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sincerelyrki · 2 days

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but i love the taste of you

Heeseung never did enjoy lollipops, their overrated taste never interesting him. But perhaps tasting it from your lips could change everything. As for the laptop? It just happened to be in the perfect place, at the perfect time.

pairing : bf!heeseung x fem!reader

warnings + genre : smut. profanity. licking. biting. heeseung is lowkey obsessed. unprotected sex (pls don’t!). oral (both ways). kissing over a lollipop (trust 🙏). recording. switch!heeseung. switch!reader. little bit of degrading (just a bit, promise). spit it mentioned a few times. 18+. mdni.

wc : 3.9k

a/n : you can probably see my addiction to secondhand tasting [ cherry lips, a cherry for my cherry, and now this one… (the lollipop was def cherry flavoured in my head)] anyways, this is only my second time writing full smut so please lmk how i did! fb + rbs are always appreciated <3

Heeseung sat with his jaw clenched; hands fisting by his side as he watched your lollipop glide down your tongue, satisfying pops sounding out whenever you pulled it from your mouth.

He felt like he was losing his mind, his patience wearing thin the longer he listened to your soft hums of delight.

The sounds were identical to the ones he had you making just hours ago, your body still clad in nothing but his t-shirt and your cute little panties.

You were daunting him, you had to be. There was no other explanation as to why you were making all these erotic sounds, why you were licking your lollipop in the same way you had done to him that same morning.

Heeseung rose to a stand, feet bringing him towards you without hesitation. He stood tall in front of you, his body blocking your vision from your computer’s screen.

“I can’t see, baby. Can you please move over?” You looked up at him over your lashes, wide eyes matching your perfectly pouted lips.

Heeseung swore under his breath, his pants tightening as he laid a firm hand on your shoulder, gently pushing you to lean back against the couch.

You sat back with a smirk, teeth still pressing down on the lollipop stick. At first, you didn’t mean to make the whole scene suggestive, but you’d never pass up the opportunity to tease your boyfriend.

You knew how easily he got turned on, how easy it was for you to turn him to putty in your hands. It wasn’t that you always took advantage of it, but there’s no harm in doing it every once in a while.

Especially when he looked as good as he did now, his messy hair - courtesy to you- stirring your arousal as the reminder of your long morning came rolling back.

You sat still under him, your eyes never leaving his heated ones, basking in the way he glared down at you. You had been fantasizing about his reaction, about how rough he would take you.

There’s nothing that irritated Heeseung more than when his good girl teased him, but there’s also nothing that turned him on more.

There was something about your innocent facade, your delicate eyes staring at him with the warmth of the morning sun. Something about the way you conceived everyone into thinking you were some perfect, flawless, princess.

The way you convinced everyone that you were nothing like how you actually were, you’re just a brat wearing a pretty face. But you were only Heeseungs brat, something he proved to you whenever he could.

Heeseung turned his back towards you, bending at the waist to pick up your computer. He rolled his eyes at the rotting footage playing across from him, some random romance sitcom with no specific plot.

It was the same genre you always chose to indulge in, sitting pretty while your brain worked on autopilot to create its own interpretations of how these soulless actors would portray these tedious scenes.

That’s when an idea hit Heeseung, one that he’d been fantasizing about since the day he first touched you. What better movie is there to watch, than the one you create with the person you love?

It was perfect, everything about it.

And so Heeseung turned back around, putting his weight on one knee and he moved the other on your other side. He sat down on your plush thighs, straddling you as you sunk deeper into the couch.

You had long lost eye contact your the man before you, the computer blocking your sight. You ignored the way your show suddenly turned quiet, rolling your eyes at what you thought was Heeseung being over dramatic.

But what he had done next, was something that you’d be thinking about the next time you needed some sort of relief, your hands down your parties as you pleasured yourself to the thought of your boyfriend.

Heeseung placed the computer on the side table, the two of you fitting perfectly in frame. He barely glanced at the screen before he grabbed your jaw, one hand holding it as the other pressed down on your bottom lip.

Two sides of Heeseung’s fingers touched against the lollipop in your mouth, sandwiching it between his fingers as he pried your mouth open.

You looked up at Heeseung in shock, the lollipop sitting loose in your mouth as you allowed him to control your body in the ways he wanted.

“You know, I’m not a huge fan of lollipopsâ€¦” Heeseung trailed off, his fingers crawling from your mouth and onto your tongue. He swiped two fingers across the sugary surface of the lollipop, trailing it in a line across one side of the candy.

He then dragged his fingers from the lollipop, across your tongue, and to your lips. He used his fingers to rub the sweetness across your mouth, a sweet coat of sugar replacing your long smudged lipgloss.

“But I love the taste of you.” He used the same two fingers to pull the candy from your mouth, leaning it to vertically press against your lips. He leaned down to your face, pressing his lips to the other side of the lollipop.

He then angled the stick in a way that allowed the lollipop to stick in the middle of both of your lips, the taste transferring to the both of you.

He closed his eyes, uncaring of the fact that yours were wide open and staring directly at him. He gently stuck out his tongue, removing his lips enough to run his tongue across the side of the lollipop.

He turned his head as his tongue slowly moved across it, eventually meeting the end and ending on the corner of your lips.

Heeseung stayed in that position, his lips barely touching yours as he let out a quiet hum, licking the sugar off his lips as he reopened his eyes. “Delicious” He pressed a small peck to the side of your lips, pulling back to sit up straight.

Heeseung was still holding the lollipop to your lips, only this time he turned the stick so the end was facing towards his chest, the candy facing towards your mouth.

He made a show of opening his mouth, sticking out his tongue as he let a hushed “a” sound leave his lips.

He gave you a small smirk as you followed his command, lips opening wide as you stuck your tongue out the same way. “Good girl” Heeseung cooed at you in a tone that was anything but proud.

He pushed the candy back in your mouth, using his other hand to close your jaw around it. “You’re so pretty like this, with your dirty lips wrapped around something.” Heeseung quirked an amused eyebrow as you responded to his degrading words with a whine, furrowed eyebrows staring up at him.

“Oh? You don’t look pretty with something in your mouth?” You whined again, eyebrows furrowing even more. Heeseung tilted his head to the side, face pulling up in an unfamiliar way.

“Lips aren’t dirty” You tried speaking through your closed mouth, words barely recognizable. Heeseung humorlessly chucked at your words, a proud grin settling on his face.

“M’sorry baby, you have the prettiest lips.” Your forehead smoothed as you sunk back down, satisfied with his answer. “Should we show the camera?”

Heeseung leaned over to grab the laptop, his teeth on display as he replayed your reaction in his head. The way your body tensed at his words, eyes widening a fraction and legs jolting.

“You must think I'm dumb, don’t you? Don’t think I haven’t noticed.” You were filled with the same desires as Heeseung, your fantasy of recording each other haunting you every time you have sex.

“I know my dumb baby too well, there isn’t anything I haven’t already seen.” Heeseung was now watching their reflection on the screen, his desire growing as he watched the way you began pushing against him.

“Is my baby getting needy?” Through the screen he watched as you rapidly nodded, teeth still pressing down on the lollipop. “Good, let’s show the camera how pretty your lips are first.”

Heeseung brought the laptop up between the two of you, holding it near your chest as he stared down at you, “hold it.”

With the laptop held securely in your hands, Heeseung turned his attention back to your candy. This time, he opened your mouth in a different way.

He pushed down on the lollipop, forcing your mouth to open due to the pressure. He slowly slid it out from your mouth, his mouth salivating as the sweet scent reached his nose.

The camera got a close-up of the way a small string of saliva connected from your mouth to the candy, caught the way it disappeared as Heeseung’s head swooped in from over the laptop as pressed against yours.

Filthy sounds filled the room, your messy kiss being caught from a lowered angle. Though many might now think the angle would be ideal, it was nothing less than perfect.

It perfectly captured the way Heeseung’s tongue wrapped around yours, the way your head chased after his as he pulled back to change angles.

It caught everything, including your pretty moans.

Heeseung carelessly tossed the lollipop behind him, the table close enough for it to land on without having to look. He moved both of his hands to wrap around your waist, his hands pressing down on your curves.

“Wait, let me fix the camera” You stuttered mid-sentence, mouth refusing to leave his as you placed the laptop on the couch beside the two of you, everything above your knees visible.

Heeseung slid his hands under your shift, sliding it up and over your head in a vast movement, disconnecting your lips for no more than five seconds before pressing against you again.

His hands squeezed at your skin, his hands coming up to grope at you.

Your head tilted back with a loud moan as he disconnected your lips to kiss the exposed skin at the top of your bra, his hands pushing your tits up as he sucked dark marks onto your skin.

He acted like a man who’d never seen a pair of breasts before, ravaging them like a starved man. He moved lower down your legs as he undid your bra, kissing and sucking spots along his path until he reached your pants.

Heeseung slid off the couch, slotting himself between your open legs as he bit along your lower stomach, kissing your stretch marks as he appreciated your entire body.

“My girl is so pretty, the prettiest girl in the world.” He mumbled out, sounding drunk off your skin. “So so pretty” He repeated over and over as he placed more and more kisses.

He slid his hands back down towards your legs, fingers wrapping around your waistline before he looked up at you, eyes hooded as he waited for your consent.

At your nod, Heeseung quickly undid your pants, pulling them down and off your legs. Your panties quickly followed, getting tossed across the room in a random pile that would soon be joined by his clothes.

Due to the shift of weight, the laptop toppled over to the side, landing in the perfect view of Heeseung between your legs. It was a sight worth millions, the sight of a man who was actually willing to sacrifice anything to get a taste of pussy.

Heeseung pulled your legs over his shoulder, using his hands to pull your body closer to his face. His eyes closed with a loud hum, the familiar smell enveloping his senses in the most pleasurable way possible.

“You smell so good, I love you so much” Heeseung spoke once before placing a small kiss against your folds, one of his hands coming up to spread you for him.

He gave your inner thigh one last kiss before he leaned in, his lips wrapping around your clit as his vibrations caused mass pleasure to wring out across your body.

Your back arched as his tongue circled you, your sensitive nerves reacting to his loving movements. Heeseung always started slow, paying attention to your most pleasurable parts as he submerged himself into you.

His tongue was now replaced with his thumb, fast circled getting rubbed against you as he stuck his tongue flat against your opening, slowly curling it as he collected whatever juices he could.

A mixture of his spit and your arousal was nothing more than his wettest dreams, the taste automatically beating the one of the sugary lollipops. He could happily drown within you, the only way he’d ever want to go.

After a few minutes of prolonging your orgasm, he finally decided to finish it off, bringing you to your most craved high.

He pushed his fingers into you, his tongue replacing the spot his thumb was moments prior. As good as Heeseung’s fingers felt, nothing compared to his tongue.

It felt like magic, the way he was able to make you feel so much in such a short amount of time. Your back arched as your legs quivered around his head, thighs tightening around his head as your heels dug into his clothes back.

Broken moans left your lips, the sound rising the more you felt the waves coming up. Heeseung felt it too, the way you clenched around his fingers while your hips began rocking against your face.

He used the hand that was wrapped around one of your tights to go up and press against your lower stomach, pushing on it as your high washed over you.

Loud slurps and moans filled the room, your breath caught in your throat as your back arched as far as it could. Heeseung felt you through it, both his fingers and to continue moving unrelentingly.

“Too much.” You gently shinned, legs still shaking as Heeseung licked you clean. He hummed against you, removing his fingers as he finished off, “I know baby, I know.”

Heeseung sat back up, one of his hands grabbing at the bottom of his shit to pull it off his head. You watched through tired eyes as your boyfriend palmed himself through his pants, head tilting forwards as his eyes stayed glued to your face.

It was a habit that Heeseung couldn’t seem to shake, the action starting when your relationship first started. You used to get shy after Heeseung ate you out, cheeks heating up as you tried hiding yourself.

Obviously, you weren’t shy anymore, the hundreds of minutes he’d spent between your legs long swishing that shyness.

While you were calming down and preparing yourself again, Heeseung busied himself with getting undressed. He removed each article of clothing, throwing them roughly in the same direction as yours.

The sight of your boyfriend bare before your eyes caused your body to light up with electricity once again, legs tingling as you obsessed with the way his cock twitched at your watchful eyes.

Heeseung leaned down to grab the laptop, placing it on the table that it was on, to begin with, one that gave it the sight of the entire couch.

You changed positions, turning your back towards the roof as you crawled towards one side of the couch, arching your back for your boyfriend as you playfully looked over your shoulder at him.

“I’m not going to fuck myself.” You fluttered your eyelashes, arousal growing as Heeseung playfully snickered at you in disbelief. “Don’t worry, I’ll fuck you so good.”

He kneels on the couch behind you, hands spreading your ass as he pushes himself to glide between your lips. He coated himself with your wetness before sinking into you, bottoming out as you pushed yourself back into him.

His nails dug into your love handles, grabbing them for stability as he pushed himself into you. His head fell back as he felt himself continuously bottom out.

It was rare that you went without a condom, and there was no better feeling than the friction of your bare skin rubbing together.

“Fuck, you feel so good.” A loud pitch moan left your lips in response, a little more dramatic due to the camera recording you.

Heeseung could feel himself losing control, the warm feeling of being inside of you chasing his hips to push into you harder.

Quiet swears left his lips as he found his constant pace, hips hitting against yours as he leaned over your back, hands leaving your hips to wrap around your hands.

He pushed your hands down against the couch, his new angle allowing him to get more depth.

“Please, I want to cum whilst riding you.” Heeseung swore one last time before pulling out, flipping your position as he leaned his back against the back of the couch.

Your feet pressed against his legs, hips raised as you used your hand to place his dick against you. You circled his tip around your entrance one time before you sunk onto him, hand moving down to play with his balls as you bounced up and down.

Heeseung threw his head back, eyes narrowing to slits as his pleasure weighed down his body. One of his hands rubbed up your body, grabbing your chest as the other squeezed the soft skin of your waist.

He turned his attention toward the area where the two of you were connected, his mouth drying as he watched a ring of white froth form at his base.

His abdominal muscles contracted as he trusted his hips forward, louder clapping filling the room as he changed the tempo.

There was a moment where both of your eyes met, the primal desire mirroring back through your own reflections. Heeseung gave you a small smirk, one side of his mouth quirking up.

He winked at you once before he grabbed your hand, his fingers wrapping around the entirety of yours as he brought it to grab his neck.

“Use me” You tightened your hand around his neck at his suddenly sultry whisper, knees burning as you dropped against him harder.

You bent forward, chest bumping against him as you used your hands to tilt his head back, his hair falling back to reveal his damp forehead.

You pressed your tongue against the top of his sternum, licking a strip up until your nose touched his earlobe, teeth replacing its spot as you bit down on him.

His back arched beneath you, small sounds leaving his lips as you marked him. You treated his neck the same way you had the lollipop, using him the way he liked.

“You feel so good.” Heeseung breathlessly praised you, his voice coming out higher than usual. It was easy to tell when Heeseung was getting close, the way he started touching your body more.

Even with Heeseung under you, he always made sure you came undone first. The way your pleasure contoured your body caused his own long-awaited high to multiply tens fold.

Though the feeling of his skin against yours caused a euphoric sensation to ring out across your body, you couldn’t stop yourself from teasing him a little more.

You halted your body, palms pushing down on your boyfriend's hips to stop his constant buckling.

“I want to make you feel good before.” You rose higher on your knees, only his tip remaining in as you shot him your best attempt of an innocent smile.

Heeseung tried not to let your words affect him, the pleasure that faded with the lack of stimulation returning at the thought of your lips wrapping around him.

“I much prefer you over the lollipop, nothing compares to the way you fill me.”

Heeseung let out a shaky breath as his left leg began to shake, arms flexing as he fisted the cushions under him. “Fuck, do whatever you’d like, I’ll take anything you’re willing to give me.”

You removed him from you completely, your palm reaching up towards his lips as you looked at him with an expected gaze. Heeseung puckered his lips out, a sizable drop of spit landing between the crevices of your fingers.

“That’s not enough.” You clicked your tongue at him, faux disapproval seeping out through your lips as you pulled your hand away from him. “You’re lucky I'm still wet, I'll just have to do it myself.”

You reached down, fingers collecting your wetness before you wrapped your hand back around him. Heeseung’s mouth fell open as you placed a small kiss against the base of his shaft, a trail of kisses following your hand as you slowly moved it up.

A sudden whimper left his mouth as you hollowed your cheeks around him, the suction perfectly squeezing around him.

His sounds only rose as you added your tongue, the soft muscle tracing along his prominent vein. He almost forgot about the laptop, a small red light reminding him of the almost hour-long video.

He stared directly into the camera, maximizing his expressions knowing that sooner or later, you’d be watching this back. He knew what got you off, what he could do to make you feel as good as possible.

It was completely mutual, your knowledge of his body aiding in drawing out a loud, genuine, sound from his pretty lips.

His back lifted from the couch, body flinching as your finger pressed against his perineum, sharp shocks of pleasure shooting across his body.

His breath caught in his chest as his hand shot out to grab your head, your hair fisting in his hands as he pushed you down further.

He didn’t stop, not even after hearing your choking sounds. As said before, he knew exactly what you liked.

He wasn’t the only one who enjoyed being choked, you just experienced it differently.

You continued stimulating his prostate through his perineum, spit dribbling down from the corners of your lips as you drew him closer to his orgasm.

He barely warned you before letting go in your mouth, the only telltale being the trembling of his legs.

You tried your best to swallow everything he gave you, his familiar salty taste replacing the coating of sweetness in your throat.

You pulled back, tongue peaking out to lap at the drops you had missed before, cleaning him from your shared mess.

Heeseung panted from above you, his eyes closed as his heart pounded loudly in his chest. He felt the way you raised from your knees, your hand wrapping around his jaw as you pulled him in for a messy kiss.

The taste of himself no longer caused any reaction, he’d long gotten used to tasting himself on your tongue after you’d gone down on him.

“You’re not going to be able to walk tomorrow.” Heeseung said completely seriously, masking the truth behind his words with a joking tone.

“That’s just the way I like it.” You replied back, scooting back to rest your head against the arm of the couch, legs spreading for your boyfriend to get a good view of what you were going to do next.

“I’m ready when you are, show me how good you can treat me.” You never looked away from his eyes as you pressed your finger down against your clit, basking in the way his cock twitched at you.

“Or are you too tired?” Heeseung rolled his eyes at you, his body moving to hover over yours as he pushed himself between your legs.

“Why don’t you see for yourself?” You returned his wolfish grin, hand leaving your body to grab his waist, pulling his hips against yours.

“Show me.”

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laneywrld · 3 days

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Oh Baby | part two

part two.

word count: 10.8k

Warnings: wee bit angsty (an argument), mentions of sex + pregnancy

The repercussions of Lewis' birthday night are not as sweet.

You don't remember anything after your life-changing orgasm. You vaguely recall Lewis standing bare and walking into the bathroom. Your eyes were low and droopy, and you could only offer him a loving smile that had his cheeks burning.

"M'gonna clean you up for a second, okay."

You only hum, allowing him to spread you open; this time, it's not sexual at all; it's romantic. Oh god, you thought. You should've known the sex with Lewis would make you go mad.

He swipes the warm cloth between your legs, wiping the glistening remainder of your arousal away.

The sight of his cum oozing from your hole has him taking a harsh gulp. He'd have to remind you to take whatever precautions you found necessary in the morning.

If you weren't so burned out and exhausted, the sight of him walking around in the nude with his golden and tatted-on skin display would've had you jumping his bones again.

You can't help but laugh at yourself as he returns from cleaning himself up.

"What you laughing about?" He grins, hovering over you. You smile, looking at him like he's hung the moon and the stars. "Myself."

The two of you look like two love-sick high schoolers, completely enamored with each other.

Lewis lowers and captures your lips in a kiss, slow and sweet. One peck after the other before his weight is on top of you. He rolls off of you with a groan, turning you so that you're face to-face with him on your side.

His hand falls to your bare waist, pulling you against him.

"We need t'sleep."

He sits up, chuckling as you whine from losing his body heat. With one arm, he gently hoists your legs up enough to pull the comforter from underneath your body. He is back in his place instantly, the cover now offering another layer of warmth.

You're trying your hardest to keep your eyes open and stay in this moment because you'll probably never get to experience Lewis like this again, this loving and intimate.

"Going to be right here in the morning; go to sleep, bunny."

Like he had a spell over you, your eyes close for the final time, and you feel his palm cup your face.

Lewis can't help but watch you fall into slumber. His finger prods against your face, tracing your mouth, eyebrows, and nose. He could already remember every detail of your face. If he were a blind man, he thinks he'd have no problem telling you apart from the rest of the world.

He didn't think it was possible to love you more than he already does, but feeling the way his heart reacts wildly to you laying flush against him naked and comfortable has him ready to read his (prewritten) vows to you in the morning.

He doesn't want to sleep; he wants to stay here and take it all in. He's probably moving too fast, but he can't wait to tell your friends, your guys' family, hell, even the world, that you love him.

Hearing those words from you detonated the lengthiest, most robust orgasm from him that he'd ever experienced. He'd never come so much, so hard in his life.

Hearing you say you love him in your angelic whimpers, tears falling out the corner of your eyes, holding onto him so tight, fuck, he's hard again just thinking about it.

"I love you," he whispers into the night, kissing your forehead before turning off the lights.

You awake first in the morning, dazed and confused. You feel a heavy mass weighing you down. You squint, open your eyes, and you see him. Lewis, your best friend, face nuzzled in your neck, his arm thrown over your waist, holding you tight as if you were going to float away from him in your sleep.

"Oh fuck," you groan lowly as last night's events seep back into you like scenes from a movie.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

You gently reach for his arm, carefully lifting it off your body. You pull a pillow from your side, pushing it under his neck as you slide away and gently drop his arm.

You were unsure of how to go about this whole situation. Would he remember it when he woke up? The passionate sex? The beautiful night? You two were off-your-face drunk. Would he laugh at the words you shared? Brush it off. You wouldn't blame him, it'd hurt for you to hear, but logically, it'd make sense; he was in a sex stupor, drunk and horny, and that'd lead to all kinds of words coming out in a daze.

There's no telling how long you stood there like a deer caught in headlights before you began pulling his shirt over your frame. You crept into his closet, thanking God for the array of shoes and clothing of your own filling his space. You tugged on a pair of Nike crew socks and a pair of boyshorts, reaching for the pair of black Ugg Tasmans Lewis had gotten.

You stood in his walk-in closet, staring at yourself in the full mirror, and sighed.

What the fuck were you supposed to do? You were sure you crossed the line this time and abandoned boundaries that were needed in order to keep your feelings at bay. You knew you couldn't keep putting yourself through the same demise.

You didn't know how you would handle the situation when it approached, but in the meantime, you knew you needed to get away from Lewis. You needed to leave his home and be far away from him before you did or said something to ruin your guys' friendship for good.

You creep from the closet quickly, not sparing a glance at the man on the bed; as you grip the handle to his bedroom door, he speaks up from behind you.

He is sat up, back against his headboard, watching you try to leave, "Just going to leave?"

You turn to him awkwardly, hand dropping from the handle, "I-uh, didn't know what you'd want, wasn't sure how to go about-"

"You're not a fucking booty call, Y/n," he says it like you're the most ridiculous person alive like he can't fathom the words coming from your mouth; because he can't.

"Just going to leave me after fucking me? Without a word, while I'm still asleep, that was your plan?"

Your mouth plops open and closed like a fish, searching for the words you stammer out incoherent excuses. Lord, he's got such a dirty mouth.

"Get back in the bed." He cuts you off.

Like a dog to a bone, you stride over to the bed, kicking off your slippers, and you're beside him again.

You're staring at the door, and he is staring at you. The covers hang low over his body, only just covering what had you going crazy last night.

You clear your throat, waiting for him to put you out of your misery. Get it over with, you thought to yourself as you braced for impact.

"Last night was fun," He hummed.

You let out a stifled laugh, finally turning to look at him. His face was still covered in morning haze, and his voice was extra raspy and groggy. He smiles as you, eyes low and droopy.

"I want to address what we-"

You thought you'd be able to take it. You aren't that fucking strong.

"Yeah, no, it's fine." you laugh awkwardly. "I understand. I feel the same way." You don't, but you continue anyway. "We were drunk and in a mad sex stupor, I'm not holding it against you."

"I don't-"

"It was a mistake," you rambled on.

Lewis' mouth plops shut, and he can't tell if his mouth has been dry from his sleep or if the words you're speaking to him have done it.

"You didn't want it?" He question abruptly, putting an end to your nervous break.

"I mean, of course, I wanted it; I initiated it. I was just drunk and turned on; no need to make it a big deal is what I'm saying; we're both off the hook."

Lewis stands from the bed, his bare body on full display. He wants to tell you to shut up and stop downplaying the night he spent with you. He wants you to say to him that you're lying, but you don't, and it's making him angrier as the second goes on.

There are so many sentences he wants to respond to, but he can only grapple with one at a time. You're talking too much, and he's talking too little.

"I was just going to make it easier for you. Usually, you prefer if girls leave, right? That's what you said."

He has said that, but why the fuck would he be talking about you. Why the fuck would other girls include you.

He looks like a wild man, and you look like his blubbering bunny.

"Why do you say shit like that?" He shouts.

His loud tone takes you aback, and your head cranes to watch him incredulously. "What are you talking about?" You fire back.

"You say stupid shit like that all of the time like I'm some kind of fucking manwhore."

You scoff, standing up from the mattress as well. At this point, you are glaring at each other from across the bed.

"You think I don't get enough of it, huh? Do you think I don't get sick of hearing you guys laugh at me? I can't help-"

"I'm not picking at you, Lew, I didn't-"

"But you look at me like that. That's how you feel?"

He wants to know if that is the reason his words went in one ear and out the other.

"Oh please, I've always told you how I feel. If I viewed you as some slut I would've said it." You wave your hand; this had to have been the stupidest argument ever, Lew knew your character, and he knew how much you admired him and his; he'd have to be a fool to think that you'd ever demean him.

"It's not about what you say! It's what you do!"

"Exactly!" you holler back. "I don't fucking laugh at you, Lew! I don't fucking kiki with the rest of the friends when they point out your new fucking flavor of the month! I defend you. You can't control it. You can't help it! You said it yourself it's in your fucking blood to fuck everything with two legs. Like having an itch, you can't scratch. I don't fucking judge you. It's just who you are." You snap. And you hate getting mad because it makes you go on and on.

"Don't even know my character enough to believe I would say some shit about you; supposed to be my best friend, and you can't even properly gauge who I am." It comes out as an angry sneer, and you're right back to slipping on your shoes.

Lewis pulls on a pair of sweats, clamoring over to you; his hand grasps your wrist before you harshly pull it away.

"Last night," he shouts, "I'm not defiling your character; you said it last night."

"Lew, last night." you laugh, you genuinely cackle. "This is because I joked that you ran rabid after leaving Nicole? You did! I was there with you, do you not fucking remember, every night someone new! Just because you slowed down doesn't mean it ever stopped."

"You called me a fucking slut, y/n! Like a fucking bitch, I wouldn't date you, Lew; you're a manwhore." He mocks.

"You called yourself that; I said if the condom fits! You're upset because I said you made it easy for me not to want to be with you? If your ego is bruised, just say that!"

And you're missing the point he is bruised yes, but because he wants you to want him and you don't. Lewis is mad that you don't want to be with him. He is hurt and bothered by the fact that you can brush off the night you spent together like it's nothing.

And you're right; Lewis knows you're right, and he's just trying to find any reason to be mad at you. Of course, you wouldn't return his feelings; when you had them, he gave his affection to other women.

But hearing the person he loves call him out for it doesn't hurt any less. He feels like an idiot now, starting an argument over a situation that wasn't even relevant. He should be telling you he loves you, but now he's gotten you fired up and knows you're hard to diffuse.

You mutter curse words under your breath, frustrated, as your shaking hands keep you from slipping on your shoes. You were never a good angry person, so you'd rather avoid conflict completely. But when your frustrations began ticking inside of you, it was only a matter of time before you finally blew.

"All of this because I answered a fucking question you asked me last night, drunk ass motherfucker! I should've never fucking told you; look where the fuck that's got us, arguing over a relationship that never even happened that we're not even fucking in, so fucking stupid! The fuck do I look like trying to keep a man who doesn't wanna be kept? I'm supposed to wait around and pine after you? No fucking way, I've had my fair share of men like you." You're not saying these words directly to Lewis; he can hear them as you get increasingly frustrated. "Fucking idiot. Calling me out my name because your feelings are hurt; if it was such a fucking issue, you would've addressed it last night. Really you should have fucking addressed everyone else."

Finally, you spin around when the slipper is on, not expecting him to be so close. You jab a finger in his chest, looking up at him. "Yeah, you've pissed me off; this is not because you think I called you a manwhore. You know you sleep around. We all know it; I never said it was a bad thing. What are you really mad at, huh, Lewis? Say it!"

He says nothing, but his brain screams the words over and over: I love you.

You let out a bitter laugh, and you're relatively calm for how fired up you had been seconds ago. "Your anger is misdirected, and I'm not going to take it. So when you figure out what's got you so pissy, talk to me because I'm not here for you to yell at."

You're leaving his room in an instant. He can hear your footfall declining down his stairs and the way you snatch your keys from the hook. You don't slam his door, but from his window, he watches as you angrily march to your car, slamming your door and reversing from his driveway way too fast. It has his heart dropping as you nearly ram into another car.

He sighs as you pull down the street and disappear from his sight. "Fuck!" He roars, his fist shooting into his wall. He lets out a deep breath, his hand coming to rub over his face. Fuck.

He feels choked up and tingly as his eyes water. The two of you had never fought this bad, which says a lot, especially for how long you've been friends. He's never called you out of your name, and today he called you a bitch. You were far from a bitch, you were his sweet bunny.

You just wanted to make sure he was comfortable and that you stayed within the bounds. How were you to know that he didn't want you to leave?

You're a mess as you drive home, tears streaming down your face. Surprised you even made it there safely.

When you're home and starting your shower, you see all of the evidence Lewis left behind on your skin, and it breaks you down into a fit of tears. You wish you had never crossed the lines because you were sure the two of you wouldn't return from this.

Lewis has yet to contact you. It's been two weeks since that day. You tried to go about life as normal, but it was hard when you had spent every waking day talking to Lewis. You hadn't seen Roscoe since Lewis' birthday either, and that tore an entirely new part of your heart. Roscoe was like your child; he was with you when Lewis had to be on the road, so essentially, you spent an abundance of time with your four-legged friend.

You could reach out to him, but you'd be dammed if you put your pride to the side to alleviate your best friend's superiority complex.

He yelled at you, calling you out of your name first. Call it childish, but it wasn't your job to apologize first. Of course, you planned on apologizing for your own actions, for calling him an idiot, because you truly regretted it, and it has been hanging heavy over your head ever since then. But he had to give in first.

You haven't gone out with your friends as a group since then either, opting to go on your regular outing with one or two of them at a time. You've seen in Miles' story that Lewis has been out with them many times. You try not to cry as you see Lewis in the background of a video chatting up another girl in Daniel's close friends. After the initial gloom, you felt infuriated.

Here you were giving him grace, withholding time with your friends so as not to make him uncomfortable and to give him time to come to his own senses and the whole time, he's out committing the same crime that made him blow up at you. Here you were suffering because after all of these years, he still didn't show you the same grace he shows others when it comes to communicating. Why does he shut down when it comes to you but is so vocal and mature with his feelings to other people. Two things were obvious, you weren't kids anymore, and he wasn't to be coddled by you anymore. And secondly, you were done making deluded excuses for this man. He'd take accountability when it came to you.

Lewis awakes with his head pounding; he is in a random hotel, a random woman atop his chest in deep slumber. He sneaks from the bed, searching for his phone and tugging on his clothes.

He was drunk off his ass and chatting her up because she looked like you, and in the end, when they made it back to her room, he couldn't get hard without thinking about you, and by that time, he was over it, not wanting to do anything with the woman at all. You really fucked him up.

When Lewis arrives home, he is barely sober. He pours food into Roscoe's bowl, rubbing his head.

Roscoe has been feeling the impact of your departure, too. Could Lewis even say you left him? He sighs as Roscoe whines, nudging your walking shoes left by the front door. "I know, boy. I miss her too."

Lewis didn't know why he couldn't just call you and tell you he was sorry. You left the ball in his court, so obviously, you were open to having a mature conversation with him. But as the days went on and he still hadn't called, he began to realize that perhaps he had waited too long, and it was doing more damage than good.

He stumbles up to his room, stripping from his clothes and plopping onto his bead, Roscoe is up and beside him in an instant, snuggling into his side. Like routine, his hand reaches over to his nightstand, rustling through the stack of papers until he finds one of the many letters you'd gifted him for his birthday.

Lewis always kept your letters, especially when he was far away and traveling; nothing made him happier as a kid than his dad arriving with handwritten messages for him when you couldn't make it to his races. Your birthday gift, though, was a collection of unsent letters you'd had for years, dating back to as early as high school. He reread them all, scanning every word like they were the bible. He never told you this, but he kept them in a folder that traveled everywhere with him when he had to be gone for longer periods of time.

The letter he rereads now has been attached to him since the day you left, which was from your second year in high school.

Hello Lewis,

I won't be able to make it to your race next week. Get this, I'm on punishment at sixteen years old! You're always getting me in trouble, and you're not even here :( Do you remember Henry Glasgow? Let's just say he's finally gotten what he deserved. No matter what anyone says, your work is paying off, and you're doing great! I saw you on the TV the other day, and boy, did you look great out there. Mum recorded it for me, so I rewatch it so many times a day like a weirdo. I miss you tons, Lew, but I'm so very happy that you were able to get out of this forsaken city. Don't worry; I'm still defending your honor while you're away; let Henry's nose be proof of that. I've made a friend since you've gone away, her name's Whitney but I call her whit whit just like you're my lewlew; I can't wait for you to meet her. She's very bold and different from what we're used to, but she's a sweetheart. I love her to pieces, but I love you wholly, so she's not really doing much to heal how much I miss you, Lew. This is the longest we've been away from each other, and although we talk on the telly every day, I would like to be with you again. But nevertheless, I am so very proud of you, and I support you full send. I know you can be the greatest you already are if you ask me. But I can't wait until the world knows your name. Just promise you won't leave me behind when it does, yeah? Keep moving fast; Pops likes to brag about you everywhere we go, and I love to hear anyone hype you up like you deserve; plus, I bet twenty bucks on you to win next week, and my allowance is already gone, so make me some money. I can only give you the same words of encouragement you've heard a million times, I am truly my father's daughter. You're a cheetah, Lew: move silently and let your actions do the talking. Make quick decisions, but move even quicker. I know it's hard, but don't ever let what they say get to you; you've got a greater mission to accomplish. There are people out there who admire you and have faith in you. Let me be proof of that. Always remember that what you can't say, I will.

Love you more than you'll ever know, Lew.

p.s tell Nico that unless he wants me to go broke, he needs to push it a little harder.

From Bunny. <3

One day of no contact became a week, and a week became a month; soon, he was in the Middle East racing in the first grand prix of the season two months later, and he still hadn't heard from you. He was racing terribly, and he couldn't even blame it on the car. On the track, he wasn't focused; he could only think about you. And that had put him into the wall (literally) more times than he could count. He had let the best person in the world slip from his grasp, and his mind couldn't grasp that.

His friends knew something was up between the two of you and for the first time ever they decided not to meddle, and he appreciated it just as he was sure you did too. That didn't mean that he didn't ask about you.

Every call home to his mum he asks about you. He sits on the phone with your dad listening to updates on your life. They never question anything between you and him so he assumes you haven't disclosed your argument to anyone. But they know, they always know.

He could tell you were taking every step in order to ensure that you wouldn't run into him. When your family came out to see him you were miracously always busy with work. When your friends invited you out you were never feeling well.

He felt bad that you felt you had to sacrifice your enjoyment just to not be around him.

He revels in the glimpses he gets of you on your friends story, chuckles at the constant pictures Daniel posts of you that you obviously wouldn't have agreed to. He knows you probably threatened to kill him everytime. He likes every picture.

He nearly cries as he watches you from a fan account, bouncing Nicholas up and down as he places on podium in one of his own races.

Your dad's birthday was next week, and he knew you weren't going to miss it. He also knew he wasn't going to skip out on your father, so he mentally prepared himself to be a man and get his shit together. There was no way you could avoid him when you were stuck with him for a week.

You, Miles, and Nicholas had been out and about all day exploring the town before you finally decided to head back to the villa. When you three initially left, everyone else was bunkering down for a post-flight nap.

When you opened the door, you froze in your tracks as you saw Lewis hugging your dad in greeting. You don't know why you figured he wouldn't show, but when he wasn't on the flight with the rest of you guys, it had your hopes high.

Everyone's head swivels toward the front door as you emerge, he makes eye contact with you and even goes as far to offer you a smile. You don't return it. Nicholas rushes pass you to hug his brother jostling the many bags in your arm as he passes by.

Lewis hugs him, but his eyes once again fleet back to you.

You suck your teeth, looking away from him and waltzing up the stairs and towards the back of the house where you had claimed your room.

You hardly had the time or the energy to worry about Lewis. You were tired, and the Brazilian heat had you going through it. You kick your bedroom door closed and drop your bags onto your bed.

All you had to do was get through a week of being in his presence. You had your friends and family here with you. It wouldn't be too hard to stay away from him. You shower and then get dressed right in time for dinner.

The sun was still out by the time you descended the stairs; everyone had been lounging around in the living room waiting for you to finish.

Lewis feels like a starved bear as the dress sways against your thighs. Like always, you look beautiful.

"And the princess has arrived!" Your cousin shouts, "Girl, hurry your ass up, we've been waiting on you. I'm hungry." The room erupts in laughter as you pause on the stairs and shoot her the middle finger.

"Doesn't the princess deserve a grand entrance?"

Your head immediately turns to Lewis as if you can feel his stare on you. He sits, legs spread open, hands folded in his lap, and looks at you like he had had the night of his birthday. Like he wants to devour you.

You shake the memory from your head as everyone heads out of the door and piles into the three sprinters out front.

"Aw, twins!" Whit coos, pointing between you and Lewis, "So in sync."

You let out the fakest laugh he's ever heard, wiping the smile clean from his face, "Ah ha ha, let's go."

When it's your time to pass through the door, you feel a presence behind you, and you know it's Lewis as his signature cologne wafts through your nostrils. As you descend down the front steps, you feel his hand come up to rest against your lower back.

A part of you wants to tell him to back up and that you don't need his assistance, but the soft spot you'll always have for him has you accepting his graces.

You freeze, watching as two of the three vehicles pull off, fuck.

So much for being able to avoid him.

You can still feel him hot on your trail as you waddle to the last sprinter. You're helped up by the driver, offering him a sweet smile. Ironically enough, the last two seats are side by side in the back row.

You groan internally, slipping into the seat by the window. Lewis follows after you, slipping between you and Miles.

"So what? This is the kid's bus?" You joke, leaning over the seat in front of you to tug on your cousin's braids. "Be happy it is." She grins, pulling a bottle of Clase Azul from the floor. Everyone erupts into cheers as she passes the bottle around. She hands it to you first, but you quickly pass it on to Lewis. You hadn't drunk alcohol since that night, and when you tried, the smell of it physically made you sick. You were convinced that the stress of that night had made your brain repel your favorite pastime.

"Girl." Whitney gasped, "You're not drinking?"

"Hell no, I gag just thinking about that shit."

It's been so long since Lewis last heard your voice and seen you so carefree he wants to shout out his praises as you start a conversation within the van.

Your leg is flush against his, your thigh rubbing against his own with every jostle you take down the bumpy roads.

You don't speak to Lewis throughout the entire ride. When he speaks, you tune into your phone or manage another conversation with those around you. Though it does bring you an unwanted sense of comfort to hear his childlike giggles again. You'd missed them just as much as you missed him.

This time, when the doors open, they are opened on your side, and you cheerfully hop out, wrapping your arms around your girls and skidding to the dock where you can see a great portion of your family and friends already loaded onto the yacht.

You loved celebrating; it was no secret you were the life of the party anywhere you went, which is why you were always so grand when it came to spending time with the people you loved. Life is beautiful, as your father would say; you might as well live like it.

Lewis and the guys exit behind you all, he watches you scamper off with that stunning smile on your face waving to the family members and friends you hadn't saw yet.

An hour goes on of everyone mixing and mingling; your family is technically Lewis' as well, so it's no surprise when he is pulled into hugs and smooches left and right. It makes it easy to avoid him every time you sense him getting closer. You see him catching up with your grandparents, aunt, uncles, and cousins.

He is close to your entire family, which made it even more annoying for you to be asked about Lewis in damn near every conversation. You were never nasty about it because, after all, you two shared the same relationships, so you simply smiled and directed your family toward him with every inquiry. You didn't expect his relationship with your family to end just because you two weren't...you two?

And then another wave of questioning is aiding in your irritated mood, we're the two of you even best friends anymore. Best friends don't go months without speaking to each other.

Lewis can't help but watch your every move. It's obvious to everyone that there is a lingering tension between you two. There has never been a moment where the two of you weren't connected at the hip. So, the safe distance you're keeping between the two of you is making questions arise. He is standing off to the side, his mind running; he's never once felt like an outsider in your life more than now. His feelings were hurt because, for the first time, he was getting updates about you from others rather than being the one dishing the facts out. He's used to knowing everything when it comes to you, and now it feels like he's chapters behind in a book everyone else is close to finishing.

"I know my daughter." Your dad speaks up from behind Lewis as he watches him watch you. Lewis turns his head, catching sight of your father before walking and leaning his back onto the railing beside him. "And I know you just as well; why are you two acting like divorcée?"

"What's happened, my boy?"

Lewis shakes his head, eyes downcast to the glass in his hand. He couldn't tell your father that he'd spent the night of his birthday making love to you and having the most romantic twilight he'd ever experienced. He couldn't tell him that he spewed out his true feelings in the midst of it and fucked shit up the next morning.

"We haven't talked in months," Lewis admits.

Your dad leans away from Lewis, eyes set in disbelief. "Months?"

Lewis only nods, looking straight ahead at you. You're standing with his father infront of a group, his arm thrown over your shoulder, yours wrapped around his waist, his father is obviously a wee bit tipsy as he laughs boisterously, you're supporting his frame throwing in side comments to whatever story his father was telling.

"Do you want to talk to her?"

"Yes, sir."

"Then why are you not?" He inquires like it's all so simple.

"Because it's your daughter," he scoffs. "And when she's mad, she's mad. It's not that easy."

You father laughs, "She is her mother's daughter." He corrects. "You know her, eventually she always puts her pride to the side. She's waiting for you to talk to her first. Have you tried."

"No, sir."

He lets out a boisterous laugh that has a sheepish smile skittering onto Lewis' face.

"You're too old to still be scared of my baby. My best advice is this: you lot know each other better than anyone in the world and love each other more than anyone in the world. If you think she's willing to give that up and vice versa, you're both idiots."

Lewis nods. They stand in contemplative silence as the older man's hand comes up to clap against his shoulder, where he holds onto Lewis as they sip from their glasses.

"You know," Lewis lights up, "that's where she gets that shit from; she called me an idiot when we argued."

"And were you being an idiot?" He queries.

"Well, Yes, sir."

"Okay then." He walks away not sparing so much as another word to Lewis and he is once again left alone.

You were relieved when dinner started, only to approach the table and see name cards posted in front of every seat. Just your luck. Right next to your seat, the postcard next to you reads Sir Lewis.

This time, you physically couldn't control your reaction as you threw your hands on your hips, your eyes searching for someone to switch with. Just as you reached over to swap Lewis' and Anthony's place cards, the group approached, and everyone stared at you with inquisitive eyes as you slowly dropped them back into place.

You smiled, sliding into your designated seat, eyes straight ahead as your father and Lewis slipped into their own.

Lewis side-eyes you as he sees that it was his name you tried to swap. You were always so petty.

You feel his stare on you and give him your back to face as you focus on your father who stands tapping his wine glass with a knife.

Like always your father begins to give a speech. You loved listening to him speak, even if he was lecturing you, he always managed to engrain some life lesson into your memory.

"Welcome, family and friends. I want to first start off by saying I appreciate you all for coming; if you're here today, you're either family or a friend, so in the end, that makes you all family. No matter when or how I met you, you have touched a special place in my heart, and you've made this life of mine beautiful. We've all become connected somewhere along the line, and now, hopefully, we're stuck with each other for the rest of our lives. As each year goes on and I grow older with it, I am reminded of just how meaningful it is to carry relationships on with you from one year to the next. We've done that." He laughs.

"Most of us have been in each other's lives since the beginning, Anthony has been my best friend since we were nine." He chuckled tilting his glass at Lewis' dad. Anthony raises his own right back at him.

"We've done everything together, damn near walked through each part of our lives together. He had a son, and months later, I had my daughter. Bam!" he laughs, and the table laughs with him. You smile at the mention of your father and his best friend; they were truly a pair like no other.

"Our friendship continues on through our children; we pass on our camaraderie; through our kids, we get more kids." He motions around to your friends. "And our family is even bigger. I've got my family, I've got my wife's family, Anthony's family, our children's family, and we're all now family. We've got each other for life! We're proof of that; we stick together and treat each other right, and if we don't, we always find our way back together again and start over because that's what a family does. Every year, you guys show up for me, and I show up for you. And I can't think of a better way to spend my birthday than with you. Life is beautiful and even more beautiful when you're spending it with the right people. So I thank you for being the right people."

There are no dry eyes after his speech. You reach over to hug him when he sits, pressing your lips to his cheek. "I love you, Dad."

Chatter emerges as everyone marvels at your dad's words. To your left, Lewis is quite emotional. His dad's arm comes up to pull his son into his side, and for the first time today, you watch him with no shame. He looks like a kid again in his dad's arms as he gets emotional, and your heart breaks.

It's not in your character to be mean to Lewis. You know this, which is why you haven't even bothered being a bitch to him, even though a part of you desperately craves to hurt his feelings like yours has been for the last two months. You pull your phone from your purse, and before you unlock it, his reflection glares at you from your blank screen. He isn't facing you but staring blankly ahead, and your resolve crumbles slightly.

He looks like little Lew, face set in a frown and tuned out to the world around him. You think back to all of the times he'd get into his own head, bothered about why the other kids didn't talk to him and why they were nasty to him when they did. How many times he's nestled into you the same way when he felt his heart take a hit.

He's always been a softie. Wearing his heart on his sleeve, it was one of the things you admired about him so much. His ability to let people see him fully. You were never good at that. If you were, you could gaurantee that you and Lewis wouldn't even be in this situation to begin with.

You are sure that you can hear your heart beating rapidly as you reach down and grasp onto his hand. You pretend to scroll mindlessly through your phone when you hear his breath hitch. Lewis struggles to keep his resolve as he intertwines his fingers with yours. He could cry again right now.

Your dad was right; he'd always been right. You think back to the times when you were younger when you would tell him why you and Lewis were sitting so far apart.

"Baby," he would lift your head with a gentle smile, "You know how many times Anthony got on my damn nerves or we had a quarrel, even with your mother. Just have to talk it out, right? That's the kind of friendship you don't let slip away, no matter what. And if he's mad at you, you fight for him. If you're mad at him, you fight for him. Don't ever let something ruin it when you could fix it before it gets bad."

When the food comes out, your stomach flips, sushi lines the table, and your insides feel like they're being shaken. You snatch your hand from Lewis' and toss it over your mouth as the fish is placed in front of you.

"Baby, you love sushi." Your dad says, pushing your plate away from you.

"I don't know what-" You don't finish your sentence rushing away from the table in a put together manner, you hurry to the other side of the boat where you make it just in time to empty your stomach. Nothing comes out as you dry heave over the water. A hand comes to rub at your back and your hair is being held back.

"Hey, you okay?" It's Lewis and his tone is full of concern as his hand constanly moves in caring circles.

You jump away from his comforting hands, throwing a glare in his direction.

"What do you want?" you hiss, preparing to step down from the altitude of the railing.

He holds out his hand ready to help you down and you almost reach for it before huffing and turning baack around folding your arms over the railing. If the sushi wasn't going to have you throwing up Lewis prescence surly would. You felt overwhelmed as he speaks up from behind you.

"Wow."

"Wow, what, Lewis?"

"So I'm Lewis now?"

"Is that not your name?" You snap back.

You feel his body heat behind you, this time closer.

"Not to you, you know that though."

"Nicknames are for friends."

"Shut up." He smacks his teeth.

"No!" you argue, turning around your chest bumps into his, "You shut up!"

you both childishly bicker back and forth.

“What are you being mean to me for, huh? Don't say that."

"I've got a right to be mean to you."

"I don't got time for your nasty ass attitude right now." He says.

"Good. The fuck." you ramble, turning around, "nobody asked you to follow me."

"I followed you because you're still my best friend, stubborn ass."

"Couldn't tell." You rebutted.

"See, I'm trying to talk to you, y/n. Why say something like that? Stop acting like-." He groans.

"Like what, like a bitch?" You look at him over your shoulder, watching his face drop. "That's what I thought."

"I wasn't about to call you a bitch."

Yeah, again, you think.

You stand in silence for a while, listening to the sound of the water sloshing against the boat.

"Your dad has a knick for speeches." He announces, "Always targeting us, huh?"

"That's my dad for you."

"I-, you're still my best friend, that will never change. No matter how long we go without talking to each other."

"I know." It comes out as a sigh and you let out a groan, dropping your head into your folded arms.

"Why didn't you call me?" You ask, "I waited for you to call."

"I was scared, I knew I fucked up, and I think us having sex created a weird dynamic with it. I kinda felt like a booty call or something, I don't know; you trying to leave triggered something in me, made me feel like it wasn't..."

He lets out a sigh, and you know he has that hard thinking face on. "meaningful what we did together." He finally concludes.

"I thought that's what you would've wanted, I'm sorry."

"For other people, yes. But not my best friend."

And there are those two words again, like two blades slicing you in half, best friend, that's all you'd ever be.

Lewis was your best friend, nothing less, nothing more. This is all it'd ever be, and that thought alone, although valid, had you knuckling at your eyes.

"You okay, bunny?"

You can't help the sad smile that appears or the way your heart flutters at the nickname; no matter the situation, you'll always be his bunny.

You slump back against his chest as you step back from the railing. "I'm fucking dying," you whine, and he laughs at your dramatics.

"You're not dying, love." He chuckles. He stands flush behind you, one arm coming around to dangle off your shoulder, the other holding your hand at your side. "How are you going to tell me?" You huff, and it seems as if nothing ever happened between you two as he turns you around and holds you close; he throws both of his arms over your shoulder, wrapping you into his tight embrace, and your face is crammed in his neck, breathing in his scent.

And in that moment, you both could've sworn fireworks erupt in the sky as your hearts beat against each other's chest. It feels like the missing piece in your lives from the last two months has been returned, and the machine is running excellently.

"Because I know you, what's wrong, huh? Got a tummy ache." He coos. And his soft, caring tone has your stomach doing flips.

You don't know how long you stand there in his embrace before you finally wrap your arms around his torso.

"I'm still mad at you." You declare.

"I know."

"I still want an apology."

"I'm sorry."

You feel your nausea ease away as you sway to the beat of his heart against your chest.

This is the first moment of relief Lewis has felt in two months, his heart is not in a panicked state and his mind is even better off.

"I'm sorry for calling you an idiot. It's been bothering me since I said it." You announce, "I don't think you're an idiot. I still think you're the smartest person in the world."

Your eyes water as you apologize, and Lewis hears the sniffle you let out. You remember how much it hurt your heart to see Lewis struggle to catch on in school as a kid, the words the teachers would spit at him, and how he'd let it get to him. You never wanted to make him feel the same way.

"I don't want you to think of me like the rest of them."

Lewis grasps your shoulders, inching you away softly, "I'd never look at you that way," he declares. "I was being an idiot, I know how you meant it, bunny. I should be apologizing for what I said to you. I don't think you were being a bitch; I've never in my life thought about you that way or even remotely considered calling you out of your name. I was just mad."

His hands come up to cup your face, and his thumbs swipe away the wetness underneath your eyes. He sighs, pulling you back into him. "I don't ever wanna not talk to you again, fucked me up."

"But you never called me."

"Didn't think you wanted me to, didn't know what to do, you'd never been that mad at me before, was scared." He admitted.

"I thought you were finally done with me."

"Never that."

"Are we okay?" You examine.

"We're always going to be more than okay. It feels right with me still, yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Okay then, we're back like it never happened." He assured.

And he thinks he can stay like this forever, you in his arms as the sunsets on the boat. He can't think of anything more peaceful than watching the sky change colors and the warm hues making your skin glow in the softest way as he revels in the comfort of your warm body and beating heart.

He wants to unleash his feelings right then and there, "I love you."

"I love you more."

You both speak honestly, wishing that the other would return the same affection. Your parents watch on from above.

"Wouldn't know if it hit them over the head." Your mom shakes her head sipping her wine.

"So in their face." Anthony exhales, throwing his hand up, "Mhmm, mhm, mhm."

"Those are our kids, damn idiots." Your dad finishes, but unlike his counterparts, he wears a knowing smile on his face.

"There are a few things we need to clarify before we move on from this." You announce before you rejoin your family and friends.

"What's that?"

"That was a one-time thing for the sake of our friendship; no more sex, no more mentioning it; it never happened."

Lewis freezes in his spot, his arm falling from your shoulder as you take another step. You, too, freeze, turning around to take him in.

He is standing, his eyes furrowed like he's in deep thought.

That would be an easy rule for him to follow if he wasn't struggling as you speak to think about anything other than you every day and how great you felt around him.

"What?" You question.

"I-" he coughs, "I can do that."

"Don't make it weird." You warn, eyeing him.

"Was the best sex I've ever had in my life, though." He admits with a smirk. You push him away as he tries to wrap his arm around you again.

"Goodbye, Lewis." You laughed, walking ahead of him.

He happily stays behind you, watching the way your bottom moves in the dress, and once again, he feels the same burning desire. He could get by without mentioning it if you wanted, but he was absolutely and completely sure you ruined him for anyone else.

Ever since he could remember, his passionate moments never ensued without you flickering through his mind at least once to jump-start him. But actually having you, God he was sure he'd never see another woman again.

As you rejoin everyone else at the front of the boat, you once again see everyone spread out, and you realize just how long you'd been marveling at Lewis' presence as you notice the appearance of the moon.

You gasp as you see a serving bowl full of mango calling your name as you pass by the treat table. You pick it up with ease, stuffing your mouth as you approach your friends who, like always, have banded together in their own little world.

You make eye contact with Whitney, who is looking at you in pure wonder. You shoot her your own look of inquisition. When you take the empty seat beside her, she is still eyeing you like you have two heads.

"Girl, what?" you whisper, your mouth full of mango.

She shakes her head at you, turning and muttering under her breath. You slap her bare thigh, "what?" you whisper shout.

"We'll talk about it later." She declares, throwing back two shots back to back.

"Whit," you whine, "you know I hate when you do that."

"Yeah, but trust me, later is better."

You sigh, turning away from her and getting back to eating your fruit as Lewis approaches the group and takes the seat beside Mori. "Someone’s happy." Miles teases.

You look up at him, and sure enough, there is a shit-eating grin covering his face. "More than happy."

Whit is still mumbling to herself as you stare back at Lewis, when you look at her she is digging through her bag, "No, there's just now way."

Sure enough, as soon as you make your way back to the villa, Whitney is dragging you away from the rest of the group and into your bedroom. Lewis shoots you a questioning look as she yanks you from your seat. You can only shrug at him as you trip over your own two feet.

She opens the door to your connecting bathroom, waving her arms for you to enter dramatically after you just stand there and stare at her.

"Ouu, girl." You warn, walking past her, "I need you to start using some words."

When you step foot into the bathroom, she pushes something into your palm.

You angle your head down, realizing that what lies in your hand is a pregnancy test. You throw it at her in shock. "Eww bitch."

"It's not used, dummy." Whit catches it.

You gasp, reaching for her hands, "Oh my god! Are you pregnant?" You whisper shout, excitement seeping through.

"No!" She shouts back in a whisper closing your bathroom door. Your hands are cupped in front of your chest like an exicited child. She turns to face you again only this time she's adorning the most serious look she's ever given you.

"I think you are, though."

Your hands drop down to your sides, one going to your hip that pokes out as you scoff.

"Whit." It's all you say.

"Y/n. Please just take it, ease my mind."

"What even makes you think I could be pregant whit." You huff pulling the stick from her waiting hand.

She sits on the side of the bathtub as you lift your dress and plop down onto the toilet.

"You've been feeling out of it for a while; at first, I thought it was the heat, but you've been having nausea and headaches long before this trip. The smell of alcohol makes you sick, and you're a fucking alcoholic, c'mon now-"

"I am not a fucking alcoholic-"

"The sushi! You fucking love sushi. Out of everything to eat, an entire fucking serving bowl of mangoes, so many fucking mangoes, Y/n!"

As she continues, you begin to feel nerves bubble in your gut as you tinkle onto the test.

Your heart drops to your ass as you put the pieces together.

You haven't had a period in two months, which didn't raise any alarms before; irregularity was common for you. But now that you think about it, you have been unusually sick in the mornings and around certain foods and smells. You have been craving some things more than usual, and your scale shows a tiny bit of weight gain.

Two months ago you had sex with Lewis. With no condom, and he came inside of you. He most definitely fucked his cum back into you. The memory has you clutching your chest with a gasp that made Whit reach out to catch you just in case you toppled over.

"Oh my fucking god." you gasp, pulling the stick from beneath you and tossing it onto the sink. You wipe yourself and then stand to wash your hands.

"Oh fuck." you panic, and your hands are coming up to grasp your head.

"On the bright side, if it's positive, you're a mommy. You've always wanted to be a mom!" Whit cheers softly.

You turn to her with quickness. "Yes, Whit! When I'm fucking married and settled down, not when I fucking-"

The alarm tone from Whit's phone has you shutting up mid-sentence.

"I set the alarm when you peed," she whispered meekly.

She motions for you to pick up the test, and you wanna tell her to get out when you see the excitement covering her face.

You reach behind you, hand tapping blindly against the counter until the stick is in your hand.

You close your eyes and take a deep breath through your nose.

When you open your eyes, you see the result clear as day, which has you clutching your pearls.

"I'm going to pass out, I can't breathe."

"Let me see!" Whit all but shouts, jumping up, but you're already reaching for the door handle.

"Where are you going?" She shrieks as you swing the door open, leaving her behind.

"I need to tell Lewis."

"Oh boo," she pouts, "I understand he's your best friend and all, but at least tell me first, I'm the one who brought the test."

You turn to her with watery eyes and a look that tells her all she needs to know.

"Lewis is the baby's father?" She whisper shouts, jumping back like you've thrown cold water in her face.

"What the fuck? When did you sleep with fucking Lewis?" She ponders aloud. "Oh my god, is this why you two haven't been you two?"

"Whit," you groan. "I promise, I don't have the mental capacity to unpack all of this with you right now. There's a fucking baby growing inside of me, my best friend's baby and I don't know what to do with myself."

"Yeah," she nods sympathetically, "I'm sorry, yeah. You talk to Lewis and when you're ready I'll be here for you to lean on." She pulls you into a hig before grasping you by the shoulders.

"Whatever you decide just remeber it's your choice, okay? You call the shots Y/n. You know I'll support you either way, and you know Lewis, he'll understand."

You sniffle, wiping your cheeks with the back of your palm.

"Get yourself together, mama, I'm going to send him in, okay?"

You nod and rush over to your closet. You pull a pair of sweats on and then pull off your dress and toss on an oversized hoodie.

There is a knock on your door before it gently creaks open. Lewis pokes his head through with a gentle smile.

"Hey, everything okay? Whit told me to meet you in here, I didn't know if she wanted to strangle me or hug me, but she said it was urgent."

You shove the pregnancy test into the pocket of your hoodie, stepping out of the closet.

He enters the room, gently closing the door. He approaches you with his arms already open, seeing the teary expression.

"Lewis, can you actually sit down for me. I have to talk to you about something."

He's not sure what he expects to come from your mouth, but it wasn't what he heard.

"I'm pregnant. It's yours."

You surely weren't expecting him to look so relieved. "Why are you looking so-"

"Are you sure?"

You scoff, crossing your arms, "Yes, I'm sure it's yours, you dick. I don't sleep around-"

"What, no! Are you positive that you're pregnant?"

"Oh." You halt, and you pull the test from your hoodie, watching as he approaches you. He takes it from your hands, looking at it with sparkling eyes, "Wow."

"Wow?" You question, "Lewis, I'm pregnant with your child. Freak out a little."

"Why," he asks, "Are you freaking out? How do you feel?" His eyes are no longer on the test in his hands but staring intently into yours.

"Yes, I am freaking out, there is a fetus in my womb."

"Yeah, yeah." He breathes. "Whew, talk to me. What do you want?"

"I- I want to." You shake your head, pushing past him to sit on your bed. He follows after kneeling in front of you and placing the test beside you.

"I am with whatever you want, you know that, right?"

"Yes, but."

"But nothing," Lewis states. "If you want to keep our baby, you keep it. I know you've always wanted a family."

"Exactly," you sigh, "a family."

"Bunny, we're already a family. I'll be there you know I will."

"What about everyone else? What will they say?"

"I don't care about other people or what they have to say. I only care about you and what you want."

"I want to keep it, and I understand if it's not something you want. Won't hold it against you; you didn't ask for-"

"You're losing me. I'm not just going to let you raise our kid on your own. I want people to know it's my child."

"Lewis, they're going to-"

"Once again, I don't care what people think."

"Oh my god, I'm going to be prancing around all jolly and happy carrying your child, and when people ask, I'll just say, oh yeah, Lewis and I had very erotic sex, and now I'm carrying his illegitimate child."

"Don't call my child illegitimate. What the fuck?" He smacks his teeth.

"My child," you state, mushing his head back.

His hands reach up and rest on each of your thighs. "Our child."

"Still illegitimate," you sigh. "What if I find a man who'll marry me pregnant? Does that still-"

"I'm the Dad." Lewis asserts, he knows you're joking, but the idea of another man marrying you, let alone claiming his child, has him ready to kill a man who doesn't even exist. Besides, he would marry you in a heartbeat.

This is all too real for you at the moment, and you find yourself letting out another whine, "My job, I have a job, Lew."

"You and I both know that I make more money than I can spend." He assures you, his hands now rubbing up and down your legs.

He looks like an excited puppy waiting at your feet.

"Lew, that's not realistic."

"Why not?" He scoffs.

"Because what if one day you start hating me and them I'm left alone with-"

"That could never happen, bunny, that'll never happen."

"I'm sorry, I'm just nervous. I've never had a baby before."

He laughs, pulling himself up onto the bed beside you and cupping your hands in his. "We'll figure it out together. Gonna be the best parents in the world."

"Our parents are going to die." You laugh.

"Your mom probably overheard the others chatting about how we'd probably end up having a family one day."

"My dad still thinks we're going to marry each other one day. Ew, he's going to know I had sex with you." You cringe.

"Don't say it like you didn't enjoy it." He feigns offense.

"We know who enjoyed it more, Sir."

"I'm not denying it, don't call me that." His arm reaches back and pulls one of your pillows onto his lap.

"You horny fuck." You cackle, watching the sheepish look blanket his expression.

"I can't help it; you're calling me sir; you're carrying my child. That's two kinks in one."

"Lewis!" you shriek, whacking him with your own pillow.

"You do realize having sex has brought a lot of sexual tension to the surface, or is that just me?"

You could talk about things with Lewis that would make other people uncomfortable without there being any problems at all.

"It was very charged." You agree, looking back at him as he leans back, his elbows holding him up.

"Just charged? I gave you my all, Girl." He flicks your head.

"Don't hit me, I'm with child." You joke, and he lets out a genuine laugh, his head falling back. "If I'm being honest, it was the best sex I've ever had, too."

He smirked at you, shrugging his shoulders like it's no big deal. "Yeah, get told that a lot, so."

You snatch the pillow from his lap launching it at his face as you laugh with him, "I bet. I always thought if we were to have kids they'd be best friends like us, now we're having a kid together."

Lewis always hoped that he had kids with you, so in a way this was a dream come true, he was one step closer to having you in every way he wanted. He had an inkling now that the possibility of the two of you being together was becoming more realistic than it'd ever been.

You were agreeing to bring a life into this world with him, and he knows he's said it a million times, but this time he was absolutely sure, there was nothing and he means nothing that could ever make his love for you fade. He'd never stop loving you, if anything this announcement has made his desires increase tenfold.

And he could only hope it'd possibly open your eyes to your own, there was no way a person could speak to another like that if it wasn't real. There was no way you could be so open to bringing a child into this world with him if you didn't treasure him too.

Case in point, Lewis was done waiting on the sidelines.

I luv luv luv y'all.

so here's part two!

I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

#black reader #L #lewis hamilton #formula 1 #formula one #f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fic #lewis ham #lewis hamilton imagine

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slytherinslut0 · 2 days

Text

mattheo riddle | focus.

PAIRING: Mattheo Riddle x Fem!Reader

SUMMARY: you thought you were just going to have a peaceful night with your boyfriend, cuddling while watching the newest episode of The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills. you thought.

WORD COUNT: 4.1k. (i’m sorry?)

TAGS: 18+, SMUT MDNI, praise kink, some teasing, matty being an absolute dawg per usual, unable to keep those delicious hands to himself, maybe like the tiniest bit of degradation, fingering, multiple orgasm, PIV, doggy/prone-bone, um yeah the usual filth i provide.

DEDICATION: this was a little bday gift for my lovely friend @pizzaapeteer🤍 hope u had the best day bbygirl ilysm!

"Matt," you exhaled your boyfriends name, leisurely rubbing your tired eyes. "...any minute now, please."

A muffled yawn from inside the bathroom was the only outward sign of his acknowledgment before he appeared in the doorframe--like a vision materializing from a dream. Your groggy eyes clung to his shadow, watching as he lazily sauntered toward you--looking cozy, yet as exhausted as ever.

It’d been a busy day for you both, between his quidditch tournament finally drawing to a close and your ruthless potions exam--you’d found yourselves lacking routine, your schedules treacherously out of sync--because not only had you not seen each other since this morning, the way the day had started was frantic enough to send your mood into sours so intense it’d make a fucking lemon grimace.

There was no cuddles, no intimate shower time, and certainly no morning sex. The only bout of intimacy Mattheo was able to steal from you was a quick peck on the cheek before you scurried out the door, desperate to cram in as much studying as you could.

It was safe to say that by this point, the two of you were fucking spent, slightly annoyed, and most certainly, drained. And all you’d been thinking about--for the entirety of your day, was getting to snuggle, catch the latest episode of your favourite muggle/guilty-pleasure show, preceded by dozing off embraced within your boyfriend’s loving arms.

"Look, I love you and all, but can't we watch something else?" He was so utterly unenthused you'd think you were forcing him to watch paint dry, his expressions a mirror to his tone as he combed a hand through his hair. "Something that maybe won't give me a bloody headache."

Messy chocolate curls framing brooding brown eyes, grey sweatpants and a black hoodie was all that it took to make you rethink your plans for the evening. It was clear to you, almost immediately, that Mattheo wasn’t as deterred by the craziness of the day as you were. You could see that twinkle in his eye, that hunger barred behind cheeky grins and teasing words.

You rolled your eyes, biting your lip in attempt to quell your smirk. "Oh, come on, Mattheo," you teased, shifting on the comforter to make space for him beside you. "You know deep down you love the drama. That's practically your middle name."

"If I'm being completely honest," your boyfriend scoffed, settling into bed beside you. "I'd probably enjoy it more if we turned the volume off."

Your face flushed with warmth as Mattheo immediately drew you into him, one arm slipping under your head while the other coasted a light path up your thigh. A pair of lips pressed to your neck, wet and soft against your aching skin, igniting bliss to burn a scorching heat in your belly. Against your better judgement and instigated by a force well beyond your control, you sighed--exhausted lids fluttering shut as you revelled in the warmth his presence evoked within you.

It right was then, that you knew--as instinctual as breathing--that simply watching your show and going to bed wasn’t going to be enough for your boyfriend. Of course you wanted him--wanted him just as bad as he wanted you--but your exhaustion was prevailing, and therefore, so was your brattiness.

He was going to have to be patient. He was going to have to work for it.

So with a sharp inhale, and in an honest attempt to avoid the volcano of desire before it erupted irrevocably, you turned your back to him--seeking refuge from the imminent intoxication that came along with your boyfriend's perfect lips.

"Wow, Matty," you teased, "and here I was actually considering letting you be the little spoon for once..." you fixed your sight on the TV, fighting to ignore his touch on your hip. "Guess you'll just have to be the big spoon all night."

Mattheo's chuckle rumbled against your back as he tightened his embrace, his warmth enveloping you completely. His lips brushed against your ear, and you could practically hear the exhaustion in his tone, his voice as rough as gravel.

"That's not the punishment you thought it'd be, princess," he murmured, the cheeky grin on his lips practically audible, each syllable tickling the back of your neck as he spoke. "This just gives me something far more interesting to focus on than that dumb show of yours."

You couldn't stop yourself from tsking him, a giggle escaping your lips as you gently pulled his wandering fingers away from your backside, intertwining them with your own. This was one of the many things you adored about him—the way he couldn't seem to keep his hands off you whenever you were together.

"Nuh-uh, Mattheo Riddle--your focus is on the show," your attempt to scold him was warring with the need to keep your voice steady, playfully tilting your head back slightly to meet his gaze. "I know you're just dying to find out who said what behind whose back, aren't you?”

Mattheo huffed, an exhale of pure amusement. A certain intoxicating devilism that you knew all-too-damn-well twinkled in his honeyed irises as he caught your gaze, scorching heat over your skin.

"I'm dying for something, undoubtedly," his arm beneath your head curled inward, large palm finding a handful of your breast and kneading it. Before you could react, his lips graced your earlobe, and he drew it into his mouth, nibbling it, forcing an eminent whimper to flee your throat. "And it's not that."

Involuntarily, you groaned--a noise of pure restraint--your other hand moving up to tug his fervent fingers away from your chest. It took every ounce of your willpower to hold back a sigh of desperation as you mentally reminded yourself of your prior mantra.

Make him be patient. Make him work for it.

"Matty, quit being a brat," you muttered, playful scolding tracing your tone. You honestly couldn't believe you'd just said that. "We’ve both had such a long day…let’s just watch this and goto sleep, yeah?"

His response was a low, rumbling murmur, his voice thick with desire as he turned his head toward the television, his fingers still for the moment.

"You're so right, baby," he conceded, his breath warm against your neck. "I'm just watching the show. I don't even know what you're--"

"Mattheo," you interjected, a hint of warning in your tone, and he let out an exaggerated huff, falling silent. After a moment, you giggled at him. "Salazar help you."

Even without seeing his face, you could practically hear the cheeky grin on his perfect lips spreading from ear to goddamn ear. You were certain he was seeing right through you.

"Alright, alright, I'll behave," he said, though his voice betrayed him. There wasn't one ounce of sincerity in those devastatingly deep cords. "Would you just like, stop squirming, though? It's distracting."

You rolled your eyes. Gods, how you wanted to smack him while simultaneously kissing his perfect, annoying face. "Matt, I literally haven't moved."

Mattheo shrugged, his breathy chuckle washing over your neck, his eyes now fixed on the TV. As the two of you settled into stillness, you exhaled--his playful antics never failed to humour you, a reminder of the delightful chaos that came with dating this messy, yet undeniably wonderful boy. Sometimes, it truly felt like living in your own reality TV show, though you wouldn't have it any other way.

Nestled in his embrace, a sense of tranquility washed over you as you immersed yourself in the drama that this weeks episode had to offer. However, as the clock ticked on and the show progressed, you could feel Mattheo's restlessness grow stronger behind you.

His movements were subtle at first--a shift here, a slight adjustment there, but soon enough, his hands began to wander after breaking free from your hold, tracing delicate patterns along your skin. Despite your efforts to remain focused on the show, the sensation of his touch was relentless, subtle ministrations laced with clear intent that had you distracted from the TV without much effort.

"Mattheo," you whispered, trying to sound stern but failing as a soft sigh escaped your lips.

"Shh, princess," he cooed, voice so sweet it was sugar incarnate. "We're watching the show, aren't we?"

You couldn't help but roll your eyes at his teasing, but before you could protest further, his hand moved to roam along the curve of your waist, leaving a trail of heat in its wake. Your breath caught in your throat, his touch igniting a familiar spark between you, threatening to engulf you both in a different kind of drama altogether--one that had absolutely nothing to do with the show on the television.

And you longed to utter something, anything--longed to form some semblance of coherent speech--but words would simply elude you as Mattheo's hand continued its eager exploration, mapping every inch of your curves as it started trailing its way from your hip down your thigh and back up, softly rolling his hips against your backside.

Somehow, throughout all this, you kept your eyes focused on the screen in front of you--hardly even daring to blink--though your mind was monopolized by the feeling of his calloused palm catching on the fabric of your leggings, the way his fingernails dug into your flesh as he gripped your hip, gripped your thigh, gripped your waist--anywhere his hungry hand could find purchase.

"I want you," his voice was a breath on your neck, his grip bruising your hip as he bucked into you. "So fucking bad."

You whined from lust, your vision fogged by need. His words sent heat straight to your cunt. "Matt..."

"I know, baby," his tongue drew a wet line up the side of your neck toward your ear, and he whispered into it. "Watch the show. Just let me take care of you.”

A lump formed in your throat, your mind so clouded with desire that forming a coherent response seemed impossible, your teeth clawing at your bottom lip to prevent any sounds from slipping out as his other hand moved to grope your chest, kneading your breast within his palm.

Your entire body was in flame, and the truth hung heavy in the air--of course, you wanted him just as desperately as he wanted you, and were more than willing to abandon the show and lose yourself in his touch--but it was frustrating, maddening even, how effortlessly he could disarm you, even while exhausted.

A mere whisper, a few tender touches, and you were putty in his hands, melting under his gaze. So much for making him work for it.

Mattheo hummed and bit the tender flesh between your neck and shoulder, sucking an angry, puckering red mark into it while he continued to grind against your ass, his throbbing desire jabbing you, seeking friction.

"Keep those eyes on the screen, baby." Gods, that bastard. That beautiful fucking bastard. Impossible to resist, completely useless to attempt to ignore. "Forget that I'm even here, yeah?"

A whimper escaped your lips, a tacit admission of how adeptly Mattheo had unraveled you, his touch igniting a starving fervour that coiled tight within you. He possessed an uncanny ability to unravel your defenses, leaving you malleable and pliant under his fingertips, consumed by an overwhelming need that pulsed with every beat of your heart.

"That's..." the words died on your tongue as he kissed your neck again--one hand moving to slip underneath your shirt and the other bruising your hip with his grip, pulling you closer against him. "...impossible."

"Oh, is it?" a pleased huff escaped him, his curls tickling the sensitive skin below your ear as he buried his face against it, teeth grazing your pulse. "Are you saying you can't multitask, baby? You want me to stop-"

"No," you cried out without hesitation as he finally glided up your stomach and slipped under your bra, thumb brushing against your nipple. "I...I can do both."

"Mhm, yeah you can," he purred, five slender digits slipping down to caress between your thighs, grazing over your mound and resting there for a moment, feeling your heat through your leggings. "You can do both because you're my good fucking girl, aren't you?"

His tone was intoxicating, the teasing and gentle praise melding together, creating a concoction brewed with the sole purpose of making your fucking head spin. Each word he uttered seemed to fan the flames of desire within you. Your teeth dug into your lower lip, wanting to plug as many noises as possible, his mouth moving from below your ear and slithering up to the line of your jaw.

Gathering yourself with a sharp inhale, you nodded. "Yes, Matty, I am..."

One hand shifted to your other breast and he groaned against your cheek, flooding your flesh with warmth as his fingers kneaded it, thumb twirling over the sensitive bud, erection grinding against you with another harsh snap of his hips.

"You are what, baby..." he muttered, burying his face back into the crook of your neck, his thick hair soft on your skin. "Wanna' hear you say it."

Another whimper escaped you, loud and shameless as his hand between your thighs shifted slightly, pressing against your clit for a moment before releasing pressure. You knew what he was after. You knew he wasn't going to give you what you wanted until he got it.

"I'm..." you choked on your breath, forcing the rest of the words past your teeth. "I'm your good girl, Matty."

Your arousal surged to dizzying heights, eclipsing any awareness of the television's presence in the room. Your focus had been hijacked, seized by the insatiable force of the hungry heathen at your back.

"Yeah, that's right, baby," Mattheos fingers sprung to action again, dragging the pads of his pointer and middle tantalizingly slow along your slit, teasing you through your leggings, your back arching instinctively as you fought the urge to grind against his touch. "Say it again for me."

You growled in frustration, feeling the heat blaze over your skin as his breath ghosted over your neck. Inhaling sharply, you fought to gather whatever shreds of sanity remained within you.

"Your good fucking girl, Matty," you declared, the words dripping with equal parts hunger and desperation. "All yours. Only yours."

Mattheo's response was a low, guttural growl of approval, his grip tightening possessively as he pulled you closer against him. His teeth dug into your shoulder as he finally sprung into action, hand on a hunt, tracking up to find the band of your leggings and slipping beneath it.

"That's fucking right," he murmured, his voice rough with desire. "All mine.”

Without wasting another second he slid two digits along your slit, pulling apart your slick folds and dragging the rough pads of his fingers over your clit--maddeningly slow. His grip on your breast tightened, breath leaving his lungs in shallow grunts as fervour engulfed him--engulfed you, engulfed the room and set it in flame.

"All yours." you whimpered, nodding.

"My good fucking girl, always so wet for me--so eager, hm?" Your moans filled the room as he took those two thick fingers and slid them into your cunt, the feel of your walls stretching around him igniting a quiet groan from his throat. "All day without this pussy and you really expect me to be able to keep my fucking hands off you? You're all I've been thinking about..."

Then, his thumb was on your clit while he curled his digits inside of you, stroking that sweet spot of raised flesh, your trembling hands flailing to find his arms, fingers digging into his skin, grounding you as though he was your lifeline, your anchor in the rough sea of pleasure he was providing.

"Gods, Matty." Your lids were squeezed tight, lips pinched together, rubbing your head against his as the heat from his mouth grew sweat on your neck. "You're all I--ah--all I think about too..."

Mattheo groaned again, working fast, building the pressure inside of you in record speed, warm heat rushing out over your skin. Your walls throbbed around him, heart a rabid animal barred beneath your sternum, and he added a third digit, pinching your nipple with his other hand--sending stars shooting behind your lids.

"My good girl isn't focusing on the show, is she?" His voice was the tantalizing depth of a black hole, sucking you into his orbit. You forced your eyes open. "You wanna' cum you better start focusing, princess."

Your brain was short circuiting--your mind fogged by a desire so intense it eclipsed any awareness of the television before you. Though your eyes registered its presence in the room, its glow seemed distant and hazy, as if it existed in separate realm from the searing heat encompassing you. You glimpsed it, focused on it, but your brain couldn't quite grasp its purpose as the only thing that held any significance in your consciousness was the sensation of your boyfriend's fingers, relentlessly driving you closer and closer to the edge of euphoria.

"That's better." He hummed, lips pecking at your cheek. "So good for me," his fingers scissored inside you, thumb increasing its pace on your clit. "So, so good."

Your ears rang, your sight blurring. You were so fucking close. "Matty, fuck—I'm gonna-"

Your boyfriend groaned. "Cum for me, baby."

Without needing any further instruction, the coil of pressure inside of you burst, exploding through your skin and enveloping you in a hot, convulsing warmth--you were crying out, cumming hard around him, your walls clamping down on his fingers, pulling him into your body as you pulsed and throbbed with pleasure. You thought you'd kept your eyes open, though you couldn't entirely be sure as your sight blanked, your consciousness consumed by a days worth of pent up sexual energy.

As Mattheo slowly withdrew his hand from beneath your leggings and distanced himself slightly, his voice carried a palpable strain. "Turn over, facing the TV."

Confusion flickered across your features as you blinked, glancing over your shoulder at him. "What?"

"Face the TV, on your stomach," he repeated, his voice firm yet tinged with a hint of desperation. "Please."

You watched as he palmed his throbbing, angry erection through the fabric of his grey sweats, and every single nerve ending in your body roared to life again. Still buzzing with the remnants of your climax, you quickly moved, shifting onto your stomach and facing the TV like he asked, unable to shake the boiling anticipation churning within your core.

You could feel Mattheo's dark eyes boring holes into your flesh, searing the seams of your skin as he shifted up onto his knees and moved between your legs behind you. Two strong hands gripped your thighs, and you tried to peer at him over your shoulder before he tsked you playfully.

"Focus on the screen, baby." There’s that sweet voice again. Sweet like honey oozing off his lips. “Be good.”

Your boyfriend was methodical, moving without urgency even though you knew that he was more than vibrating with it. Leaning down, he pressed soft kisses along the back of your thighs, slowly journeying upward, tracing a path to the curve of your ass cheek where he playfully sank his teeth into the plump flesh, eliciting a shudder that rippled through your body.

You suppressed a moan, the sound caught in your throat as his hands found purchase, kneading and groping the sensitive flesh between his digits.

“Matty..."

A low hum of satisfaction reverberated against your skin as he continued his exploration, his fingers deftly hooking around the band of your leggings and underwear. With a teasing tug, he began to pull them down your thighs, revealing the fresh expanse of your skin inch by tantalizing inch.

"Shh," he cooed. “Beautiful girl.”

The breath in your chest was a rapid circle, your entire body trembling with desperation. The moment your pants were off, you felt Mattheo's hands shifting to his own, a soft groan escaping him as he freed himself from the confining material. Without hesitation, he loomed over you, his presence dominating as he leaned forward to snake a hand around your throat, forcing your head in place, facing the TV as he aligned himself with your centre.

"Since you're having trouble focusing, I'll help you," his fingers wrapped around your jaw, his breath hot on your ear. "My good fuckin' girl."

A cyclone was roaring in your brain, tearing apart coherent trains of thought with primitive, physical clamoring. You felt him glide the head of his cock between your thighs, slicking himself in the wetness he'd caused, teasing you with false thrusts before he finally pushed in, spearing you open with one long, deep, slow thrust.

"Fuck." His breath was a hidden hiss through his teeth as you groaned, walls clenching around his cock. "Been waiting all day for this, baby. Fuckin’ tight little pussy."

His grip intensified on your jaw, his breath washing warm over your ear as he pulled out slowly and slammed back in. You couldn't think, couldn't speak--brain already cock-drunk, inebriated by lust.

"Matty," you gasped, gripping the wrist to the hand holding your head in place. "Fuck."

"Mhm, that's right," his voice was shattered, his tone strained against his throat. Each thrust was deeper, harder, faster than the last one, his curls tickling your cheek as he nuzzled his head in the crook of your neck--warm, wet lips pressing against your pulse. "So fucking tight. Fuck, I missed this--fuckin’ missed you."

You whimpered, struggling with every ounce of your existence to keep your eyes open, to remain focused on the glowing box infront of you--but you weren't even sure if Mattheo cared much about that anymore. Even without seeing his face you knew he was above you, looking down--teeth barred, jaw tensed and pupils blown wide with lust.

You knew he was just as gone as you were.

"Fuck," Mattheo snarled, fucking deeper, his hips smacking against your ass with every angry thrust, drowning out the sounds of the show. His hand moved under your belly, reaching for your clit and quickly connecting with it, causing you to writhe and spasm against his hold. "How's that feel, princess."

Little choked moans left you while your jaw hung slack, his cock pounding into you--then his fingers hit just the right spot, and the massive, asphyxiating pressure inside of you bordered on the very edge of exploding.

"Fuck," you replied, as though it was the only word that you seemed capable of reliably saying. "Fuck—good, Matty...so good..."

"That's right," he muttered. "You're so beautiful like this, so fucking perfect." He held you fast, pounding your cunt, catching groans in his throat. "You have no idea what you do to me."

You groaned. His words alone were enough to make your head spin. "Fuck—"

Delirium ascended into ecstasy, pleasure amplified by the stretch of his dick fucking you deep. His weight pinned you to the mattress, his hand holding your head firm as he growled in your ear with each harsh thrust, pent up sexual tension pouring off of him and threatening to drown you beneath it.

"Mhm. Little slut. Dumbed out on my cock." A low moan left you, the heat and friction and feverish thrusts sending your sanity to space. His fingers circled your clit faster, and you tweaked, eyes rolling. "Poor thing couldn't even focus on the screen if she tried, could she?"

"No—fuck, I can't." Bliss burned to burst, stars swarmed your sight entirely, and you knew it, knew it was happening, knew that you were about to break. "I—I wanna' cum for you, Matty...please..."

"Go ahead, princess." He cooed. "Cum for me."

You clamped down on his swollen length, your orgasm cleaving you in half as you shook with euphoria, heat and pleasure tearing all the way to your fingertips and toes. Mattheo keened, grip on your jaw turning almost painfully tight as he groaned and drove into you with a final thrust, cum spilling into you, hips snapping while he convulsed with the tremors of his falling climax.

The room was spinning, your bodies stuck with sweat, every breath of air too hot, too thick with sex. Your boyfriend's face was still nestled into your neck, and, exhausted too, you let your head be entirely supported by his hand, exhaling a long, trembling breath.

After a moment, Mattheo rolled off and slumped down onto the mattress beside you, grinning. “Good thing we can just rewind, hm?”

You grinned, letting out a breathy laugh as he pulled you into his chest. “You’re something else, Mr. Riddle.”

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twirlyleafs · 3 days

Text

“Gold-digger.” (Pt2) (pt1 here)

Max Verstappen x reader

TW: nothing really, angsty? lol

A/N: oml so many of you asked for a part 2 and I’m just so happy you liked the first part!! thank uuu!!

~~~~

To say that you slept bad was an understatement. The moment Daniel let you in to his and Heidi’s hotel room you had started crying and it took almost half an hour before the couple got a sense of what had happened. They’d been at the dinner, hearing Maxs comments, and after piecing it together with what you were telling them now they began to see the bigger picture. Heidi sat with you on the balcony while Daniel made up the couch, insisting you should share the bed with his girlfriend despite your objection.

You hadn’t been able to sleep that much, and it wasn’t because Daniel’s snoring or Heidi’s tossing and turning. Every time you were about to fall asleep you could hear Maxs voice telling you what a shitty girlfriend you were, or you imagined him complaining to his friends that you used up his money like some sort of gold digger. You knew he didn’t think quite like that, and he definitely wouldn’t do any of those things but the knowledge of how he saw your whole relationship had you spiraling.

When Daniel woke, he was always an early riser, he found you already wide awake and anxious. The Aussie knew by the look on your face that you didn’t want to leave the safety of the hotel room alone and he quickly invited you to breakfast. Said and done, Daniel kissed his sleeping girlfriend goodbye before the two of you trudged out in the hallway. It was still early enough that everything was quiet and empty, the only sound being your yawn and Danny typing on his phone.

“You think they have pancakes?” You asked, rubbing your eyes as you walked. He hummed, looking up from his phone with a small smile.

“I hope so. I need some.”

“Yeah.” You scoffed. “Me too. And I need them to practically be swimming in chocolate sauce and-“ You stopped, both talking and walking, when you saw a door open further down the hallway. Daniel walked a few more steps, glancing between Max stepping out of the room and you with an apologetic pout. He must’ve told Max you were coming. Asshole. You met his gaze and he mouthed a sorry, making you shake your head before carefully looking over at the man standing in the doorway. He offered an unsure smile. Daniel grabbed your arm, giving you no choice but to start walking again. When the two of you reached Max he gave you an encouraging squeeze and patted Max on the shoulder before he disappeared down the hallway. You should’ve known you couldn’t trust Daniel.

“Hey.” Max said softly, making you look up at him. You took note of the dark circles under his eyes and judging by the way his face fell he probably noticed how red yours were.

“Hi.”

“You wanna talk?” Max opened the door a bit wider and with a soft nod you snuck past him into the room. You heard him let out a breath of relief and you found yourself being almost grateful that he seemed to be just as nervous as you were. You sunk down on the edge of the bed, watching as Max sat down in one of the chairs. He rubbed his hands over his face before leaning forward, elbows resting on his knees. “How are you feeling?”

You shrugged and pulled your legs up under yourself, casting your gaze down on your fiddling fingers. “Not to good, I guess.” You answered honestly, Max answering with a soft hum, agreeing. Things were quiet for a while before he spoke up.

“Are you still angry?” You would’ve been annoyed at the question if it wasn’t for the genuine sadness in his voice. Instead you shook your head.

“No. Just a bit sad I think.”

“I didn’t mean to make you sad schatje.” His words were almost whispered. You looked up at him through lashes.

“Do you still believe we’re only together because you’re paying me?”

“That was never- that not what I meant.” He practically whined, shaking his head. “I love you.”

“You just don’t think I actually love you? I’m just using you for your money?” Max gave you a defeated look, shaking his head quickly.

“That’s not-“

“It’s exactly what you said Max!” You exclaimed, interrupting him. You felt the tears pressing behind your eyes again. “Do you know how much of a bad fucking girlfriend I feel like knowing that’s how you see us? Me?” His eyes widened slightly but he didn’t have time to say anything before you started talking again. “I mean, I would’ve paid for my own food, my own travels- everything! If I just knew you felt like that I wouldn’t have let you spend your money on me but you always insist and you’ve always told me you wanted to-“

“I do want to.” He intervened quickly.

“But you want to for the wrong reasons. You want to because you think you need to, because you think I want you to.” When your eyes met again you could tell Max didn’t know what to say. His mouth opened and closed again, no words coming out as his gaze faltered to the ground. You reached up and quickly wiped a stray tear, sniffing quietly as the silence settled. It felt like forever before you heard Maxs voice again.

“I don’t know what to say.”

“I don’t either.” You agreed.

“Let’s just-“ Max sighed, scratching the stubble on his cheek. “Let’s just go home, yeah?” When you didn’t answer he leaned forward slightly, trying to get your attention. You slowly raised your gaze to met his, both your eyes portraying to much emotions to process.

“I think I need to be alone for a bit.”

“Yeah, okay. Yeah sure.” He nodded, swallowing harshly. “I’ll- eh, I’ll go down to breakfast and you can order up? If you want to? And then I’ll text you when it’s time to leave for the airport?”

“No, Max.” You shook your head, face contorting in a sad frown. He paused, offering an encouraging nod. He wanted you to tell him what you needed, how to fix this. He was willing to do whatever you wanted. Or at least he thought so. “I think I need to be alone for more than a few hours. Like, I think I should travel alone back home, maybe even back to my parents for a bit. Just to-“

“Wait.” You hated the look of panic mixed with pure hurt that flashed across his face as he sat up a bit straighter. “Wait, no, y/n please.”

“I’m not saying that we’re breaking up Max.” You assured him, watching with a heavy heart as he stood, quickly making his way over to you. The second he sat down next to you on the edge of the bed his hands found yours and you could feel the panic seeping through his fingers.

“I get that I fucked up. I get that. I shouldn’t have said what I said, I didn’t mean it. Liefje please don’t-“

“Max.”

“Please don’t leave me. You know I love you, right?” With every word his voice lost its steadiness and you could practically hear his heart beating out of his chest. “I love you so much-“

“Max.” You interrupted him again, pulling your hand from his grasp to reach up and cup his cheek. “I know, alright? I know. I love you too.” His eyes flickered between yours, unconsciously leaning into your palm.

“Don’t leave.”

With a soft breath you leaned in to press a light kiss against his lips before shuffling closer, letting him wrap his arms around your body. When you placed your head against his chest he tightened his grip, terrified of letting go. The two of you sat like that, just holding each other for what felt forever. You thought back on the past twelve hours. The words that had been said, the insecurities that’d bubbled up. You knew Max never meant to hurt you, you knew that even before you entered his hotel room this morning but the conversation you just had cemented it. The man currently holding you tightly against his chest was the love of your life, no doubt about it, but that didn’t change the fact that all you could think about right now was money. His money, your money, how you could ever let him spend even one euro on you ever again. The thought had your insides churning and that’s why you knew you needed time. Time to process and figure this out before you could come back to him.

“How long?” You snapped out of your thoughts at Maxs voice, so quiet and gentle that you barely caught it at first. When you asked what he meant he let out a breath. “How long do you need? How long til you come back?”

“I don’t know Max. But I’ll come back. I promise.”

~~~~

Ten days. For ten days the only contact between you and Max had been an occasional phone call and a few pictures. He sent you updates on Jimmy and Sassy and you answered with pictures of your parent’s dog, Bongo. Other than that he gave you the space you’d asked for, no matter how much it hurt him not to constantly beg you to come home.

During your time at your parent’s house you’d spent your time just being. Going back to your roots. You hadn’t been brought up traveling the world in private jets or expensive boats and despite loving your life with Max it felt nice to just trudge around your parents backyard in your pajamas, throwing sticks for your dog to fetch. Your father was the most logical person in your life, he’d always been the one you’d turn to when you needed advice and this time it was no different. Your parents both loved Max and they were obviously upset when you came home crying, but after a few days spent talking and reasoning with them you finally saw the situation in a different light. Your dad’s words echoed in your head as you carefully slipped the keys into the door of your apartment, a deep breath leaving your lips when you stepped inside. You were relived to finally be home and you could almost feel yourself buzzing at the thought of seeing Max again. You spoke his name as you walked through the apartment, frowning slightly at the stillness of it. It took you a few minutes before you finally made it to Maxs office, stopping in the doorway when you saw him. He was in his gaming chair, one knee tucked against his chest and chin resting tiredly against it. The computer was turned off, instead his attention was on the toy in his hand as he bounced it slightly for Sassy to play with. You smiled softly at the sight, feeling your chest swell when you heard Max mumble something to the cat.

“Where’s Jimmy?” Despite your words coming out soft and quiet Max flinched, dropping the toy to the ground as he looked up at you. His eyes were wide and lips parted slightly as he took you in, trying to convince himself you were really there.

“You’re home.” He stated and you couldn’t help but let out a breathy laugh, nodding.

“I told you I’d come back, right?” Max just shook his head, rising from the chair. In a few quick strides he reached you, immediately wrapping his arms around your body and pressing you tightly against his chest. Without a thought your arms snaked around his waist, feeling your whole body relax completely for the first time since before all this. You didn’t know exactly what it was that had you suddenly feel your throat closing up, the tears pressing behind your eyes as you turned your face even deeper into his shirt, but you knew they were good tears.

“Fuck.” Maxs voice was shaky, you could tell he was on the verge of crying too, and you squeezed him even tighter. “Fuck I missed you.”

“I missed you too Maxie.” You mumbled against his chest, breathing in his scent. You’d known you’d missed him while at your parents, but somehow you hadn’t expected to be quite this emotional reuniting with him. The two of you held each other for a moment, only separating slightly when Sassy pushed her way between your legs, loud noises leaving her small frame. As you leaned away from Max you chuckled down at the furry creature, softly assuring her that you’d missed her too, before your gaze moved up to your boyfriend. You found him already staring down at you, one hand reluctantly leaving your body to reach up and cup your cheek. When you leaned slightly into his palm you noticed him release a breath, finally a small smile making its way to his face. It disappeared too soon for your liking, a light frown taking its place.

“I’m so sorry.” He began, voice serious.

“Max-“ you sighed, but he shook his head and you pressed your lips together, deciding to let him talk. By the look on his face it seemed like he really needed to get this out.

“I realized a few days ago that I never actually apologized. I wanted to call and tell you straightaway but I didn’t want to disturb, I didn’t want to say it over text either but- baby I’m so sorry.” Max spoke slowly, he needed you to really hear him. “I never should’ve said any of that shit and even though I didn’t mean it like you think I did I should’ve realized how it sounded.” He paused for a second, hand slipping from your face to gently hold yours between your bodies. You nodded encouragingly, gently swiping your thumb across his knuckles as he continued. “For me it has always been sort of obvious that the things I have I’ve gotten because of racing. My dad always said that if I wanted something I had to be the best and I guess that just fucked with my head, fucked with the way I see myself and people around me. I’m used to people wanting something from me and somehow I applied that to you too, despite the fact that I’ve actually never felt like that with you. I fell in love with you because you made everything seem so effortless, like you just needed me and nothing else. You’ve never asked me for anything, even if you could and I’d happily give it to you, and I can’t for my life figure out why I would say what I said. I think it was my own insecurities, my fears, that had me place those thoughts on you and I can’t stress enough how fucking sorry I am for that.” He swallowed hard, bottom lip stuck between his teeth as he waited for you to answer. Your eyes trailed over his face and you contemplated carefully how to respond before eventually speaking up.

“I know you didn’t mean it like- like I thought in the beginning. I realize that now, after some time. I understand your point of view- or maybe I don’t understand it but I accept it. I know you Max, I know the way your mind works and your insecurities. But you also know me and it really hurt me to know that even the thought of me being with you for your money crossed your mind.” His gaze dropped down to your hands at your words, nodding. He was ashamed, you knew he was, and despite knowing he might deserve it you really didn’t want him to. Not anymore. With a soft breath you pulled your hand from his, reaching up to cup both his cheeks. When Max met your gaze again you offered a small smile, thumbs moving over his skin. “We all let stupid thoughts cloud our minds sometimes, that’s human. I’m not holding it against you as long as you promise me you’ll tell me if you ever actually feel like I’m somehow taking advantage of you. Or your money.”

“I promise.” He nodded quickly and you couldn’t help but let out a light laugh. Without another word you reached up on your toes, capturing his lips in a long awaited kiss. Despite the fact that it was supposed to be a short and sweet peck the both of you craved more, having been away from each other for way too long. Max deepened the kiss and it didn’t take long until he hoisted you up in his arms, lips instead attacking your neck and shoulder as he mumbled scattered declarations of love against your skin.

Later that evening the two of you laid curled up in bed, legs tangled together and Maxs head placed securely on your chest. As your fingers combed their way through his hair his drew random shapes against your skin, both of you enjoying the sounds of Jimmy and Sassy’s purring from the other side of the bed.

“I’d love you every time.” Max mumbled suddenly, making you pause for a second before continuing your movement.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean I’d find you no matter what, I’d love you in every timeline and every universe. No matter what any of us were doing I’d find a way to be with you.” His words were almost a bit slurred, the sleepiness thick in his voice, but you heard him loud and clear and it made your heart swell.

“I’d find you too Max. Even if you worked at a gas station.”

Tagging ppl who asked for pt2 <33 @brod16 @spookystitchery @witchsbitchestime @bingussthirdtoe @itsjustkhaos @tylerstacobell @ironmaiden1313 @bitchreader @sp1rl @marvelfangirl04 @kravitzwhore @darleneslane @amberpanda99

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bountydroid · 3 days

Text

Jealousy

Request: Can I please request a Cooper x Fem reader comfort angst romance where the sweet reader is infatuated with Cooper (she has a thing for older men)The sweet reader is always doing unnecessary favors for him, like secretly giving him discounts on rad away and supplies, taking care of dog meat, and getting him information on bounties. Until he brings along Lucy, misunderstanding the whole situation, the reader’s heart breaks thinking the worst and slowly stops trying and acting cold and distant, making Cooper notice that the only tolerable person he has ever known in this god forsaken world is ignoring him. (Feel free to add or change anything just pls feed into my delusions😭 I just want some hardcore romance with our cowboy) Also can u pls add that the reader also has a cute southern accent?

Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x f!reader

Description: As a wandering trader, you've made a lot of strange friends. Among them, Ghouls, but there is one in particular that is your favorite.

Notes: I hope I did this justice for you anon!

The Wasteland was brutal, and even you knew it was a bad idea to trek it alone, but you had a job to do. However, as you found yourself in front of your old friend Roger's home you felt like the Wastelands weren't all that bad.

"My name.. is Roger." You heard him repeating between snarls.

You stopped in your tracks outside the door. "He's turning," You thought to yourself as you rummaged through your pack looking for any vials of Radaway. You were all out. Sighing, you put your hand on your holster before slowly making your way inside to check on your friend.

"Rog?" You ask as you round the corner to find him sitting in the dirt.

"Oh hey," he said relieved. "My savior. Do you have any Radaway?"

"I don't have any, Rog." You replied sadly.

"Oh." He whispered. "You should probably get out of here then. It's not safe for little girls like you to be in the Wastelands alone." He said sadly, leaving out the bit you both knew, you weren't safe with HIM alone.

Before you could respond, you heard quiet footsteps down the corridor. "Who else is here?" You thought to yourself as your hand went back to your holster. Peaking your head around the corner you find none other than Cooper Howard and... a vaultie? You did very little to hide the confusion on your face as you looked between the two.

"Hey, you." You said to Cooper. "What are you doing here?"

"Could ask you the same thing, sweetheart." He responds, pushing the vaultie through the doorway and making his way to Roger.

"Hey Rog," Cooper greets him.

"Hey. Hey." Rogers laughs, relieved to see his friend. "Fancy seeing you here. You out for that bounty, too, huh?"

"Yep," Cooper responds as he knelt in front of his friend.

You all stand there in silence for a bit, listening to Roger snarl and whip his head around.

"Oh, shit," Roger says between wails.

"How you feeling?" Cooper asks quietly, already knowing the answer.

"Oh.. you know," Roger replied. "It's hard out here. Dang smoothies can be so unkind. I see you got a smoothie of your own." He says as he looks over at the vaultie.

You also turn to look at the vaultie, a look of displeasure on your face. "A smoothie of your own." Repeating over and over in your head. You wanted to be his smoothie. You and Cooper never really started a relationship, but you thought you were heading in that direction. You gave him a generous discount on Radaway since you developed a little crush on him, and he would always spend more time than necessary with you whenever you crossed paths. He was always fussing after you and was always telling you how you were too reckless. In his eyes, everything was too dangerous for you. He knew how you felt about him, and you THOUGHT you knew how he felt about you, but this vaultie threw a wrench in everything. "Maybe I was wrong. Maybe he doesn't like me." You thought to yourself while eyeing her up. You were so lost in thought that you could barely hear Roger snarling next to you.

"You're turning," Cooper says reluctantly, his voice pulling you from your thoughts.

"Yeah maybe, maybe." Roger says on the verge of tears, "Maybe. Hey, you don't happen to have any vials, do you? Y/n is all out."

Cooper's eyes met yours as you nodded your head sadly.

"Just one little puff and I'll be back on my feet. You know I'm good for it." Roger pleaded.

"I'm sorry Roger I am all out," Cooper says, looking back toward his friend.

"That's okay. That's okay." Roger mumbles. "Though, um, you and y/n and your smooth-faced friend, you um... you might want to clear out before things get ugly."

You flinch as you hear Roger snarl again, each time he was getting louder and louder. You look down at your feet with tears in your eyes.

"I did okay. 28 years since I first started showing," Roger said looking between you and Cooper, before snarling again. "Oh, hell! Not as long as you though." He pointed proudly at Cooper, "You've outlasted us all. How long since you first started Wastelanding?"

"A long time," Cooper responds while shaking his head.

"That's a lot of vials," Roger said quietly.

"Well I've always been good at making money, Roger." Cooper exhales as he stands up. "Say, you remember how good food used to taste?"

"Yeah, BlamCo Mac and Cheese!" Roger says excitedly.

"Ice Cream and Apple Pie." Cooper countered.

Roger laughed, a real laugh. He was happy. "Apple Pie is not nearly as sweet as young Y/n's southern accent though." He says smiling up at you. "You know, my mom used to -"

Before you knew what happened, Roger's brains were all over the wall. You looked up at Cooper with tears in your eyes. You knew it had to be done. You knew it was mercy, but it still hurt.

"Why did you do that?" The vaultie asked. "He was sick."

"He wasn't gonna get better." You responded dryly.

"You usually don't go all the way out here sweetheart, not on your own. What are you up to?" Cooper asks you as he picks up Roger's body and places it in a position where he easily access what he needs.

You don't respond. Between the jealousy brewing in your stomach at the vaultie next to you and the sadness about Roger, you couldn't find the words you wanted to say.

"Stop. Stop Stop." The vaultie pleaded, "Please, I know it's hard out here but you don't, you don't have, you don't have to resort to... to..."

Before he could respond you quickly made your way out of the building for some fresh air. You could hear their voices inside, but you decided to drown them out by humming to yourself. You didn't need to see him take apart Roger, and you definitely couldn't stand the sound of her voice any longer. You knew you should get walking, you were low on supplies and they would be leaving the building soon. You didn't want to face them again, but it felt like there were bricks in your boots. As exhaustion hit you, you sat down in the sand and closed your eyes, losing track of time.

"Hey," You hear Cooper say as he puts his hand on your shoulder. "You good, sweetheart?"

'Fine." You mumbled out. "You and your smoothie should get going." The venom in your voice was loud and clear, but you didn't care.

"That's what got ya panties in a bunch?" Cooper laughed.

You glared up at him in response. "Don't laugh at me, Cooper."

"I am taking her to SuperDuperMart. Not keepin’ her as a pet.” Cooper smiles as he offers you his hand.

"Oh," You responded quietly, feeling stupid.

"What is SuperDuperMart?" You heard the vaultie ask, but the two of you completely ignored her.

"No one could ever replace you, sweetheart," Cooper says as he cups your face.

You couldn't help the smile that graced your face at his words, and the blush that creeped up your neck.

He smiled when he noticed the way your eyes flickered towards his lips.

"When I get my hands on some Radaway, I'll show you just how much you mean to me." You whispered.

"Lookin' forward to it." He whispered back.

The two of you were so caught up in each other that you didn't even notice the look of pure disgust on the vaultie's face as she watched your interaction. Some people may never understand why you like Cooper so much, but honestly? You couldn't give a damn.

Tag list: @sitkafay

#the ghoul fallout #fallout tv series #fallout #the ghoul x reader #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard

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alexias-putellas · 2 days

Text

are you sure? // barça femení x teen!reader

barça femení x teen!reader

this request came in not long after that game and i still have a lot of feelings about it. here is me working through them.

warning: mentions of a panic attack but that’s all

are you sure?

you were so sure when alexia asked. when jona asked. when ingrid asked. when lucy asked. when marta asked. when mapi asked. even when sweet vicky asked.

you might’ve only been seventeen like her but you were so sure that you wanted to take the last penalty. it wasn’t your first and your track record for pentalties was impressive. so yeah, you were absolutely sure that you wanted to take the last one.

you grabbed the ball from cata and placed it on the floor, walking backwards a few steps to get a good run up. the whistle blew and you only took a few seconds before kicking it as hard as you could and really it felt like everything was happening in slow motion.

the reaction from hannah hampton, the roar of the chelsea fans as she swatted the ball away like it was a measly fly, the noise of the chelsea players as they ran over to their goalkeeper to celebrate making it into a champions league final.

you hadn’t moved, frozen to the spot as what just happened swirled and registered in your head. tears burned in your eyes but you blinked them away. arms wrapped around you and you could faintly hear the murmurs of vicky and esmee but you didn’t know what they were saying. you didn’t look at them. you couldn’t bring yourself to look at the more senior members of the team.

it was alexia and mapi’s first champions league since returning properly from injury and deep down you knew that it was probably the last champions league for some of the others and you’d gone and thrown it away.

time seemed to move very slowly and you must’ve been running on autopilot because the next time you blinked, you were curled up in a seat on an unusually quiet bus. you were acutely aware of ingrid sitting next to you and the fact that mapi was somewhere close by. but you didn’t remember coming off the pitch or getting changed or even getting on the bus.

when the bus came to a stop outside the hotel, you were quick to grab your bag and shoot off it, hanging back a little bit to wait for jana who was supposed to be your roommate for the night.

but your arm was tapped and you turned to see mapi, a small smile on her face. “you are with us tonight, nena.”

you nodded, feeling a little bit relieved. you loved jana but you knew that she’d probably make you talk about what happened whereas mapi and ingrid would give you space to process it.

so you trailed behind the couple as the three of you made your way through the hotel. you immediately sat on the bed that looked untouched, automatically assuming that the two were already sharing the other bed.

ingrid didn’t have the heart to tell you that as per the rules, they hadn’t been sharing a bed but she was certain that bending the rules for you wouldn’t be an issue.

you didn’t get any sleep that night, tossing and turning before ultimately staring at the ceiling. the penalty played over and over in your head like a movie. a never ending movie.

after a few more minutes of growing irritability, you sat up and threw the covers off you. quietly, you creeped over to the window and leaned your forehead against the cool glass, staring into the lightening sky.

the light of your phone reflected but you didn’t move to look at it. why would you? it wasn’t going to be anything good. a tear dropped onto your arm before you even noticed you were crying. you harshly wiped at your eyes. you had no right to cry or be upset. the others did but not you.

it was your fault after all.

your mind wandered. what would’ve happened if someone else had taken the last penalty? what if you’d taken an earlier penalty? what if you didn’t take one at all? should you have taken one at all?

suddenly you weren’t so sure.

ᡣ𐭩

you sobbed softly into bagheera’s fur, the thought of going into training making you sick to your stomach.

as soon as you’d stepped foot back in barcelona, you’d retreated into your room at mapi and ingrid’s place and never came out. you didn’t answer your phone, you didn’t post anything on your social media’s. you didn’t do anything. the only people you’d interacted with being the couple who had opened their home to you but even that was rare.

if you had a choice, you’d have chosen to slowly integrate yourself back with the girls. but you didn’t have a choice. you had to go back to training, being thrown straight into the deep end with people who probably hated you and in your eyes, they had every right to do so.

you could hear mapi and ingrid moving around and chattering quietly and when footsteps got a little too close, you held your breath, swallowing your sob. there was a soft knock at the door then.

“nena?” mapi’s soft voice sounded through the door and you sat up slightly. she wasn’t going to come in, you knew that. “we are leaving in five minutes.”

those simple words had you burying your face further into the cat’s soft fur. you took deep breaths, willing yourself not to cry again. with a sense of hesitation, you let bagheera go and slipped off your bed. once you were sure the spaniard had left, you snuck into the bathroom.

your reflection made you wince. you weren’t going to be able to cover up those bags. and the splotchiness on your face didn’t seem to budge when you splashed yourself with water.

with a heaved sigh, you grabbed your stuff from your room and granted bagheera his freedom, following behind him as he darted straight to mapi.

truthfully neither mapi or ingrid thought you’d actually attend training so they’d already pre-warned jona and alexia of your potential absence.

but then you walked into the living room, training bag on your shoulder and a tired look on your face.

“ready elskling?” ingrid asked softly and you nodded.

the short drive to the training centre left you filled with more dread. and when mapi pulled up, you muttered something about needing to use the bathroom before running faster than you ever had.

your bag fell to the floor as soon as you’d reached your destination. your hands gripped the edge of a sink as you willed yourself to breathe. but nothing seemed to work.

you sunk to your knees, head pressed against the cool ceramic as your breathing worsened.

tears spilled down your cheeks, a feeling of dread growing worse with each passing second, and you wanted—needed to calm down. ingrid or mapi would soon raise the alarm that you still weren’t there and someone would come looking for you.

the thought of being late and potentially making the others late made you feel even worse. and you somehow sobbed between your staggered breaths.

the reasons to hate you kept piling up and you wondered how long it would be until you did something truly unforgivable. well you supposed you already had.

the door opened and again, time seemed to slow down for you. you were extremely aware of the arms wrapped around you, the hand rubbing your back soothingly, and the voice quietly encouraging you to breathe.

and then you were all on the floor, sitting in silence. a terrible, deafening silence. alexia, ingrid, and frido had never seen you look so small and childlike, a harsh reminder for them that that’s exactly what you were. a child. who appeared to have the weight of the world on your shoulders.

“it is okay, nena,” alexia said softly. your jaw clenched a little but you said nothing. “you are young. we all made mistakes when we were young.”

you held back the urge to laugh in her face. whilst that may have been true, you seriously doubted that any of them had single-handedly threw away a chamipions league semi-final.

“we win as a team and we lose as a team,” frido added on. “we are a family.”

“and without you we wouldn’t have even made it to penalties. you got us there elskling.”

you nodded but made no move to speak or even look at them, having kept your eyes trained on your linked hands.

it quickly became very obvious that you were still not in the mood for social interactions but the three held a little hope in their hearts as you scampered behind them to get ready for training.

the session wasn’t too bad. you did what you were supposed to do with minimum fuss and you kept to yourself. maybe giving vicky and esmee a small smile every now and then.

to them, it was progress. to you, it was nothing. merely a gesture of goodwill to show them that they were in your good books. you still didn’t speak though and ingrid’s words circled your mind. she was right, you were the reason barcelona had even made it to penalties but you were also the reason barcelona lost out and you knew which one was being spoken about all the time.

when you returned home with mapi and ingrid, you went straight to your room, placing yourself into the bay window and staring down at the busy street below. soft knocks sounded and the door opened, bagheera’s quiet meow drawing your attention. you glanced over your shoulder to see mapi stood there, two cups of coffee in her hands.

she motioned to the space next to you and you barely nodded, eyes on the soft cat as he jumped onto your lap. the spaniard carefully placed the cup into your hand. you brought it up to your lips, sipping it slowly. “good?”

“yes, thank you.” you whispered.

it silent again, something you’d actually grown quite fond of. mapi’s presence was comforting in a way but you knew she was still mad at you so when she spoke up again, you told her what she wanted to hear.

“you are okay nena, right?” she asked but the concern in her eyes wasn’t noticed by you and you nodded, desperate for her to leave so you could cry in peace. “estas segura?”

“i’m sure.”

#woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso #barça femeni #barcelona femeni #alexia putellas #ona batlle #keira walsh #lucy bronze #mapi leon #ingrid engen #esmee brugts #jana fernandez

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gay-dorito-dust · 1 day

Note

doing grocery shopping with the batboys

Could you write something fun and fluff please?

is one of my favorite activities.

I love what you write so much. My favorites are Dickie bird and Jay bird.

Don’t know whether this is fun or fluff as you’d wanted it (kinda went on a personal rant in Jason’s a little bit but I don’t regret it) but I still hope you enjoy it not the less. Also thank you for enjoying my Jason/ Dick stuff! 🫶🦦🐿️

Dick:

You go in for certain things that you need and come out with way more then you probably should. (And most of it isn’t what you actually needed)

Half of the stuff you get is mainly what Dick thinks Hayley might like and she ends up only liking 50% of it…the ‘daddy’s little girl’ doggy shirt was pushing it tbh.

Dick tends to wander off when your shopping together that when you went to ask him a question, only to notice that he was gone, you sigh and say;

‘Dick?’

A few isles over you heard a faint ‘yes honey?’

He was in the pet section. again.

You’d have to remind him that you were only there for specific things and nothing else, but Dick would always try to persuade you into allowing him to get something was wasn’t on the list at all, by battering his eyelids at you and saying ‘pretty please.’

You naturally can’t say no to you pretty boy who acts like a man child when shopping, especially if you’re the one who’s paying.

The shopping list you made might as well have been thrown in the bin with how often you come home, only to be reminded that you barely got 25% of the stuff on the shopping list thanks to Dick’s impulsiveness.

However Dick would only use this as an excuse to go shopping again later on in the week/month and do it all over again without remorse.

Also Dick is way too polite to tell people blocking the isle to move, he wants to, he really does but all he does is breathe in deeply and plaster on a smile before soldering on.

Jason:

Grocery shopping wasn’t a favourite of Jason’s but if he were to do it, he’d rather do it with you because he got to be a little goofy with it.

And by that I mean him getting a little affectionate and pinching your backside and you snacking his bicep and scolding him for being inappropriate in the frozen food section.

‘I’m not doing anything chipmunk.’ He’d defend himself as you glare him.

‘I’m sure as shit there isn’t a perverted ghost here that pinches people’s backsides for fun. Now pack it in.’ You hissed as you rubbed your ass in hopes of soothing the sharp pain you felt seconds ago.

‘Sorry sweetheart.’ He’d chuckle as he kisses your cheek in apology.

You couldn’t help but smile as you could never truly stay mad at your sweet Jason, not unless he was staining your carpets with blood from a night out on patrol, but that was neither here nor there.

Other than that Jason would take the trolley from your hand and storm the store with a determination to get the fuck out as fast as possible.

His long ass strides tend to leave you behind in some random isle somewhere. So to combat this from being a reoccurring thing, Jason would just grabs your hand and puts on the trolley before putting his own on top; Now you were being dragged instead of getting left behind in somewhere with people blocking the fucking isle.

How sweet of him.

(If you’re one of these ppl, go fuck yourself bc what the fuck is so interesting that you have to block the ENTIRE FUCKING ISLE? MOVE!)

Speaking of people blocking the isle, it’s Jason’s biggest pet peeve because WHY THE FUCK ARE THEY TAKING SO MUCH FUCKING SPACE?! FUCKING MOVE YOU LAZY BASTARDS!

He will fucking glare at anyone who even dares to lean over his trolley to get something and when you tell him about how obvious he was being, he’d only response to this was: ‘they’re privileged with the use of a voice, they should fucking use it sometime.’

You’re basically there to calm him down before he bulldozes some poor bastard by guiding him to a lesser crowed isle and get some junk food for later as a reward, followed by your magical cuddles and kisses.

Jason hates shopping but with you it was made just that little bit enduring, only a little bit…he still wants to fight the young couple who wouldn’t fucking move in that one isle and honestly you don’t blame him as you would gladly join him.

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chilling-seavey · 3 days

Text

Dreamland (ln4) - Part One

↳ A/N Big thank you to @starlightiing for taking the time to talk this out with me & mega thank you to @norrussell for being my un-official beta reader and hyping this new universe up 🤭

↳ [Very Loosely] Inspired By: 'Heat Waves' by Glass Animals

↳ Summary: As a flunking university student in dreary Bristol, Lando is sure there’s another life waiting for him elsewhere. A life that he can only dream of living with the girl with a million dollar career, verified instagram, and a stunning smile that he swears was created for him. But maybe those dreams stray no farther than his phone screen.

↳ Pairings: Fanboy Lando Norris x Famous!Author!Fem!Reader (NO use of y/n), University Student Lando x Internet Friend George x Internet Friend Alex

↳ Word Count: 6.8k

↳ Warnings: 18+, male masturbation, he humps his bed a little (whoops), dirty talk (stemming from his imagination and his inner most desires), Lando's so incredibly down bad for a girl who doesn't know he exists

In the large university classroom, Lando tapped the end of his pencil against the edge of his calculator, his thick textbook open and his notebook page resting on top of it, blank. At the head of the large lecture hall, his professor was walking through the lecture on the overhead projector, showing step by step instructions for their task that day. As an accounting student, Lando might have at least feigned a bit of interest in the lesson on revenues and expenses but his eyes were nearly glazed over, his mind lost in thought, and his page far behind his peers.

His mind only ever drifted to one thing when his interest wasn’t being immediately taken and that was you. You didn’t know it - in fact, you didn’t even know who Lando was - but he spent his daydreams letting his mind wander to various instances with you that he could only pray would be real some day. That day in particular, he was thinking about how sunny and warm it probably was in Monte Carlo for you compared to the late-winter rain that was pelting Bristol in that very same moment. The rain on the windows caused the professor’s voice to nearly be drowned out despite the fact that he spoke loudly to try and speak over it. Lando was too far past bored to bother trying to listen harder.

As his classmates worked diligently around him, Lando slouched back in his chair near the back of the classroom and glanced down at his phone that was lying face up on the table beside his textbook. As if meant to be, the screen lit up with a silent Instagram notification indicating that you had just posted.

His heart did a little leap and he glanced over casually to his professor still lecturing as he slid his phone off the table and held it in his lap to peek. Your birthdate was his passcode - two digit month and two digit date - and he tapped on Instagram from his home screen that was wallpapered with a selfie of yours (a picture he used to tell strangers whom he wouldn’t see again that you were his girlfriend…long distance of course). Your post was at the top of his feed and before his eyes even processed the image, he double tapped to like it. The little white heart appeared in the middle of the post, right over your chest, and then disappeared.

“Mr Norris.”

His head snapped up from his lap before he could graze your post with even a sliver of as much attention as you deserved, only to see his professor staring at him from the front of the lecture hall with a displeased expression and his arms crossed over his chest. A few students turned to look at Lando. He locked his phone and slid it shyly into his pocket.

“Mr Norris, I certainly don’t think your current GPA is permitting you to take the risk of slacking off on your phone in my class, now is it?”

Lando swallowed thickly as everyone was staring at him and a few of the other students chuckled to themselves at the professor’s diss.

“No. Sorry.” Lando answered softly.

“Manners and respect, Mr Norris.”

“No…s-sir.” Lando forced out, physically shifting in his chair at the discomfort it brought him to follow the strange order of his professor to call him sir as a form of respect. Of course, Lando would never outright admit why it made him uncomfortable. He certainly wouldn’t want to face the embarrassment of admitting how he secretly savoured that title for your lips only, how he fantasized of you calling him that and only you. Having to refer to his sixty-something male professor as such left a nasty taste in Lando’s mouth.

Without the distraction of his phone, Lando was stuck spending the rest of the class dooling on his notebook paper to make it seem like he was working. He might have been a twenty-year-old adult but he still found himself pulling the tip of his pencil along the lined paper to form the curve of your silhouette that had been engraved in his mind since you posted that beach picture back in the summer. His bottom lip was captured between his teeth as he distracted his mind from the post he had yet to appreciate by sketching his pencil lightly to form the curve of your breasts. He erased his messy sketch before anyone could peek over his shoulder.

The three hour class was far too excruciating even if he only had to endure half of it wondering about your post he had yet to see. It was driving him crazy in near suspense. The moment the class was dismissed, Lando rushed to put his textbook in his backpack and nearly shoved himself between the crowd of classmates taking their sweet time descending the stairs in the lecture hall towards the exit.

The university hallway was a relief of cool air and Lando hiked his backpack higher on his one shoulder as he stopped just around the corner out of the classroom door and he pulled his phone from his pocket. He ignored his dozens of missed messages and went right back to your profile and opened your new post.

At only the first glance his teeth were sinking into his bottom lip and he slouched his shoulder against the nearby wall with a deep exhale, eyes unblinking as he admired the pixels that made up the image of you on his screen. Additional images from a magazine photoshoot, you were wearing nothing but an oversized white button up shirt, the collar pulled open and unbuttoned near the top to show your collarbones, and your lips were painted in a glossy red. Naturally cut hair fell in a purposefully messy hair sprayed style around your shoulders and the direct stare you held to the camera with your very light makeup dusting your eyes had Lando’s chest clenching. He had to physically hold a hand to his heart for a moment as he swiped through the three similar images you posted, each with a near perfected lustful stare with your lips just slightly parted and your hands hiding your chest from the slightly see-through material of the white shirt.

Quiet among the bustling university hallway, Lando breathed out a soft, “Jesus.”

He turned to rest back against the wall properly and he brought both hands to his phone to bring it a little closer to his face to really stare. He licked his lips habitually and then opened the comments on the post. He liked a few from your just-as-well-known friends and ignored the ones from other fans that would just make him cringe and he started to compose his own comment.

landonorris: holy shit you’re so beautiful 🧡

When he posted his comment he scrolled back to the picture and zoomed in to take in every single part of you that he could before he was opening his messages. Lando didn’t have too many friends in university but he didn’t mind because he had a good few internet friends instead who honestly were so much better than ‘physical’ friends. They understood and accepted Lando’s little love sick crush on you and nothing felt better than that.

alex_albon: MATE DID YOU SEE alex_albon: LANDO!!!!! alex_albon: DUDE SHES HOT alex_albon: COME GET YOUR GIRL alex_albon: LANDO alex_albon: LAN ARE YOU STILL ALIVE???

Lando could hardly hold back his grin right in the middle of the hallway as he quickly responded to his closest friend.

landonorris: MATE IM NOT OKAY landonorris: I had to wait through my entire class until I could look properly omfg landonorris: She’s literally so fucking stunning oh my GODJHFHFJ landonorris: Minemineminemine 🤤 alex_albon: YES I KNOW OMG alex_albon: YOURS alex_albon: GO GET HER landonorris: God I wish she wasn’t so fucking far away UGJGEBHRG this is UNFAIR 😩 alex_albon: Finish your degree and then go have BABIES 🤪 landonorris: HAHAHAH MATE omfg relax!! alex_albon: Hey you said it first, I’m just being a supportive best friend

Lando swiped out of their dms only to return to your post and he couldn’t hide his smitten grin as he admired you. Alex wasn’t wrong because Lando often thought about a future with you; having babies with you, living in Monte Carlo with you, and following you around the world on your book tours. He was adamant that he was going to make that happen one way or another. He was going to have you fall in love with him just as he had with you.

alex_albon: Wow leave me on seen okay landonorris: Sorry sorry sorry I was a little busy staring at a certain someone alex_albon: Don’t drool on your phone mateeee 😉😉

Lando had met Alex online only a year prior through his online blog he kept about you. He had wracked up a good following by posting little journal entries and sketches and a few short concepts here and there and, of course, posting your pictures like it was his day job to run an update account. Alex wasn’t as much of a fan of yours as Lando was but from the moment they first messaged, they hit it off and became close through the distant connections of the internet. With Lando in Bristol and Alex in London, they weren’t too far spread but they had yet to meet and that probably wouldn’t happen for a while since neither had the money nor means to make a trip cross-country. Their daily messages certainly made up for the distance.

Lando had one more unread message in his Instagram dms and he left the thread with Alex to choose a song, slide in his AirPods, and tend to the next waiting friend as he started to walk back towards his dorm.

georgerussell63: Oh wow she always posts when you’re in class huh georgerussell63: Blimey she looks stunning in this post too geeeeez georgerussell63: Ugh mums calling me for supper but I’ll be back georgerussell63: Message me when you’re free!!!

George was the farthest away from Bristol in King's Lynn right on the opposite coast of the country. Just like with Alex, George and Lando met through his blog and became close quickly too. Lando was sure there were no two more supportive friends than Alex and George and their daily reassurances that someday you were going to love him back honestly was the one thing keeping Lando going.

Lando navigated the busy university hallways with ease while he typed his excited reply to his other close internet friend, tuned out from the world by his curated playlist and wandering mind.

landonorris: Mate I KNOW I’m literally not okay pfjfjfkjng landonorris: It's like she KNOWS I’m busy omg but how can I be mad at her landonorris: LOOK at her landonorris: Like plz ruin my life???? 🤤

The rain that came down hard onto the Bristol university campus didn’t phase Lando as he tucked the hood of his sweater up over his head and hurried down the pathways back to the dormitories. He clutched his phone in the front pocket of his hoodie as if the lingering memory of your image would somehow be left behind in the downpour on his walk home. Like hell he was going to let you go that easily.

The dry lobby of the residence building had him sighing in relief from the rain and he pulled off his hood as he fished his key card from his pocket. With a swipe to the interior doors, he was permitted into the elevator lobby and he smacked the call button a few times impatiently as he brought your Instagram back up on his phone. Safe from class and passing students, Lando let his thoughts drift to less of just she’s beautiful and more of I wish she wasn’t covering herself up.

When the elevator dinged and the doors slid open, Lando stepped in without a look up and pressed his floor button out of complete muscle memory, all without taking his eyes off your images. He zoomed in again as he slumped against the back wall of the elevator and his lip was captured by his teeth again as your lightly manicured hands covered your breasts from the camera but the fair material of the white button up shirt had him able to see the slightest colouration of your nipple in the second image. His finger moved the zoomed in picture so he could see more of you and his eyes greedily soaked up the way the shirt hung loose around your thighs and rose up almost to your hips with how you were professionally positioned.

His thoughts were turning dirtier faster and he nearly hurried down the hallway to his room to have some privacy. Lando closed the suite door behind him and glanced into his roommates room only to find it empty before he was dropping his backpack to the floor just inside his own room. He had never been more thankful for his roommate to have later classes and despite the fact he was alone in their shared suite, Lando still closed his bedroom door behind him just in case.

His room wasn’t much different than that of any other twenty-year-old college boy with a bit of mess around the corners - clothes tossed aside and stray papers littering his desk - but on the shelf of his closet he had lined up in pristine condition, your few published novels in date release order. Lando never once called himself a reader and in fact he had always hated English in school, but when he came across a promo video on social media about your recent release, he became a little intrigued. He was more intrigued by you at first and he spent one night scrolling through your verified social media feeds before he ended up adding your debut novel to his Amazon shopping cart in a sleep deprived, curious, heart-eyed rush at 3:00 in the morning.

He would proudly admit that yours were the only books he had voluntarily read since he was a kid.

Finally back in the comfort of his own room, Lando pulled off his rain soaked hoodie and tossed it into his laundry pile in the corner of his closet and flicked on his bedside light. The rain outside caused the sky to turn dark far too quickly for mid-afternoon, but Lando couldn’t be bothered to close his blinds before he was flopping stomach first across his double bed to spend the next however long admiring your complete existence shamelessly.

He literally felt warm all over when he looked at you, his heart always squeezed so tightly in his chest until he could feel each thudding beat that he swore was only ever just for you. You drove him crazy and you didn’t even know it.

Lando blindly kicked off his muddy sneakers from his feet dangling off the end of his bed with his gaze captured all on your image. Having admired your body in the elevator, he took to your face now, making sure to give every pixel its deserved share of attention. Despite it being a magazine shoot, you only wore limited makeup so the focus was all on your red painted lips but your eyes that were lined with thin eyeliner and magnifying mascara had his attention all over you regardless. He swore you were staring at him like you knew what he wanted from you, like you knew what you were doing, and he could only stare right back.

He shifted on his bed with a small hum as the admiration of your beauty was going right to his crotch but he barely paid any mind to anything else as he focused all on your lips. Lando’s mind was whirling with so many thoughts as his gaze lingered on your glossy red lips that were parted just so and looked nothing less than fucking irresistable.

A message popped down from the top of Lando’s screen in the middle of his admiration session.

alex_albon: What r u up to?

Lando tapped it to open their messaging thread and he typed his momentary string of thoughts without second guessing, always able to word vomit into his friends’ dms without fear of being shamed for a single word.

landonorris: I want her to suck my dick alex_albon: DAMN okay I see what you’re up to alex_albon: Just dreaming about your wife haha landonorris: No mate you don’t understand landonorris: I literally want those perfect red lips around my dick landonorris: I fucking crave it landonorris: And I want to kiss her literally all over and worship her body and grab her tits and smack her ass and I want to make her moan my name landonorris: And I want to cum all over her face while she’s looking up at me like in that pic giving me those fucking eyes alex_albon: Oh my God mate 😦 pffhjffjfj you're down bad landonorris: FUCK ME THIS ISNT FAIR alex_albon: I know!!! She’d be fucking stupid to not want you Lan alex_albon: You’re literally made for each other landonorris: PLZ I want her so bad it's not funny landonorris: She’s so fucking pretty landonorris: I want to knock her up mate alex_albon: Only if I can be the godfather landonorris: Maybe we’ll have twins so you and George can share the honour lol alex_albon: Honestly I’m down landonorris: Literally just looking at her gets me so fucking horny it will NOT be hard to make twins first try ngl alex_albon: LMAO 😏 landonorris: Haha okay it’s raining here and I just got back to my dorm so imma shower brb alex_albon: Yeah okay go enjoy that 😏 landonorris: Lol stfu landonorris: 🧡

Maybe his friends kind of knew him too well but Lando didn’t want to let on too much so he played Alex’s teasing off before closing their messages and returning to your post. He screenshotted all three images and then held himself up on his forearm with his phone in hand as his other hand slid down to unbuckle his belt. He shifted onto his side just enough to take his belt off and then pop the buttons on his black jeans before pushing them down his legs and he flailed his ankles a little to get his pants to drop to the floor with his discarded shoes. Now in only his underwear and his t-shirt, Lando rolled back onto his stomach fully with a small sigh.

He could feel himself getting a little hard by only the thoughts rushing through his mind - and by the sight of your new pictures of course - and he kept them going as he turned back to his phone. The screenshots of your post were in his camera roll and he opened them up to crop out the instagram banners and comments so it was only you taking up his screen. He smiled at the sight of you in the dim sultry lighting of the photoshoot studio you were in and the crisp warm light that lit you up like an angel.

The second image was his favourite of your post between the teasing little slip of your breast behind the fair shirt and the way your eyes were a bit wider, more innocent and sultry, and he could nearly see the line of your panties with how the shirt was slightly raised at the bottom. He imagined them to be as red as your lipstick and lacey and tiny…imagining that peeking up the bottom of the oversized shirt you wore would give him a greedy view of your soft hips cradling the red lace that barely covered anything.

Lando was nearly staring at his phone like he was staring right into your eyes right beside him, nothing but adoration spread through his eyes and the blush of growing lust staining his cheeks in pink. He barely noticed how he was grinding down slightly against his bed, his body swirling in slow precise motions, dreaming for the touch of your soft hand.

The very same hands that covered your breasts in the images you posted, resting gently against your chest to keep yourself decent - you were a modest artist after all, thank you. He just knew you’d be so soft, that you’d touch him in all the right places, tease him with the sight of your body meant just for him. He had never been with anyone before which was another thing he would have hated to admit to anyone, but he knew more than ever that he wanted to give it up to you. He wanted you to be his first for everything that he had yet to check off…he wanted you to be the first woman he ever had in his arms and ever had in his bed. He just knew you would treat him right.

That concept was only solidified by the third book of yours that he had read, engrossed in the pages, illuminated by the light beside his bed back at home, as he was privy to the filthiest, hottest, most intricately detailed sex scene he had ever read. Well, the only one he had ever read. Lando didn’t know it was even possible to publish something so risky but the knowledge that you equipped into your writing only proved his concept that you would be the best partner he could ever have.

With a swipe from the top of his screen, he put his phone on do not disturb to prevent any notifications from popping up while he was trying to have a moment alone with you. He cradled your picture on his phone in both hands as he let the lust work for him, shamelessly grinding against his bed without breaking his gaze from your body, your face, your everything. He couldn’t nearly feel the warmth of your skin right next to him and the plush feeling of one of your thighs nudged between his legs. There was nothing he craved more than the friction of your body on his and his imagination thrived at the concept of having you underneath him, just like that in the picture with your light makeup and plush red lips, wearing his shirt.

Lando just wished he could kiss you too, staining his lips with your lipstick and how you would leave a trail down his neck in your wake. He zoomed in on your picture some more and set his phone down on the sheets between his forearms, staring right into your captured eyes as he pulled his body back and forth against his bed and his hands wrapped around the edge of the mattress. He moaned breathily at the friction and rolled his hips into his sheets strongly, taking his bottom lip between his teeth slightly, dreaming it to be you he was grinding against.

The ache between his legs was growing and his cheeks only flushed more as he grew harder at the simple pleasure of the sheets against his clothed cock and the image of you beneath him. With a soft exhale, Lando propped himself up a bit with one hand flat to the mattress so he was on a bit of an angle and he glanced down his body as his hips ground in strong precise curling thrusts against the bed.

He breathed your name into his room as he looked back down at your picture, soaking in your nearly lustful gaze staring right back at him. He moaned lightly as his hips started to move faster and he was nearly humping his bed in overwhelming pleasure, fingers gripping onto the edge of the sheets.

“Fuck, okay,” Lando huffed out as he forced himself to stop quickly, groaning at the sudden halt of that sweet friction. He slid his hands underneath him and pushed himself onto his knees, sitting back on his heels, and took a second to stare down at the bulge in his underwear. It physically ached and he just wanted you to touch it for him. He wanted you to see how hard he could get for you.

The image of you standing at the side of his bed in front of him in only that white button up and nothing else had him quickly pulling off his shirt and tossing it to the floor and then shuffling out of his underwear. Left completely naked, Lando only dreamt of you staring at him, and his eyes gravitated to that picture again just to remind himself of how fucking stunning you were to him. It would be an honour to have you.

“Want you to suck my dick.” he whispered into the air as he faintly traced the head of his dick with his fingers, “Wanna feel that pretty mouth, baby.”

If you created stories, he was going to create stories. The filthiest imaginative little stories of everything he wanted to do to you, for only you to (hopefully) be privy to one day. He leaned over slightly and tugged open the drawer of his nightstand and fished around for the small clear bottle he had hidden in the back. He had no experience but he figured if he were to replicate your mouth as realistically as he could, he would need to make it as wet as possible. It wasn’t the first time he had gotten himself off to the thought of you and the small bottle of lube that he kept hidden away was of no thanks to the spiciest, hottest scenes in your romance novels. He may have been a raging virgin but he was no stranger to touch.

There had never been one time that he jerked off and didn’t think of you. It was always you. He could only imagine you crawling slowly towards him across his bed in only that white shirt and your tiny red panties as he poured a generous glob of lube into his hand before tossing the bottle haphazardly across the bed sheets. Still sitting back on his heels, Lando spread his thighs apart slightly and smeared the lube in his right hand to warm it up a bit before he was staring down at your picture in front of him and he wrapped his hand around his dick.

Lando sunk his teeth into his bottom lip with a small groan and slid his hand up the shaft of his cock slowly, savouring the soaking wet feeling from his palm. He thought of you between his legs, draped on your stomach with his shirt riding up your back so he could see the curve of your ass in those tiny lace panties and spank you as he wanted, all while you could take his dick in your warm, wet mouth. He could imagine it so well that his eyes literally fluttered as he exhaled strongly on the downstroke of his hand, dreaming about the lube being your spit instead. He wanted it so badly he was burning for it.

“Yeah, baby.” he breathed out, “Suck it.”

He moved his hand in steady strokes up and down his dick as if trying to mimic what he could only imagine your mouth would feel like. The lube smeared messily in his palm, between his fingers, and dripped down the length of his cock as he worked himself slowly but he was all too addicted to the disgusting wet squelch that it filled the room with. His breathing was heavy and his light grip he kept up pulled soft moans from his chest.

Your name fell from his lips again in a breathy whimper and he slid his hand up higher to pull little twisting strokes right around the head of his cock, his thighs physically flinching at the sensation. His head fell back with a groan and he moved his hand faster right there.

“Yeah.” he whimpered out, naturally starting to thrust up into his own touch a little, “Yes, yes, yeah, baby, fuck-”

But he slowed it down to make it last, choking out a soft cry as he dragged his hand down in long slow strokes to ease the rising pressure again and he lolled his head to the side as he peered down at your picture again resting up on his bed sheets. His breaths fell heavier and as his impatient desperation grew, he had to move to a better position.

The images in his mind followed the shift as he grabbed his phone with his left hand and could almost vividly picture you climbing on top of him as he draped himself backwards against his pillows. He craved to touch every inch of your skin for real but his imagination did him temporary justice as he pictured you unbuttoning his shirt to drape it open and give him a greedy view of your bare breasts and beautiful body. Lando bit his bottom lip again as he gave himself a few more lingering seconds of soaking up every inch of your picture in his phone before he was making a fist and lowering it down onto the tip of his dick so he could imagine what it would feel like to truly slip inside your cunt.

“Oh, God, baby.” Lando whimpered at the tight squeeze of his lubed up hand, not tearing his eyes away from your image for even a second, “Shit, you feel so good.”

But if he shut his eyes, it almost felt so real; like you were truly there in his dorm room and bouncing on his dick. The image was so vivid in his mind to the point that he could see the bounce of your breasts and the mess of your hair and the smudge of your fair makeup, your tiny lace panties simply pushed to the side. The sound of his hand on himself was easily enough replicated and he sped it up a little more with a lingering groan, his head tossed back against his pillow.

Lando’s breathy praise was spoken to no one, “Good girl. Fuck- good girl, baby, just like that.”

He took one last look at your picture on his phone before he had to drop it to reach out and grab his thigh with a strangled whimper. He knew your face better than anything so resorting to just his imagination wasn’t a difficult task and he did so gladly. Being alone, there wasn’t too much of a need to be quiet but Lando tended to anyway, only letting out the smallest little whimpers and moans between his shallow breaths as the pleasure drew through his veins.

The craving for you was so intense Lando felt almost dizzy and he fabricated you taking his whole cock deep inside you over, and over, and over, faster and faster. He choked out a little moan as his hand sped up and his head tossed back sharply against the pillows as his nails raked up his thigh in overwhelm.

“Fuuuck-”

Lando’s hand flew to his hair and he grabbed a tight handful as his hips started bucking up into his hand slightly, his moans only getting louder and he could nearly hear yours too, he swore. He just wished he could get his hands on you to grab your hips and fuck up into you or to grab your breasts and watched your face fall into pleasure. He dreamt of what your pussy felt like when you would cum around him, definitely knowing that his hand would never compare no matter how hard he tried to attempt to replicate it.

“Oh God.” he squeaked out, his voice tightening in strain as he grew closer. His jaw clenched as he raised his head up to watch his lubed up hand get faster as the tip of his aching cock leaked for orgasm, groaning through his teeth, “Yes, baby, don’t fuckin’ stop.”

Lando’s brain was flooded with your face, your body, every single one of his favourite pictures of you making up this never ending flow of stunning brilliance that he wanted to absolutely take advantage of in the best way. If you were anything like your writing, you knew how to fuck and Lando wanted all of it. Most importantly, he wanted you.

Faint sweat was forming at his hairline as he fucked up into his hand that was feverishly stroking his cock, his chest rising and falling in anticipation as he gripped the back of his hair and spread his legs a little wider. His moans were getting more pathetic, more desperate, more pleading and he couldn’t stop picturing you on top of him.

“Shit, I’m gonna cum,” he squeaked out quickly, “Lemmy cum inside you. Please, let me cum inside you.”

He fell silent for a second, only rasping out a ‘yes’ and your name, and his hand worked him right into orgasm. His mouth fell open and his head dropped back against the pillows as a little dribble of white spurted gently from his tip and fell onto his hand followed by a second. He stroked himself slower, really pulling and twisting to get more out as his hips ground up and a good shot streaked right up his faint abs.

“Yes.” he breathed through his teeth, slowing right down, and his breath froze in his chest for a second as more leaked from his tip and he could feel his cock physically pulsing in his hand. Lando bit down on his bottom lip as he moaned out of his orgasm. “Mm, fuck.”

He took a second to steady his breathing a little - and to imagine you falling onto the bed beside him and swallowing him up in pleasurable blissed out tired kisses - and then he reached over to his night stand to grab a tissue from the box. He wiped off his hand and then grabbed another to clean up the few streaks across his stomach and the tip of his dick before throwing them into the small garbage bin beside his bed. With a little pleased smile and a soft sigh, Lando rolled over to grab his underwear from the ground and pulled them on as he got off his bed.

When he glanced back over his shoulder at the wrinkled sheets, he could only see your picture still on his phone as the true shape of your body laying there watching him get up, your cheeks flushed and hair a mess and shirt left unbuttoned to expose your chest to him. And you’d smile at him so adoringly that it honestly made his heart flutter and he wished he could really see you leaking with his cum right onto his duvet.

In his underwear, Lando slipped out of his room into the silent suite that was still missing his roommate and helped himself to the bathroom sink to wash his hands. He took one last look in the mirror, brushing his hand over his once styled hair, and then returned to his room and closed the door behind him.

Lando smiled at your picture that was still on his phone screen when he returned and he sat back down on his bed and slouched back against the headboard as he closed the photos app and removed do not disturb from settings. Instagram popped up with two notifications and Lando’s guess was correct that it was his two friends waiting for him. Since he hadn’t been able to properly talk to George yet since he was eating, he opened his messages first.

georgerussell63: I’m back! georgerussell63: She just left you a little treat for after class lmao georgerussell63: I’m surprised I didn’t come back to spicy messages from you georgerussell63: Who are you and what have you done with Lando? georgerussell63: Haha

Then, a few minutes later, his friend’s casual banter shifted into the kind of messages Lando dreaded to read.

georgerussell63: Mate, wait did you see? :/ georgerussell63: Wait probably not because I know you have him blocked georgerussell63: Do you want to know? georgerussell63: Idk where you are but I’ll just tell you anyway georgerussell63: It’s HIS shirt that she’s wearing :/ georgerussell63: Hello??

Lando’s eyebrows furrowed for a moment and he shifted in place at the sudden feeling of a sharp blade piercing his chest ached his heart. He rubbed his hand over his chest and then worded a simple response.

landonorris: What the fuck

He swiped out of his conversation with George and opened Alex’s to see similar messages waiting for him.

alex_albon: Oh my God mate alex_albon: Ok warning now, you’re not going to like this alex_albon: She reposted HIS story on hers alex_albon: He was at the photoshoot and it’s his shirt she’s wearing in the post alex_albon: I’m literally so angry for you alex_albon: Lando? alex_albon: Hope you didn’t drown

Lando didn’t know what to say other than a repeat of,

landonorris: What the fuck

It had been a few months since you had publicly announced that you were dating some random influencer guy that Lando had barely heard about. Another thing he’d never admit? That he cried four times that day over it. It was a part of you that he should have been supportive of knowing that if you were happy then he should be happy, but it honestly just made him feel like trash, like some irrelevant stupid fanboy, and completely hopeless in love. In fact, to put it truthfully, Lando loathed the sight of your boyfriend. He loathed the sound of his name. He never would dream to hate another human being but your boyfriend pushed him pretty damn close to that.

Lando just knew you could do so much better.

You could do so much better with him.

georgerussell63: I’m so sorry mate alex_albon: I’m so sorry buddy alex_albon: I will literally fight this man for you

Lando suddenly felt so dirty but not in the way that he had planned as the concept of having been staring at you in his shirt and jerking off to you in his shirt suddenly made him want to throw up. Cheeks pink with anger, Lando did the only thing he could honestly do in that moment: rant to his best friends in their group chat.

landonorris: You’ve got to be fucking kidding me landonorris: Why is he literally everywhere landonorris: Why is he all over her all the fucking time??? landonorris: Does he not have a job??? landonorris: Can I not have one nice thing?? landonorris: These were her best pictures yet and he fucking ruined them landonorris: Why is she wearing his shirt in a photoshoot? landonorris: WHY WAS HE EVEN THERE?? georgerussell63: This is so fucked alex_albon: I’m literally pissed off too alex_albon: I couldn’t even tell you what this man's job is georgerussell63: Don’t worry Lan you’re gonna get to her some day and she’s going to fall all over you 🤍 georgerussell63: You’re literally perfect for each other she just doesn’t know you yet alex_albon: But she will!! georgerussell63: Hell yeah she will alex_albon: He may be someone she’s in love with now but you’re gonna be the one she’s in love with forever georgerussell63: Oof Albono spitting facts 🔥 landonorris: Like what does he have that’s so great landonorris: He’s brunette?? landonorris: Oh wow nice georgerussell63: Is now the time to mention that so are you? landonorris: Whatever mate I’m desperate landonorris: It fucking hurts and I hate that it hurts georgerussell63: It’s gonna make you stronger georgerussell63: Like Kelly Clarkson said lol alex_albon: You’re gonna be so strong it’ll be like WWE level gains up in here 💪🏼💪🏼 georgerussell63: She’s gonna be all over those guns mate georgerussell63: Unbelievably sexy 🥵 landonorris: Omfg guys 😂😂 alex_albon: Ripping through shirts kind of strong georgerussell63: Absolutely demolishing weak boyfriends kind of strong landonorris: Might go to shake his hand like a gentleman and -oops sorry didn’t mean to break your arm mate georgerussell63: PFFFF LMFAO alex_albon: HAHA dkm omggg georgerussell63: 1000% alex_albon: Plus you can race and what kind of girl doesn’t literally swoon over a guy that can race fast cars landonorris: Bro barely landonorris: Talking about not even getting past F4 is not the way to impress a girl georgerussell63: Fuck F4 mate alex_albon: What do they know about talent georgerussell63: Yeah and you’ve got serious skill georgerussell63: Fly to Monaco and drive circles around that woman alex_albon: And bring us too!! georgerussell63: That’s a given

Lando smiled lightly to himself and slid farther down on his bed as his friends eased his conscious like it was their day jobs. His heart beat for you, that was undeniable, and there was a second of any day that went by where he wasn’t thinking about how to get to you.

landonorris: Next book tour idc I’m lining up at 4am to meet her landonorris: I bet she smells so good alex_albon: Siiiimp georgerussell63: Just please don’t say that to her face

PART TWO

Tag list: @brettlorenzi3

♡ None of the original writing on this blog may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author.

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liliavanrougelover · 18 hours

Text

Would the TWST boys wake up to your alarm?

Summary: Would the TWST boys wake up to your alarm and how would they react to it?

Characters: All NRC students (-Ortho)

Warnings: none(?) (please correct me if I'm wrong)

A/N: I'm working on the Riddle SMAU, but it's taking longer than I expected. Enjoy these silly head cannons while you wait.

Riddle Rosehearts:

Yes and he’s grateful for it. His mother made him wake himself up. She didn’t allow him to get an alarm clock and just expected him to wake up, and that’s not exactly an easy thing to do. While he’s happy, he is used to waking up earlier than you. He probably gets up at 5:30- 6 am, I could never. He would either set up an alarm on his phone or ask if you could set one on your phone. If you set one for him on your phone, he would be grateful, but if you didn’t, he would understand. On the mornings where he wants to sleep in, he would turn off his alarm and let yours wake him up.

Trey Clover:

Yes. He would wake up to your alarm, but he doesn’t. Why? Because he has his own alarm. His alarm is set to the same time as yours because he’s not willing to get up at the crack of dawn. If you sleep through your alarm, he’ll wake you up with breakfast in bed. He’ll make sure he knows what you like for breakfast and he’ll make sure to make it perfect for you. He likes making breakfast for you so much that you may find your alarm has been silenced.

Cater Diamond:

Yes and it upsets him. He groans, flops himself on top of you and tells you to turn it off. If you do, he’ll nuzzle into you and fall back asleep. If you don’t he’ll climb over you and turn it off himself. If you want him to wake up, you’ll have to wake him up yourself. He has made a few magicam posts about your alarm. “Their alarm is the only thing I dislike about them.” -The first post Cater made when you first slept over. He tells you to turn the sound down or you’re never sleeping over again. The ideal volume is none. He’s asking you to delete it.

Ace Trappola:

It takes at least 3 alarms to wake him up and if you have that, he’ll be upset. He doesn’t like waking up and when he wakes up from an alarm? He’s not happy. He’ll reach over you and try to turn your alarm off while sleepily complaining. You can’t even understand what he’s saying because his words are all slurred and quiet. Once he’s fully awake, he’ll make complaints that you can understand.

Deuce Spade:

It takes 2 alarms to wake him and he’d be glad if you had that. He’s slept in more than he likes to admit so he’s very glad that your alarms wake him up. He’ll be a bit confused at first and ask you what that noise is. You’ll have to remind him to get out of bed or he’ll just sit there trying not to fall asleep again. He’s happy your alarms wake him up and he lets you know.

Leona Kingscholar:

It takes 5 alarms to wake him up and he hopes to the sevens you don’t have that much. If you do have that many alarms, he’ll be pissed. He’ll straight up tell you to delete it. He’ll make you delete it. If you don’t then he’ll send you back to your dorm. If you’re really adamant about waking up, he’ll get Ruggie to wake you up.

Ruggie Bucchi:

It helps him wake up. He’s used to waking up early to get him and his grandma breakfast so he naturally wakes up early. If your alarm is natural volume (not too loud, not too quiet) he’s glad that it helps him. If it’s loud, it’ll scare him. He grew up in a pretty cut-throat environment and he’s used to something trying to attack him. Please, turn your alarm down for him. If it helps you wake up, he’ll wake you up himself. Just please turn it down or turn it off. His poor heart can’t take it.

Jack Howl:

He wakes up earlier than you do. The first thing he does when he wakes up is go for a jog so he doesn’t hear your alarm. He doesn’t even know you have one. When he gets back after his jog and you’re still asleep, he’ll wake you up and offer to make you breakfast. It’s just bland cereal and milk though so if that’s not what you like, make your own.

Azul Ashengrotto:

He wakes up early. It’s what a good business person does. He’s very tired when he does though. He’s groggy and he’s trying to keep his eyes open. But, you see, he grew up in the Coral Sea. The Coral Sea is known to be a very dangerous place. Jade has said that it’s very cut-throat, so Azul has gotten attacked (probably) more than once. He hears your alarm and is sent into a full blown panic. He’s fully awake now. He shakes you awake and tells you that something’s attacking. You have to turn off your alarm and explain it to him. He eventually gets used to it. Remember to be patient with him when he wakes you up the moment your alarm goes off.

Jade Leech:

Jade has his own alarm. He wakes up really early but is still groggy. He’s thankful to have your alarm wake him up as well. He would wake up from his alarm and just kinda sit up in bed and stare at the wall, and then your alarm goes off and he finally gets out of bed. He’s especially grateful if you wake up from your alarm so he has someone to talk to while getting ready. (And he totally won’t convince you to wake up Floyd for him /s).

Floyd Leech:

Oh no. You need a new phone. The alarm goes off and Floyd lunges at it and crushes your phone. And when you get mad at him, he blames you. He tells you that you should’ve turned it off before it woke him up (Like he didn’t destroy it the second it went off). He’ll buy you a new phone if you can make him feel better after being woken up like that. Maybe turn off your alarm when you sleep over again.

Kalim Al-Asim:

He doesn’t have an alarm. He has people to wake him up so he never needed an alarm. He’ll wake up when your alarm goes off and thinks someone’s calling you. He’ll just nuzzle into your arm and murmur about someone calling you. When you tell him it’s your alarm, he’s confused. He thought everyone got woken up by other people. Whenever he hears your alarm go off, he hurries to turn it off so he can continue cuddling with you.

Jamil Viper:

He has his own alarm, but sometimes it’s best if he doesn’t wake up to it. His alarm goes off super early, like 5 am early. With how much he does, he’ll sometimes sleep through it. The first time you slept over, he slept through his alarm, but woke up to yours and he assumes someone changed the time his alarm goes off. Even though he claims that he hates sleeping through his alarm, sometimes he’ll turn it off before going to bed so he can wake up with you.

Vil Schoenheit:

He also has an alarm that goes off earlier than yours. He’ll be in his bathroom doing early morning skincare when he hears your alarm go off. He waits a few minutes before returning to see if you woke up. If you didn’t, he’ll wake you up and tell you that you should wake up the moment your alarm goes off. If you did, he’ll ask how you slept and tell you to brush your teeth, take a shower, etc. etc. (If your alarm is super loud, he’ll ask about your mental health).

Rook Hunt:

Rook is the lightest sleeper in the school. It’s his hunting instincts. In fact, if you asked him, he’d say he never truly feels like he’s asleep (He says it more theatrically). So, technically, no. Your alarm doesn’t wake him up, because he wasn’t asleep. He’ll tell you how beautiful your alarm sounds. It could be set to a tornado warning sound and he’ll still think it’s beautiful (just like you). If you don’t wake up from your alarm, he’ll continue to lay in bed with you. You don’t move, he won’t move.

Epel Felmier:

Your alarm wakes him up and he’s grumpy. It doesn’t matter what wakes him up, he’ll be grumpy. He needs coffee. He wakes up and just curls himself around you. If you insist on getting up, he insists you bring him coffee. If you make him get up, he’ll groan and complain, but get up anyway.

Idia Shroud:

He has his own alarm. He calls it “Ortho”. He’s used to Ortho coming and waking him up, so when your alarm goes off, and wakes him up, he’s confused. Was that his phone? Is someone calling him? Oh sevens, he hopes not. When he realizes it’s your alarm, he calms down. He had a mini panic attack when he thought someone was calling him. If you didn’t wake up from it, he just pokes you and if that doesn’t wake you up, he just lays back down.

Malleus Draconia:

Malleus doesn’t know what an alarm is. Your alarm goes off and he shoots up in bed ready to attack whatever broke in (At least it woke him up?). You just have to sleepily explain what an alarm is. Every morning he forgets and still thinks something or someone broke in. Give him a bit of time to let it sink in. He’ll get used to it, eventually.

Lilia Vanrouge:

Lilia has his own alarm. Five to be exact. None of them wake him up. So, why would your alarm be any different? Lilia is a heavy sleeper, especially if he spent the night playing video games. The only way to make sure he gets up is to drag him out of bed. He thanks you for getting him up and offers to make you breakfast as a “thank you”.

Silver Vanrouge:

It doesn’t wake him up. His own alarms don’t wake him and neither does yours. I mean, a loud alarm would wake him, but he’d also rush to grab his sword because he thinks someone’s attacking. You’re gonna have to wake him yourself. Just shake him awake and tell him to wake up. He apologizes for making you wake him up, and it’s best to just accept it. You can try and tell him it isn’t his fault, but he’ll keep insisting until you “forgive” him (there's nothing to forgive).

Sebek Zigvolt:

He wakes up the moment it goes off. He's up and ready to fight. He looks at your phone, sees that it’s an alarm and asks what’s happening. Just like with Malleus, you have to explain what an alarm is. He doesn’t approve. What do you mean you can’t wake up on your own accord? He thought that was just Silver. He offers to wake you up in place of your alarm. The offer is not as nice as it sounds. He essentially yells in your ear to wake up. The alarm is better.

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kpopnstarwars · 24 hours

Text

Who's Afraid of Little Old Me?: Feyd-Rautha x Reader

A/N: ty taylor swift i attempted to base this fic on your song but then i divulged as normal

tw: 18+, smut, p in v, inkpie, oral (both recieving), sub feyd by which i mean feyd is DOMMED, spit, degradation + praise, one spank kinda, swearing, lil bit of crying, mention of evil baron activities so sa + pedophilia, tiny mention of cheating but none actually happens, lmk if there's anything else bc lbr there probably is i just forgot it

wc: 3.9k

Feyd-Rautha has gravely underestimated you.

It is true that you are not strong in terms of Harkonnen definitions, but you expected a man destined to father the Kwisatz Haderach to be able to see past that. What was that the Bene Gesserit were saying about superior genetics? You don’t see even a glimpse of that in his frosty gaze when he regards you - he looks at you as if you’re a delicate vase that may shatter in the lightest of breezes. He thinks he needs to fear breaking you.

He misses how you miss nothing.

You are not Bene Gesserit; you are merely one of their pawns, a genetic machination produced from centuries of manipulations and deceptions, but you can read a man better than the majority of their number.

The seething jealousy in the clenching off Glossu Rabban’s fists is like a monster sinking its venom laced fangs into his heart: starkly evident to you - as evident as the barely repressed, parasitic fear of inadequacy that lurks like a second beast within the first. Just the same, the gazes the Baron sends your husband do not escape you. Nor does the caged, wild look that washes over him whenever you leave his uncle’s chambers: the look of a man who inside is still a boy, relief washing over him that he has left unscathed and untouched for another time.

Even more nuanced than that, you see the vulnerability within Feyd-Rautha. He craves to be loved, the way he should have been as a child, when instead he was desired; all this at an age where the most he should have been doing was playing with carved wooden toys at his parent’s feet.

He believes no one can see the last, soft sliver of his heart that he’s fought to preserve, that wants nothing but to have someone to be vulnerable with, just because he’s buried it so deep inside of him that sometimes even he doesn’t think it’s there any more.

But you see it.

You see beneath it too, to a place that he himself is not fully aware of. A place where he hates who he has become - a wild, savage creature, bleeding from wounds that do not seem to close up, slipping in its own blood when no one can see.

It’s from here, from this place, that the urge to preserve you somehow originates. He thinks you are a flower whose petals will easily be crushed in his heavy, calloused hands, and he is wrong; in a strange way it endears you to him, that he believes that he is too rough to hold you. You do not think it is quite love - not yet, at least, it is only the third month of your marriage - but when you see him fighting to not be the beast that he is before you in an effort to spare you, something that is not just pity stirs in your heart.

You can hear him now, pacing, cursing under his breath in the antechambers. Sometimes he sleeps there, on the narrow sofa, and you’ve come to realise it is those nights when he wants you most. Aside from your wedding night, he has made no other attempts to produce an heir, and you find his restraint valiant, but stupid.

He could try as hard as he liked; he would not get anywhere close to breaking you.

Rising from your seat on the small, ornate stool at the vanity, you push open the door to the antechamber and take a step into the room. Feyd pauses his pacing with his back to you, and you can see the tension in his shoulders and the rigid way he holds his body before he turns around to face you. His pupils are dilated, his eyes dark, and you watch him regard you with something too untethered to be restraint.

‘Am I keeping you awake, wife?’

You shake your head. ‘I had not retired yet.’

You know he expects you to explain why you’ve interrupted him, but you remain quiet - your silence is as much of a tool as your words. He doesn’t speak either, but his eyes tell you enough; they do not leave your frame, hungry, torrid, and his fingers twitch as if they ache to slip you out of the simple shift you wear to sleep and touch you everywhere, to explore the curves and dips of your body.

Tilting your head, you smirk. ‘If you wish to give me your heirs, husband, I would advise another method that differs from staring one into me.’

‘You don’t know what I want,’ he growls, but his face tells other tales.

Stepping forward, you reach out to him but he backs away. Still, the sheer thirst in his eyes sears away at you, even as his actions fight against it, his fingers closing on the doorknob. His hands are steady, his shoulders too, but the tightness in his muscles betrays him as always. Usually, you’d let him go now, but tonight you wish to see how far he will let you push him before he pushes back, so you snare his forearm in your fingers, tugging at him as he turns the knob.

He doesn’t look at you. ‘Don’t test me.’

You smile, cloyingly so. ‘Why not?’

Lightly, you trace your fingers down his chest, straightening the fabric of his black shirt while you gaze thoughtfully up at him through your lashes, lips curving upwards at the indecision in his eyes. He fights it, wrestles with the burning need, but in the end, he prevails, transforming it into a streak of anger that colours his voice as he tears himself from your grasp, recoiling as if your touch ignites pain within him - and maybe it is pain, that he wants you so but fears to indulge himself.

‘Get away from me.’

Feyd-Rautha does not give you a second to do so, because he is the one haring down the dimly lit corridor, his jaw tight, nails digging into his palms. Truthfully, you have never seen him move that fast, not even in the arena, and it almost makes you laugh - the great na-Baron fleeing from his wife and his own lecherous thoughts.

Maybe you did not win this round of tug of war, but he has asked something of you - to get away from him. Over the next few weeks, you follow this to the letter, avoiding him like the plague; you do not interrupt his pacing in the antechambers, nor do you haunt the bedroom like you normally do, asking him questions that he cannot answer. Feyd-Rautha is sensitive to change and you know he will seek the reason for it.

There is a barely cloaked intensity in his eyes when he finally corners you, and under it, you detect recognition: he sees that you are not who he thought you were, and he sees that you are not so different from him - always observing, always planning, and so, mind shatteringly hungry.

You were just dropping by the bed chambers to gather some of your clothes. The night before, you’d relocated yourself to one of the guest bedrooms - you could sense Feyd’s resolve cracking, and you knew that this would break it for certain: coming into his chambers to find them empty, wifeless, your side of the bed damningly cold. Jealousy is clear in his eyes as he backs you against the vanity, filling you with a rising sense of triumph.

‘What has caused this change in your behaviour, wife?’

You raise a brow, faking confusion. ‘What change? I would argue it is your behaviour that has changed, Feyd, you who can barely stand to be in a room alone with me.’

He snarls. ‘Who were you with last night?’

‘I thought you wanted me to get away from you,’ you reply, keeping up your pretence a little longer. ‘I slept in the guest quarters. You do not reciprocate any of my advances.’

‘Advances?’ He echoes, incredulous. ‘You taunt me, wife. It’s like you want me to break you.’

Cocking your head, you regard him coolly for a moment, letting some of the sharpness of your unmasked gaze leak through, letting him see the calculation in your eyes - you see the wariness it incites in him as he realises again that you are not who he thinks you are. Wordless, you lean in close to him, bringing your face to his, hovering there.

And then you let your arm drop and make a swipe for the knife at his belt.

Fast as a viper, he catches your wrist in your fingers, but you smile, challenge in your eyes as you bring his second blade to his neck. You’d slipped it out while he was distracted with your other hand, and he blinks at the cold press of it to his skin.

‘That’s the problem, isn’t it?’ You murmur. ‘You’re not scared of me, you’re scared of breaking me. Who’s afraid of little old me, huh? No one is, Feyd.’

‘They should be,’ he whispers, and when you meet his gaze, it sets you alight.

‘Indeed,’ you reply softly, letting your lower lip brush his.

As he kisses you, his hands seizing your face and locking you to him, you hook his knife’s blade in the collar of his shirt and drag it down, slicing the fabric until it flutters to the floor. Pulling away, you take him in - the moonlight planes of his sculpted chest, the broadness of his shoulders, his roiling, keen gaze. This man whets your appetite in the darkest kinds of ways: you cannot wait to ruin him.

Absently, you trace the outline of the tent in his pants with the tip of the knife blade. A breathy noise leaves him, and he freezes as if he can feel the cold kiss of the metal against his skin; you laugh, delighted that he is so mouldable in your hands.

‘Get on your knees,’ you command, seating yourself on the end of the bed.

It’s captivating, his lack of hesitation as he follows your orders. He sits back on his heels, looking up at you, and you can tell that he’s letting you see him like this, you can tell that if he didn’t want you to have him like this, you wouldn’t, but still, you reach out, gently skimming his shoulder with your fingertips.

‘All you have to do is say, and I will stop,’ you say.

He dips his chin. ‘I do not think I’ll have to.’

You smirk, something savage and powerful and thrillingly depraved rearing its head inside you, awakened by the sight of the na-Baron kneeling at your feet. That will be his last coherent sentence tonight.

Pausing, making him wait, you lean down a little, inspecting his features, the ardour in his eyes. He looks at you as if you hold the universe in your hands, as if you hung the stars in his sky, as if you are a goddess, and he wants nothing but to worship you until he is expended.

You spit on him.

It lands on his cheek, and his eyes widen a fraction. A shudder wracks his body, and he simply stares up at you, breathing heavy, before slowly, his lips part, and he sticks out his tongue, his request evident. You grab his jaw, squeezing so that he opens up wider, and spit in his mouth - the low groan that leaves him as he swallows is fucking delectable.

His cock twitches in his pants when you pick up the knife. Tracing the blade over the shell of his ear, over his cheekbone and over his lips, you marvel at the way he holds still, awaiting what you’ll inflict on him next like a good little toy.

When the metal reaches his jaw, you nick the skin, drinking up his sharp intake of breath and the clench of his fists as the blood trickles down the column of his throat; you catch the droplet of crimson on your tongue, licking a careful stripe up his neck, grinning when you catch his lips in a kiss and he trembles at the taste of his own blood. Feyd is greedy, his tongue brushing against yours as he leans up into your touch, the way his mouth works against yours hot, fervent, pleading.

Planting a palm to his sternum, you push him back, chuckling when he strains to follow you, eyes glazed, lips swollen. You spot a streak of red and swipe your thumb over his lower lip, wiping it off before standing.

‘Get up, strip, and get on the bed,’ you bid him, pulling your own shift over your head.

Feyd scrambles to follow your orders, yanking his pants down, and you take your time to admire his muscle sheathed body; strength ripples beneath his skin, a sweet dichotomy to his weeping cock, rock hard and flushed rosy. He halts his movements, as if he’s pinned down by your appraising gaze.

‘For whom do you wait, husband?’

As he turns to get onto the bed, he’s a little too slow and you swat at his ass. A choked sound leaves him, and you laugh at the way his knees almost buckle. Feyd’s ears run red when he lies down on the mattress, and you straddle his thighs, sneering at the way he twists his fingers in the sheets, squirming beneath you.

‘Pathetic.’

You don’t give him time to respond, instead wrapping your fingers around his cock and pumping up and down fast, and he gasps at your rough touch, his back arching and his hands coming up to touch you - you wave them off you, meeting his eyes.

‘No touching,’ you intone, the hint of warning in your voice enough to render him obedient.

This time, you take his cock head in your mouth. He’s so fucking sensitive, reacting as if the sweep of your thumb down the underside of him and the slide of your tongue over him is mind shattering; it doesn’t take you long to get him teetering at the edge of his orgasm, just for you to pull away at the last moment.

His thigh jolts, weak pleas of your name leaving his lips, gripping the sheets so hard you wonder if they’ll rip. Again, you take him in your mouth, deeper, one hand dipping to play with his balls; you revel in the wretched sound that he makes when you hollow your cheeks around him, your teeth grazing up his length. You toy with him until you think he’s moments from breaking, until he’s writhing upon the sheets, face contorted in pleasure loaded with sweet, sweet agony.

‘Please let me come,’ he whimpers, voice cracking, the look in his eyes crazed, pitiful. ‘Please.’

You decide to give it to him, jerking him brutally fast until he comes; it hits him like a tidal wave - his eyes roll back in his skull, his body tensing, rigid and impossibly taut before he goes boneless, a broken cry of your name on his lips as he spills all over his stomach. A single, ecstatic tear slides down his cheek as his orgasm seizes him, snatching him up and shaking him like a ragdoll.

Lingering at his side, you wait until he’s come down from his high before getting up to retrieve a damp cloth from the bathroom, perching on the bed beside him and cleaning up his come, pressing kisses to the surprisingly soft skin of his hips. One wavering hand comes to rest in your hair, and you glance up at him, biting back a smug grin at the dazed look in his eyes.

‘Feeling okay?’

He nods.

‘Words,’ you chide.

‘Y - yes, na-Baroness. Better than okay.’

You raise a brow at that. You did not specify for him to call you anything, so this is all his doing; he fidgets beneath your gaze, and you note that he’s growing hard again, his cock stiffening between his thighs.

‘Can I…’ He begins, but trails off, thinking better of it.

‘No, little na-Baron,’ you reply coyly. ‘Tell me what you desire.’

His eyes scorch you with their yearning. ‘I want to taste you, na-Baroness.’

You smile. ‘As you wish.’

You lean back against the pillows, letting your legs fall open for him. It’s somewhat comical, the way his eyes widen as he sees your slick cunt, and he swallows harshly - you can almost sense his mouth watering. Carefully, reverently, almost, he nudges your knees over his wide shoulders, bringing his face close to your pussy, admiring you. It’s as if he’s testing himself, waiting to see how long it takes for him to break and taste you.

Lurching forward, Feyd groans, low and deep and right against your clit when he laps at your heat, quickly becoming insatiable as his tongue moves masterfully at the apex of your legs, laving over your clit and curving in and out of you. Bolts of pleasure spear through your body, fierce like crackling lightning at the eye of a storm - he is everything to you in this moment. He shatters you, breaking you and mending you anew.

As he brings you closer, your body begins to shake and your legs close around his head; you suffocate him with your thighs, and you can tell he lives for it from the way he fervently grips your ass in his large hands, kneading the flesh and moaning into your pussy.

Something pulls tight within you, deliciously so, and you cry his name in warning, fingers curling around the base of his neck to hold him still as your hips buck, rutting into his face. Dimly, you can see him grinding into the mattress as you fuck yourself on his tongue - the chafe of his nose against your clit makes you shatter, and you fall apart for him with a ragged cry, nails digging into his shoulders.

You’re still coming down from it when Feyd begins to lap at you again, dutifully cleaning you up, and you twitch with the slight overstimulation, hooking a finger under his chin to see his eyes: his gaze is loaded with the heat of a thousand suns, and yet somehow it is also bleary, drunk. A laugh escapes you, and you tug at his hand, encouraging him to lie beside you.

‘Good boy,’ you hum as he nuzzles into your touch. You can feel him achingly hard against your thigh, and you let yourself catch your breath before reaching down and wrapping your fingers around his cock. ‘Want to fuck me now, hm?’

He nods avidly. ‘Yes, na-Baroness.’

All it takes is for you to half spread your legs before he’s climbing eagerly between them, hesitating before looking up at you for permission. You dip your chin, smirking, and then he’s sinking into you, burying himself inside you.

Voice cracking, Feyd chokes out your name, and he shudders, gasping at the velvet vice of your cunt as it clenches, bearing down on him. Sharply, you rock your hips up to meet his, and this time, a soft, keening whine leaves him, and he squeezes his eyes shut, biting down hard on his lower lip.

He can barely keep himself from spilling inside you.

‘You can barely hold it, can’t you, my little na-Baron?’

His words come out jumbled, his speech scrambled, mind ground to a standstill by the all consuming heat of your cunt; he babbles out protests, saying that he can, desperate to prove he can, stammering that he wants to make you feel good.

Cruelly, you buck your hips up against his again, and a pained sound looses from his chest, but he thrusts to meet you, hips lurching forward, his arms almost buckling either side of your head. Panting, he pulls out slowly before slamming back in, unable to stifle the whimper that tears from the back of his throat when you rake your nails down his shoulder blades, claiming him, littering his shoulders and neck with bites.

‘That’s it,’ you sigh as he finds his pace. ‘Just like that, good boy.’

A strangled noise tears itself from him at your praise, and he fucks into you, frantic, almost feral. Eventually, his thrusts begin to turn sloppy, and you kiss him in order to steal his breath and taste his fervid moans of your name on your tongue as he comes deep inside you.

Pressing a palm to his lower back, you pin him there, buried snugly within your pussy as you reach down with your other hand and rub your clit hard - it takes but a moment for you to come, and he writhes at the cataclysmic feel of your walls fluttering around him, overstimulating him, his mouth falling open in a silent cry as he comes again with your cunt milking his cock.

Completely spent, Feyd goes limp, and you rub your hand over his back, smoothing circles on his skin with your lips to his forehead. The post orgasm clarity begins to hit him, and you feel him go rigid - slowly, he pulls out, his seed leaking out now that he’s not filling you, and he attempts to get up, but his legs are too weak and he collapses beside you instead, his chest heaving, his eyes still a little hazy, still fucked out, even as he fights for lucidity.

There’s something on his face that cuts at your heart - a look of expectancy, as if he’s waiting for you to get up and leave now that you’ve had your fill of him. Concerned, you reach out, and he leans away from your touch.

‘Feyd,’ you murmur. ‘It was not too much, was it?’

‘N - no,’ he replies. ‘I just…’

Sitting up slowly, you look him right in the eyes. He stares back, bewildered, but you press a finger to his lips, foregoing your own fumbling words to instead recite the pledge of allegiance of a Harkonnen soldier to their general; his eyes widen - you know you have hit home. You’d exchanged wedding vows, of course, but these have a different meaning: you see it in the respectful way it is uttered, a soldier acknowledging his superior’s presence.

You pledge to him not only your heart, but your sword - your service - too.

‘Wife,’ Feyd bites out. ‘Surely you do not mean - ’

‘I mean it,’ you cut in. ‘Every word.’

Again, you reach for him, and this time he does not flinch away, letting you tuck him close to you, his breath coming out shaky. Gently, you tip up his chin, planting a chaste kiss on his parted lips, and he returns it slowly, wondrously, no teeth or tongue, just the gentle brush of his mouth against yours: the innocence of it is bittersweet - has anyone ever kissed him this tenderly?

Carefully, you withdraw, wanting to see him, but he does not let you meet his eyes, instead hiding his face in your neck, his lips at the hollow of your throat. You grant him the privacy of not being seen when you feel wetness on your skin, his hot tears tracking down and pooling in your collarbone - his hands ball at his sides, and you pry open his fingers and lace yours with his, pressing a kiss to his knuckles. Tightly, you wrap your arms around him, holding him with a hand cupping the back of his head, cradling him to your chest.

Your voice is quiet in the still air, but it carries as if through an arena, a promise arcing through the air like a soaring arrow.

‘You no longer walk this world alone, Feyd-Rautha.’

best believe when i started writing this i did not anticipate the 2x 'good boy's 🧍

dune taglist: @callumsgirl @oh-you-mean-me @insufferablyunbearable

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moonstruckme · 2 days

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I recently found ur page and omfg I spent hours yesterday reading all ur work!!!! What a lil fic of Sirius and reader but like pre relationship where she's in the hospital (u can pick reason) and she refuses to see anyone and just asks for Sirius

Thanks for requesting my love!

cw: hospital, mention of stitches

Sirius Black x fem!reader ♡ 906 words

Sirius feels awkward and stiff as he pulls back the curtain, though for all he knows you’re too hopped up on pain meds to even know it’s him. Really, that’s the only reasonable explanation for the directions the nurse had just delivered: “She said she’ll only see Sirius right now.”

He has no clue why you’d ask for him. He’s probably the least comforting of your roommates, and as soon as he catches sight of you, knees tented in front of your chest and hands clasped around your ankles, his worry for your choice deepens.

Someone’s tried to clean you up, but they’ve done a shit job of it. There’s still blood crusted on your chin, and your face is blotchy, your cheeks smeared with dark gray like you’d wiped across them with your hands only to spread your makeup off to the sides. James had said you’d cried the whole car ride to A&E, but Sirius still wasn’t prepared to see you like this. His chest feels hollow and achy.

“Hey,” you say, voice scratchy. If hearts have strings, you’re playing his like a fiddle.

“Hey, doll.” He goes for a smile as he sits on the edge of your little cot, managing to sound halfway normal. “Come here often?”

You start to grin, then stop like it hurts. Sirius stops, too.

“Yeah, you know,” you say, “now and then.”

“Don’t see why.” He makes a show of looking about him, at the papery blue curtain and beige-ish linoleum floors. “Place is sorta depressing.”

You roll your eyes, and Sirius’ heart lightens to see you in a better humor. “Yeah, I think I’ve judged my hangout poorly. I’m dying to get out of here.”

He’ll bet. You’ve been here hours longer than him. James had been the only one home with you when you’d tripped on the stairs and bitten through your lip, and Sirius and Remus had only found out when they’d gotten home and seen the note James left, his already scribbly handwriting worsened by haste and panic. By the time they’d arrived they’d missed most of the action (Sirius was secretly thankful for that) and James had filled them in before the nurse had come out to inform them that you’d gotten three stitches in your lip and summoned Sirius back.

“I can understand that.” He gives you his best approximation of James’ easygoing grin. “You ready to go home then, gorgeous?”

The shift is slight, but Sirius sees your bravado fade, a shyness entering your expression. “That’s actually why I wanted to see you,” you say.

“Yeah?” He doesn’t bother to hide his curiosity. “Why’s that?”

“Because I know you’ll be honest with me.”

He feels his eyebrows go up. “About what, doll?”

You shrink a bit, knees drawing closer to your chest. Your voice is small when you ask, “Is it awful? I mean, do I look awful?”

Ah. Sirius can see why you’d want him for this, but you’re wrong in your assumption. He’d absolutely lie to you if he needed to, just like Remus or James would in his place. But you’ve asked for him, so Sirius tries to do right by you.

“You could never look awful, dollface. Be sensible.” He squints his eyes teasingly, reaching for your ankle and giving it a reprimanding little shake. “It’s just a couple of stitches, you haven’t been warped unrecognizable.”

You frown, and it’s even more upsetting than usual. Your eyes look heart-breakingly insecure. “Are you sure?” you ask softly.

“Yeah, I’m fucking sure.” Sirius scoffs like you’re unbelievable. “You said it yourself, babe, I wouldn’t lie to you.” He definitely would, but there’ll never be an occasion for that. He can’t imagine you genuinely looking bad. “I can clean you up a bit, though, if you’d like.”

You blink. “Um, yeah. If you think it would help.”

“Brilliant. Sit tight.” Sirius gets up and starts going through drawers, sifting through medical supplies for something he can use.

“Fairly sure you’re not supposed to do that.” You sound like you’re trying not to smile.

“Fairly certain my taxes pay for this place, and they’ve left my best-looking roommate with a dirty face.” He finds a box of mini-wipes, turning back to you. “Don’t tell James I’ve said that.”

“Oh, I’m definitely tattling on you,” you tease, and Sirius is caught between feeling triumphant and worried that you look very near to grinning. He has no clue how easy it is to tear your stitches.

“What, you want us to match? That’s cruel, sweetheart.”

You roll your eyes. “He won’t punch you.”

Sirius huffs a laugh, holding you still with a hand on your jaw as he wipes gently at your chin. “You haven’t known him as long as I have.”

Your brows flick up as you meet his eyes, disbelieving. “Our James? You really think our James would hit you for saying he’s not the best looking roommate?”

“Well, not if you’re in front of me,” he muses. He throws out the first wipe, ripping open another. “He already feels bad for you, so maybe that can work in my favor. If you are going to tell him, lean on me as we walk out, okay, doll? Give me a fighting chance.”

The corner of your lips twist as you close your eyes and Sirius wipes sideways across your cheek. “Yeah, fair enough. I’ll do my best for you.”

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canmom · 2 days

Text

So a little over a month ago I was reached out to by @peterkats, a gay refugee currently living in a camp with a small group of other gay and trans refugees.

Peter has, to put it mildly, had a fucking time of it. In his home country, Uganda, his partner was murdered for being trans. He stayed for some time in Kakuma refugee camp in Kenya with a group of gay and trans people (pictured above), but violence from police forced them to move, and they're currently in a refugee camp run by the UNHCR. (I've been asked not to explicitly name the country but you can probably figure it out.)

Unfortunately this has not in any way been a reprieve. They've managed to flee right into an impending famine, and if that's not enough, they're still facing violence from police and other refugees, and general indifference from the UNHCR medical staff - who are also facing supply shortages. But it's not completely hopeless. When Peter contacted me, he needed money for food - I sent him some via an intermediary and he was able to get quite a bit (the exchange rate seems to be favourable). With help, things can be quite different.

We've stayed in touch since then, talking about our respective lives, the lgbtq situation in different countries, even videogames and music. He's a really sweet guy, despite it all still trying to find a place he can live free. For real, I would not survive any of this shit.

Recently a couple of people in Peter's group have caught malaria. They are currently sleeping on bare mats without mosquito nets. There seems to be some confusion about the exchange rates but as far as I have been able to gather, about €150 (~20,000ssp) gets a mattress and €10(~1000ssp) a malaria net. The UNHCR have not been able to provide any medication except paracetamol, and it's raining which promotes mosquito activity, so this is kind of an emergency.

I would very much prefer if the new friend I've made doesn't die of starvation or malaria. Unfortunately, I do not have the money to support Peter and his group alone. I've sent him money for one mattress (via PayPal for expediency, it won't show up on GFM), and I would be immensely grateful if you would be able to contribute a bit to getting them another (which would be just about enough to keep six people safe from mosquitoes if sleeping three to a mattress).

Beyond that, these guys are prohibited from working so they would definitely benefit from food money. And if anyone has an idea for a long term plan to get them somewhere safer where they're less likely to get bashed, I am sure Peter would appreciate hearing about it. We talked a bit about the UK asylum process but getting everyone here would be very difficult (passports, flights etc.).

But still like, I can only do so much on my own, and I want to give these guys a fighting chance. So if you could pass this around and donate if you can spare a bit? I'd be insanely grateful.

#signal boost #lgbt #gay #refugee support

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puck-luck · 19 hours

Note

Forever yearning for a jealous, dominant Luke Hughes. I mean spitting in your mouth, edging, mirror sex, etc. I need the filthy, down bad luke.

Scenario: maybe you’re becoming close with one of the other players (completely innocent-just forming a friendship) but Luke doesn’t see it as that way…

👉🏻👈🏻

warnings (in no particular order): spit(!!), jealousy, dom!luke, edging, mirror sex, one (1!) slap to the face just for the enjoyment of my friend jo, spanking, drinking (technically underage hiii luke turn 21 already stop being lame), beating yourself up, pet names and nicknames as FUCK (always bro do y’all even know me), road head, face fucking, unprotected p in v, dare i say breeding kink, implied subspace, allusion to size kink (probably established size kink to be fair), I THINK THAT’S IT BUT I’M NOT SURE! pairing: luke hughes x fem!reader summary: the one when luke gets jealous at the bar and doles out a bit of a punishment (code: luke is insecure about his performance on the ice, so when his gf starts talking with another teammate who is her friend, he gets jealous and feels like he has to prove himself by making her feel good, but he’s still a dom bc HOTTTT) wc: 6416

The Devils’ last game of the season was at home this year. There was no chance that they would make the playoffs and Jack was out in Colorado for his shoulder surgery, plus Luke’s parents weren’t able to make it from Michigan for his final rookie game. He was depending on you to be there, so there you were. You were cheering, you were yelling at the officials when they missed a call, you were laughing at Luke when he took a trademarked Hughes spill on the ice with barely anyone around him. Yeah, you were disappointed at the end of the game when the Islanders won (and it wasn’t even close), but it was just one game. It wasn’t the end of the world. It was a disappointment, but it wasn’t life-changing.

Luke, however, was much more upset with their performance when you met up with him after the game. He drove the two of you to the bar where the team was meeting for one last celebration before the off-season and he tried, he really did, to keep his complaints inside. He was stewing, just letting it well up inside of him and fester in the silence between you, until it spilled over.

“It should have been a better game,” Luke finally said, the harsh edge in his tone rubbing you in all the wrong ways. “We could’ve done more. If I had just–”

“Lu, baby,” you interrupted, voice soft. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“I was out there the longest, other than Jake,” Luke argued. “They depend on me and I let them down.”

“You were only on the ice for one goal, Lu. You couldn’t have done anything about at least the other three.”

Your statement was not something he wanted to hear. Your boyfriend, sweet as he was, always saw the best in everyone else and the worst in himself. Where he could have been blaming Brendan for the loss, since Brendan was on the ice for three of the four goals, he was instead blaming himself. He was never one to hold a grudge against his teammates or his friends or his family, which was part of the reason why you were so in love with him.

He grunted instead of giving you a real response, but you knew it was coming from a place of knowing you’re right but still feeling hurt.

“I love you,” you told him, just a reminder that his performance would never affect your affection towards him.

“I love you too,” Luke replied, and you two fell back into silence. It was less tense this time, but his shoulders were still tense and he was frowning, almost pouting. He was so pretty, even now, but you hated how this expression marred his face.

When you pulled up to the bar, you were met by Luke’s teammates. While some of the men had gone home after the game, it was mostly the ones who had families. You knew their wives and girlfriends would have encouraged them to go out with the team rather than stay home with the kids, but you understood. If Luke had wanted to go straight home after the game, you would’ve gone with him and cuddled him until you fell asleep.

“Do you want to get out and get me a drink, baby, while I find parking?” Luke asked, always so considerate.

“Yeah,” you agreed easily, leaning over the center console to peck his lips before you left the car.

Waiting outside the entrance of the bar, Nico and John smiled as you got out of the car and walked over to them. You hugged each of them before entering the bar, Nico walking in ahead of you and John following you with a hand on your back.

It didn’t mean anything to you or to John, but when Luke watched John guide you into the bar before he drove away to search for a parking spot, something sharp and green poked at his heart.

Luke finally made his way into the bar about ten minutes after you walked in, and your face had lit up when you saw him like it had been much longer. He didn’t see you at first, so you had the chance to watch him scan the room. His brow was furrowed as he scanned each person’s features. You knew that he was trying to spot you without looking for the other boys at first, but it was proving difficult with how crowded the room had become.

Timo appeared at his side and patted Luke’s shoulder in greeting. Luke talked to him for a minute before Timo pointed your way. Luke’s face split with a smile when he saw you and he gave Timo a pat before beelining towards you.

You looped your arms around Luke’s neck when he joined you, leaning up on your tiptoes to kiss him.

“Gross,” Nico complained from next to you. “It’s only been a few minutes since you’ve seen each other.”

“You’re not in love,” Luke replied, snarky and sarcastic like he tended to be when it wasn’t just the two of you. He then turned to you. “Where’s my drink?”

“What a priority,” you teased, rolling your eyes at him. He pinched your side. “I sent Johnny to go get it.”

Luke’s expression changed for a split second before he schooled his features. You wouldn’t have noticed it if you weren’t so in tune with his emotions, experience that comes only after years of dating a person.

You let it go, knowing that it can’t be too important, or Luke would have said something. He knew you were friends with guys on the team. After being around them for almost a year, having moved out here with Luke at the start of his rookie year, it was bound to happen. Plus, Luke wasn’t the jealous type. He knew that you loved him and you’d love him forever, saying yes in a second if he chose to propose.

But to him, there was something about the way you said “Johnny” instead of John. It was that and John’s hand on your back as he guided you into the bar, on top of an already hard night, that had Luke questioning himself.

“I asked him to get you a rum and coke,” you said, tilting your head up to poke Luke’s nose with your own. “Is that okay?”

“It sounds good, thank you,” Luke replied.

You resume conversation with Nico, turning to face him but staying tucked into Luke’s side. He had a hand on your hip and the other accepted the drink that John handed Luke when he returned. He nursed it quietly for a while, engaging in conversation here and there, but mostly just enjoying his time with his friends.

The game was the last time that his whole team would be together like that, but this night out was the last time that his team, his friends, would be together in the way that mattered. Even if no one was traded, if no one changed in the slightest (except Jack, coming back from injury), things still wouldn’t be quite the same. It wouldn’t be his second year, his presence wouldn’t be new or exciting. He would have to try harder, do better, and be consistent to show that he wasn’t just an example of beginner’s luck.

He clutched you a little tighter to his side at that thought. He was comforted by the way that you melted into him, moving to lean back against his chest. Your hand covered his and the other polished off your drink. He took the empty cup from you and kissed your cheek before pulling away to toss your cup, and his, in the trash can behind him.

When he returned, he was taken aback by the sight before him.

You had stepped forward and were carding your fingers through John’s curls and Luke saw red before he saw the thoughtful look on your face. John had just said to you and Nico that he thought his hair was getting too long, too unruly. You didn’t agree– it was a good length, the curls were just settling into their shapes.

“I don’t think you should cut it, John,” you were saying before Luke grabbed your other wrist and yanked you towards him. “Luke!” You exclaimed, startled by the movement.

“Time to go,” Luke announced, loud enough that the other boys could hear. He clutched your wrist, not your hand, your wrist, and pulled you along as he stomped toward the exit.

“Luke, what is going on?” You asked, voice resounding in your ears like it’s much louder than it actually is.

Luke kept walking like he didn’t even hear you, pushing through the door and leading you down the block to the car. He opened your door for you and helped you in, but he slammed it shut once you were buckled into your seat. He rounded the car and opened his own door, glaring at you in a passing glance before settling into the driver’s seat.

“Lu,” you implored, pressing your hands against the top of your thighs.

When he didn’t reply, you tried again.

“Babe, talk to me–”

“I don’t want you to speak unless you’re spoken to,” Luke said. He refused to look at you. “You think you can touch John’s hair the way you touch mine? You’ll let him guide you into the bar the way I would? I’m not enough for you, huh, baby?”

You blinked, suddenly shifting up to sit a little straighter. Luke, your sweet angel Luke, the baby of his family who would never hurt a fly, who avoided hockey fights at every cost, had flipped his switch.

“Answer me. I asked you a question.”

“No, sir,” you said. Your eyes flickered down to where Luke’s knuckles were white with how hard he was gripping the steering wheel. You inhaled sharply as you made eye contact with the veins decorating the back of his hand.

“No?” Luke repeated, mocking. “I’m not enough for you?”

“No! Lu, you’re more than enough, you know you’re the only one I need.” Your words came out scrambled and you tripped over them.

Luke clicked his tongue, disapproval written all over his face. “Can’t even speak, can you?” He scoffed, reached down with one hand, and popped the button on his jeans. “Let’s put your mouth to a better use until you can find your words.”

“You’re driving,” you pointed out, casting a worried look at the road ahead of you.

“It wasn’t a question,” Luke threw you a glance. He looked back at the road, then back to you, this time holding your gaze. He cocked his head to the side, eyes softening for a moment. “Was it?”

“No,” you breathed out.

“Good girl.” A smile spread over Luke’s face and he turned back to the road. “Get to it.”

You clenched your thighs together and unbuckled your seatbelt so you could twist towards Luke and lean over the center console. You reached out to unzip his pants, but he knocked your hands away.

“I didn’t say use your hand. I said,” he paused, grabbing your hair and tilting your head up so your eyes met his, “Use your mouth.”

The noise that escaped you was involuntary. You moved forward that extra inch and carefully took Luke’s zipper in your mouth, dragging it down. His boxers were revealed by the action, but that was the extent of it.

“Come on,” Luke encouraged, growing impatient. What you couldn’t see from your position was the smug tilt of his mouth, knowing there was no way to get his cock out of his pants with just your mouth. “Take it out.”

“Can’t,” you whimpered.

“Oh, you can’t?” Luke mocked, feigning sympathy. “Poor baby needs my help, yeah?”

You nodded and hummed an agreement.

Luke’s grip tightened on your hair and he gave it a sharp tug. “Use your manners.”

“Please, Lu, help me,” you conceded.

“Help you what?”

“Help me take your cock out so I can suck you, please, sir.” Your voice was close to breaking, you were itching to get your mouth on him and make him feel good.

Luke obliged, revealing himself to you. You opened your mouth and he pumped himself twice just to tease you before slapping the lip of his cock on the flat of your tongue. He fed you his cock, returning his hand to your hair when you had taken as much of his length in your mouth as you could. He gathered your hair into a messy ponytail with his one hand, the other still on the wheel, and began to guide your head up and down.

You gagged when he guided you to his base, nose touching the fabric of his boxers around his cock, but the groan he let out made the discomfort worth it. It was low and desperate, just pure relief.

“Wanna fuck your mouth,” Luke breathed out, pulling you up so just the tip of his cock remained in your mouth.

You hollowed your cheeks and sucked, swiping your tongue over his slit and relishing in the taste of his precum in your mouth.

He moaned aloud, the sound seeming to echo throughout the car. You could feel your heartbeat in your fingertips. You let out a sigh, suddenly overwhelmed with contentment for your situation. Luke was perfect. He was the perfect boyfriend, whether he was his soft and cuddly self or this dominant version of him that wasn’t afraid to tell you what to do, to communicate what he wanted.

“Would if I weren’t driving, too,” Luke mumbled, mostly to himself. “Fuck, baby, make me come. You know how.”

Luke returned both hands to the steering wheel and allowed you to move your head freely, to go at your own pace. You bobbed your head with enthusiasm, spit dripping down his shaft and soaking the fabric around him. You gagged at times, but the tight squeeze of your throat around him just added to Luke’s pleasure. He wasn’t shy about telling you how good you felt, either, making you more determined to make him come.

“Fuck, pull off,” Luke said, his voice a little shaky.

You couldn’t. You couldn’t, not when he was so close. The idea of having his come in your mouth, on your tongue, the manifestation of how you made him feel, was too alluring.

“Y/N, pull off,” Luke commanded, reaching down to yank you off of him by your hair. He clenched his jaw as he held you just far enough off his cock that you thought, with just one bump in the road, you could capture it again. He steered out of the lane and parked on the side of the road. “You don’t want to listen? You’re so cockdumb that you can’t follow my orders?”

All you could do was look at him, eyes wide.

He spoke through his teeth, never once blinking or breaking eye contact. “Since you want me inside you so bad, I’m gonna fuck your mouth until I come. You’re gonna take it. Even if you gag, even if you cry, I’m not going to stop until I come. Then, you’re going to sit back and buckle yourself in and I’m going to finish driving us home. You will not swallow. You’re going to hold my come in your mouth until I say so. Do you understand?”

Your jaw dropped at the words, the tips of your ears growing hot. “Yes, sir.” It’s nearly inaudible and you can feel your panties growing damper with just the thought of it– minute after minute ticking by, Luke’s come coating your tongue, not being able to speak or swallow. You’re completely under Luke’s control.

He leaned back in the seat and motioned toward his cock.

You allowed him to guide you onto his length again, getting comfortable with its size. You hollowed your cheeks and looked up at him, pausing your movements and staying statue-still.

A smirk took over Luke’s face. “That’s my girl.”

He took your head with both hands, keeping your hair out of your face and keeping you from moving an inch, and began to thrust into your mouth. It was sharp and hard and you tried to create a vacuum-type suction around his cock, as tight as you knew he liked it, but it was hard with the head of his dick hitting the back of your throat with every buck of his hips. You ended up gagging, and crying, and drooling all over his cock, just like Luke had said, and he fulfilled his promise that he wouldn’t stop.

“Look at you, making such a mess of yourself,” Luke scoffed. “Such a mess all over my cock, just to make me feel good. You’d let me do whatever I wanted, wouldn’t you, baby? You’d never let anyone else take you like this, just me, yeah? No one else gets to see you just leaking all over my cock because you’re mine.”

Your eyes rolled into the back of your head at that and the moan you released around Luke’s length caused his hips to stutter, made him unable to hold back his orgasm any longer. He came in stripes all over your tongue, some of it leaking down the back of your throat before you could stop it. He pulled you off of him and crashed his lips against yours, a close-mouthed kiss because you wouldn’t dare disobey, couldn’t handle the idea of disappointing Luke.

“My good girl,” Luke cooed when he pulled away.

You offered him a lazy smile, head foggy and bones mushy. You were sated, an elevated version of just happy, and so, so comfortable. You loved him. He was everything.

“I’m not done with you yet, am I?” Luke asked softly, thumbing over your bottom lip.

You shook your head.

“Open,” Luke said. “I want to see my come on your tongue.”

You hesitantly opened your mouth, pushing your tongue out so he could see the milky white substance coating the muscle.

Luke captured your cheeks with one hand and leaned in with the other holding your head in place. You stared at his eyes, which were watching your tongue as a line of his saliva mixed with the come in your mouth. When his eyes rose to meet yours, it was the embers of desire that made your head roll back and the instinct, the pure instinct of having something in your mouth, that caused you to swallow.

Your head snapped forward, eyes wide and not doe-eyed, not purposefully innocent to make Luke’s heart jump. No, your eyes were wide with worry because you disobeyed him. It wasn’t something you did to spite him or push him further over the line.

“I’m sorry.” The words leaked from your mouth and you scrambled to take Luke’s hand in yours, clutching his right with both of yours. “Luke, it was an accident, you know I’d never–”

His mouth was open in shock, briefly, before it snapped shut and his eyes twinkled with something downright predatory. His hand was limp in yours (though not pulling away) and he was still.

“But you did,” He interrupted. “You did.”

“I didn’t mean to.” You were trying to reason with him, but you knew the damage was done. Whatever he had planned for you when you got back to the house, it was going to be ten times worse now.

Luke just shook his head and removed his hand from your grasp, pulling back onto the highway and resuming the drive home. You weren’t far, the area around you looking more and more familiar with each passing second. The minutes stretched for what seemed like hours with Luke’s silence. You held your own hand nervously, pinching at the skin of you knuckles and avoiding Luke’s face. You couldn’t handle seeing the disappointment etched into his features.

Luke pulled into the garage of the apartment complex after just about five minutes. Suddenly, it hits you– you have the apartment all to yourselves tonight. There’s nothing to stop Luke, or you for that matter, from being as loud or as public as he wants. There’s a window in the living room, one that Luke mentioned after your last session. A spark traveled up your spine when you realize that tonight might be the night that he fucks you out in the open, for anyone to see.

When he shifted the car into park, Luke turned to you expectantly.

You apologized again, softly, once he looked at you.

His features softened then, seeing your apprehension. He reached out and took your hand. “Are you okay?”

“I feel bad that I didn’t listen,” you replied. Your eyes fell on your shoelaces, which were an off-white color after plenty of use. You made a note to yourself that maybe you should wash them soon. You wondered if they’d return to their original color. The shoes were much more interesting than looking up at Luke and meeting his eyes.

He tilted your head upward with a guided hand anyway. “You’re still my good girl,” he reassured. “Are you okay to keep going? Or do you want me to stop? I won’t be mad. Whatever you want, we can do it. We can leave this in the car and I can take care of you, baby.”

You could cry at his words, how great he is about your slip-up. You did want him to be sweet, but you knew that he needed this. He needed to work through whatever was going on in his mind and if he could just be in control of this, just for a little while longer, it would be so much easier for him later.

“I want to keep going,” you admitted.

“You know your word?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Tell me?”

“Flower.”

“That’s right, baby.” Luke pecked your lips, but when he pulled back he was back to business. “Now, are you ready to listen to me?”

You nodded, eyes trained on his. Neither of you blinked, a silent contest that he ended up losing (something that would normally cause you to gloat, but now doesn’t seem like the right time).

“When you get to the apartment, you’re going to strip. You’re going to sit on the edge of our bed. You’re going to touch yourself while you wait for me and I want you to watch yourself in the mirror. If you come, and you know I’ll know if you do, you’re not going to come at all tonight. I want you to bring yourself right to the edge and stay there. Can you do that for me?” He spoke slowly and clearly, his voice gravely and dominant. He didn’t stumble over his words or pause and “um” like he did in interviews. No, this was when Luke was at his surest. This was when he knew exactly what to do, exactly what to say.

“I can do that,” you agreed, unbuckling your seatbelt and gathering your things.

“I’m going to give you a five minute head start.”

You nodded at Luke, opened your door, and left the vehicle. When you got up to the apartment, you didn’t bother to hang your coat or purse on the hooks Luke put up just for you. You didn’t put your shoes neatly like the door like you normally did. Instead, you dropped your belongings and kicked the shoes off one by one on your walk to the bedroom. You shed your clothing in a similar manner, leaving a trail behind for Luke to chuckle at when he walked in the door.

Fully naked, you stared at yourself in the mirror that faced your bed. You read once that it was bad luck to have a mirror face a bed, that your reflection could like… capture your soul, or something, but you kept the mirror there anyway because if there was anything Luke enjoyed, it was seeing himself fuck you in the mirror. He liked to watch you ride him in reverse cowgirl, so he could see your ass jiggle as you bounced on his cock with his own eyes and your whole body in the reflection.

Sometimes, his hands would drift up and he would hold your tits, watching how he could envelop them in his palms. You tilt your head to the side, watching your own hands slide up your body to do the same.

For everything you could imagine Luke doing, there your hands were trying to satisfy yourself. If you closed your eyes, you could convince yourself that it was him instead.

His cock would disappear into your pussy, thrusting in and out and causing you to whine. His fingers would circle your clit or pinch your nipples. He would palm your ass, or reach up to wrap his hand around your neck. He would reach just that spot…

You didn’t ever hear it when Luke opened the door and joined you in the room. He thought you knew he was coming, with the way you were whining his name and begging for him. Your eyes snapped open as he closed the door behind him and you quickly pulled your fingers out from inside of you.

Luke walked over to you and sank onto his knees between your legs. “Gimme a taste, love.”

You offered him your fingers, which he took into his mouth. He sucked on them softly for far too short a time, in your opinion, with the way his cheekbones became more prominent as he cleaned your fingers of your wetness.

“Tastes good,” he told you with a smile when he was finished.

“Thank you,” you replied, practically a whimper. Your chest felt tight, like someone was squeezing your heart in your chest. You were waiting, just waiting, for Luke to tell you what was next.

He rose to sit on the bed next to you, guiding you to shift over so you were sitting on his lap. “I’m going to spank you,” he whispered against your lips. “Just ten times. That’s all. It’ll go fast, but I’m not going to go easy on you. I know you can take it.” Luke kissed you again, snuck his tongue into your mouth for a quick, far too quick pass, before pulling back. “Turn over, baby, and lean over my knee, yeah?”

Your movements were slow, your brain turning foggy again like it was in the car. Luke helped you over his knee, still clothed. The contrast between how clothed he was and how naked you were almost made you drool. It was nearly embarrassing, being this down bad for Luke when he seemed to be completely fine, unaffected.

Luke snapped you out of your thoughts with a spank. The pain was only there for a split second before Luke was rubbing soothing circles over your skin. You shivered when he dipped his hand lower and trailed a finger through your folds.

“So wet,” he murmured.

You clenched down and he pulled away, only to deliver a second slap to your cheek. You shivered, goosebumps rising over your arms.

“So, baby, tell me,” Luke began, bringing down his hand again. “Why am I spanking you?” He waited for you to answer before bringing his hand down again. “Because I swallowed– oh– when you told me not to.”

“Mhm. Why else?”

Another spank. Now, it was starting to sting. Your ass had turned a pretty shade of pink that caused Luke to bite his lip and run his hands over your skin, feeling the heat radiate off the surface.

You were quiet. You weren’t quite sure. Holding his come in your mouth had been the punishment for not pulling off when he told you to. You had been slow to say please in the car, but that wasn’t ever something Luke would punish you for, just something he’d remind you to do. “For, um…” You trailed off, not sure what to say.

Luke scoffed and spanked you three times, harsh enough that his handprint stayed imprinted on your body for longer than it normally did when he spanked you. You cried out, your head dropping and tears welling up in your eyes.

“‘For, um,’” he mocked. “You don’t know? You’re that fucking dumb that you can’t remember what happened less than an hour ago?”

“Lu, please,” were the words that escaped your mouth instead of an answer to his question. They were teary and he almost stopped, almost, just because of how your voice shook.

“Please what?” He spat, another slap echoing throughout the room.

“I don’t know,” You sobbed. “I don’t know why you’re mad at me.”

“Five more,” Luke warned you and you nodded.

It took a lot out of you, agreeing for five more, but Luke wouldn’t do anything he didn’t think you could handle.

“How about this, baby?” Luke said. Slap. “For touching John’s hair the same way you touch mine?” Slap. “For letting the boys guide you into the restaurant like you’re their girlfriend, not mine.” Slap. “For sending John off to get me a drink when I told you to do so?” Slap. “For not listening?” Slap. “For being a fucking brat?”

You wailed, slumped against Luke. He got a good look at you in the mirror, boneless over his knee. He took in the red skin of your ass, tracing the line of his raised handprint.

“You’re mine,” Luke continued, sounding off. You turned your head towards the mirror, eyes hazy but still able to make him out. He was waiting for you to look at him, for your eyes to meet his. “You can’t– you can’t treat him like he’s special.”

And suddenly, it all clicked. Luke was jealous because he was scared of the same thing you’d skated around in your conversation right after the game. Luke wanted to be special, wanted you to see him and need him. He needed you to need him, to let him take control and take care of you and decide things for you, all because he didn’t want to be the person who lost everything because he wasn’t good enough. Even the idea that John could possibly take Luke’s place, as preposterous as it was to you, sent Luke into a spiral.

“Fuck me, Luke,” you said, voice shaky and light because of the headspace you were in. “Take me. I’m yours. Prove it.”

Gently, so gently in contrast to his prior actions, Luke helped you up and lay you down on your back on the bed, placing a pillow under your hips. You lay there for a few minutes, blinking slowly and watching as Luke shed his clothes and rummaged through his dresser drawers for something. His back was to you and you smiled to yourself, too fucked out to let out a giggle, at his backside. When Luke turned around, two of his gameday ties in hand, he cocked his head to the side at your smile.

“What are you smiling about?” He asked.

“Boy butts are so funny,” You answered. “They’re just so small. Like… where are your hips, Lu?”

Luke blinked a few times, then shook his head. “Oh my God, you’ve lost it.”

“I’ve been thinking it. We need to get you in the gym.”

“You’re being a brat.”

“And your butt is small.”

“Oh, fuck you,” Luke scoffed. He had walked to the bed and was tying one of your hands to his headboard.

“I’m waiting.”

Luke huffed out a laugh at your response. “You’re making it hard to dom you, baby.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, was the road head not enough?”

Luke shushed you, moving to your other hand and tying that one with the other tie.

“What about the spitting in my mouth and spanking me?” You continue, goading him.

Luke crawled up your body, kissing up your stomach and chest and neck as he went.

One more sentence, and he wouldn’t find it so difficult to dominate you for this final stretch.

He’s hovering over your lips, his breath fanning out over them.

“I bet Johnny could do it better.”

Luke pulled back, jaw dropped. His mouth returned to a strait line and his eyes turned murderous. There it was, there’s the dominance that he thought he lost.

You smirked at him, proud of yourself for the comment you made, until Luke’s palm made contact with your cheek. Your head turned with the impact and you swore your heart stopped. You were too surprised to say anything. As the seconds of silence passed where you and Luke just stared at each other, same shocked expression on your face, you realized: huh. That’s not so different from when he spanks me.

Then, another second after that: That was kind of… hot.

“Are you okay?” Luke breathed out. He’s practically frozen in place.

“Yeah,” you replied. “Oh my God, Luke, yeah.” You pulled on the restraints above you, itching to get him inside of you. You circled your legs around his waist and raised your hips, trying to make contact with him. “Fuck, Lu, that was so hot, please fuck me.”

Luke blinked twice and searched your face for any discomfort, anything that would show him that you were upset or hurt by his slap. He hadn’t even done it intentionally, just driven by the pure rage of you mentioning John, saying that John could be better for you than Luke was.

It wasn’t until your wiggling hips caused his cock to make contact with your weeping pussy that he began to move.

He started by pinning your hips down.

“Greedy,” he chastised.

“I need you in me, don’t treat me like I’m made of glass,” you whined.

Luke positioned himself at your entrance and snapped his hips forward, burying himself inside you in one fell swoop.

It knocked all the breath out of you. Even after dating Luke for ages, his size still surprised you.

“How’s that, huh? Can you feel me? Do you think I’m treating you gently?” Luke asked, grinding his teeth as he fucked in and out of you. His skin was slapping against yours and he moved one of our legs so your knee was thrown over his shoulder. “You think Marino could fuck you like this?” He practically spat out John’s name, disgust coating each syllable.

“Probably,” you quipped, your voice snarky. You were itching for Luke to slap you again, or something, because he wasn’t giving it everything. He was still shaken up by the fact that he hit you at all.

“‘Probably,’” He repeated, incredulous. “You’ll never know, will you, baby?” He snaps his hips harder, faster. “This is my pussy. It only gets wet for me, you only spread your legs for me, you can be a slut all you want but only in the confines of these four walls. You can be bad, only right here… where I’m able to fuck. it. out. of you.”

You moan, wanton and long in the back of your throat. Your hands are aching to grab his hair, to twist the curls between your fingers. “Lu, my hand,” you told him.

“What about it?” He asked, not slowing his pace.

“Untie it, please!��

Luke looked down at you, confused. “Why?”

You whined, keening as your back arched and you squeezed his cock. “Need to get a hand on you, Lu, fuck. Wanna pull your hair. So pretty, so much prettier than John’s.”

“Oh,” he whispered, his stomach turning. He reached up to undo the knot, trying to continue to fuck you and untie it at the same time. When your hand came free, it immediately found purchase in his curls. Your fingernails scraped his scalp and his eyes rolled in the back of his head as he bucked into you with uncoordinated thrusts. “Fuck, Y/N,” he groaned. “Gonna make me come.”

“Please,” you begged. “Inside me, inside me–”

Your vision went white and your pussy was like a vice around him as you came.

“Yeah, yeah,” Luke agreed, voice strained. He watched the bliss wash over your features and whined. “Fuck you til you’re full, show everyone you’re all mine.”

It’s the thought of pumping his seed into you, making you round with his child, that sends Luke over the edge. No one would think to take you from him then, not that you’d ever go. No one would ever be able to call you theirs like he could call you his, not when he’s fucked you full, not when you’re carrying his baby.

“So perfect for me,” Luke mumbled in your ear, collapsing on top of you as he came down from his orgasm.

“Just for you, Lu.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.” You paused, rubbing his back. “You know we have to talk about this, right? You’re more than enough and I don’t want you to feel insecure anymore.”

Luke pulled himself out of you, wincing at the sensitivity. “Can we talk about it tomorrow? I think we could both use some rest.”

He got up from the bed and walked into his bathroom, grabbing a towel and coming back to wipe you clean.

“Can it wait that long?” You fixed him with a look of concern.

“Baby.” Luke cut his eyes at you, then finished wiping you down. “It can wait until tomorrow.”

You shrugged. “Okay,” you agreed, then made yourself comfortable, pulling the covers over your body. You turned over, back to Luke, and spoke like it was an afterthought. “I loved it when you slapped me, you know.”

Luke groaned, leaned over to give you a kiss on your cheek. “I’m sorry I was mean.”

“Mmm, mean Luke gets me hot just like sweet Luke,” you replied. You turned your head and kissed his lips. “I like sweet Luke more, though. Sweet Luke cuddles me while I’m asleep.”

Luke laughed, going to toss the dirty towel in the dirty clothes hamper. “Sweet Luke will be back to cuddle you after he brushes his teeth,” he said.

When he returned, your breath was even and you had already fallen asleep, the ghost of a smile still gracing your lips. Luke bit his tongue, joined you under the covers, and threw his arm over the curve of your waist. Within just a few minutes, he was fast asleep next to you, softly snoring with his nose pressed into your hair.

notes: so, I, uh..... got a little carried away. I just kept having ideas. And I hope it worked out for me, to be fair. Hiiiiiii anon I hope this was good for youuuu love you bigggg I felt so awky-tawky writing some of this because as much as I would looooove a man to treat me like this, it feels so silly to write. Anyway. Loving y'all.

SEND MORE REQUESTS! I'LL GET TO THEM EVENTUALLY (they might not all be this long LOLLL)

#puck-luck's fics #luke hughes #luke hughes smut #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes x y/n #nhl smut #nhl x reader #nhl fic #nhl fanfiction #lh43 #andy writes anything🍄

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