
“Lo siento, I don’t mean to come off as overbearing. It’s just that you do…”
Reyes clears her throat as she winks over at her daughter. “Don’t misunderstand us, please. We love Ollie, we do! It’s just…you’re different.” She examines you. “I like you.”
Their words stick with you like a post it. Do soulmates look alike? Playing with the sand, you circle your finger agonizingly slow. Why did their words matter so much to you?
“I always find you alone.”
You stick your tongue out at Carlos as he chuckles at your childish behavior. You pat the sand, inviting him to join you. What are you doing out here? You point at the ocean. “I told you it was my favorite place.”
“Ah. I see.”
You sneak in a quick look before looking straight ahead. “Nervous?”
“About?”
“Marrying a monster.”
He gives you a deadpan look, bumping his shoulder to yours. “She’s not that bad, you know.” He glances at you. “Ollie has been there for me through so much. Through my failures. Through my accomplishments. She’s the one who convinced me not to quit racing.”
“You were thinking of quitting?”
He nods. “It’s not as easy as it looks. It fucks you up mentally. But she…” He smiles. “She helped me overcome that. I thank her everyday for it.”
It’s a bittersweet feeling hearing him talk about her like that. On one hand, you’re thankful that she had made him realize that he should carry on doing what he loved. On the other, you knew her true reasons. She loved having a famous fiancé; someone she can brag out to the rest of the world.
Somewhere, far away, you hear a melody. It’s low enough that if you didn’t pay close attention, you wouldn’t catch on to it, but you did. You grab his hand, leading him to stand up. He quirks a full brow.
“Want to dance?”
“I thought you said you didn’t know how to.”
“Nice memory, old man.” You gently kick some sand towards him. “But I feel like dancing. Plus, you should be practicing.”
Tugging you closer, he hums. “Alright. Only because that's true.”
His hands feel warm against you - so much so - it feels as if he’s on fire. An ease comes to it, too, as you both sway under the moonlight. You giggle when he spins you, dress flying around you like petals. The way you grin makes his heart speed up in a way he’s never felt before. It’s alarming. He pinches your hip as you yelp.
“Mentirosa.”
“Wha- No, I’m not! Can’t dance to save my life.” Clumsily, you dig your toes into the sand. He winces playfully.
The air grows heavy the moment he brushes your hair behind your ear. Your eyes flutter shut as you lean against his warm hand. One look, and he’s hooked. It’s meant to be something lighthearted, but the way he wishes to feel your soft lips against his indicates that it’s not. He’s tried his best to see you for what you are; his fiancée’s little sister. Someone he shouldn’t find himself caring if they slept well, ate their three meals a day, or that they didn’t talk to any other man that wasn’t him or your father. This was sick and twisted and yet…
His lips meet yours as your eyes spring open for a nanosecond before letting yourself go under. It feels as if you’re exploding like firecrackers on a Fourth of July. Something about the way he cradles your face endearingly has your head spinning. Knees become weak, but his grip is secure. It’s better than you could have ever imagined. His tongue fights for dominance and when you don’t give it to him, he squeezes your ass. Moaning, you open your mouth and that's all it took. He kisses you the way you’ve seen in movies - only better. He’s hungry - desperate - for you as you smile against him. Biting down on his bottom lip, he groans as he kisses you harder than before. You were beginning to think your lips were about to snap.
Letting go, he stands there, staggered. He’s ashamed when he realizes that he regrets nothing. You both stay quiet; only waves crashing and heavy pants being heard. At first you think he’s going to apologize, and maybe that might have been the case, but no words would come out. Pressing a peck against his swollen lips, you smile.
“Goodnight, Carlos.”
-
Carlos rues the day that he kissed you because that only made things more complicated. He couldn’t find a way to not look for you when he walks into the garden, full of family and friends. Or the way he would want to punch Max when he made you laugh. But there is also something sweet. Like the way you would gossip with his sisters and share stories with his parents. He had never seen them laugh and smile so much, not even with Ollie.
He flinches at the cold hand that wraps around his own. Faking a smile, he presses a soft kiss on top of his fiancée’s head. Continuing the clicking against her glass, she smiles widely.
“Grazie a tutti per esservi uniti a noi!”
Everyone claps and a few of the drivers whistle. Rolling your eyes, you lean your head against your father’s shoulder. His heart skips a beat. Ollie continued her speech filled with thank you’s, thank you’s and more thank you’s. Your father kissed your cheek before making his way up to his eldest. Taking the microphone from Ollie, he starts to share warm felt memories about her. You have to admit, you’re jealous about their bond. Somewhere in the past, that had been viciously stolen from you. He notices the way you shrink with sadness and he finds himself about to walk over to you when Ollie laughs awkwardly. Amor. It’s your turn.
“Right.” Fixing his rolled up sleeves, he smiles at the crowd of guests. “Uh…Well like my fiancée said, we’re extremely happy to have you all here. It takes a lot to get this many people out here all at once.” A few laughs echo as he continues. “This means a lot to me, too, to have my friends and family. To have met new faces.” His gaze flickers past you as your breath hitches. “Many ask me what about Ollie made me fall in love with her…And I’m here to be as brutally honest as I could get. I love the way she makes me feel as crazy as the ocean. I could spend calm days with her and not worry about getting bored. Or I could find myself getting into trouble. Ollie has made me a better man. Because of her I know what true love is…” His loopy eyes meet yours. “True love are the waves that meet the shore.”
He lets out a sheepish smile. I want love like that, Lando yells out as he downs his glass of milk. Everyone claps and cheers and that’s where your nightmare begins.
Let’s give it up for the happy couple! Kiss, kiss, kiss!
The chants continue as Carlos let out a nervous laugh. That’s something private between me and her, he tries but finds himself being booed. Leaning down, he pulls Ollie in for a peck before pulling away with a tight lipped smile. He hates himself for his sudden realization.
Kissing her suddenly did feel like a chore.
With all the whoops and whistles being thrown out by friends, he finds himself trying to find you. It doesn’t take long as he notices you had picked up on your conversation with the Dutchman. His jaw clenches.
“Maybe Ollie’s younger sister would like to share a few words.”
Why would he say that? Frozen, you choke mid sip. Me? Your father beams as he nods excitedly. Oh! That’s such a great idea! Unfamiliar faces turn to look at you as they wait. Taking in a deep breath, you nod as you make your way over.
As he hands you the microphone, he can’t stop himself from grazing his fingers against your hand. Coughing, you yank it fast.
“Ciao a tutti.” Everyone greets you back as you lick your lips. You take a moment to figure out what to say, but there’s not much. Cringing, you try to come up with anything. “As some may know, I’m Ollie’s sister…And I could go on forever about how great she is-” You suppress a sarcastic laugh as Carlos knowingly winks. Your nerves ease up. “But I think I should talk about the man who makes my sister the happiest. Carlos Sainz…When I first met you, you seemed uptight - more than the Grinch - but slowly I got to know the man that even my papi swoons over.”
True, your father laughs. “You’re kind, respectful, and charming…Ollie is one very lucky girl. But there’s something also sensitive inside of you…Despite the permanent frown on your face, you still seem to like days by the ocean. Maybe it's a reminder that peace still exists or maybe it's the way…” Looking up, you see everyone staring deeply. Suddenly, you feel like this might be oversharing as you twirl your dress. “...Or maybe it's the way your face lights up when you take my sister dancing on the sand. Uh…Thank you for making her happy.” Handing the mic back to Carlos, you smile weakly at the strong claps.
“That was quite sentimental,” Max points out as you bite down on your finger. Was it too much? He shakes his head. “Don’t worry. It looks like you and Carlos get along well enough. I, for sure, thought he hated you with the way he looks at you.”
“Oh. Yeah.” You pause. “I thought so, too.”
-
Aside from the fact that the wedding was approaching quickly, the mansion was quiet. The silence can almost be heard; it's scary. Carefully, you fix your dress as you skip down the stairs barefoot, lollipop painting your lips red.
Peeking around the corner, giddiness fills your body as you snatch a handful of pre-washed cherries. Earlier that day, your father had scolded you for finishing the new batch. Popping them into your mouth, you hum a song as you kick your legs against the kitchen counter. It creeps you out the moment a chill runs down your spine. As if someone were watching.
“Boo!”
“Santa mierda,” you yelp as you clutch your heart. Laughing loudly, the Spaniard bends over as he gasps for air. You pout and kick his knee. “Cabrón, you scared me! Warn a girl!”
“Fuck - I’m sorry.” His lips form a thin line as he stands firm. Slowly, the corners lift up, wobbly at his poor attempt to not burst out laughing. You frown.
“You’re fucked up.”
Again, his laughs echo the dimly lit kitchen. “Can I have some?”
“No. They’re mine. Grab your own.”
He narrows his eyes. “Aren’t you on cherry prohibition or something like that?” You gasp as you look around before flipping him off.
“Keep your voice low or papi will disown me!”
He zips his lips as he whispers. “I won’t tell a soul. But I want one of those in exchange.”
Tapping your finger against your lip, you pretend to think about it before nodding. You extend your hand out, a single red cherry for him. You’re waiting for him to take it and leave to where he came from, but what he does instead has you swallowing a lump down your throat.
Crouching down, he opens his mouth as he picks up the cherry, lips slightly wrapping around your fingers. This was triggering you as you tried your best to keep sane. But there was no way of going about that when he looked up at you with deep, brown eyes. Licking the red juice sliding down your hands, he steps back. He licks his lips before swallowing. It amazes you the way his Adam’s Apple jumps up and down; thick neck begging to be sucked on.
“Fucking delicious.”
Blinking, you look down at the rest of the cherries in hand. All of a sudden they seemed like a sultry fruit rather than a drupe.
“Wouldn’t you agree?”
“Of cours-s-e.”
Stupefied, you throw the leftovers straight into the trash bin. You had no clue what made you do that. A small chuckle escapes past his lips as you shut your eyes in embarrassment. Maybe they weren’t as sweet as you made them seem. Too mortified to speak, you keep your eyes focused on the way your feet hit the wood as a distraction. It takes all of you to not run away as he steps closer once again.
“Is there something in that dirty little mind of yours?”
The room feels hot all of a sudden as you shake your head. There’s no words in your vocabulary when he stands this close. You can smell his cologne mixed with shampoo. If richness were a scent then this would definitely be it. His hands cage you in like a butterfly behind glass. Clicking his tongue, he steps aside as you let out a shaky breath. Taking the opportunity, you jump off the edge, bare feet slapping against the cold tiles. Cuidado, he mutters when you almost slip from the sudden action.
“If you need anything I’ll be upstairs.”
Not sure why you said that, but it seemed like a rationalized excuse. Por supuesto. And that would have been the end of your night. That would have been another successful day of not falling for the forbidden apple. You had held out for so long; the kiss didn’t count. But it only takes a few steps for him to clear his throat. Almost as if this were your secret language, you spin and you find him staring after you; dazzling eyes following your every movement as if he’s trying his best to decipher anything you do.
Smiling wide enough for your eyes to look as if they had a smile of their own, you think - fuck the consequences - as you clumsily run up to him; jumping like a kid onto a tree. Legs wrap around his torso and his hands hold you close to him.
“Do you-”
“Yes,” he whispers. “Since the first day you walked through those doors: yes.”
If you had thought you were obsessed with his kisses before, you were wrong. So very wrong. Because now you were addicted. He kisses you with urgency as you run your hands through his locks, so soft against your fingers. He grunts when you tug on it.
His kisses were stimulating enough for you to plead for something. Anything. Smirking, he pecks your nose before leading you both upstairs. It amazed you how he could continue kissing you as he hurried to get to the bedroom. Noticing him making his way into his and Ollie’s, you pull away. There’s no way you would let him do that. You spin your finger lazily through his hair.
“How about mine?”
He doesn't care if he fucked you against the floor, he needed you. Kicking the door shut, he throws you onto your bed as you squeal. He smiles fondly as you brush your hair out of your face. He’s had his fair share of girls. Models, nepo-babies, Ollie, but none of them compare to you.
He was almost scared of touching you again, even though that’s exactly what he wanted. Doe eyes stare back at him as his cock gets harder at the sight. Ollie had always tried her best to look at him that way, but you didn’t even have to try. It naturally happened. Nothing about this felt forced.
You look untouchable. Like a complete goddess waiting to be ruined. Carlos, you would say as you squeeze your tits, eyes struggling to stay open. Carlos, please. Don’t be mean. Towering over you, he shakes his head.
“Linda, I could never be mean to you.”
Slipping your dress off, he groans when he sees you weren’t wearing anything underneath. He shuts his eyes as he tries to not finish inside his pants, which by the way, were starting to hurt. He pinches your nipple before slapping your tits. You hiss.
“Please tell me you did this for me and no one else…”
“You know it’s always been for you.”
With that, he stands up as he yanks his shirt off; jeans and boxers following right after. A bit worried, you find yourself staring at his rock hard dick. You had never been with some as big as him; it kind of looked as if it would split you right open. That didn’t stop you from wanting it, though.
“Don’t worry. I’ll prepare you nice and good, cariño.”
His lustful tone snaps you out of it as you nod. His fingers rub your wet folds as you cling onto his bicep. C-Carlos. “I know, baby, I know,” he coos as he focuses on the way your face pinches. He slowly starts slipping his finger in as you gasp at the thickness. So big and long. He chuckles. “Oh, come on now. It’s not even fully inside of you yet.”
Stunned, you look down and sure enough, it isn’t. You almost cry out when you notice it’s barely even the tip. “I don’t think it’s going to fit.” He kisses your temple as he slips his finger back out.
“Let’s start off with something else then.”
You almost pass out when he angles himself in front of your pussy. Glistening clit stares back at him as he moans. So pretty, he thinks as he touches you slowly. He stops himself, though, as he goes in for kitten licks instead. You squirm. His large hands pushed you down against the bed, to keep you in place.
“Do you want me to make the ache in between your legs go away?”
“Yes.”
His pink tongue teases you as he hums. You bite down sharply. “You’re going to have to stay still. Relax, bonita.” Following instructions, you close your eyes, trying your best to not think of the handsome Spaniard. As if that were possible. Impressed, he leans in again as he licks you, picking up your pre-cum. Oh, fuck.
Then it’s almost as if Carlos is taken over by something as he dives in like some animal. His stubble burns your legs, but you’re too fucked out to even care. You’re sure you're being loud, but how can you not be when he licks and sticks his tongue inside of you, exploring places you never knew existed. You choke back a moan when he rubs his nose against your clit, only adding to the euphoria.
“Yes. Oh. Fuck, yes.” Looking down at the brunette, you find him taking in your appearance as he rubs himself against the sheets; a way to try and pleasure himself. And that’s enough for you to cum all over his face. He smiles as he greedily tries to drink up everything you give him. He knows he lost control, but he loves the way you were able to keep up. To take everything he gave you.
And that was only going to multiply.
“You taste so fucking sweet,” he groans in between your legs, picking up the white nectar. Crying out, you push his face away as you gasp for air. He sucks your tits as you take a break. His tongue swirls around your bud as you wiggle against him like a fish that jumped out onto land. He laughs. “Can you handle my fingers, now?”
No, you whisper as you push him away. But he knows you’re giving up too soon. He knows there’s an animal inside of you and he’s just waiting for it to decide to join him. He ignores you as he slides his fingers down to your center. You mewl against him. “Hey, hey, I got you, cariño. I’m right here.”
His voice makes you clench harder against his fingers as he grins like a kid at a candy store. Slowly, you start dripping more than before, making it easier for his fingers to slide in and out of your hole. Can you handle a third? “Yes,” you respond, eyes still screwed shut. Hot air hits your ear.
“There she is…Good girl. Justo asi.”
Picking up speed, his fingers reach the gummy part inside of you as you scratch his arms in an attempt to remind yourself to not black out. His long fingers cross, doing figure 8’s as he touches your g-spot as if he knows your entire body better than any map. Leaning up, he bites down onto your nipple before sucking hard. You should be embarrassed with the way you squeal and shake against his actions, but he just made it so hard not to. Much to your surprise, if you dare believe it, he does the thing you last expected.
He adds a fourth digit.
“No, no, no,” you pathetically chant as your eyes fly open. He cocks his head to he side as he clicks in tongue as if seeing you struggle filled him with pride.
“Ah, ah, ah. Just trust me; do you trust me?”
He didn’t need to ask because he knew you did. I do, you whimper out as you start grinding against his fingers. Amazement fills his dark eyes as he looks down to where you clench around him, juices sliding down his arm. It only takes a couple of more swirls before your shriek, velvety walls clenching around him as you reach your climax.
Bringing his fingers up to his mouth, he licks your cum as if it were a meal he’s dreamed of having his entire life. Your mouth hangs open as you watch him lick them clean. You’re sure he’s going to fuck you now, but that flies out the window as he lays down as he drags you onto his face.
This man had stamina. Lots of it. You're trying to beg for a break of some sort. I can suck your dick. Give you a handjob. Just please let me rest. But he wasn’t even listening.
Maybe somewhere deep down, he knew this would be the only night he would have you to himself and if that meant no pauses, then he would push all your buttons.
Like a starved man, he starts licking you all over as you grind against his face. The way he sucks on your clit and adds his fingers make you squeal as you push down harder. His nose rubs against you in such a way, it has you seeing stars. He seems to be enjoying that though, as his moans vibrate against you. Biting hard onto your lip, you try to distract yourself as you reach behind you for his rock hard cock. The moment your small hand wraps around him, he growls like a lion.
Smug over his reaction, your hand slowly starts jerking him off as he eats you out with more urgency. It takes all of you to control your actions as he shakes his face in between your legs. S-slow down, Carlos. He grunts as his actions speed up, but so does your hand. Gripping onto his erection much harder, you furrow your brows as you twist your wrist. Choking on your juices, he opens his eyes wide, whimpers flying past his lips.
Smiling down like the devil, you nod as your hand picks up its pace. Now it's his turn to be groaning with pleasure. He seems to have forgotten what he was doing as he takes in strong whiffs of your aroma. You shudder when his warm breaths escape to warm up your dripping pussy.
His cock twitches and he seems to snap right back into it; already diving back into your hole. Lurching forward, you grip onto his hair as the other remains wrapped around him. It’s a game to see who can make the other cum first, and you were not about to be the loser.
Lively, you circle your thumb around his pink tip as he groans and finishes all around your hand. Sucking hard, he bites gently onto your clit as you screech and trap his head between your thighs. Shaking, you twitch against him as you reach your third orgasm that night. Huffing, you roll off him as he laps his tongue.
The way he looks at you makes you want to ride his face all over again, but you know you needed a break if you didn’t want the night to end so soon. Kneeling in front of him, you raise your ass up high as you lean down to wrap your lips around his cock. He flinches, slightly sensitive, but doesn’t dare push you away. Instead, he rubs your face with his calloused thumb; encouraging you. There's something so hot about the way your lips stretch around his fat cock. The way drool exits your mouth, messy blots of mascaras on the corners of your eyes.
Light of my life. Fire of my loins.
Gagging around him, you squeeze your eyes shut, feet curling up along the way. For sure, your throat would be bruised tomorrow, but you didn’t mind. In fact, you wanted that. Deepthroating him as best as you can, your small hands wrap around the rest of his length. He was huge. Dirty slurps bounce off the walls. You try your best to not pull away when you feel his sticky pre-cum connect inside your throat. Not when he looked so good with his head thrown back. His thick neck is a clear display. With his large hands wrapped around your hair as he fucks your face like theres no tomorrow. Spanish curses flowing past his lips.
“Que linda. Arrodillada como una santa.”
When you giggle around his erection, he groans, head thudding against the headboard. His mind quickly slips over to Ollie - but not in the way one might expect. It hits him like a truck when he compares her to you. With Ollie, she would last at least 20 minutes before calling it a night. He pretended not to mind - he would never force her to do something she doesn’t want to, of course - but once she would knock out, his large hand would slide down past his boxers, looking for a new release.
Then there’s you, ever so pretty. It seems like with everything you do, you want more. You sucking him off as if you’ve done this for him a lifetime ago. Sure, you’re struggling, but that only makes him harder. You’re trying to keep up with him and it’s working. Now, it’s like he’s the one trying to keep up. Swallowing, your throat closes around him as he flies forward, voice cracking as he presses for more.
Glossy eyes look back up at him as you repeat your action. With one last blow, he pulls out as he cums all over your face. His dick immediately gets hard again when you smile wide, fingers going to pick up his mess. Greedily, you pout as you wrap your lips around your finger like the lollipop you had been sucking on a few hours ago.
“Fuck,” he mumbles, abs contracting together as he tries his best to even out his breaths.
“Will you fuck me now?”
You’re moving at a snail's pace as you lick his sweaty neck. A chill runs down his spine with the feeling of your warm tongue. Grinding slowly against his thigh, you throw your head back with pleasure, wet lips rubbing against him. He smiles.
“You’re a dirty girl, you know that?”
“I thought that’s what you liked about me, papi.”
In a flash, he flips you onto your back as he hovers over you like a giant. A beautiful, beautiful, giant. His large muscles he works so hard for stare back at you as you admire with an open mouth. It looks as if he could carry mountains on his shoulders. Dilated pupils admire you as you let out a pathetic whimper. Long gone were his brown eyes as they now appear completely black. Sensual.
“Then you should be fucked as such.”
With that, he swings your tan legs over his broad shoulders, practically bending you like a pretzel. You pat yourself on the back for all those pilate classes. Jerking himself off a bit, he looks straight at you, making sure this was something you wanted. The way you bat your cartoon eyes is all he needs to slip inside of you.
First thing he notices is how tight you are despite him already stretching you out to perfection. Raw moans leave both your lips as you try your best to adjust to his size. You had been with men before - that’s all you really knew - but no one’s cock had ever made you burn with such satisfaction. More than satisfaction. He’s reassuring you with his words in order for you to relax.
I’ve got you, preciosa. Just let go for me. I’m right here.
Still, you can’t help but squirm underneath him. His fingers make their way to your mouth as you stare back confused. Suck, he commands before forcing them in. Caught off guard, you gag around them for a bit before your tongue begins to twirl around them. Your cheeks burn up as you hear your low mewls. Ah- ah- ah, you cry out against his digits as he grins down at you. Retracting them, he slides them down to your clit as he starts rubbing small circles.
“Oh God.”
Instantly, you open up against his tired cock as he hums. There you go, he praises as you make it easier for him to thrust into you. You should both be ashamed of the way gushy sounds bloom from your mixed cum. Or the way he pounds into you so hard and fast that it has you sliding further back against the bed, hair tangling along the way. His fingers dig into your calves as he holds them in place.
“Mierda,” he wheezes as he throws his head back, ripping his eyes away from the way your puffy clit envelopes around him. Pants and whimpers escape you as you arch your back from the fulfillment.
Carlos is a man - you know that - but in this moment; right now: he’s proving it the way a scientist would their hypothesis. His cock brushes against your g-spot as you gasp at the sensation. He’s looking at you as if you held the key to all secrets.
The keys for the gate to Heaven.
Though he knows that this all feels like Heaven, he deserves nothing but Hell for cheating on Ollie. But that’s the least of his worries.
“Does that feel good, bonita?”
Wide eyes look up at him desperately as you nod to the point where your neck starts to ache. Yes - Oh God, yes. So good, Carlitos. Yeah, baby - right there. Snapping his hips harder against you, your mind goes foggy with the way his hair flops around him. Sweat causing long strands to stick to his face. Beads of sweat drip down your legs as he presses sloppy kisses. His cheeks look as if he’s been out in the sun for hours.
In this moment; he looked immortal.
“Carlos, I’m gonna-”
“Hold it.”
Like a doll, you flop back against the bed as you start to leak acid. No - please. Don’t ask me to do that. Feeling a sharp sting, you gasp. His hands dives back in to massage your cheek after slapping you. He cocks his head with fake sympathy. “I know you can do it,” - thrust - “Wait for me, yeah?”
You have no word as you wail - tits bouncing with every assault from his hip. Your stomach burns with the way his abs glisten, with the way his bottom lip juts out, or the way his muscles shine with a layer of sweat as they hug your legs like a teddy bear.
He was yours. In this moment, he was yours.
“Alright, linda-” He brushes your hair out of your face as he wipes your sweat with his hand. “Cum for me?”
It’s an out of body experience the moment you squirt around his dick - the way your tummy feels like it's on fire. Sore groans leave his lips as he finishes inside of you, brown eyes trained on the way you gush around him. He freezes in place at the feeling. You squirm for a few seconds below falling limp against the bed. The room smells like nothing but filthy sex.
Pulling out of you, he carefully places your legs back down before kissing your ribs. Then your bruised tits. Then your cheeks, forehead, and lastly, your lips that taste like home. Sighing against him, you try your best to remember the way he kisses you as if you're the only form of oxygen that exists. As if this were a dystopian world and you were the only source of survival.
He pecks your lips once more before brushing his fingers against your temple. “Get some sleep.” Yawning, you nod as your eyes flutter like a butterfly's wings. Will you stay? And he doesn’t know what takes over him when he says-
“I will.”
-
When you wake up you notice it’s still dark out. The moon shines, eyes flickering around, looking for the Spaniard. You let out a low breath of relief when you see him sitting on the edge of the bed.
“Ollie,” he whispers into the phone as he runs a hand against his jaw. “...I made a mistake.”
Your heart stops with his words. He makes sure to speak low, thinking you're sound asleep. She - I - it was a mistake. She’s just a kid…Fuck. She’s just a child. Your heart shatters with the evident blame in his voice. You weren’t a kid. Sniffling, you stop breathing when you realize you’re crying. He pauses for a moment before standing up and making sure you’re okay. Bringing the phone up against his ear, he shakes, already walking out the door.
“Where are you? Let me just see you, amor. I’ll explain it all.”
-
There’s a saying that goes: You know, a heart can be broken, but it keeps on beating, just the same.
You would personally like to punch that person in the face. It’s not true. It doesn’t beat the same - because then why does it hurt everytime it pounds against your chest? Why is it hard to breath when the priest says-
“You may now kiss the bride!”
Everyone’s faces are blurry; cheers sound far away. You can’t be too sure you're standing upright as your father beams at the sight of Ollie pressing her lips up against Carlos. The way his hands slide down to her waist as shows her off proudly like some champion ring is what hurts the most. You feel flames all over your skin, letting out a flinch when your fathers signals for you to clap, too.
You don’t know what happened after that night. Whether Ollie forgave him or not - though clearly she had. Maybe she didn’t know about you the same way he didn’t know about Ben. This was all starting to feel like some nightmare. But it’s very much real life with the way the newlyweds hold hands, smiling brightly as guests throw a mixture of confetti and baby breath.
“Nice ceremony.”
“What? Oh.” You shrug towards Max as he points over at the couple. “Y-yeah. It was…”
He goes over his next words for a moment because Lord knows that if he has it all wrong then he would appear to be the biggest jerk to ever exist. “You fell in love with him, didn’t you?”
“I-I-I’m not sure I understand,” you trample over your words as your cheeks burn the same color of your red dress. He shares a small smile.
“It’s okay. I won’t tell anyone.”
Walking away, you’re left alone, second guessing everything. The violin seemed too happy. The guests seemed too bright. All of this was fake, couldn’t they see? Pursing your lips, you try your best to hide your broken heart as you catch up with old friends. How is college? How does it feel like having a brother-in-law who drives for Formula 1? Must feel pretty great, right?
The night is boring. Half of it you spend faking smiles and the other you spend trying to avoid the Spaniard. Life was better back in Spain, where ironically, he was never around despite it being his home country. You’re in the middle of conversing with the Dutchman - who quite frankly is an honest listener - when Ollie walks up looking like a ball of whipped cream. Can I talk to my sister alone, please? Max’s concerned eyes ask if you’re okay with that as you nod. Slumping away, he squeezes your knee one last time.
Blue Velvet plays as she fixes herself onto the stool right next to you. “Have you tried the cocktails? They have cherry flavored; your favorite.” Something about her sweet voice makes you unsteady as you raise a brow. She shows off her veneers. “This is weird. Sorry. I’m just so…happy.”
“Good to know.”
“But enough about me!” She places her left hand over yours, shiny rock sitting perfectly. You wince. “I want to talk about you! How’s school?”
“Like you care.”
She pouts. “I do now…” You furrow your brows. What do you mean now? She gasps. “Oh, you poor thing! You don’t know I know!” Your stomach drops. “Well, you know, as your older sister, I’m also your guardian since our mother is too fucked up to look after you…And a little birdie filled me in on your reputation back in Spain.” She giggles as she takes a sip of your drink. “Doesn’t surprise me, though. It only makes sense that you keep messing around with men old enough to be your father. You always had a thing for those.”
“What does this have to do with anything?”
Ollie grins ear to ear when she notices how annoyed you’ve become. “Carlos told you he was born in Madrid, right? Okay, well, he also has a whole bloodline there. And let’s just say, a cousin of his - my goodness, his daughters are beautiful - is a professor at your Uni.”
No.
“And well this birdie also told me how you’ve been sneaking in and out of his lecture room, late at night. And I wonder…What have you and him been doing behind closed doors?”
It can’t be.
Professor Vázquez de Castro, he says as he extends his hand out, eyes roaming every inch of your body.
Suddenly, the name sounds familiar. The surname is Carlos’ extended one. Ollie’s eyes shine. “I see it’s clicking.”
“What do you want from me?”
“I want you to leave me and my husband alone. I want you to grab your things and leave. Don’t look back; just leave. Don’t contact papi ever again. I don’t want to hear a single thing from you. It’s bad enough you’ve already fucked my spouse.”
She knows. He told her. And they still got married.
“Ollie, don’t…”
Tugging your hand harshly, she slaps her phone on it. And you don’t know how, but in it, it’s a video of you riding your Professor - Carlos’ cousin.
“Leave or I’ll show this to him. Your choice.”
Wet sobs leave your mouth as you shake your head in disbelief. How did this happen? Who took this video?
“Ollie, please…I love him.”
Her gaze sharpens as she takes the phone back and stands up. “You know what to do.”
Bringing your shaky hand up to your lips, you stare in shock. Wobbly legs walk past Max as he asks if you’re okay. One last smile looks back at him before you brush past by.
Carlos is craning his neck, looking for you. He had confessed that night, but so had Ollie. He was breaking off the engagement. Spilling apologies as she cried against his chest. Despite it all, he still cared for your sister. But he knew it wasn’t going to work out. He was ready to leave when she brought up the tape of you and a cousin he didn’t even know he had. I’ll get her expelled. Don’t do this, Carlos. And so he stayed. He knew how much you loved school, regardless of what others might think. I just want to help others, you swooned one day by the pool. It’s what I wish someone had done for me.
You get to him before he spots you as you tap on his shoulder. He fills up with worry when he sees your red brimmed eyes. Sheepishly, you take his handkerchief as you wipe your rosy nose. What happened? Who made you cry? You shrug.
“Carlos…I love you.” He blinks. You let out a wet laugh as you lean up to kiss him. You didn’t care who saw anymore. This was it. He doesn’t seem to care either as his hands wrap around your waist. Holding you close, as if you might vanish into thin air. He was the waves, you were the shore. Pulling away, you wink. “Save me a dance, yeah?”
Then, you’re walking away. Becoming smaller as you stroll over to the Italian house. Clutching his chest, he chokes: I-I…I.
“Carlos!”
Turning to face Ollie, he sees her waving him over to the giant cake.
“Coming.”
-
Running into the quiet house, he calls your name. He looks behind every door, hoping to find the girl in red. Stumbling up the stairs, he swings your door open. He breathes heavily when he doesn’t find you, even here. Panicked, he grips his hair in despair. Only then, does it occur to him to open the restroom door, hoping to not scare you.
“¿Bonita?”
Silence. He still pushes it open as he carefully walks in, finding no harm in checking. And why? Why couldn’t he be as truthful like you were? Risk it the way you would have willingly done. Why did he let you walk into the house alone?
Falling to his knees, he desperately crawls over to your lifeless body, dark blood flowing from your wrists.
As red as your dress.
He must be dreaming. This can’t be real. Surely, it can’t.
“No, no, no.” He drags your limp body into his arms. He can’t even pinpoint the moment his tears flow down his face. “Bonita, no. No. No. No.” The Spaniard cradles your colorless face into his hands. He gently taps your face a few times, but almost stops breathing himself when it only rolls back. Blood stains his white shirt. “Hey, hey. C’mon, please. You want me to say it?” Hurriedly, he picks up your head as he kisses your lips over and over. He winces when he feels how chapped they’ve become.
“It doesn’t feel forced. I’m not saying it because I think it’s what you want to hear - I love you. I do. I love you as infinite as the ocean. I love the way you laugh, the way you trip over anything in your way, the way you say my name…I love you.”
But he knew you weren’t listening. Not anymore.
A piece of him died that day along with you. After that, life was a sickening blur. He’s out of it the moment he hears your father yelling out in agony or when Ollie screams at the gruesome scene.
None of it mattered anymore.
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everything.
ln x fem!reader
in which you’re his best friend until you’re something more
hi! here you go lmao. probs the fluffiest thing i’ve ever written and i am obsessed with the concept! thank you for being here and baring with me - i loved writing this one and i’d love to hear what you think! huge shoutout to my girlies @mcmuppet and @lavenderlando ily both!
songs that set the mood: pink and white by frank ocean, daylight by harry styles, angel by finneas, enchanted by taylor swift, hate to be lame by lizzy mcalpine
warnings: 18+!! minors dni!! smut, language, friends to lovers brain rot, slight corruption kink, readers first time, qatar angst
6.4k words
“do you wanna talk about it?” you whispered softly, your hand resting on lando’s sagged shoulder.
your eyes were fixed on the third place plaque on his table in front of you, his very much fixed on the floor.
“no.” his reply was short and sweet, his tone conveying exactly how deflated he was.
you’d only flown in to qatar this morning, the october sun hitting you hard as you walked into the paddock, drastically different to the london climate you’d grown accustomed to. lando had all but begged you to come, your evening before spent on the phone, and you knew that he needed a friend, otherwise he never would have asked you to fly halfway around the world.
friends. that’s what you were.
you’d hugged him tight and told him that the weekend had to get better, and then his teammate put it on pole and got his first win. so, yeah, maybe it wasn’t going to get better and not even the podium could cheer him up.
his radio messages had hurt your heart, your chest aching as he self deprecated in the cockpit. he owned his mistakes, sure, but he’d taken it a step too far and you knew you had a job to do. you’d do anything, quite literally anything, to cheer him up.
you’d always found a way to be there for eachother, your friendship spanning five long years after you’d knocked a coffee over a guy you quickly recognised as the new mclaren driver. both nineteen and awkward as hell, you’d um-ed and er-ed and danced around one another in the busy pret in central london, chucking tissues at him, attempting to mop up the frothy mess all over his white sweatshirt.
eventually you’d just burst into laughter, lando immediately following suit. your cheeks were hurting from smiling at the curly haired stranger, intrigued by the very way his faced moved when he laughed, and he’d looked at you like you hung the stars in the sky, not like someone that had just destroyed a brand new hoodie.
and just like that, a connection was born.
you’d gotten used to having a friend for only half the year, but he never let you feel the distance. paddock passes often fell through your letter box and you could usually be located in the background of his streams when he was home long enough to do them, the amount of times you’d been wrongfully accused of being his girlfriend a list as long as your arm. even in those moments of awkwardness, friendship prevailed and you both managed to crack up together about the conspiracy that you were more than friends.
and what an intriguing conspiracy it was.
“we should get you back to the hotel, you need to get some rest.” you told him, standing from the sofa and offering him your hand.
lando grabbed it, squeezing, his own special way of telling you he was grateful for your presence, and let you pull him up. as he tried to walk towards the door, you stopped him, hands on his shoulders. you wanted to shake him, tell him how fucking great he was. you didn’t think he’d appreciate that after an intense session in the car.
“hey, look at me. you got this, okay?” you smiled reassuringly, managing to get the smallest crack back from him, his lips upturning ever so slightly. something in his eyes told you that you’d succeeded, a small glimmer of an emotion that you didn’t know how to unpack.
friends.
that’s what you were.
-
you tried to ignore how touchy lando was being. you figured he just needed some comfort, physical touch not out of bounds in your friendship, but a new level had been reached.
on the entire walk through the paddock to his car, his hand sat comfortably on the small of your back, despite the endless amount of cameras pointed at you. his hand skimmed your thigh in the car, accidentally, you told yourself, and you had to avert your eyes when his hand graced your headrest as he reversed out of the parking space. knowing that he needed you in qatar so desperately that he’d flown you out was one thing, the way he was treating you once you got there was something else.
he’d opened your door when you pulled up at the hotel valet, helping you out of the car, his hand tucked in yours for a second longer than necessary. once again, his hand seemed to be glued to your lower back the whole way to the elevator.
the ding of the lift had you both shuffling out onto your floor, trailing towards your rooms in a heavy silence, something more left unsaid in the air.
you reached your door first, coming to a stop and shuffling around in your bag for your keycard.
“um, i need to be at the track early tomorrow. breakfast?” lando asked.
you turned to look at him, nodding your head profusely.
“of course, just drop me a message and i’ll come down and meet you.” you affirmed, your fingers finally grasping the piece of plastic that had, of course, fallen to the very bottom of your tardis of a tote bag.
you expected him to leave, but he lingered, as if there was something else on his mind.
“you okay?” you raised an eyebrow, unlocking your door. lando seemed to snap out of it then, awkwardly running a hand through his curls that had taken a brutal hit from the humidity. you liked the look on him, nonetheless.
“yeah, i- yeah, i think i just need some sleep.”
“okay, well, goodnight. let me know if you need anything.” you disappeared through the door then, the tension getting the better of you. you slumped against the shut door, wondering what he so clearly wanted to say.
-
the clock read 1:32am on your bedside.
a faint tapping had woken you up, and you groggily scanned the room, trying to find the source of the noise. you deduced that it was coming from your door, letting out a groan as you threw the cosy comforter off and trudged towards the disturbance.
you cracked it open, peeking through the gap and coming face to face with your best friend.
“lando?” you croaked, opening the door further.
“i’m sorry, can’t sleep. can i come in? it’s okay if not, i just didn’t know what to do.” he sounded so shy, something you didn’t recognise in the man stood before you, and you quickly swung the door open, ushering him inside.
“come, sit.” you waved for him to follow you across the room to the foot of your bed. he sat down beside you, the mattress dipping.
you patted your lap and he instantly knew what to do, laying down with his head in your lap. it’s something he did quite frequently when you were sprawled on his sofa at home, watching a shitty movie that neither of you were really paying attention to. you’d often be looking at him, praying he didn’t notice, and he’d be playing with your fingers, tracing the palm of your hand.
you couldn’t help yourself, running your hand through his curls. you didn’t mean to, stomach instantly twisting with embarrassment, but it was quickly twisting with something else. his eyes fluttered shut, a low groan falling from the back of his throat. it made your thighs clench, and he must have noticed, the tiniest smirk on his face.
“you okay?” lando asked, his eyes still shut, a look of relaxation finally on his face.
you coughed awkwardly.
“yeah, sorry. are you comfy?” you said teasingly, trying to cut the growing tension in the room.
“i am now, could fall asleep here.”
“you can, you know.” you whispered. his eyes flew open. your heart was hammering in your chest. this was new territory and you were worried you’d fucked up. sleepovers were also a norm, but one of you usually retired to a guest room, not the other side of eachothers beds.
“you want me to stay?” his voice rose in surprise.
“well, i mean, you can if you want, like, there’s space and-“ you rambled.
“do you want me to stay?” he repeated.
“is it gonna help?” you questioned cautiously.
“yes.” the confidence in which he replied did something to you.
“then stay.”
you crawled up the mattress, falling back into the place you’d so comfortably occupied just minutes before. you laid so still, watching with quiet curiosity as he slipped his hoodie off. his shirt came with it ever so slightly, riding up over his back, and you had to pry your eyes away, the ache between your thighs still ever present.
what on earth were you doing, allowing your best friend to crawl into bed with you? emotions were running so high, but it felt like a switch had been flipped ever since you hit the tarmac in qatar. every look, every touch was fuelled by something different to what it had been before and you weren’t sure if it was a good thing or not.
lando turned towards you, making his way back over to the bed. he looked apprehensive, as if he was thinking the same thoughts as you, wondering if there was any logic in what was about to happen. he seemed to come to the conclusion that this was, in fact, happening, crawling into bed beside you.
“is this okay?” lando breathed into the darkness of the room, his hand brushing yours. you were both as still as planks, mere centimetres separating you, the only light coming from the lamp beside the bed.
“yeah,” you took a deep breath, preparing for the words that were about to come tumbling out. “i’ve just never done this before.” you spoke quickly, sucking in another breath as you finished.
“you’ve never…”
“i’ve never shared a bed… like this.”
“like what?”
“with a… a guy?” your anxiety riddled words came out more like a question than an answer.
“oh. oh.” it seemed to dawn on lando then. “so, you’ve never… oh. i mean i can go if you’re uncomfortable.”
“lando, no, i just wanted you to know. i’m always comfortable with you.” you said, quietly baring your soul to him.
you weren’t sure why you’d basically told him you were a virgin. it held no relevance, he was just here to sleep, for some friendly comfort. he was not here for any other reason. and yet here you were, spilling the beans, all over the bed you found yourself sharing.
“i didn’t come here to, you know. i just needed you.”
you tried to ignore the pang in your chest and the annoying, minuscule butterfly springing to life in your belly.
“god, yeah i know! i didn’t think that you wanted to, well i mean not with me because why would you want me like that anyway, i get why you’re here, lando.” you rambled into the empty air. you heard yourself, groaning in embarrassment and dragging the cover over your face. lando laughed, pulling it back so he could see you again.
he was leaning over you, perched on his side, resting on his elbow.
“trust me, i’m more than happy with any part of yourself that you wanna give me.”
“don’t tease me, lando.” you scoffed. he was joking, right? right?
“i’m not! i promise, this is the one place i want to be.”
“why? why with me? i mean you could’ve called max. all he does is stream when you’re not home, think he misses you.” you were half joking, half deadly serious.
“come on, it’s you. it’s just… its been so hard this year, being away from you so much more. and then you came all the way here…” lando trailed off, averting eye contact.
you turned on your side to face him, placing your hand over his affectionately.
“you needed me.”
“exactly. i needed you. you.”
he gave you a look, one that you didn’t recognise, but you understood what it meant. it said more than anything had done since this confusingly beautiful interaction began. you got it, then, why you were here.
“lando-“
“i know that i shouldn’t tell you this and i can’t just spring this on you in the middle of the night, but i-“
“lando!”
“what?”
“kiss me.”
and god, he kissed you. the air was sucked out of your lungs, dragged out of you by the way he put his hands on your body, so urgent.
you sunk back into the mattress, his body over yours, a hand cupping your cheek while the other rested on your waist, stroking the skin there, exposed from your ridden up top. your hands were in his curls, and you revelled in the way that you could shamelessly touch them now.
he paused for a second, nose brushing yours, breathless and grinning down at you, a knowing smile that was so beautiful that it rendered you speechless.
“you have no idea how long i’ve waited for this.” lando breathed, scanning your face as if he was trying to take it all in. you, panting beneath him, coy smile, cheeks flushed. you’d never looked so gorgeous to him.
you leaned in to kiss him again, slower this time, relishing in the moment. you were lost in him, thinking back to the very first time you’d locked eyes and how you never thought it would come to this. this, the way he was holding you, was the best surprise.
lando pulled away, peppering your flushed cheeks with kisses, a dazed giggle passing your swollen lips.
he flopped onto his side, grinning at the ceiling mindlessly. you hadn’t seen him smile that big all weekend.
“are you tired?” you whispered, lips brushing his cheek, his light stubble rough against you. you wondered how it would feel elsewhere, scratching over your bare skin.
“no.”
“then why did you stop?” you asked, the words falling off your tongue slowly, sinking all over him like honey. you felt the way he tensed up, the suggestion that laced the seemingly innocent question making you tingle.
“i didn’t come here for that.” he reiterated.
“and i didn’t let you in for that. but here we are.” you weren’t ashamed of what you were asking, the moment was right, the one, and you knew it.
“it’s too soon.” lando was apprehensive. he was always overly protective of you, previously as his friend, but this, god, this was an entirely different ball park and he was proceeding with caution, against every natural instinct in his body screaming at him.
“says who?”
“it’s your first. it needs to be special.”
“everything about this is better than i could have ever imagined.”
“are you sure you want it to be me?” there it was again, those unrecognisable nerves that made everything inside of you flutter.
“lando, there is no one else i could ever want to do this with more than i want to do it with you. i want it to be you.”
“but… now? are you sure? i don’t want you to regret this.”
“the only thing i regret is that this didn’t happen sooner.”
“one last time. i just need to hear it one last time.”
“i want you, lando.”
and with that, the air changed, charged with a different kind of tension. lando pulled you on top of him, hands firm on your body, the action itself gentle. you steadied yourself, hands on his shoulders, his resting on your waist.
“can i take this off?” he tugged at the hem of your shirt. you nodded profusely. “words, sweetheart. i need you to use your words.” lando cupped your jaw as he said it, squeezing ever so slightly, enough to turn you into putty in his hands.
“please. yes.” you said shakily.
he smiled softly, slowly peeling the material off of your body, up over your head and tossed carelessly onto the floor. he kept his eyes on yours, despite the fact you were now left bare, aside from the white cotton panties that separated you both. he pawed at your sides, kneading gently at your soft hips.
“we’re gonna start slow, okay? gonna take my time with you.” he muttered, eyes on yours before they trailed slowly down, across your face, neck, collarbone, further and further until he was taking all of you in. he began to stroke the underside of your breast with his thumb, watching the way your body tensed under his feather-like touch.
“okay.” you choked out, head tipping back as he placed a kiss to the base of your throat.
his kiss trailed further down your body, peppered in the valley of your breasts, and then you stopped breathing, the air caught in your throat because he was looking at you, really, truly looking at you, as his tongue found your nipple. you couldn’t take your eyes off of him, not when he was looking at you like that, not when he was making you feel this good already.
lando pulled away, just for a second, just so that he could shift you from his lap onto his thigh. he was still fully clothed beneath you, totally in control, and you craved him in a way you didn’t know was humanly possible, so much so that you didn’t need the encouragement he was giving you to start rolling your hips, pussy grinding down on his covered thighs, the friction of your underwear driving you insane.
“oh, baby. you want me so badly, don’t you? should’ve asked me sooner. m’gonna make you feel so good.” his hands were on your hips, guiding you backwards and forwards on him.
“it feels so- oh, god.” you whimpered, fingers tangling in his curls, back arching further into him as your thighs clenched around his. he licked over your collarbone oh so slowly, a shiver running down your taut spine.
and then he was kissing you again, tongue slow over yours, his fingertips surely leaving marks where he was controlling your pace. the kiss was filthy, untameable, and you found yourself dragging against him slower, harder.
“i need you.” you panted, forehead falling on his shoulder as you pulled away from his lips, goosebumps pricking your sweat slicked skin. you were so close to an orgasm, desperate to feel him everywhere.
“i want you to come for me like this first, okay? can you do that for me, baby?” he cooed, bouncing his leg ever so slightly. “look at me.” and you did, somehow mustering the strength to pull yourself back up and find his darkened eyes.
you were a mess of curses when you let go, your body convulsing, collapsing into him as you came. you were throbbing on his thigh, one glance down at where you were grinding against him displaying your slick. his arms went around your body, flipping you onto your back so that you were resting against the mattress.
“you did so well, baby.” lando crooned, resting over you on his forearms. you stared up at him in awe, blinking away the haze. “do you want more?”
“i want everything.” you breathed, pulling him against you. you smoothed your hands over his shirt until you reached the hem, dragging it up over his back. he helped you take it off, and then it was lost to the room. you grabbed at his shoulder blades, smooth, muscular planes of bronzed skin so warm under your touch. you felt insatiable, like nothing was enough, totally intoxicated by him and everything he was managing to make you feel.
lando’s hand slid down your body, searching for the band of your underwear. when he reached his destination, he toyed with the lacy edges, letting them snap against the pudge of your belly, teasing you. you bucked your hips, frustrated, and he used the opportunity to cup your pussy, feeling where you’d soaked through the cotton. the groan he let out was carnal, animalistic, almost needy. he could feel all of you, how you ached and dripped, how you needed the everything that you’d requested.
“you’re so fucking good for me, god.” lando almost slurred his words, voice lower than you’d ever heard it. you keened at the sound, pushing your hips further into him.
lando didn’t give you much time to dwell on it, mouth latching onto your underwear where it met the crease of your thigh. he was so close, so tantalising close to where you were aching for him and you were just about levitating off the bed when his teeth grazed your inner thigh. you couldn’t see him looking at you, losing it, inhibitions out the window. your eyes were already squeezed shut when he began mouthing over your cloth-covered pussy, spit further ruining the sodden material.
“take them off.” you cried out, tugging hard at his curls that you hadn’t even realised you were clutching for dear life. and lando was a good listener, because he complied immediately, tearing the lace down your legs like a starved man.
his tongue was on you then, everywhere all at once, running through your folds and over your clit. you didn’t know if you were dead or alive, a different kind of pleasure than anything you’d ever experienced coursing hot through your veins. lando switched between long, slow licks, his tongue flat against you, and rapid kitten licks, burying his face in your cunt.
everything was moving in slow motion, your hands grasping frantically at anything you could reach; his curls, the sheets, his shoulders. you could barely make out what he was saying, his words muffled, lost to the soft flesh between your legs. it seemed to echo, every lick, stroke, word. you snapped out of it, finally, when he pulled away.
“more? you want my fingers, baby? gonna get you nice and ready for me.” you just nodded, voice lost to the air of the room.
one arm locked around your thigh, pinning you still, and the other snaked up your leg until he reached the mess between your thighs. he took a moment to take it in, how wet you were, how fucked out you looked, knowing full well he must have looked the same, unhinged as he gave into your shared desire that he’d tried his best to keep hidden. he’d never felt more stupid in his life for holding back, as he took in the ethereal delight sprawled under his touch.
when lando slid the first finger in, your stomach twisted deliciously. he watched you carefully, searching for discomfort but all he could find was sheer bliss, written all over your face as clear as daylight. he worked the digit in and out, nice and slow, curling against your walls. he could feel how tight you were, clamping around just one finger and he thought his head was gonna explode. he added another finger, watching the way you took him in, twisting his fingers.
“are you gonna let go for me again, sweetheart?” lando punctuated his words by putting his mouth back on you, teeth grazing your clit as he sucked.
you were thrashing, a silent scream building from the fire in your belly. you could just about make out the way he was spurring you on, his mouth running as you spilled over the edge, covering his fingers. you saw white, maybe god, ears ringing, and when you finally mustered the energy to look at him, you could have come for a third time. lando looked feral, lips red and coated in everything you had to offer him. his eyes were glazed over, a hazy grey that sent a jolt through your body, the aftershocks of the orgasm setting in.
“christ.” was all you could sigh out. a lazy smile painted your face, your eyes blown out, everything a little blurry. everything except him.
you could feel him scaling up your body, crawling over you until he was level with your face. he placed a kiss to your throat, your jaw and finally your lips; when he pulled away all that was left was shared giddy smile, both of you suddenly shy. you couldn’t stop the roaming of your hands, exploring all the parts of him that you could reach. when you found the waist band of his joggers, your hand grazing his abs as you did, he sucked all of the air out of the room, a sharp inhalation making him tense up.
“you still want all of me?” he breathed, his shaky breath fanning your face. lando was obsessed with hearing you say it, obsessed with how you wanted him as much as he needed you.
“all of you. lando, this is… you’re perfect.” you admitted, lips brushing his. your hands pushed the material down his hips, nails raking over him as you did. he couldn’t seem to wait any longer, kicking them off the rest of the way, his boxers quickly following suit.
you couldn’t help but stare, all of him bare against all of you. your nipples brushed his chest, his hands holding you close, your hands threaded through his curls. it was like you were sussing each other out, eyes watching lips and hands getting lost. you stayed like that for a moment, pressed together, closer and closer, until he was slotted between your legs like he was coming home. lando searched your face one last time, hunting for a smidge of discomfort.
“are you ready for me?” he whispered.
“yes.”
the initial stretch burned, but he slid into you smoothly, his cock slipping through your folds with ease. he felt you clamp down on him, his head thrown back as far as it could go, thick neck exposed to you. you bit down on his shoulder, where it met the base of his throat, trying to mask the gasp of pleasure that sent your eyes rolling back in your head. he grunted at the sensation, enjoying the sting.
“oh, fuck.” he was shuddering, trying to keep himself in check.
“don’t, oh god,” you started, meeting the roll of his hips. “don’t hold back.”
“we gotta go easy.”
“i don’t want easy.” you tightened around him then, and he saw stars.
“you’re so fucking good.” lando groaned, an edge of excitement in his voice, and then he unleashed everything that he’d held back. how much he wanted you, and a bittersweet weekend of frustration versus success came crashing down and he couldn’t do anything except give himself to you exactly how you wanted.
lando was a delicious weight on top of you, the drag of his hips slow, meeting yours hard. the pressure made you lightheaded, his body moving against yours like the thick drip of honey, smooth and sweet. you couldn’t make sense of it, of how fucking good he felt, grinding deeper and deeper into you like he’d found buried treasure. the overstimulation had your third orgasm building nice and quick, waves of pleasure making you dizzy.
“you like it like this? like when i fuck you nice and hard?” yes you did. “don’t think i can go without this now, you know that? such a good fucking girl.” you couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, just let his words wash over you. “so beautiful, taking me so well.”
you couldn’t process that this was your best friend lando. this was a different person, it had to be. yet, somehow, it made sense that the man you knew, the one who spoke his mind, mischievous and troublesome, would be like this, a god above you as he fucked deeper into you with every thrust. he was filthy and gentle, brutal and sweet. it didn’t make sense, but it also just did.
“are you gonna come for me? one more time, baby. need to feel that perfect fucking pussy.” well, his wish was your command, because then you were gushing. the one thing you could feel was him, none of your other senses worked, you couldn’t see past the tears that fell, couldn’t get any words past your lips. maybe you screamed, you weren’t exactly sure.
lando was kissing you everywhere. each hip bone was met with his lips, your stomach, over your ribs, breasts, clavicle, neck. your face was covered in kisses next, your cheeks, forehead, a dainty peck to your nose.
“can you look at me?”
your eyes cracked open slowly, the exhaustion hitting as you came back to reality.
“was that okay?” there he was again, this shy version of lando that you couldn’t get used to.
“okay? lando that was…” you shook your head in awe. “that meant everything to me.”
he smiled then, that gorgeous, gorgeous smile, the one with the crinkles by his eyes and his teeth on full display. you melted.
“me too. you’re fucking beautiful. so, so fucking beautiful. should’ve told you sooner.” he murmured.
his words made you think, way too hard for your current state. what happened next? lando had said some things, some pretty big things that you didn’t know how to comprehend. it was crazy, how scared you were to bring it back up to him, considering he’d just been inside of you.
“sooner?” you whispered, hardly audible. lando was midway through tucking you both into bed, pulling your flushed, naked body into his own under the duvet.
“yes. a lot sooner.” he replied, not a trace of doubt in his voice.
‘how much sooner?’ you thought to yourself, unable to stay awake any longer to agonise over it, your dreams haunted by the way he touched you so well. it was magnificent to fall asleep in his arms, and you couldn’t help yourself from wondering when it would happen again.
-
you woke up tangled with him, fingers stroking your cheek, smoothing your hair out of your eyes.
lando was always so warm, but now his tanned skin radiated sunshine, a beacon of light in your bed. you smiled, eyes still shut, shielding yourself from the streaks of light casting over the room from the crack in the curtains.
“what time is it?” you croaked, bringing a hand to your eyes to rub away the sleep.
“gone eleven. i need to go, baby.”
baby.
you hadn’t gotten a chance to take my notice of the things he’d called you last night, too caught up in the way he played with your body. now that you heard it, in the calm after the storm, it made you swoon.
“already?” you tried to hide your disappointment, not quite ready to detangle yourself from him.
“need to get to the track. i think i’m already late. i just wanted to be here when you woke up.” lando sounded so soft, not as groggy as you, and you wondered how long he’d been awake, watching the soft rise and fall of your chest.
“thank you.” you knew that you’d have spiralled waking up alone, and you were immensely grateful that he’d stayed.
lando began to get up, wincing at your whine of protest.
“i’m sorry. i’ll have someone pick you up later, okay? i’ll see you soon, i promise.”
you knew he had to work hard today, knew how much analysis he needed to do before the race. he was starting further back than anyone would have liked, and he had something to prove as well, oscar starting too close to the front for lando’s liking. there were places to make up and hard work to be done to get back to the front.
“don’t apologise. i hope it goes smoothly today.” you smiled at him, watching him collect his long forgotten clothes. you were entranced by the way his body moved, the lines and shapes that tensed and rippled as he dressed himself.
“i’ll message you.” he promised, creeping back over to the bed. you weren’t sure what to expect, but the soft kiss to your lips, almost apprehensive on his part, could have killed you off, your heart pounding.
your grinned like a fool when the door shut behind him.
-
the shower was burning hot, loosening up your muscles. you cleaned yourself slowly, examining your body, the same one that you’d given to lando. he’d taken you apart, piece by piece, and put you back together, the traces of him that he’d left behind delectably apparent.
you followed the trail of marks he’d left, starting with the love bite below your right breast that you couldn’t even remember him leaving, making your way to the litter of fingerprints that were tattooed into your hips. your fingertips ghosted over your swollen lips, the kiss that he’d left at the junction between your neck and your shoulder, reminiscing the evening. you seemed to ache everywhere, the dull pain setting into your bones so nicely.
you prayed it would happen again. you felt like it would, everything between you had changed now, changed from any possible return to the norm. you wanted it to change, you couldn’t fathom the idea of staying friends when the lines had blurred like this, when he’d kissed you so deeply, touched you so intimately.
the shower was much needed, refreshing your body that was now tainted by him in the best way. you tried to keep a clear head while you got yourself ready, taking your time to make yourself presentable to the paddock. the time of your departure was looming, the pink and white sunset outside your window indicating that the race was only a few hours away. the air had cooled slightly, and you knew you needed to make your way to the lobby.
your phone dinged in your hand as you were packing your essentials into your bag. you glanced down at the device, unruly smile gracing your face.
see you soon, the text read, an orange love heart punctuating the short but sweet text. it was safe to say that the butterflies in your belly were well and truly alive.
-
the screen beeped as you scanned your paddock pass, and you slipped through the gate, making your way into the paddock. it was beautiful in qatar, they’d outdone themselves with this structure, the glass ceilings and jungle of greenery an expression of wealth and elegance.
you made a beeline for the mclaren garage, greeting lando’s pr officer who smiled warmly at you. you recognised oscar smirking as you appeared in the garage, and as you got closer you realised why.
“nice to see you. looking for lando?” his monotonous voice held an amused twang.
“hey oscar, great job last night!” you said, waiting for the other shoe to drop. “yeah, is he around here somewhere?”
“yeah he’s just doing press i think. extra spring in his step today.” oscar gave you a knowing look, one that made you blush.
“what do you know?” you deadpanned, fighting back laughter.
“i know that this was a long time coming.” he smiled, and then he was gone, lost to the bustle of the garage.
you stood there, probably in the way, lost in thought about what oscar had just said. he was right, this was a long time coming.
you jumped a bit when a hand landed on your waist, relaxing instantly into lando’s body when he pressed himself against you, head on your shoulder.
“i’m so glad you’re here.” he whispered, pressing a secret kiss under your ear, and then he, too, was gone, before you could even react.
your nerves were shot, ushered to the back of the garage where you found a headset. you chewed your nails, anxious about it all. the race, the changes that you were surely coming. you wanted it, wanted everything from him that he’d give you, willing to commit to all of it, to him. the distance, borrowed time, chaos of his world. last night had changed everything and you couldn’t have asked for more.
eventually the lights went out and the fight was underway. you found your hands clasped together, sweating in the dry heat and the anxiety. you clapped every time he made an overtake, storming through the field. when he made it into p3, picking the pace up on oscar, the nerves resurged and you prayed for a clean end to this race.
lando’s radio messages flooded your ears, and your leg bounced uncontrollably, your shoe slapping against the floor.
“be sensible, lando.” you muttered under your breath, resting your chin on your tightly clasped hands. he would be on the podium, but you knew it wasn’t enough for him, it never was. would you be enough for him?
eventually he agreed to hold position, thank fuck, and you could breathe again. he’d driven a beautiful recovery drive, bringing the car onto the podium, and you rushed out with the team to congratulate him. you lingered at the back of the pack behind the metal barriers, watching in quiet admiration as he jumped out of the car. he slapped oscar on the back, hugging his younger teammate before bounding towards the team. his head was darting around as if he was looking for something, but you couldn’t make it out with his helmet still on. and then the helmet came off and it became clear.
he was looking for you.
lando pulled away from a hug with a mechanic, leaning over the barrier right in front of you. you gravitated towards him, somehow moving through the swarm of team members until you were pressed against the metal too. he was beaming, eyes brighter than they had been all working weekend, and then his hands were on you. the hug he pulled you into was tight and you clung to one another for a moment, unbothered by his damp race suit, or the tickle of his sweat slicked curls.
the kiss he pressed to your cheek was far less secret than the one in the garage, so was the one he pressed to your forehead, but the one he pressed to your lips, as quick as it may have been, was the one that really took the cake. you were blushing when he pulled back, a mischievous grin on his face. you shook your head in disbelief at his boldness, unable to tame your bewildered smile.
“what are you doing for dinner, baby?” he called out to you as he walked away. the podium high had clearly set in.
nothing, you mouthed back, not quite confident enough to shout across parc ferme.
“good, we’re going on a date.” lando winked and then he was gone, pulled into the chaos of post race duties.
tears pricked your eyes when he stood on the podium, a much happier man than the one you found when you’d arrived. you couldn’t put it into words, how one night had changed everything, giving you everything you didn’t realise you wanted.
then again, lando was always good at beating expectations.
-
hehe the end
-
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