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mickyschumacher · 5 months

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𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐅𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 .ೃ࿐

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: after seeing you with play with some young fans you and charles meet on the streets of monaco, charles can't get his mind off having his own. or in which, charles has got a case of the baby fever. 𝐏𝐓. 𝟐 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄!

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: established relationship, fluff, 18+ (minors DNI), unprotected sex (wrap it if u don't want babies), breeding kink (obvi), charles meeting the bare minimum requirement to be a good human (lmao), slight lactation kink, mutual orgasms, handjob, pussy rubbing(?), reader is sensitive as shit, google translated french (my bad to the french speakers), a questionable perversion of having children that always comes with this context, also questionable whether this qualifies as baby fever but yeh

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: charles leclerc x fem!reader

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 3k+

𝐀/𝐍: wrote this one when i first started if you can't tell by the mention of pedro and tlou! my absence explained in another post! ♡︎

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

⋆ •°. 。 .°• ⋆

Charles loved his fans, especially Tifosi. After you, his family and friends, they were the most important people in his lives and constantly motivated him. Most of them were kind and sweet to him and loved and cherished you more than they loved him.

That's why whenever fans asked for photos with you, the both of you or autographs, Charles always accepted. He rarely refused them unless the fans gave off a certain vibe that rubbed him the wrong way; crazed fans or fans who liked you a little bit too much for his liking.

His favourite fans normally, however, were children. It was definitely pressurising to have that many children look up to him but Charles found it rewarding. They were so young and full of dreams that he could help fulfil. They always looked at him wide-eyed with their jaws open as if they had just seen an angel walk by, similarly to how Charles reacted when he had first seen you in the streets of Monaco.

Today was no exception. It was currently the mid-season break and you two were roaming the partially empty streets after having breakfast out, relishing in the privacy of Monaco. Halfway through your walk, you and Charles had bumped into some small fans, literally.

A set of 3-year old twin sisters and a boy who only seemed a year or two older had run to Charles and you yelling 'Charles!' and 'It's Ferrari!'.

Charles instantly was smiling at them, crouching down to talk to them and entertain all their bombarding questions that flew one after the other.

"Is the car really that fast?"

"Can I go in the car?!"

"I hope you win!"

You chuckled softly as Charles answered them with ease. You looked at the parents who also seemed to be equally as excited as their children. "Do you want me to take a photo for you guys?" You inquired softly.

The parents looked at you with wide eyes. "Can you? If it's no bother!" The father fretted, sharing a slightly alarmed expression with his wife.

You shook your head and smiled. "It's not a problem." They held out their phone and you took it into your hands, opening the camera. You hummed as you looked at the group. "Let's do three photos. One with the three angels, one with the parents and one family one?" You asked.

The parents were about to nod when the kids suddenly refused. "Four! We want one with a pretty girl!" One of the sisters yelled out, pointing at you.

Your mouth fell open while your body flushed with slight embarrassment. Charles grinned at you, agreeing with the children profusely. You gave a playful sigh and nodded. The children and parents began to poise for the camera several times and left the last one for you to take a selfie with them.

The parents turned to Charles, inviting him into a conversation as they apologised for the kids running to him all of a sudden.

You could hear Charles say it was fine when you felt a tug at the bottom your dress. You crouched down to the children who now crowded you.

The boy looked at you wide-eyed while the two girls poked your arm and asked "Are you a princess?"

You smiled softly. "I am!" You implored, "How did you know?" You asked in a hushed tone.

The children giggled. "Princesses are always pretty, that's why!" The boy said with red cheeks.

You hummed, pondering over the statement. You brought your hand out to pat the girls' heads and pinch the little boy's chubby cheeks. "That must mean all of you are also princesses and princes, hmm?"

The children cheered in agreement, giggling to themselves before discussing who was the best prince or princesses out of them all.

"I'm the best prince!" One sister said, putting her hands on her hips in determination. Her older brother looked at her almost offended. "How can that be? I'm the best. I'm older."

The other sister looked at her siblings dumbfounded. "Why can't we all be the best?" She sighed.

You grinned at her answer. "You're right! You are all the best. Equally. You know why?" You asked.

Three pair of big eyes looked at you with curiosity swirling within them as they shook their small heads 'no'.

You brought their hands together and held them in your palm. "Because you're siblings. You're family. That's the best."

The kids stared at you blankly, probably trying digest your words as much as they could at that age. The previous sister smiled widely, letting out a deafening yell, running to her mother. "Did you hear that, maman? We're all the best!" She screamed with joy.

You stood from the ground slowly, grinning at all the kids. "I did. We all heard that, ma cherié. It's true!" The mother chorused, giving you a thankful smile.

You smiled in response, shaking your head as if it was nothing. The parents and kids began to say goodbye to you and Charles, although the latter did so rather reluctantly as you walked over to your boyfriend.

You raised a brow at the dazed expression on Charles' face. "Cha? Mon amour, what's going on in that head of yours?" You hooked your arm with his, resting your head on his shoulder.

Charles blinked. "Hmm? Oh, nothing. Just thinking about those kids. Cute, right?" He breathed out, pressing a kiss to the side of your head.

You smiled. "Very," You agreed as the two of you began to walk to Charles' car.

━━━━━━━━━━━

Arriving home, the two of you decided to lounge in your living room, not bothered to do anything else for the day. You had managed to put on the newest episode of 'The Last of Us', eager to find out what was happening next.

You and Charles laid on the couch; your head resting on his chest while he cuddled you from behind. You were intently watching Pedro Pascal after being besieged with edit after edit of him on TikTok. Charles on the other hand wasn't focusing at all.

All he could think about what those kids you and him had met earlier that morning. Specifically, you conversing with them. You hadn't realised since you were so caught up with them, but at one point him and the parents had stopped talking and tuned into your conversation with the kids.

Charles had talked to you about kids before. You both wanted them and although Charles always talked about having three kids specifically, just like him and his brothers, he would leave it up to whatever you wanted because at the end of the day, it was you giving birth, not him. He would prefer to have children when he was slightly a bit more older, you both had more control over his life, and obviously with at least one championship under his belt.

But after today, Charles was prepared to throw that plan away. As lewd as it was, the idea of you getting you pregnant and having a family not only touched his heart, but immorally touched his cock.

Knowing that he would have to ensure that his cum was entirely within you, stuffed into your cervix, and not letting a single drop come out made him feel feral. To make matters worse, you would look like a goddess when pregnant because hell, you were so beautiful now. Round and full with his child because he made sure to fuck you till you were overflowing with his cum. Or when your breasts became heavy and sensitive to his touch, leaking sporadically, giving him the opportunity to clean you up with his mouth.

God, he was an animal. The worst.

"Charles, what are you doing?" Your voice erupted into the air, breaking him out of his deep train of thought.

Charles blinked at your question in confusion before he looked down, seeing his hand traversing under your dress and up your inner thigh. He looked over to your amused eyes peering at him.

"Sorry," He let out with a sigh, rubbing the warm flesh of your thigh softly. "I just... I can't stop thinking about children."

You raised a brow, not seeing the correlation to Charles' wondering hand. "Children?" You iterated, running a hand through his hair.

Charles shut his eyes at your actions, feeling at ease. "Those kids today... make me want our own children. Now. I want to have children now."

Charles peeked his eyes open, looking at your astounded expression with a bit of fear. "What about our plans? What was it? Thirty-three, a championship, lives under control, and then children?" You queried. "I-I'm not mad or anything, Cha. Just curious. Why the change of heart all of sudden?

You had now turned to face Charles, knees on either side of him, straddling his lap as you became fully attentive to him.

Charles played with the tresses of your hair that had fallen past your face before tucking them gently behind your ear. "You would just make such a good mother, mon ange. You're so sweet and kind. You now how to talk to them. God, pregnancy would look so good on you. I can't stop thinking about you pregnant," Charles let out a small moan a thought. "You all round with our child, hormonal, sensitive at my touch."

Charles' fingers brushed over your neck, making you shudder involuntarily. You melted at his words. Charles thought a great deal of you. You weren't opposed to the idea either, in fact all of his words were making you hornier by the minute.

"You know what?" You queried, "I also want to have children. You would make an amazing father, Cha. I know you would," You softly said, pressing a brief kiss to his lips.

Charles pulled away, boring his gaze into you. "Yeah?" He whispered, eyes soft and full of lust and love.

"Yeah," You repeated. "A father of all three," You teased, giving him a small knowing smile.

Charles' eyes darkened slightly at your words. His hands rested on your hips, his half-hard on in his pants turned harder, pressing into your clothed pussy. "Mon amour," He whispered into your ear, making the hairs on your body stand straight. "Should I fuck a baby into you?" He pulled his face back, waiting for your answer.

You sunk your teeth into your bottom lip, relishing in his words. "If you're going to fuck a baby in me, Charles, you better do it right the first time."

Charles groaned, grinning at your words. Staring at you with a fiery gaze, he quickly brought you down into a hungry kiss. His grip on your hips tightened while your hands became entangled in his hair. Another groan fell against your lips when you tugged at his locks.

Your heart slammed against your chest, beating loudly in your ears. Your skin was heated with Charles' touch ravaging all over you; grazing your arms, squeezing your ass only for you to press further into him. Your stomach surged with desire, feeling his clothed cock grind into you. "Fuck," Your swollen lips uttered out, high with an intoxicating buzz circulating your veins.

"Charles, I need–" You began only to be cut off by your own whimper as Charles bucked his hips up into you, setting a pace of stimulation with the tent of his pants and the gritty material of his shorts.

Charles smiled at the sight of your head thrown back and your back arching. "What do you need, ma cherié? Hmm? Tell me and I'll give it to you, my love," He sighed out, feeling his cock ache in its restraints.

"Fuck, j'ai besoin de ta bite, Charles," You murmured, feeling the temperature of your body rise with every passing second. Fuck, I need your cock, Charles.

Charles grinned at your use of French so early on. Normally when you were nearing your climax, you would lose yourself to all the French you knew. "As you wish, princesse," He stated. "Let's get this off, hmm?" He began to slid down the straps of your dress, pressing warm kisses on your shoulder. The sight of your bare breasts made him sigh in content, licking a strip from the base of your neck and down the valley of your breasts.

You felt a shiver crawl up your spine, feeling Charles' hands wander down your back while he pushed the fabric past your ass, hooking his fingers under your the waistband of your panties. You lifted your body up, aiding him in getting rid of your dress and underwear.

You settled back down on Charles' lap, pushing your wet core against his clothed cock. Charles nipped at your neck, dazed at the feeling of your pussy on him. Your hands reached out, rushing to get those shorts and shirt off of him. Pulling his shirt of him, you placed a trail of kisses down his chest. You could feel his lower stomach tense as you neared his waistband. With a grin, impatiently, you took off his shorts and the boxers underneath.

Your stomach churned and pussy throbbed at Charles' red, aching cock springing up, begging to be touched. You flickered your sultry gaze to your boyfriend, reaching over to put your fingers in his mouth.

Charles maintained eye-contact, lubing your fingers generously with his spit before he felt a shudder rip through him when you teasingly pushed your pussy to graze the angry tip of his cock.

"Vous taquinez," Charles uttered out almost with a whine after you removed your fingers. You tease.

"Don't be too sad, mon amour," You breathed out, trailing your wet fingers over his v-line before wrapping them around his cock. Charles sucked in a sharp breath as your hand began move up and down his shaft, mixing his spit and his pre-cum together, giving him a new, unique shine of his own.

"You wanted to see me pregnant, right? Full of your cum. So pregnant that everyone will know in a few months that you fucked me that good," You started, eyes trained on him while you pumped his cock with a tantalising grip. "We need a lot of your cum today. I'm just getting you prepared," You purred.

Charles let out a series of high moans, letting your words wash all over him and mix with his euphoria. His fingers reached out to your wet folds, stroking your heated slip with need. You trembled at his touch, bucking your hip against his fingers, increasing the pace of your hand on his cock.

Both of you moaned loudly while you jerked each other off, breathy sounds bouncing off the walls of your apartment. "Merde," Charles swore, pressing his head further into the couch, hips sensitively bucking into your hand as you brushed the slit of his cock.

He pushed himself, refusing to slack at your pleasure. He rubbed your pussy, groaning at the wet, glistening folds that were coating his fingers. You moaned, feeling a familiar buzzing pool in your stomach. "I need to," Charles panted out, covering your hand with his to stop you, "I need to..." He trailed off once again, pulling you closer to him.

Charles could barely think straight. He didn't know what he was saying or what he was doing. All he knew was that he needed to feel your pussy against his cock.

A guttural whimper escaped your mouth when Charles rubbed his cock against your folds. God, the both of you could get off just like this. He sighed out, eyes clouded with pleasure while he bathed in the warmth of your pussy. He could feel you jerk time to time against him, sensitive from nearing your climax.

You were was a sight to behold. You couldn't control your hips or yourself. You were just so receptive, automatically rubbing your pussy and clit up and down the head of cock. Your head falling back, supported by air while your back arched with lust. Sweat clung to your warmed body and your dry hair was now coated in a light sheen of grease. Face contorted with pleasure and flushed with heat.

"I'm gonna cum, fuck," Charles hissed out, partially angry that he already was about to climax but how could he not at such a view and feeling?

You blinked through your pleasure, remembering how you had gotten into this situation in the first place. You pushed your hips to him, hovering over his cock and sliding down onto him. You whimpered, feeling full with his throbbing cock in you.

Charles groaned, feeling your warm walls clench around him as you began to move your hips up and down. He watched your breasts bounce, making him flicker to that thought of them being full with milk once he got you pregnant. He would be selfish and have a taste of them himself.

Your pussy was a siphon, drawing and pulling his cock even further into you. Charles placed his hands on your hips, pushing you down on his cock to ensure he was balls-deep within you, fully sheathed. The breathy air was now replaced with both of your lewd moans and the sound of your skin slapping and sticking against one another.

"Merde, merde," Charles began to chant, increasing the pace of his hips snapping and rutting into your folds. Your hands fell to his own hands, tightening around them as pleasure bubbled at the pits of your stomach.

"Fuck, Charles. Cum in me, mon amour. Fais de moi une mère. Hmm? Imagine it. I'll be even more sensitive, my tits will be heavy and sore with milk and I'll ask you to massage them... everyone will know what we did," You moaned loudly. Make me a mother.

Charles's hips came to a halt, shaking with pleasure while he poured ropes and ropes of his hot cum deep into your walls. He let out staggered moans, feeling you clench around him and take even more of his load. Charles pressed his swollen lips onto your, kissing you dizzy while he thrusted out his high, ensuring his cum was staying within you.

Charles sighed out, pressing his forehead against yours. Realising you were once again on the brink of cumming, with his cock still in you, he brought his fingers to your engorged clit, rubbing the sensitive nub gently yet harshly.

He felt your walls grip him even tighter if possible as you began to convulse in his arms. "Jesus fucking Christ," You sobbed out, waves of your euphoric climax hitting you.

Christ, you were so sensitive, hips jerking up against his fingers, grinding to maximise your stimulation. He couldn't even stop you if he wanted to.

"Merde, ma cherié, cum for me. Yes, just like that," Charles coaxed, groaning as you somehow managed to get more cum out of him.

You let out a final whimper before collapsing onto him, feeling Charles' softening cock drive and push the cum deeper into you. You let out a low moan against his chest.

Charles pushed your chin up with his finger, looking into your eyes. He smiled, pressing a slow, soft kiss to your lips. "You did so well, mon amour," He praised, running a hand through your sweaty hair, getting a better glance of your face.

You gave him a weak smile, peering up at him through your eyelashes. "You think we did a good job?" You queried, voice quiet and tired. "You think we'll have a child soon?"

Charles grinned at you, planting another kiss on the side of your head. "If I didn't, I'll fuck you again and make sure that test has two lines."

𝐏𝐓. 𝟐 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄!

#f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #formula 1 #f1 smut #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #mickyschumacher

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sugarcoatedstarkey · 5 months

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hate sex. rafe or drew idc, u have total creative freedom w my suggestion!

Hate Sex

Pairing - Drew Starkey x costar!reader

Summary - good old hate sex.

Warnings - sexual intercourse, fingering, language, choking, name calling. 18+

The anger bubbled in your chest, rising up your neck leaving behind a dark pink tinge to your skin. You had never let Drew get to you this bad before, you were pulling at the roots of your hair just thinking about his punchable but good looking face.

“Breath Y/n” your friend stated, she had hidden herself behind the very small table in your trailer. She was quite frightened when you let your anger out.

She jumped halfway into the air when you threw your phone at the floor, shattering the screen in the process.

“Now look what that fucker has made me do!” You all but screeched, you couldn’t take it anymore. You had to go and speak to him, how DARE he talk about you like that in an interview.

“Oh no no no, you can’t go speaking to him when you're this angry! He didn’t do anything wrong!” Your friend shouted, slamming her palm over her mouth when she realized what she let slip.

“How could you side with him?!”

“Oh come off it y/n, he said lovely things about you!”

“All very untrue things! He made me look like some weak girl who was falling at his knees.. no you know what I’m leaving!”

Before your friend could stop you, you darted out the trailer door and sprinted for him. Exactly 23 steps later your fist pounded at his trailer, you didn’t wait for him to answer and stormed in.

Drew stood in the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his lower half, steam filling the very small shower. Both Chase and Austin sat on the couch staring at you with wide eyes, the sound of the PlayStation in the background echoed through the deafening silence from the four of you.

“What’s up y/n?” Drew sang, giving you his famous boy next door grin. You just wanted to rip his face off but also kiss his face off.

“How dare you?!” You yelled, Drew’s eyes creased together in the middle as he looked at you in confusion. “Want to enlighten me on what I’ve done now sweetcheeks?” He chuckled, stepping out of the bathroom and closing the door. Your eyes dropped for only a moment when a bead of water ran down his chest and dissolved into the towel.

He gave you a knowing look that you shook off. “What’s all that shit you said in the interview?” You questioned, he let out a throaty laugh. Almost a cackle. This had you wild, you stormed towards him with curled fists at your side. “Don’t laugh! You made me out to be some weak girl, talking about how I’m the main person who laughs at your jokes on set, that I always get emotional at old couples!” You shouted, the old couple remark was true.

You did get emotional BUT that didn’t give him the right to tell people, it’s your personal life, personality. They get what they get, they don’t need to know the deeper version of you.

“Y/n, Come on. I wasn’t doing it out of spite” he stated, he was frustrated now. You always jump on him the second you can, yelling down his throat and making him feel like everything he does is wrong. “I honestly don’t give a shit! Don’t talk about me in interviews again!”

He rolled his eyes and looked over your shoulder at your friends, they had both gotten up ready to bounce. They hated being around when the two of you fought.

“Don’t roll your eyes! God! Drew you're so frustrating!”

“Me?! Me, frustrating? You talk some shit y/n, your always down my throat”

“Because you're always being so difficult!”

“Maybe you should lighten up a little and realize I’m a decent human being and your just angry at the world”

“Fuck you Drew”

“No, fuck you”

It happens in a split second, you're both reaching for each other. Your lips hastily press together, your arms wrapping around his shoulders. His hands cup your jaw, your tongues fight with one another. Even kissing, you have to be fighting.

“That’s our que” you heard from behind you, but you didn’t want to pull away. One of his hands drops from your face, grasping onto your waist he pulls you closer to his body.

“You're still annoying” you breathe, his lips trail down your neck. Sucking at the flesh between your collarbone and throat. Your nails scratched down the length of his back leaving deep red lines.

“You're still a bitch” he bit, pushing you towards the couch. Your back met the cushion with a thump, his body trailed behind closely. Parting your legs so he could slot between them.

You had forgotten he was only in a towel, which now parted giving you the most glorious view of his thick hard cock. “Shit” you whined, practically forcing his body down on yours. His hands bunched up your dress to expose your cotton thong, his cock nudged at your pussy.

“How can someone so annoying be blessed with such a perfect cock” you spoke, his chuckle was muffled by the skin of your chest.

“How can someone so frustrating be so fucking hot” he commented, his mouth left kisses along the apex of your chest. You pushed yourself to sit up, pulling the material of your dress over your head.

You now sat in just your panties, his hands palming at your breasts. “Fuck you” you moaned, his teeth pulling your hardened nub. Suckling at your nipple, while the other hand grabbed your ass cheek. “I’m getting their baby” he whispered, the pet name sending shivers down your spine.

“Touch me”.

His fingers dipped under the material of your panties, sliding his pointer and forefinger between your fold and back up to your clit. “Oh shit, yeah like that” you cried, grinding your pussy into his hand. Slipping his two fingers into your cunt, you bite down on his shoulder as he finger fucked you. Pressing the palm of his hand into your clit at the same time, sending your body into overdrive. “You like that? Of course the little bitch likes to be fingerbanged hm? Been thinking about these fingers inside of you huh?” He grunted, brows creased in the middle. He watched your face intently, the way your mouth dropped opened and you gasped for more breath.

“Answer me!”

“YES yes oh fuck yes! Wanted these fingers in me since I met you” you screamed, his dick twitching at your statement. Your moans bounced off the wall and you were sure everyone could hear.

He abruptly pulled his fingers out of you, a slur of protest fell from your lips. “What the fuck Drew?!”.

“Get up and sit on my cock, quit whining and do what I say for once you little slut”.

The vulgarity to his words had your insides fluttering like a damn school girl, pulling your panties down and straddling his hips.

Reaching between the two of you to grasp his cock, giving him a rough few tugs. “Fuck… what I’d do to have your pretty little mouth around my cock right now.” He groaned, his head arched against the backrest of the couch. You began to slide off him, his hands catching your hips before you could get on your knees.

“Right now I want your tight little cunt to sit on my cock, next time I’ll stuff your throat with my cock and make you eat the angry words that you constantly spit out”.

Your ears pricked up at the next part, unbothered by the way he spoke to you. “Fuck you Drew” you spat, his large hand held the base of his cock for you. The tip of his bright pink head nudged at your opening, you took him in painfully slow. Your eyes rolling back as his cock stretched you wide, your hands pressed against his chest for leverage. “Oh-h… oh” you cried, his cock buried deep within your walls.

He gives you a moment to adjust, eyes staring hard at your expressions. The moment your eyes reopened he was bringing your body up and down on him harshly, causing a string of curse words to slip from your mouth.

Your tits bounced in his face, you finally brought yourself out of the sex daze you had fallen into and moved your hips, grinding against him roughly.

Your fingers wrapped around the base of his throat, his eyes were wild. Dark and full of lust, watching you gnaw at your lip. “That’s it pretty girl, fuck my cock like its best goddamn cock you’ve ever had”.

Your nodding your head in agreement, “the best fucking cock, so big” you cried, unaware you had just agreed to him. You were so drunk on dick, you had forgotten how much he irritated you.

“That’s right, best goddamn cock you’ve had. Show me how much you love it” he ordered, and you obliged. Riding him like your life depended on it, throwing your head back. Your nails dug into the flesh of his shoulders, his fingers grabbing your waist tightly.

“Fuck! Just like that!” He groaned, his hands caressed your back. Ducking his head to envelope your nipple into his mouth. “Yes yes yes yes yes” you mumbled, your bodies had a light sheen of sweat to it. “Move” he order, pulling you up from his cock only to spin you around. Pushing your knees into the cushion of the couch and thrusting his cock back into you.

“SHIT!” You cried, clawing at the back of the couch. His large hand pushed you down against the couch, putting one of his legs into the couch to give himself a better angle to fuck into you. “Yeah you like it rough huh”.

The angle of his cock had you in tears, overwhelming pleasure coursed through you. “Of course you like it rough, you’re a dirty angry slut” He could feel you where close, the way your pussy walls fluttered around him, reaching around to grasp your neck and pulling out of you. “DREW! You asshole” you cried, the pleasure that had building in your lower stomach fizzled out only to reignite when his fingers closed around your neck.

“Jump”

You did as order and wrapped your legs around him, he slipped his cock back into you. Moving you both just enough so your bum sat against the bench, ruthlessly he fucked into you. Squeezing his finger around your throat, your own hand coming around to grip his wrist, you screamed and cried in pleasure.

“You dirty little slut! Who knew you were more than just a whining bitch” he spat, pressing his lips to yours before you could fight back. Your fingers scratched up and down his back, the only way you could tell him he was an asshole.

“Drew” you warned, your pussy walls pulsating around his cock and you chased your high. “You're gonna come? Go on then pretty girl, come around my cock” he urges.

His hips move faster and deeper, dropping his finger between you to fondle your clit.

“Holy shit! Oh o-oh!” You cried, letting the overwhelming pleasure knock you over. Curling your toes and tightening your legs around him, your pussy pulsated around his cock. Your nails dug deep into his shoulders trying to ground yourself.

He wrapped her arm around your waist tightly and followed suit, coming deep inside of you. “Fuck fuck fucking hell”.

His sweaty forehead met your chest, both your breathing labored. A few moments of silent breaths go by and he pulls away from you, helping you down from the bench.

“This doesn’t mean I suddenly like you” you comment, stepping around him to collect your dress. Rushing into the bathroom to clean yourself up.

A few moments and words to yourself go by and you open the bathroom door; eyes searching the floor for your panties.

“Looking for these?” He questioned as you stepped out, holding onto your thong with his finger like a prize.

“Fuck you”

“Just did”

Taglist - @laylasbunbunny @h34rtsformilli @lydiasxxsworld @hallecarey1 @mountloverr @outerbankspov @cameronmedia @crunchy-leaves77 @vigilanteshitposting @pedrisgatorade @phoenixssugarbaby @rafemotherfuckingcameron @s-we-e-t-t-ea @rafesthroatbaby @alltoomay @moremaybank @drewstarkeysbae @jjmaybankisbae

2K notes · View notes

rowarn · 8 months

Note

hi rowan!! can i jus say i LOVE the way you write soft simon<33

what are your thoughts on soft konig?

thank u so much my love 🥺🥺

size difference ofc, foreplay, könig being good in bed <333333 afab!reader, no prns

SOFT!KÖNIG ..... i love soft men. i love protective men. if there's one thing about me it's that protective men just tickle my pickle like nothing else

and könig is sooooo protective. it comes natural to him. he spends a big part of his time away from home and killing people.

but the second he's home with his sweet, precious baby he basically melts!!!

he's the type of man who always has to be touching you. wiping a crumb of food off your cheek, having a stable hand on the small of your back as he guides you through a thick crowd, your small hand tucked firmly in his when he sits beside you at a cafe, his hand gripping your thigh when he's driving or when you're nestled next to him on the couch. hes always touching you.

the type of man who doesn't let you lift a single finger bc he can do whatever it is you need. all you need to do is sit there nice and comfy and be sweet for him, that's all he wants!

he's always complimenting you he's never shy about it. the second you get up he's calling you pretty. telling u how nice your skin looks. tells u that ur hair looks cute that day. he's always complimenting you, his soft little heart just melts at the way your eyes light up when he does it so why wouldn't he???? he loves to make u happy after all

this caring, devoted nature bleeds into bed as well of course !!!

hes......so big......

he's always concerned he'll hurt you. he can easily kill men with his bare hands, he knows his own strength. the last thing he wants to do is lose control. so his touches and caresses are always methodical and thought out.

sex with könig is never rushed or rough. he's a gentle giant with u without a doubt. he won't leave marks or hit u in any form — not even to spank ur ass. wont choke you (but may wrap a hand around your throat and rest it there if y beg sweet enough)

he works you open slowly and carefully. he's so thorough that there's no way you don't cum from his foreplay alone ): he stretches you open with his thick fingers, slurps noisily on your clit to get you even wetter, it's all too much. he's used to feeling you twitch and squirm when he gets you ready, it barely phases him anymore!!! it's just part of the process now (:

"was that a good one, my sweet?" he'll ask ask he rids himself of his clothes, lidded eyes watching you recover from the intense orgasm he so effortlessly gave you <3

he usually does positions he can see you in but he also likes the prone bone position too. any position where u can lay there and just take it — letting him do all the work so u never have to lift a finger <3 so sweet of him !!!

when he finally gets his cock inside you, he always stops halfway and makes u cum like that before giving u the rest ): he doesn't want to give u too much at once and risk hurting you bc he's BIG and he knows it (not in a cocky way he's just overly aware of his own size)

afterwards, once again, u will never lift a finger. hell clean up the mess and snuggle all u want wherever u want. even if he has to carry u to a different room bc u wanna lay somewhere else.

those r some of my thoughts on soft könig <33333333

#könig x reader #könig smut #konig x reader #konig smut #cod smut #cod x reader #ask

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imninahchan · 3 months

Text

⌜ 𝑾𝑨𝑹𝑵𝑰𝑵𝑮: strangers to lovers, my poor spanish skills, casual and unprotected sex [you can't do that, c'mon!], readerʼs a brazilian woman, some portuguese words, dirty talk, age difference, finger sucking, male oral, manhandling, light pussy spanking, ʽpapiʼ, dumbification, dacryphilia. ˚ ☽ ˚.⋆ ⌝

꒰ 𝑨𝑼𝑻𝑯𝑶𝑹ʼ𝑺 𝑵𝑶𝑻𝑬 ꒱ sooo never thought about posting something in eng but @femmechaotic (thx baby) showed me her translation and i gave it a second chance. This was originally written by me in portuguese, thatʼs why the reader is brazilian. Eng is not our first language, sorry for any mistakes, just posting for the fun of it♡

𓍢ִ໋🀦 HE'S THE KIND OF MAN YOU'LL ONLY MEET ONCE IN A LIFETIME ─────

You realized this from the moment you laid eyes on him for the first time. Sitting a couple of tables away from his, on the balcony of the hotel lobby.

You simply couldn't help but notice it: the thick strands of dark hair, how his hands run through it, as the gentle morning wind blowed. The basic white tank top, a coat hanging over the chair next to him at the table. His big and pointed nose, his eyes hidden mysteriously behind the lenses of the fancy sunglasses.

He's definitely not Brazilian. You could tell just by the food he chose from the buffet on his plate. Youʼre just so genuinely intrigued by the whole set of ongoings, obsessed with watching him, that you forgot about your own — boring — breakfast. The buns were cooling next to the black coffee in the porcelain cup.

You wanted to open the messaging app on your phone and send a sassy comment to your best friend, saying something like: “omg u won't believe how cute is the guy i just saw”, but you didn't even have time for that. The man raises his chin, with his attention shifting from the phone device in his hands to noticing your presence ahead.

You look down immediately, feeling as if you had committed a crime and you've just been caught in the act. You bite your lip, trying to hold down a childish smile, like a vicious little girl. Your palms starts sweating; suddenly cold. The intention was to keep yourself busy with the porcelain cup in the short meantime, trying to deal with the awkward sensation of being caught.

Itʼs not working, of course. You didn't know whether to drink or not, sometimes you try to sip the hot liquid, but you give up halfway through, lost like a robot in a breakdown. And when he raises his eyes once more, in the same direction as you looked for so long, the man's gaze meet yours again.

It feels, apparently, like youʼre going to faint, to actually die, Jesus! You've never felt so embarrassed in your entire life and you insist on thinking about how you're never gonna be able to eat, think or breathe while being in this crime scene — also known as the balcony of the hotel lobby.

“Get up, then!”, you think to yourself. You pick up on a couple of the cold buns from the plate, taking a sip of the — now cold — coffee, and walking towards the lobby. Like, damn, youʼre not even dressed up, maybe the clothes are not so bad but you donʼt even have any makeup on or hair done the way you liked it so much (and did it religiously every day).

But there is an actual explanation for you not being ready. The plan, initially, was just having breakfast and enjoying the view for a short period of time, so you could visit the downtown in Madrid afterwards. Now, you are running away like a criminal, with your mouth full of bread heading towards the elevator.

When you finally thought that the closing of the gray automatic doors would mean freedom, your heart has one more reason to flutter, as soon as the man steps into the cubicle before he could lose the sight of you.

You decide to chew more quickly, hiding the other roll of bun between your hands. Standing next to you, he takes off his pair of glasses, holding his coat and a crossbody bag.

He looks at you.

— Enzo — he says, and from the way he announced his name, you can tell by his accent that he speak Spanish. You swipe the back of your hand over your mouth, wiping away any remaining crumbs.

— Oi... hmm — You stammer the response in Portuguese, automatically panicking again for a few seconds when realizing that your brain couldn't think of a greeting, even in your first language. After some quick struggles, you tell him your name.

— ¿Eres de aquí? ¿de Madrid? (Are you from here? From Madrid?)

— Ahm... — You stutter, again (unfortunately). — Brasil!

He smiles.

— Ah, sí. Brasil... ¡Es un lugar magnífico! (Oh, yes. Brasil... It's a wonderful place!) — and praises. But his gaze turns sharp, he needs to know: “Entiendes lo que digo, ¿no?” (Do you understand what I say, right?)

— Sí, sí! (Yeah, yes!) — you return with a wide smile back at him, almost hyperventilating.

Your desperation is pathetically noticeable, itʼs cute actually. He watched you, smiles softly, almost like a chuckle. The curiosity gets into your nerves, you wanted to ask more questions, extend the conversation, but the elevator reaches your floor, and you leave, too withdrawn to say anything.

“Shit”, you curse at yourself, it wasn't so difficult to have a decent small talk, you should've said something, anything. You brood all day long, thinking you're such a dummy for missing the opportunity. Why did you have to act like a stupid teenager, huh? Then, after what happened, not even the museums — that you were so excited to visit — were fun anymore, no place in this goddamn city could take away that little thread of regret from you.

In the next day, however, you go down for some coffee at the same time as you did the other day, with the foolish intention of trying to see him again, and thatʼs it, it worked; like a freaking miracle. The man was sitting in an armchair in the lobby, it seemed like he was waiting for you too, what were the odds?

You can even feel your legs wobble.

— ¡Buenos días! (Good morning!) — he greets you. — ¿Cómo se dice ‘Buenos días’ en Brasil? (How do you say ‘Good morning’ in Portuguese?)

It takes a few seconds for you to think and say it back, ‘Bom dia’ (Good morning), you respond. He smiles.

— Es muy parecido (It's pretty similar) — he comments, awkwardly. Then, looks at the buffet, “¿Vamos?” (Shall we?)

Although he sometimes used terms that you completely donʼt know the meaning of and have to ask him to explain again, the conversation is, apparently, going very well. You discover that he is older, Uruguayan, and not Spanish as you immediately thought he was. You tell him a little about the country you come from, and he gets enchanted by the way your accent pronounces his name. Enzo. Paying attention to the ʽzʼ sound, unlike the pronunciation in Spanish.

it was with his company that you explored the city. The both of you went to a small square together, had some ice cream, met tourists hotspots, then chatted while exploring a little shop nearby. You hated to admit it but the situation was indeed romantic. Later in the afternoon, you were taken by him to a bar.

There, the conversation extended even further, including the beer you guys shared. When you didn't understand anything he said, (what was quite often in the conversation) you just laughed, your cheeks getting really hot and red from smiling that much. Honestly, you could leave him talking to himself for hours, just because you loved the husky sound of his deep voice and his pair of brown sparkling eyes.

It didn't mean that you were in love or anything, right? Besides, there was no way you could fall in love in such a short period of time.

But the heat you felt emanating from your own body definitely meant something. It could be because of the dark blue button-down shirt — these pieces never fail to be attractive, right? —, or the silver ring that caught your eyes every time he articulated with his hands in the air. Even his perfume... ah, the perfume! A fragrance that filled your lungs, woody but with a slight sweet note. Projecting all day long, torturing, practically inviting you to bury your face in the curve of the moreno's neck.

At nighttime, he takes you back to the hotel: his excuse was that he wanted to help you with the shopping bags, as if you had bought all of Madrid. And it was supposed to end there, at your hotel room door, simple as that. He hands you your things, and the most he does is lean over, slowly, as if he is silently asking for permission, and so, he places a small kiss on the corner of your mouth, millimeters away from touching your lipstick-painted lips. But you hold his hand, before the man walks away down the hall, you donʼt let him escape.

He approaches you again, his other hand touches the corner of your face. Warm, affectionate. ¿Qué te pasa, nena? (What's wrong with you, baby?) The focus of his brown eyes are on your mouth now, the question is whispered, seductive. The touch of his fingers bypass your jaw until it gets on your chin. ¿Quieres algo más que un beso? (Do you want something more than a kiss?)

Youʼre not sure which words to use, which command to prefer. In fact, you donʼt even want to be thinking. You want to shut your brain, to be so dissociated so that only your body can enjoy the moment. You wrapp your arms around him, your face can finally hid in the curve of his neck, breathing in the intoxicating scent of his. You hear the sound of his chuckle, feeling his big hands being placed on your waist. ¿Qué quieres? Dímelo. (What do you want? tell me)

You look up to him, shy. The tip of your nose rubs against his, creating a friction that, just because of the absurd proximity, makes everything even more tense, burning erotic.

— No Brasil — you say, trying to hide it by biting your lip —, se diz ‘foder.’

Enzo's smile grows, almost in slow motion. “Foder” (fuck), he repeats the word in a whisper. Again, you donʼt even have to think much to understand. Everything sounded similar, and it seemed that your mind was connected to his by a chaotic carnal desire.

The Uruguayan's lips meets yours; his hot tongue brushes against yours. Your bodies take on a life of their own. Little by little, the main setting stopped being the hotel hallway and became your room. The door gets closed with a gentle push from his feet, while the chosen path is towards your bed.

His hands moves up from your waist to grab your blouse and take it off from your warm body. When you lay on the mattress, supporting on your elbows, itʼs the cue the man needeed to messily pull down your shorts.

— ¿Quieres ponerte de rodillas? (Do you want to be on your knees?) — he asks, as he unbuttons his own blouse. The sharp look he gives you, bathed in desire, delirious. On his lips, you notice the smudged red of your lipstick. — Correrme en tu boca... (Cum in your mouth...)

Maybe itʼs your mind lost in urgency, because you donʼt process what was said to you. You keep your eyes still, your mouth half-open, taking in air, panting. So pathetic that all he does is laugh at your face, running his hands through his hair instead of going straight to the belt of his shorts.

— ¿Qué? ¿No lo comprendes, no? (What? you don't understand it, do you?) — the tone used with you bordered mockery. And contrary to what you would normally feel like, it gives room to a sick feeling, butterflies in your stomach, you feel even more horny, stimulated. He leans in close. — Mira. (Look)

And as if you were learning something for the first time, you imitate him when he parts his lips. You let the man's thumb drag over your lower lip, and then his middle and index fingers together slide over your tongue, until they occupy your mouth. “Así” (like that), he pushes and retreats with his hand, in a slow, sensual movement, “Metértelo en la boca.” (Put it in your mouth)

Ah, now you understand him well. Your face burns, the wet way the fingers come out of your mouth, a little strand of saliva kept resisting in the distance, itʼs wanton. You nod, kneeling on the wooden floor, eyes glued to him unbuckling his belt until you could have his erection in full view.

You part your lips once again, as you were ‘taught’. He fills your mouth, up to a point where your nose touches his crotch, and comes back, completely wet. It allows the Uruguayan to control the pace, to catch the corner of your face. You raise your gaze to his, surrendered not only by the lasciviousness of what you were doing, but also by the beautiful view you had of his face from that angle.

Enzo uses the index finger of his free hand to run down the curve of your nose, affectionately.

— Qué ojitos más bonitos... (You have such beautiful little eyes) — he praises you, with a smile. At that moment, you could swear your heart felt like it exploded. — Eres tan bella, nena. Preciosa. (You are so beautiful, baby. Precious) — he sighs, his head falls back, then to a slide side angle. He looks at you in such a mischievous way that you avoid returning the look. — Me encantaría correrme en tu boca... pero prefiero guardarlo todo para dentro de ti. (I would love to cum into your mouth... but I prefer to keep it all inside you)

You get taken back to bed, easily manhandled by him when you silently gave up control of the situation. He comes over, dangerously close, unlocked the front fitting of your bra, getting lost between your breasts as soon as he releases them from the tightness of the piece. You hold onto his hair, restless under the delicious sucking of his tongue, the wild bite of his teeth. You gasp, having to move away from the black threads of his hair while his mouth travels down your belly.

He releases you from the last piece of underwear too, the wet kisses were loud and pornographic, crackling on your skin. The tip of his big nose rubs lightly over the area where he knew your sensitive clit was. His palm run through your wetness, the chill of the his silver ring sliding across your boiling skin.

He clicks two, three slaps in a row that makes you shudder, whimpering softly. Enzo smiles, he didn't need to, but he returned to that mocking tone from before, of someone who had to calmly spell out the commands so you could understand.

He brings his hand to your lips, gave a little tap on the top, de aquí, and then went all the way down again, leaving a wet trail until he gave your pussy another tap, a aquí. And itʼs these little details that makes everything even better. It makes you feel so dumb, foolish, but itʼs so strangely good...

When he puts himself inside you, you lock your legs around his waist, wrapping your arms around him, feeling him dominate everything in you. He, however, insists on eye contact, lifting his torso, resting his forearm against the mattress, to look you in the eye. He smiles, panting like you; moaning low, hoarse. At first, slow, but soon he surrendered to the speed, to the sharp sound of your moans with each stronger thrust.

And there where so many thrilling impulses, fuck it... You want to cover your mouth, close your eyes to try to contain yourself. Itʼs the nasty noise of your bodies in shock, his deep voice, the scent of his hot skin. Youʼre so sensitive that your eyes get wet, a little tear runs down your cheek.

— Oh, no... Perdón, perdóname, cariño. (Oh, no... I'm so sorry, honey) — he stops, his thumb wipes the tear from your face.

'En—', you even started to want to call his name, but the frustration of no longer receiving the same thrilling sensations and to the same extent was such that you only knew how whine; your mind melting, finally murmuring “Dale, dale, papi.” (Give it to me, please, daddy)

Enzo smiles again. He leaves a few kisses on your lips, repeating your words between the kisses, as if he was making fun of your desperation and also the term you used to refer to him.

— ¿Más rápido, hm? Más duro? (Faster, hm? Harder?) — he turns you over on the bed, putting you on all fours. The dirty talk makes you smile, dumb with lust already, clinging to one of the pillows. The Uruguayan's body lead over yours, bringing his mouth close to your ear. — Tranquila, nena. Te daré todo lo que quieras. ( Calm down, baby. I will give you everything you want.)

#imninahchan #enzo vogrincic #enzo vogrincic fanfic #enzo vogrincic x reader #enzo vogrincic smut #la sociedad de la nieve #the society of the snow #a sociedade da neve

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scuderiahoney · 3 months

Note

congrats on 1k!! u deserve it so so so much<3 could i ask for danny + "you drew stars around my scars" (cardigan by taylor swift) please:)

1k celebration! 💛 thank you so much! this one was so so sweet I love soft danny

You're laying in bed with Danny early one morning. Sunshine streams in through the curtains, cast over your bare skin and his, too. He stirs slightly, opens his eyes and smiles at you, blinking long lashes over his cheeks.

He runs his hand down your bare arm and over your side. His fingers dance along your ribs, brush over your hip. Your leg is tucked over his, and he follows the line of it with his hands and his eyes. You run your own fingers against his cheek, scraping on the stubble.

His breath catches in his chest, and his fingers stop their journey. You look where he’s looking, watch him press his thumb into the mark on your knee. His brows are furrowed. It’s a long line, spanning halfway across your kneecap. His finger traces back and forth over it, and he frowns.

“I fell when I was a teenager,” you explain. “Scraped it really bad.”

He pouts, like it’s still causing you pain. Then he holds his elbow up and out so you can see the soft, smooth skin of his inner arm. There’s a line running there, too, jagged and silvery pale against the rest of his skin.

“Crashed a dirt bike when I was 11,” he says. “Didn’t tell my mum for an hour cause I was scared she’d take the bike away.”

You laugh, reaching out to trace the scar. “Did she?”

“Yeah, of course,” he laughs. “But dad gave it back eventually.”

You grin. You can just imagine little Danny, begging for the bike back, arm still bandaged up. There’s something strange about it, about the scars. About physical reminders of the lives you’d led before you even knew the other existed. Nostalgia that runs deep in your bones, days where you’d dreamt of a person like him to share your life with.

You feel his fingers moving on your knee. He’s drawing shapes, patterns- you look down, watch him trace stars against your skin. Suddenly, your throat is tight. It’s utterly ridiculous. You shouldn’t feel this way over something like this. Over your boyfriend drawing stars around childhood scars. You reach out and do the same to his. A whole constellation around a long healed wound. Maybe that’s what the two of you have been doing for each other this whole time- not just the physical scars.

When Danny leans in and kisses you, morning breath and all, you can’t help but think maybe he’s feeling it, too.

#daniel ricciardo x you #daniel ricciardo blurb #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel Ricciardo fluff #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 fluff #formula 1 blurb #formula 1 x you #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 blurb #scuderiahoney 1k blurbs #scuderiahoney 1k!#dr3 #honeywrites #x reader

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totheblood · 1 year

Text

superposition. (three)

pairing: dealer!ellie x best friend!reader

summary: ellie gives you lesson number three (she's kinda bitter about it) and you get an A+ on your test!

warnings: 18+, SMUT,(thigh riding) cursing, alcohol/drug mention, suggestive themes... cheating if u squint... once again the ai audios are... just dont listen around others

read the previous part of this fic here!

a/n: this was challenging for some reason... please know i'd love feed back and all reblogs and replies and asks are welcomed and encouraged... thank you for 3k!

"i want you to want me."

You agreed to a second date with Malia.

Despite the fact that you felt something was missing from your first date, you still agreed to give her a second chance. It was a weak attempt to shove whatever you were feeling for your best friend down into the pits of your stomach, but you were failing miserably. While you sat next to her in the crowded bar, all you could think about was Ellie and how her hands traced down your stomach and thighs a week ago.

In fact, that was all you could think about the entire week and it was beginning to make you feel pathetic. Every time Ellie’s hand brushed over yours when you were walking together, or whenever she licked her lips after eating something sent your brain into a frenzy. Her mouth, her hands, her voice ran through your mind on a loop. You were unsure what ‘touch-starved’ meant but you were almost positive that it was what you were feeling right now.

Things had gone back to normal after that night, despite Ellie abruptly leaving your apartment after making you cum. She was just acting as if nothing had happened, not bringing it up again or even joking about it in the way you expected her to. In fact, when you brought up the fact that you were going on another date with Malia she smiled and told you to tell her how it goes.

It was toxic of you, but you had to admit that her lack of jealousy pissed you off. The Ellie that made quips about the date being too boring and offering to ‘take care of you’ was gone, and you were unsure of how to feel about it. She wasn’t cold, but she wasn’t your Ellie anymore. On movie night that Friday she even voted for the movie Dina picked, making your heart sink. She was pulling away from you and you had to do everything in your power to not freak the fuck out.

Halfway through the movie, you got up and began collecting your belongings, searching the couch for your phone.

“Where are you going?” Dina’s voice made you whip your head towards her, her eyes trained on you when they should’ve been trained on that stupid fucking movie her and Ellie wanted to watch.

“Uh- I’m going on a date,” you replied, turning back to the couch to find your phone and place it in your pocket. Instinctively your eye’s flicked towards Ellie, her eyes were stuck on the TV screen, intently watching the movie.

“Oh, with the same girl as before?” Dina perked up, shifting her whole body in the direction of you and startling awake Jesse who had fallen asleep leaned up against her.

“Yeah, Malia.” You gave her a smile, unsure if she could even see it in the dark room, the only light coming from the glow of the TV screen. “We’re getting drinks downtown.”

“Oh shit, you know how you get when you’re drunk,” Dina laughed to herself making Jesse groan, “You get all touchy-feely and shit. You’re for sure getting some tonight.”

This made Ellie turn to look at you, green eyes illuminated and lips pressed flat. Your heart jumped in your chest, excitement bubbling at the fact that she might still care. She looked you up and down before turning back to the movie, doing her best to ignore the conversation.

“I mean, I hope so,” you awkwardly laughed, stealing another quick glance at Ellie, “I think I may be ‘touch-starved’ or whatever that is.”

“Well, I wouldn’t mind being touched by Malia, that girl is hot,” Dina whispered, so Jesse wouldn’t hear, “I saw her on campus the other day and I was like ‘Dam-”

“Can you guys shut up? I’m trying to watch the movie.” Ellie chimed in, her tone sharp. Dina playfully pushed Ellie’s shoulder before rolling her eyes and mouthing a ‘sorry’ to you and gesturing for you to go.

“See you later, guys.” You half-whispered, making your way out the door. Ellie watched as you made your way to the door, eyes lingering for a minute after the door had shut behind you.

Ellie was doing her best to be nonchalant but was failing miserably. It took everything in her to pretend that she didn’t know what you felt like, what you sounded like moaning her name. All she wanted to do was pretend nothing had happened, force a smile on her face when you mentioned going on a second date, and ignore the pain in her jaw from clenching it too much. It was much easier said than done.

It wasn’t news to anyone that you brought out a volatile reaction in Ellie. Whenever you were mentioned by someone in a negative light she had to physically restrain herself from knocking their teeth out, failing on two occasions. Whenever you were mentioned in a positive light, Ellie had to stop herself from listing all of the things she liked about you or getting jealous at the idea that someone may take you away from her. She knew she didn’t own you, but a part of you belonged to her and she knew that.

Again, Ellie waited by her phone that night waiting for you to text her that your date was over and that you wanted her to come over. She wasn’t expecting you to, but she still hoped that you would.

The date with Malia went as smoothly as last time. The conversation was good, the drinks were even better, and when her hand rested at the side of your thigh and she asked you if you wanted to go back to her place, you happily obliged. All of it was fuzzy, her frantically unlocking her door with your lips nipping and sucking at her neck, her leading you to her bedroom with girly laughs filling the room, her pressing you down into her mattress, hands pulling at your waistband, and you pushing her off the bed.

You sat up with a gasp and hand clamped over your mouth as you looked over the edge of the bed to see her sitting on the floor.

“I’m so sorry!” You quickly scrambled to reach out a hand for her, helping her to get up. You assumed she would be pissed but all she did was laugh and accept your outstretched hand. Your face had worry written all over it, your brows wrinkled and eyes wide.

“It’s okay,” she let out a breathy laugh again, shaking her head as she sat next to you on the bed, “I’m assuming you’re just not ready?”

You took a good look at her watching the way her features all sat perfectly on her face. You were ready, and touch starved, so why couldn’t you do this with her?

“I don’t think I am,” you reluctantly replied, an apologetic look on your face, “I’m just not there yet, I’m new to all of this so I think we should take it slow.”

“Of course,” she reached a hand out to push your hair out of your face, “we don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

Suddenly, the room felt extremely small and you felt the need to get out of there. It wasn’t anything she had done but the realization that you had just pushed your date off her bed was beginning to set in. You stood up quickly, smoothing out your shirt and beginning to make your way out to her living room where you had thrown your bag.

“I should go,” your voice was rushed and frantic mimicking your movements. Malia was quick on your tail, trying to reassure you in her own rushed voice, but it all came out as static to you. You turned quickly on your heels to face her, your phone and bag in hand. “I’ll text you, okay?”

You gave her a kiss on the cheek before rushing out the front door and whipping out your phone to dial the only person you knew how to call these days. You rushed down the staircase and out onto the street, pressing her contact number scared she wouldn’t pick up. It only rang once before you heard her voice through the phone.

“Hey, you okay?” She asked frantically, knowing that if you were calling her and not texting, than something was wrong.

“Um, yeah, yeah-” You breathed out, voice shaky and unstable.

“What’s wrong, Petal?” From your phone, you could hear her already getting up and getting her things together to come and get you.

“Nothing, I’m fine,” you lied, “Can you just come pick me up? I’m just at Malia’s and I need to get out of here.”

There was silence on her end for a minute. “Uh, yeah. Just send me the address.”

After what felt like ages of you shaking your head and looking around for Ellie’s car, she pulled up, headlights flashing at you as she approached. You rushed to the door, pulled it open, and got in the passenger seat, avoiding eye contact with Ellie.

“Hey, you okay?” She asked again, her voice much softer this time. You turned to look at her with your arms crossed.

“I’m fine, Ellie. It just-” You took a deep breath avoiding her eyes once again. “Can you just drive?”

“My place or yours?”

“Yours.”

Ellie gave you a curt nod before turning up the radio and driving over to her apartment building. Once you got there and both made your way into her apartment, you were suddenly uncomfortable. You forgot that you had on makeup and a tight shirt and leather pants that you were definitely not going to sleep in.

“Uh, Ellie?” Your voice was small as you followed her into her room. It was much cleaner than it usually was and didn’t reek of weed like it usually did. It instead smelled like… “Did you light a candle or something?”

“Yeah, why?” She glanced up at you from her place at her dresser, searching through the drawers for something.

“No reason,” you looked around her room once again, “Just wondering why it smells so good in here.”

She gave you another quick glance and a small smirk, taking an oversized shirt of hers from the drawer and throwing it at you. “Yeah it’s Cactus Blossom. Got it on sale and Bath and Body Works.”

You opened up the shirt and looked at it, it was a ‘Nirvana’ t-shirt that you saw Ellie wear multiple times before.

“It’s to sleep in, by the way.” She joked, noticing you stare at the shirt.

“Yeah, thanks.”

When you came back from changing into Ellie’s shirt, she was in her own pajamas: a loose fitting t-shirt and oversized boxers. She looked up at you from her place on the bed, her eyes lingering on your bare legs for a moment. She pursed her lips and patted the spot next to her on the bed. Climbing back onto the bed, you sat crosslegged next to Ellie, your hands securely in your lap. Ellie put her phone down to look at you, her eyes catching on your neck.

“Is that a hickey?” She reached up, finger brushing over the purple bruise on your neck. For a moment, you watched her face fall, but she quickly regained herself as she pulled her hand away.

“Oh shit, I didn’t even realiz-” You were cut off by the sound of Ellie using your name, something she only did when she was serious or mad at you. “What?”

“Did you sleep with her? Is that why yo-”

“What? Ellie, no.” You reassured her, not understanding why there was a need to in the first place.

“So then what happened? Why are you here and not with her?” Ellie’s voice was low and carried a hint of worry with it. Your eyes bore into hers, searching for an answer she wasn’t going to give you verbally.

“She just-” You dramatically sighed, looking down at your hands then back up at her. “We were going to. Like, she was on top of me and was kissing me, and it did feel good, I’m not going to lie, but then she started to try to remove my pants and I just-”

Ellie’s face was cold, her teeth clenched and her arms crossed in front of her body. She knew she was showing herself but couldn’t stop herself. “You just what?”

“I pushed her off the bed.” You admitted, covering your face in your hands and letting out an embarrassed laugh. Not to your surprise, Ellie was laughing too, a big hearty laugh that came from her chest. If you weren’t so embarrassed you would be basking in the sound, your heart leaping out of your chest and into hers. Instead, your face remained hidden by your hands as you shook your head.

“Hey, Petal,” Ellie managed to get out in between laughs, reaching for your wrist and pulling them from your face, “Let me see that face.”

You dramatically pouted, causing her cheeks to redden and grow with the grin she was giving you. “Nothing to be embarrassed about, alright? Hey, if I was dating someone that boring I would push her off me too.”

Ellie watched as the smile came back to her face and you playfully rolled your eyes.

“She’s not boring.” You reminded her.

“And you’re back.” Ellie teased, rubbing the inside of your wrists with her palm.

“Maybe I need another lesson,” You whispered, eyes not leaving hers, “Maybe I’m just not good enough yet.” Something dark flashed over her eyes before she gently tugged your wrists towards her, causing you to lean over on your knees, ass in the air.

“Are you sure you need another lesson?” She whispered, bringing her face close to yours. “Or do you just want me to be the one to fuck you?”

Your tongue caught in your throat, mouth going dry as you looked down at her lips.

“Just a lesson, Ellie.” You gulped. “I’m dating her.”

“Yeah, but you’re fucking me.” She leaned forward and pressed a kiss at the side of your lips, causing your eyelids to flutter shut and for you to hum. “Just admit what we both already know. I’m the only one you can get wet for.”

“Yeah, but that could change. You’re my frie-” She cut you off by releasing your hands from her grasp, causing you to fall forward into her. In one swift motion, her hands caught your face, bringing you up to her lips to kiss you. It was messy, teeth clashing and tongues fighting for dominance. Her knee came up in between your legs, pushing you forward, causing a groan to fall from your lips into Ellie’s.

She sucked on your bottom lip, one hand leaving your face to pull you on top of her by your waist. You sat with your legs on both sides of Ellie’s thigh, humming when her lips made their way to your neck. Carefully, she sucked over the purple mark left by Malia in an attempt to cover it up with her own. Your hand grabbed onto the back of her hand shoving her into the crook of your neck, letting a “Fuck, Ellie,” fall straight from your lips.

Pulling back from you she examined her work, content with the dark and larger bruising caused by her. Her eyes traveled back to your face, smiling at your swollen bottom lip and sweat beading on your forehead. Her chest was rising and falling dramatically, mirroring yours.

“I’ll give you another lesson,” she panted, lifting the thigh you were sitting on, causing you to stifle back a moan. “Oh, fuck..I’ll teach you how to ride. How to fuck yourself against my leg. That sound okay?”

“Mhm,” you responded, eyes glassy and anticipation stirring inside you. Both of her hands were placed at your waist firmly as she slowly moved you forward.

“What you have to do is,” She began, looking down to where you sat down on her. In the heat of the moment, neither of you had realized that you were dripping onto the skin of her thigh, straight through your panties. “Fuck, is this from that alone?”

When you nodded, Ellie blushed leaning forward to press a kiss on your cheek, hands still on your waist. “You really are touch starved, Petal.” She pressed another kiss on your neck, making you whimper and her grip tighten.

“You just have to rock your hips back and forth,” Her hands fell down to your waist, guiding you to rock back and forth against her. “Slowly, okay?” Nodding, you began rocking back and forth, eyes closing as you whimpered each time your clothed cunt made contact with her thigh.

“I think you could cum off of this alone.” She cooed continuing to guide your hips and giving you a gentle kiss on your jaw each time you made a noise. She was conditioning you to moan for her. “Don’t you think so?” Another kiss, another moan, another kiss.

“You can pick up the pace now, Petal.” You quickened your movements, rocking back and forth at a faster pace. Ellie brought her thigh up and pushed your hips down with her hands. She was pressing you into her, causing you to throw your head back and let out a volatile moan. She used one of her hands to catch the back of your head and pull you close to her.

Your movements began to get more jagged as you felt the familiar feeling in your stomach rise again. Her breath was shaky, her own cunt dripping at the sight of you. Your knee had begun to press into her through her clothes, causing her to let out her own moan. From the sound alone you were about to come.

“Come with me, come with me, fuck,” Her breath was jagged and breathy, but her grip on you never wavered. “Come with me, baby, fuck.”

That was all it took for you before you were screaming her name and collapsing into her, her own moan coming out much quieter than yours, and in short breaths. Your hands rested on her shoulder, as your head hung low and you crawled off of her. With deep breaths, you leaned back against the headboard, almost ashamed to look at her.

“Was that okay?” Your voice was small, unsure of itself.

“Yeah, yeah, that was uhm-” She turned to look at you and gave you an exhausted smile. “That was good. You did good. A+ for you.” You both let out exhausted laughs.

After she got you cleaned up, and you didn’t mention the fact that you were going on another date with Malia, you both fell asleep silently in her bed. Again, she pretended it hadn’t happened and turned off the side table lamp as she watched you pretend to sleep.

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