#nsfr

[freedomfireflies]

Teenage Dirtbag*

Summary: The one where Harry's popular, cool, and everything you aren't. And maybe you want to keep him your dirty, little secret.

Word Count: 5.5k

Content Warning: 18+, smut, gag, exhibitionism if you squint, fratrry, not suitable for Ramadan!

“Okay, next question. What is the Albedo Effect?”

“27.”

“Harry, come on.”

“What?”

“I need an answer.”

“That is an answer. Maybe not to this question, but it’s an answer to some question.”

Your expression falls flat as you toss a piece of popcorn at him. “H, seriously.”

“What?”

“We’re supposed to be studying.”

“We are.”

“No, actually studying.” You toss another piece at him, which he catches in his mouth. “Harry—"

“The Albedo Effect is the reflectivity of the Earth’s surface,” he finally says before grinning smugly. “There. Happy?” 

“Mm.”

“Since I got it right, do I win a kiss?”

“No. You win another question,” you say before switching to the next notecard. “Okay, what is the average temperature of the Earth’s surface?”

“27.”

“Harry.”

He laughs before he’s reaching across the bed to grab the stack of notebooks, cards, and books all over your lap. Effortlessly discarding of them while leaning toward you to ghost his lips over yours. “59 degrees Fahrenheit.”

Your lashes flutter. You want to argue. Want to fight him and demand your things back. But it’s hard when he’s this close. “Um…right.”

He smiles, mouth dangerously tempting as it dances along the curve of your jaw. “Give me another.”

“I…” You swallow. “I can’t. You stole my cards.”

“Oh, did I? Oops.”

“You’re mean.”

“Yeah. But you like me.”

“Not right now.”

“Yes now. Always.”

You huff. “I’m not…I’m not kissing you until we finish studying—”

“Well, I’m not studying until you kiss me.”

“Harry—”

“What, angel?”

You fist his shirt. You mean to push him away and yet somehow, he ends up even closer. “I didn’t invite you over for this.”

“I know.” He smirks again. “This is just a bonus.”

“We agreed to study.”

“We are.”

“Jessica’s gonna be back soon—”

“So?”

“So, you know you can’t be here when she gets here,” you remind him, finally finding the strength to shove him back. “Come on, a few more questions and then we can take a break.”

“You said that a few questions ago,” he argues.

You grab the cards. “Oops.”

Fifteen minutes go by before you finally reach the end of your notes, earning a loud sigh from your study buddy as he flops onto his back in defeat. 

“That was awful,” he declares. His head rolls until his eyes find yours. A soft green beneath those long lashes. “You take way too many notes.”

“I like to be prepared,” you pout as you stand and put them back on your desk. “You don’t take nearly enough.”

“Because I have you.”

“Yeah, well…that’s cheating.”

“It’s not cheating if I’m helping you use them.”

You turn around and place your hands on your hips. “You’re annoying, you know that?”

“Yeah.” He sits up and reaches for you. Easily tugging you between his legs as you try—futilely—not to fall for that gorgeous grin. “And yet you keep me around.”

“Mm…for now.”

“For now, huh?” His large hands slip beneath the hem of your shirt and you do nothing to stop him. “You just use me for my cock, is that it? Cause I’m a good fuck?”

Your skin grows warm as you look away. “Stop it, don’t say it like that.”

“What? M’I embarrassing you, pretty girl?” he whispers. He squeezes your sides, palms soft against your stomach. “Which part did it? Cock or fuck?”

You close your eyes and groan. “Harry—”

“What? They’re just words, baby.”

“Yeah, but they’re dirty words.”

He’s grinning again. Arrogant and far too smug. “I’ve seen this pretty mouth do far dirtier things—”

You bury your face in your hands to hide. “Please don’t remind me—”

“Why not? Hm? You don’t wanna remember the way you took me down your throat like a good girl?” He lifts your shirt and presses a gentle kiss just below your belly button. “Or what about the way you scratched your nails down my back as you came? Crying my name until your voice went raw?”

“Harry…”

“What about when I fingered you under the table?” he murmurs, then moves his kisses up your torso. One after the other. Slow. “And you had to bite your cute, little lip to keep from moaning?”

You start to squirm. “H…H, please—”

“What about the time I bent you over that desk—” He nods his chin toward the table in the corner of your dorm room. “—and made you cum so hard, you squirted.”

You make another noise and melt into his touch. They’re good memories, you know that. But they do unspeakable things to your anxiety. Just the thought of what someone might say…the idea of what the two of you have done. You weren’t raised to think or feel so freely and Harry is a master at making you nervous.

You’ve done more with him than you ever have anyone else. More than you imagined you’d ever do. And even if you wouldn’t trade it for the world, you can’t say you really welcome the reminder.

His kisses reach your chest. Naked and bare and begging to be touched. “You can be dirty, too, pretty girl.” 

Your hand finds his hair. Fingers sweeping through his soft curls that are normally restrained by some sort of beanie or bandana. “H…”

He hums. He knows he’s embarrassing you. But you suppose that’s why he does it. 

The small room falls silent, save for the gentle sounds of his kisses as they move toward your breast. His tongue is dangerously close and you know if he gets his way, you’ll never get anything else done.

However, just before those pretty pink lips can make contact, you hear the sound of your roommate’s voice down the hall. Loud enough to startle you and pull you out from between his legs.

Quickly, you’re tugging your shirt back down and grabbing his hand to lead him to the window. Nearly shoving him out onto the fire escape before he’s even had a chance to catch his breath.

“Go,” you whisper as you toss his flannel at him. “Hurry.”

“You know, as much as I like being your dirty little secret, you know she’s gonna find out eventually,” he says while dipping beneath the window frame until he’s completely out of the room.

“I know. But today is not that day.”

Once you’re sure she won’t see him, you get ready to close the curtains. But you’re stopped by his large hand slipping around the back of your neck as he yanks your mouths together. Finally getting the kiss he so desperately wanted.

“You’re still coming to the party this Friday, yeah?” he murmurs against your lips.

You kiss him back just once before you’re shoving at him again. “We’ll see,” you call.

He winks.

With that, the window slams shut, and he disappears into the darkness. Right as Jessica slips inside the room and begins to tell you about her incredibly long day.

And every trace of Harry has gone.

“Ten minutes. Just ten minutes. And if we hate it, we can leave.”

“All right, fine,” you agree, begrudgingly following your friend into the large, familiar house that sits a few miles outside of campus. “Ten. But if I get a single drink spilled on me…I’m out.”

“Deal.”

You laugh as Jess throws her arm around your shoulders to lead you inside, shoving past the group of college students already gathering in the living room.

Every inch of the house is packed full of people. The music is loud, the smell of weed is strong, and a lively game of cup pong is being had down the hall. Truth be told, this scene always tends to catch you off guard. No, this isn’t your first party. But you were raised in a world and in a home where drugs and alcohol were never present. 

You don’t mind being around them or watching people participate, but the concept is still rather foreign to you. Even if Harry’s presence in your life is beginning to change that.

Speaking of, you can’t help but search for him as Jessica drags you from room to room. You imagine he’s around somewhere. After all, this is his frat house, and you’ve never known him to miss a party.

But with the football game happening tomorrow night, you wonder if he’ll be out practicing or if he’ll be here with his teammates, pre-gaming.

You catch a glimpse of his red, backwards baseball cap as you’re leaving the kitchen. He’s across the house, clad in a black, graphic t-shirt and skinny jeans, leaning against the wall as he talks to one of his friends.

He’s nodding along to something they’re saying, taking slow sips of whatever’s in his solo cup while lazily looking around.

And that’s when he finds you.

Even with all these people, you feel like the only two in the room. And you catch the way he smiles. A soft, secret smirk meant just for you. And a gleam in his eye as he takes another sip and returns to his conversation.

He’s glad you’re here and honestly, you think you are, too.

“Oh, Zack, there you are!” Jessica suddenly exclaims before she’s yanking you toward one of the guys on Harry’s team. “Zack, this is the friend I was telling you about.”

A bit confused, you and Zack exchange a nod as your roommate begins the excited introductions.

“This is the guy I wanted to set you up with,” she whispers under her breath before straightening up. “So, uh, Zack! You’re single, right?”

Even more surprised, Zack blinks as his attention drifts to you. He hesitates, and for just a moment, you wonder if he recognizes you.

This isn’t the first time you’ve been in this house. And it’s not the first time you’ve met Zack. However, you and Harry have been rather diligent about keeping your visits a secret, even from the other boys that live here.

Still, Zack almost caught you once when you were forced to hide in the shower as he brushed his teeth. And even though he didn’t seem to notice, Harry mentioned that he did see the earrings you accidentally left behind. The same earrings he proceeded to tease Harry about for the next week.

And the same earrings you’re wearing now.

But, if he’s begun to put two and two together, he doesn’t mention it. Instead, he shakes his head. “Nah, not really. I’m kind of seeing Annie. I guess.”

You smirk. “You guess?”

“I mean, we’re fucking,” he argues. “But, like…I wouldn’t say we’re together. But she would. I don’t know. But she’d be fucking pissed if I went out with someone else.”

To your surprise, Zack seems to be covering for you. Because you happen to know Annie is actually seeing Derek. She and Zack never got past the drunk-fuck phase, but it seems Jessica doesn’t realize the lie being told. That, or she’s lost interest.

“Oh, boo,” she pouts before turning to you. “Well, I tried. Sorry, babe.”

You laugh. “More than all right. I’m…I’m gonna go use the bathroom and maybe look for some water. I’ll meet you here in a bit?”

“Yes! Text me! Or call me. Or…just yell my name really loud,” she says, already slipping into the next room. “Whenever you wanna go, we will, okay? Seriously.”

“Got it,” you call. And with that, the two of you split. Leaving you to look for the only man you really care to see.

He’s no longer talking to his friend and doesn’t seem to be in the lower part of the house. So, you make your way to the next floor. Shoving past couples making out on the staircase and groups doing blow in the bathroom.

He might be in his room, although that’s perhaps a little too obvious. You still aren’t ready for people to know that the two of you are…well, whatever you two are. And you can’t imagine he is, either. Not considering his reputation and the other girls he’s been with before. 

Compared to them, you’re just…you.

Swallowing your own disappointment, you continue down the hall in search of him when a large hand suddenly wraps around your upper arm and yanks you into a bedroom.

You aren’t surprised that it’s him. You aren’t even surprised that he’s brought you back to his room. You are, however, rather confused by the giddy grin on his face.

“You came,” he whispers before he’s shoving you against the closed door and kissing you hard. “Been waiting all fucking night to see you.”

You’re breathless. You always are when you’re with him, but this…now. His kiss, his touch, his voice. The sultry way he speaks that goes straight to the place between your thighs.

“Missed you,” he says. He sucks on the spot below your ear. “God, I really fucking missed you, angel. You have no idea.”

“You saw me this morning,” you remind him. “And for lunch in your car.”

“S’too long,” he argues. “You don’t know what you do to me, baby.”

You grin. Even if you know he’s merely being cute, you can’t help but believe him. “Yeah, okay.”

“I mean it. Besides, you think I wanna watch Zack fucking hit on you all goddamn night?”

You lean back. “You saw?”

“Course I fucking saw. Could hear that shit-eating grin from outside,” he huffs before he’s kissing you again, as if to prove a point. Either to you or to himself. “But he wouldn’t if you’d just let me take you on a proper date.”

“H…”

“Yeah, I know.” His kisses get softer. “I know, I’m sorry.”

“No, I…I get it,” you sigh against his cheek. “I just…it’s hard—”

He takes your face between his hands and makes you look at him. “I know, angel. M’not pushing, I promise. I’ll do whatever you want me to.” 

You squeeze his wrists and smile. You sometimes find yourself surprised by how willing he is to be seen with you. You aren’t sure why, but you always assumed he’d be ashamed. That he’d be the one to want to hide. To lock you away and keep your rendezvous a secret. 

And maybe you like it this way because you’re afraid. Because you’re worried that once he sees how odd the two of you look together, he won’t want you anymore. That the relentless teasing and comparisons will drive him to end things.

And you’ll be devastated.

Perhaps sensing where your mind has gone, Harry resumes his work on your throat, efficiently distracting you. You happily relinquish your overthinking to him and his intentions, and it feels good. You used to be scared of being touched, of being loved. But it’s becoming easier with him. A routine you wouldn’t trade for the world.

He begins to pull you toward his bed. It’s made for once, which you have to admit impresses you. Harry doesn’t tend to devote his time to things he doesn’t think matter. Like cleaning his space, taking notes, or worrying about his classes. Somehow, he manages to pass every semester, keeping his spot on the football team, while you struggle to keep up even with all the time in the world.

Half the time you suggest studying together, it’s because you’d actually like his help.

“Wait…wait, Har,” you murmur as he sits onto the mattress and begins to pull you in a straddle over his thighs. “Wait, not…not when you’ve been drinking—”

“Haven’t,” he exhales against your mouth. “S’just Sprite. Coach doesn’t let us drink before a game.”

Almost relieved, you lift a brow. “But he doesn’t mind a wild party?”

He smirks. “Technically, we’re not supposed to do that either. But…I kind of live here, so…”

“Ah.” You dip down and press your lips to his softly. “Then I guess you just don’t have a choice, huh?”

“Nope.” He moves his hands to your waist, subtly grinding your body over his until you both groan. “Besides. I’d much rather be here with you than down there with them.”

“Mm. That’s the right answer,” you tease as he laughs and slips his fingers under your dress. 

You know this dance by now. You even enjoy it when Harry’s at the lead. He knows what he’s doing, even if you don’t. And he knows just how to teach you. Show you. Guide you. 

You take a deep breath and let yourself submit. Let his hands roam, his thighs flex. Let his mouth travel down your neck and to the curve of your shoulder. He slips the strap down until he has more room and then he moves for your chest. Hungry kisses meant to devour you.

“My pretty girl,” he whispers, tongue licking a stripe along the top of your breast. “Wore this just to torture me, didn’t you?”

Your lashes flutter. “Thought…thought it would be easier.”

“Easier?” He glances up, smirk devious. “You wanted me to have easy access to your pretty pussy?”

The vulgar language brings a fervent heat right to your face. You glance away out of habit, but he doesn’t let you this time. Instead, he pinches your chin tight between his fingers and forces your attention back.

“Is that right, angel?” he asks again, firm.

You swallow. “…yes.”

“Mm. Good girl,” he mumbles before moving his hand to your tit. Squeezing it gently while wrapping his lips over your nipple. “Or maybe you’re my naughty girl tonight. Yeah? Wearing something so sinful. Just for me.”

You nod quickly as your nails scratch down his scalp. “Just for you.”

“Mhm. Not Zack.”

“No. No, not Zack.”

He simpers at the sound of your breathless whines. Enjoying the way your hips roll against his. The way your naked thighs feel against his clothed ones. “Gonna let me take care of you, baby? Let me have a little taste?”

Your stomach flips. Harry has introduced you to a world of pleasure you never knew possible, but you still can’t deny that it makes you feel vulnerable. The way your body is put on display for him. Accessible to his tongue, his hands, his…

You close your eyes and force a nod. You just won’t think about it. You’ll let him have his taste and then he’ll start. You understand the science behind it. Your body needs to be properly lubricated before he can begin. And it’s not exactly a step you care to skip, even if it does make you nervous.

He grins at your reaction before he’s leaning back onto the bed and dragging you up toward his face, that bright red hat falling off in the process.

He’s mentioned this position before. Apparently, it’s his favorite, but it certainly isn’t one you’re used to. You don’t understand the mechanics. How you’re meant to surrender control but also keep from crushing his pretty face beneath your weight.

“Angel,” he calls, pulling you back. “What did I say last time, hm?”

“I…I know, I just…” You chew on the inside of your cheek. “I don’t want to hurt you—”

“You won’t,” he promises yet again. “You can’t. I know what I’m doing, yeah? Trust me. Just let me do this, I’ve got you.”

And you know that he does. So, surrendering your inhibitions, you let him place you just where he wants before he nods at you to pull your underwear to the side.

You do. Fingers shaking as you drag the damp fabric away and present yourself to his tongue. You want to look away. Want to hide from the growing look of hunger in his eyes, but he’s already sucking on you before you can.

And once he starts…things don’t seem so bad.

His tongue is magic. His lips are divine. Even his hands are wonderful with the way they hold you still. 

You think you could spend a lifetime against his mouth. Live here, die here. Do anything and be anything he wanted so long as he never stopped.

“Doing so good for me, pretty girl,” he says after a moment, and you almost miss it over the faint thumping of music outside his room. “You okay?”

You nod, fingers back between his curls as you brace yourself. “Yes…yes, I’m…I’m all right. Am I…am I too—”

“No,” he says simply. “No, you’re perfect. Don’t move. M’having so much fun.”

And you don’t doubt that he is. His eyes are closed and he’s feasting on you like he’s been starved his whole life. His entire face is between your folds, licking, sucking, nipping. Wet sounds that are somehow louder than the noise outside. 

You can’t help the way you groan. The way you say his name and shake in his hands. It’s too much and you’re still unsure how to handle so much ecstasy.

But he knows. And he keeps you planted on his tongue until you’ve nearly soaked his entire face. And then…he stops. Seconds before you can find that sweet release and you gasp as he pops off and scoots you back.

“What…what did I do?” you pant.

He laughs while he sits up, cupping your cheek in his palm before pulling you forward for a kiss. “Nothing,” he whispers, and the taste of you on his lips makes your insides twist. “I told you, you’re perfect. I just have something else in mind.”

“Oh.” Your fingers twist together. “Do you…do you want me to…?”

He smiles again then shakes his head. “Not this time, pretty girl. You know I don’t always expect that, right? I don’t eat you out just so you’ll suck me off.”

“I…I know.”

“Good. I eat you out because I fucking love it.” Another kiss. “And not just to get you wet.”

You feel your features scrunch, the urge to hide much stronger. “I know.”

“And I don’t want you to forget. I love watching you take me down your throat, but only when and if you want to. Tonight, I thought we could maybe try something we haven’t yet.”

“Oh…”

His eyes settle on yours. “I want you to ride me.”

Your lips part. “You…oh.”

“We’ve talked about that before, yeah?” He sweeps his thumb across your cheek. “About if you think you’d be comfortable?”

“Yeah, we…yeah. I…I don’t mind. I just…I don’t know…”

“I know,” he murmurs. “But I’ll show you, hm? We can just try it and see how you feel. And if you don’t like it, we can do something else.”

It’s a good plan. A solid plan, and even if you’re unsure, you can’t help but feel excited. “Okay.”

“Okay,” he repeats happily before scooting back toward the headboard. “All right, can you take me out, angel?”

Eagerly, you agree, crawling after him until your fingers find his jeans. Seeing such a massive dick always tends to surprise you, but you find that you feel more confident now than you did before. He’s beautiful, every inch of him. And he seems to love the way you touch him. The way you look at him, admire him.

And that’s your favorite part.

“Good girl,” he coos as you reach inside his boxers to wrap your palm around him. “Not so shy anymore, hm?”

You shake your head, lip between your teeth as you release him from his pants. 

He laughs. “I can see that. Can you give me your hand, pretty girl?”

You oblige and he pulls your palm to his mouth before he’s spitting directly in the center. A large wad that sits snugly in your hand before he drops it back down to his cock and nods at you to continue.

You drag the wet substance up and down his rather impressive length until he’s glistening. He’s already quite hard, but your delicate strokes seem to get him the rest of the way. Until he’s standing straight up and nearly leaking. 

“Good,” he says again, a tad breathless. “So fucking good at that, you know?”

You smile. “Practice makes perfect.”

“Mhm.” He chuckles. “Then can you show me how good you are at putting me in?”

You nod fervently. The academic overachiever in you is always anxious to prove yourself to him. To show that you’ve learned, you’ve improved. That you’re worthy of his time and his body. 

You use one hand to guide him and the other to keep your panties to the side. He, in turn, makes sure to lift your dress high enough that you can both see and the moment his tip makes contact with your throbbing clit, you whimper.

“Shh,” he murmurs. “You’re all right. Go ahead and tap it a couple times, yeah?”

Forcing your pulse to steady, you do. The heavy appendage seems to taunt you as you pat it against your pussy and the sensitive nerves that make your legs shake. But it feels like heaven and even Harry has to take in a labored breath as he watches.

The two of you rarely use condoms these days. You did when you first started, but after getting tested and being assured that you were the only person he was sleeping with, you decided to try just once without.

And you know the risks. Know it’s rather idiotic to tempt fate the way you do. The pill isn’t a guarantee, and you know neither one of you are ready to be parents.

But after feeling him…feeling all of him…you became addicted. Despite your better judgement, you found yourself eager to feel him again. And again. And again. 

And now, well…now you don’t think you can go without.

“There you go,” he sighs. “Just like that. S’it feel good?”

“Mm…mhm.”

“Good. Go on, baby, put me in now.”

With his help, you lift up and guide his large head toward your hole. Slowly pushing it in while dropping yourself down.

“Fuck,” he exhales through a groan. “Shit, just like that. You okay? S’it hurt?”

You shake your head. You don’t have the strength to speak.

“Okay. Keep going.”

You do. A steady pace that seems to torture you both until the whines and cries slip out before you can stop them. 

“Goddamn, angel,” he grits. “Shit, you feel so fucking good. You still all right? Know what to say if you’re not?”

“Ye—yeah.”

“Attagirl. Okay, baby, I want you to lift up now, yeah? Nice and slow.”

Doing your best not to tremble, you raise back up and feel the way his thick cock seems to stretch you open. The way it travels through your body, making you feel empty without it. 

And once you’re near the tip, he pulls you back down, and you start again. 

The speed is tediously languid. It almost hurts and the noises tumble from your lips one after the other without pause.

Your thighs burn. Your core burns. Every inch of you seems to be screaming, yet Harry doesn’t break a sweat.

“Doing so good,” he praises again. He pulls at your jaw until you kiss him. “Know it’s hard, but you look so good riding my cock right now.”

You only mewl. Loud and incoherent. 

He releases your cheek to reach for something on the nightstand beside him. Something you don’t see through your hazed vision until he begins to unwrap it and bring it to your mouth.

His bandana.

It’s his favorite one, too. The white one, with little back details on it. But you aren’t exactly sure what he expects you to do with it now…until he smirks.

“M’gonna put this in your mouth,” he says before resting it on your lips. “Gotta keep you quiet since I didn’t lock the door. Don’t want anyone to hear you and come lookin’, hm?”

Your eyes widen as you gape at him. “Harry—”

“Sorry. S’just too distracted.” He grins. “Open up, pretty girl.”

Rather excitedly, you obey. Giving him just enough room to slip the fabric between your teeth until you can clamp down and he can fasten it in a knot against the back of your head.

“There you go,” he declares when he’s through. “Now you can be as loud as you want, yeah?”

You nod.

“Mm.” He dips down to start kissing at your chest. “Can you keep going, baby? Or do you need me to take over?”

Your lashes flutter.

“I know,” he coos when he sees the fucked-out expression on your face. “S’hard, isn’t it? My angel’s getting tired, huh?”

Another nod, slower.

“Okay,” he chuckles. He grabs onto your hips and straightens up. “Okay, I’ll fuck you.”

Just like that, he resumes the pace you set. Using every muscle in his thighs and abdomen to fuck his cock up into you and leave you a wilting, blubbering mess.

The poor bandana becomes soaked as he pounds into you. Faster and faster while your body shakes and drool pools at the sides of your mouth. 

Your whimpers sound shuddered now. In tune with his fast thrusts and the wet, lewd cacophony of your bodies connecting. Pornographic in nature yet somehow…euphoric. 

He sucks your tit back into his mouth and you clutch onto his scalp. Nails scratching at his neck, shoulders, and chest until you feel your orgasm coming up on you once more. 

And he feels it, too. Features twisting at the way you clench around him. The way your body draws him in, treats him right. He’s obsessed and he’s told you as much. Even with the level of stamina he possesses, he can never seem to last all that long when it comes to you.

“Fucking hell,” he groans before he’s tightening his hold on your waist. “Shit, s’it feel good? Like being on top, angel?”

You nod and press your forehead to his. Even if it’s rather exhausting, you can feel him in places you couldn’t before. Nudging against your g-spot until you see stars and have to physically fight the urge to cum. 

“No, don’t,” he pants, seeming to sense it. “Want you to cum. Right now, baby. Okay? Let me feel you first.”

Even if you wanted to argue, you can’t. The low, graveled instruction goes straight to your cunt and you cum before you can stop yourself. Drenching his cock, his thighs, your thighs. You sway, go limp in his hold. Until you’re slumping against his chest as he fucks you through every second of it.

“There,” he praises, large hand rubbing up and down your back. “God, you’re fucking good at that. Love the way you cum for me. S’fucking heaven.”

You know he’s close. And you know he won’t finish inside you, instead wasting his offering on his stomach or somewhere else.

So, you get an idea. You pull off him as best you can while he hisses and resists the temptation to release inside you before you slip the bandana back out and crawl down his lap.

Then, you take him in your mouth. It only takes two sucks before he’s grabbing at your neck and finishing down your throat. The warm, sticky substance familiar and far too thrilling. 

He cums and he cums until you’ve nearly sucked him dry and his tired body melts into the bed.

He whispers your name and fights to keep his eyes open so he can gaze at you. Then, he tugs on you. “Come here.”

He kisses you. Tongue and teeth clashing in a messy exchange, but he doesn’t mind. He loves it. Moans into your mouth and pulls you against his heart until you can both catch your breath.

You revel in the post-orgasm glow. Body’s abuzz and slightly sweaty from the workout. But you wouldn’t trade this ache in your joints for anything. 

And you realize you wouldn’t trade him, either. 

“You okay?” he murmurs after a moment.

You hum. “Yeah. M’tired.”

“Yeah,” he echoes with a gentle laugh. “It was fun, though, right?”

“Mhm. Very.”

“Think you’ll wanna do it again?”

“Maybe,” you admit. “As long as you do all the work again.”

His laugh is louder this time. “Deal. Or maybe we’ll just have to work out your muscles until you can do it all on your own.”

“Mm…unlikely.”

“But maybe.”

“Maybe not.”

“Doesn’t hurt to try.”

“Might hurt.”

“Yeah. Okay.” He smiles. “Can you stay tonight?”

“I don’t know. Jess might be looking for me.”

“Tell her you’re staying.”

“I can’t.”

“You don’t have to tell her who you’re with.”

“H,” you sigh. “She thinks I’m a virgin prude. If she knows I’m staying, she won’t let it go until she finds out who I stayed with.”

The room falls silent. You feel him sigh. “Yeah, I know.”

You glance up. “I’ll tell her one of these days, I promise. I just…I wanna keep you to myself. Just a little longer.”

His grin splits his face. “Good. Think I might wanna keep you, too.”

He kisses you again. Soft, slow, sensual. Filled with all the words neither of you are brave enough to say out loud. And long enough to leave you breathless.

Until the door opens.

And Zack walks in.

God I love fratrry 😭💞

Taglist: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @keepdrivingkisses @swiftmendeshoran @tiredinwinter @straightontilmornin @justlemmeadoreyou @harrysdaydreams @tiaamberxx @myfavfanficsever @littlenatilda @vamprry @fdl305 @tchalametishot @ssaama @indierockgirrl @likeapplejuicenpeach @lukesaprince @closureesny @lc-fics @0nlythrowharrybeaux @hannahdressedasabanana @dylanobandposts21 @butdaddyilovehim-hs @floral-recs @itjustkindahappenedreally @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @laelamarley @myalovesharry

#harry #harry styles #harry edward styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles imagine #harry styles x you #harry styles blurb #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fan #harry styles smut #harry styles request #harry styles concept #smut #concept #soft dom!harry #harry and angel #fratrry #frat!harry #quarterback!harry #college!harry #nsfr

[megumisgirl]

making out with them as the kiss gets more rough, more fast. tugging and pulling each other more and more even though there is barely any space left. panting in each other's mouth, as you grind on their kness, your movements getting ragged and unsteady as his hands grip your waist tightly.

"stay still other wise we might have a problem."

— 𖦹. megumi, eren, gojo, jean, daisuke, geto, kageyama (i can also see a few book boyfriends doing it... maybe cardan, dante russo?? )

#𖦹. artemis talks #megumi smut #jjk smut #smut promt #gojo smut #eren smut #jean smut #aot imagines #aot smut #geto smut #daisuke kambe #daisuke smut #kageyama smut #haikyuu smut #book boyfriend #cardan greenbriar #dante russo #smut #nsfr #notsfw #not sfw

[torntoblivion]

rough s3x with alhaitham

cw: nsfw (mdni), gn!reader, doggy style, unprotected (wrap it y'all), hair pulling, breeding

"haitham!"

your muffled scream reaches alhaitham's ears, his cock twitching inside of you. he has you pinned face first to the bed; one hand tangled in your hair, pushing your head to the pillows and the other holding your wrists. if he wasn't holding you up, your body would have given up on you a while ago.

alhaitham is not usually this rough with you but you knew the second he got home that he was pissed off at something. you barely managed to greet him before he dragged you to his room.

at first, you were worried that kaveh would get home and hear your cries for haitham to fuck you harder but you're too far gone to think about it right now. you lost count of how many times you've came at this point but you want more.

you're sure alhaitham got the point by you chanting his name like a prayer and your walls tightening around his thick cock, making him groan. suddenly alhaitham pulls you up by your hair and angling your face down.

"watch how i fuck you."

was all he said before speeding up, the sinful sight of your hole taking alhaitham's cock pushes you to the edge even closer. you feel your cheeks flush at the wetness smeared on your thighs, you want to look away but also watch at the same time.

you can tell alhaitham is close by his groans getting louder and his pace turning sloppy, you thrash underneath him as more sobs escaping your lips. you want him to fill you up already, feel him cum inside you.

you're so focused on alhaitham's pistoning cock that your orgasm feels so sudden when the knot in your stomach finally snaps as you release all over the sheets.

following you; alhaitham snaps his hips one last time, going as deep inside you as he could as his cock swells and constricts, shooting his load in your quivering hole. you hum happily, alhaitham finally filled you up. curse him and his ungodly stamina.

now he'll be using that stamina to take you to the bathroom to bathe together like he always does after sex. <3

#genshin impact #genshin impact hc #genshin impact hcs #genshin impact imagine #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x y/n #genshin impact x you #genshin impact fanfics #genshin impact fanfic #genshin impact fanfiction #genshin impact fanfictions #genshin impact headcanon #genshin impact headcanons #alhaitham #alhaitham smut #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham x you #alhaitham x y/n #nsfr

[cherryjuiceblues]

CONVERTED SNEAK PEEK (RUGBY!HARRY) COMING SOON! (NSFR)

“P’ppet?” It barely penetrates the thick fog of Y/N’s slumber—takes a pregnant moment for her ears to signal her brain—and then another moment for her brain to process the moniker and its mumbling speaker. They’d fallen asleep in an intimate enough of an embrace, Harry soothed when his best friend draped the weight of her body over his own in one final hug before bed. But he hadn’t let her go; hadn’t let her escape to her own side of the bed (because there was no way she was sleeping in her own hotel room after such a day) and she’d been content about it—only silently. 

How else could she feel when the mass of Harry’s biceps curled around her body like they might crush her brittle bones? Could, but never would. Safe in the arms of a very capable man, his vessel broad and solid underneath the smaller outline of her own. He feels like a boat in this position, wrapping up around her and keeping her safe from the oncoming slew of harsh waves amidst the treacherous sea.

And he’s warm. So warm. A human heater, some may tease—Y/N does tease, on frequent occasion—to extract a predictable mossy eye roll. His roiling heat paired with the compression of his hold had lulled her mind to sleep almost selfishly quickly, and if she’d been any more awake she might have fought it, might have brushed the pad of her thumb across the top of Harry’s brow until she was sure he’d drifted off. Would’ve accompanied him until he’d left the sadness of his day behind. But she just couldn’t help it, and it seemed as though Harry had only encouraged the evening of her breaths and the steady thump of her heart atop his chest. If her eyes had been open then she would’ve been able to observe the calm quirk of his lips as he gazed upon the back of her head and her face nestled into the crease of his neck.

She would have been able to see the ease in which Harry’s own eyelids fluttered shut as soon as he felt content that she was asleep. And she might have felt it necessary to call him weird to quell the nervous energy thrumming inside her body. To dispel any unwise thoughts she might conjure in the fuzzy whirl of received devotion.

They’ve moved in their sleep. No surprise, really—not with the way Harry tends to fidget and Y/N can never stay comfortable. And it takes another long, bleary moment to realise that Y/N is the only one that’s awake despite the heavy breathing and the repetition of the name in her ear. 

Her heart stutters inside her ribs.

She’s too hot, and the weight around her waist and cocooning her back is too… too much. It’s heavy, and nudges her in irregular motions, it yearns to fuse all the way down to her molecules. Part of her knows it’s Harry but the other part doesn’t understand what is reality and what is the doing of her slowly stirring consciousness.

He rouses behind her and Y/N’s spine stiffens at the movement, panicking that she’s been caught—but caught doing what exactly? Waking up? Breathing? Coming to the humiliating realisation that her best friend is dreaming of much nicer things and unaware that his body is betraying him? It dawns on her that the real fear is not knowing how to handle a situation like this. At least as long as Harry stays asleep she has time to figure it out; time to wriggle away fruitlessly.

It sparks something depraved in her lower belly and tingles all the way through her nervous system. They’ve fought before… wrestled (more accurately described as a game of cat and mouse with Y/N as the latter) and it’s brought a warmth to her cheeks that she’s always passed off as exertion. Easily believable with the creased state Harry leaves her clothes in alongside the kinks in her hair. But she knows it’s a lie. She knows that the fire of her skin is blazed alight by the inability to ever win against Harry. Maybe she should exercise more… take up boxing perhaps. Something to quell this desire. Or maybe she should get to the root of the issue instead of encouraging twisted fantasies with Harry—because she does—it’s muscle memory by now, to test her luck with a gentle swat to his arm that builds up to two, three, four, until Harry’s forced to wrap the expanse of his fingers around her easily incarcerated wrists. 

Every time, without fail, the adrenaline gives her a high. It makes her normally, composed facade crumble away in front of her very eyes. It puts a silly grin on her face and makes her skin buzz with glee. She tries to hide it, so as to not prompt any probing questions from Harry, but she’s certain she does a god-awful job. Never has Y/N been so thankful that she is the more astute of the pair.

So there’s a part of her—a rather dominant part—that yearns to make a sick game of it. To see how quickly Harry’s instincts kick in and his arms tighten up around her. Would he pull her back into his chest? Would he squeeze her as a warning and crush her body—eliciting a panic that tells her to struggle and escape just for a second? 

She knows she has to do something; can’t let him keep rutting against her backside—for his sake if nothing else. Y/N tries to imagine if it were her—ignores the depths of her mind telling her she’d love it—latches onto the humiliation and upset it would imbed deep within her brain. 

And she’s about to start wriggling, twitches only the slightest bit, before Harry’s beating her to it. In the heaviness of her slumber, and the pressing realisation, Y/N hadn’t felt the mass of Harry’s bicep nestled safely in the crook of her neck. But now she does. Now it manoeuvres her with ease and travels down to meet his other arm snug around her waist. Her own personal cage—imprisoned by warm flesh and bone, tight and compressing, holding her without the intention of ever letting her get too far away.

It travels down to his other arm, rests for a moment, before the plains of a palm smooths over an unsuspecting hip. Y/N tenses ever so slightly, surprised but not panicked… not yet. She doesn’t expect curious fingertips to reach so far, to curl into the crease of her thigh and sear right through the thick of Harry’s lended joggers.

“Harry.”

He slurs something back, still asleep, “Mm, s’okay b’by.” Whether or not her voice travels through the fog of his unconscious is unknown, but it doesn’t seem to matter. He’s only spurred further, film reel rolling—twice as fast now—spinning out of control. “I know, jus’— good, that’s good…” The strength of his arms must compare to some sort of hydraulic press, surely capable of grinding her bones down to marrow and she’s not sure she’d want to stop him.

Prickling heat washes over her from head to toe, the latter curling against the crisp hotel sheets. “Harry… Harry, wake up,” the breath floats from her lips, void of conviction in an unfamiliar way. She’s only human and the press of a body so close to her own, for the first time in longer than she’d like to admit; it builds. Slowly at first and then it starts hurtling—snowballing down a steep cliff edge with no brakes.

What if she doesn’t wake him? What if… if Harry starts to feel her weight push back into him, encouraging him, enticing him? Or if Y/N’s fingers start to dance their way down her front, tiptoe over the mound of Harry’s forearms and dip beneath the grey sweats of his she’s adorning. The thought is too tempting and she’d never forgive herself. 

#harry styles #harry styles smut #rugby!harry #sneak peek #harry styles one shots #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fluff #smut #nsfr

[holllandtrash]

red flags | charles leclerc

pairing: charles leclerc x reader

this is based off a request an anon left for @leclvrc but they opened it up for someone else to write it: 'toxic ex Charles where the reader and Carlos are together and Charles just couldn't stand that his teammates is with his ex'

word count: 13.2k (im so sorry) tags/warnings: 18+ toxic, smut, a lot of swears, really toxic, not healthy, i don’t condone any of this, this has so many red flags, more than the 2022 Emilia Romagna Grand Prix qualifying session (which was a lot) cheating, which i also don’t condone AT ALL holy moly don’t cheat on your partners, not even for charles leclerc, a little degrading, some choking did i mention this is just angst and hate and smut, thigh riding, overstimulation, p in v, all of it,  this is bad this is all bad, if you ever come across a guy like this fucking run and alternatively if you relate to y/n pls seek a therapist.

Honestly, it was fucking stupid. All of it. 

The way Charles looked at you when you walked into the motorhome as if you were a driver for a rival team was stupid. The way he literally rolled his eyes or made a face of disgust whenever you kissed Carlos was stupid. The way he completely disregarded your presence as you stood at the barrier to congratulate Carlos and him at the end of a Ferrari 1-2, was fucking stupid. And it was on international television so everyone and their mother was able to see the way Charles purposely ignored you after hugging the people on either side of you. 

You decided to call him out on it the second you and Carlos returned to the hotel. 

“What room is he in?” You demanded, storming down the hall when the elevator doors opened. 

“Mi cielo, I don’t have a key to his room.”

The endearing term almost made you forget about ripping into Charles. Carlos had such a good weekend, he just wanted to relax and celebrate with you. Instead, he was following you down the hallway as you pointed at all of the numbered suites, waiting to see if Carlos would react to any of them.

And he did. He swallowed when you passed room 1250. You came to a sudden halt and looked back and forth between him and the door.

“This is his room?”

“I don’t know.”

“Oh my love,” you clicked your tongue against your teeth, stepping forward to cup his cheek with your hand. You felt his stubble under the pads of your fingers as you plastered on your sweetest smile. “You have a distinct tell when you lie.”

Your smile dropped as Carlos tried to argue with you, assuring you that he wasn’t lying. But he did the same thing every time a little white lie passed through his lips. He always glanced up and to the left. Very quickly, you’d miss it if you weren’t looking for it, but it was a nervous tell of his you came to learn early on into your relationship.

Turning on your heels, you raised your fist to the door and started to hit it obnoxiously loud. Carlos attempted to grab your arm to get you to stop, muttering something about how there were other people in this hotel, but you just swatted him away and kept pounding on the wooden surface. 

Charles knew you were out in the hall. There was no one else who would be causing this much of a disturbance just to talk to him. You had done it before, before you two even broke up. There were countless times when the two of you had gotten into fights during a race weekend and he’d ask for the hotel keys to be switched, purposely locking you out for a few hours, occasionally even for a full night if the argument was bad enough.

Honestly, you should have walked away from Charles a lot sooner. 

But when things were good they were really fucking good. And the make up sex after you two were finished yelling at each other was almost as good as the hate sex. 

And that’s all it was that was keeping you together. The physical attraction, the intimate pull you two shared. It wasn’t love, it wasn't romance and it certainly wasn’t the idea that you two would start a family and settle down one day. It was purely sex and it was unhealthy. 

Whereas Carlos was everything Charles could never be. 

Obviously jumping from one Ferrari driver to another caused a bit of an uproar, but it made for an entertaining episode on the last season of Drive to Survive. The producers had a habit of creating their own drama, but they didn’t need to embellish anything between Carlos and Charles. There was tension on the track, the determination to be the better driver, the constant fight and you were in the middle of it. 

It wasn’t your fault that Carlos just so happened to be standing in the motorhome when you and Charles got into one of the worst screaming matches of your lives. You both thought the place was empty, it was nearly midnight and no one had any reason to still be at the paddock. 

But Carlos heard it all. He heard all of the things Charles called you. He heard every swear in every possible language you knew come out of your mouth. He heard the door slam. He heard the way you screamed ‘We’re done’ with such strength and fury that he himself was paralysed with fear as you stormed down the stairs. 

And then he saw your tear stained cheeks. He saw your trembling hands and heard your ragged breaths as you landed on the bottom step. You met Carlos’ eyes and not only were you embarrassed that he was a witness to that whole mess, his pitiful stare was what pushed you to the edge. 

Your knees gave out as you all but collapsed to the floor. Carlos crossed the motorhome and bent down to your level, hurrying to take off his jumper so you could use it to wipe the tears that just wouldn’t stop. 

What were you even crying for? Your relationship had been over for months by that point. Charles treated you like shit. You treated him like shit. It was a toxic cycle that was finally coming to an end.

But for two years, he was all you knew. He was everything to you. The good, the bad, the disastrous, it was your life. 

You didn’t intend on anyone picking up the pieces. This was your mess, you had to move on by yourself. 

So when Carlos offered to take you out, get you away from the motorhome, away from Charles, even just go for a drive, you almost said no. He had seen the downfall of yours and Charles’ relationship coming for a while now and you didn’t want to burden him anymore. You should have just stood up and left. 

But you didn’t. 

You hung out with Carlos that night. Nothing happened, of course. Maybe because part of you was holding onto that sliver of hope that Charles would call and ask where you were, only that call never came. He was done too. 

There were no ulterior motives when you decided to keep hanging out with Carlos. It wasn’t to get under Charles’ nerves, it wasn’t so you could still be around the paddock. In all honesty, you avoided the races for a while, not wanting to run into Charles. Your friendship with Carlos grew, but you kept it private. It wasn’t until the second last race of the season, nearly four months after you and Charles called things off, did you decide to show up in support of Carlos.

God did you regret that. If you had known the Drive to Survive production team was still hanging around, you probably would have stayed home. Instead, you gave them the last little bit of drama they needed before calling it a wrap. 

Charles spotted you first, which wasn’t ideal. You hadn’t shown up with Carlos, but he was expecting you. Charles, on the other hand, stopped in his tracks and took his sunglasses off, narrowing his eyes at you as you walked in his direction.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Charles asked, clear annoyance on his face. To him, you were a headache with legs. He thought he’d never have to see you again.

You weren’t going to let his attitude get to you. If anyone was going to be the bigger person you made sure it was you. You smiled sweetly at him, not even bothering to stop to give him the time of day as you just pointed at the Ferrari motorhome. 

“You can’t go in there,” Charles scoffed, pivoting on his heels to follow you. He reached for your arm and you were quick to pull it from his grasp. 

“Don’t fucking touch me,” you snarled.

“Then don’t show up at the fucking race,” Charles shot back. “Why are you here, Y/N? You have no reason to be here.”

“I’m just here to support my favourite Ferrari driver.” 

The confusion on his face was priceless. 100% he was wondering if you were there in hopes of winning him back.

But Carlos’ timing couldn’t have been more perfect. He was walking from the other end of the paddock and picked up his pace the second he saw you and Charles already bickering. He didn’t want you two to cause a scene, but he might have already been too late.

When you spotted Carlos, you genuinely forgot about the Monegasque driver standing right next to you. Your hard features softened. Your scowl shifted into a smile. Your shoulders relaxed. 

Before Carlos could even greet you, Charles let out a chuckle of disbelief. “Don’t tell me you’re fucking my teammate.” 

“Not yet,” you shrugged. “I’ll see how well he does today first.”

It was a joke that Charles took literally. Once Carlos finally reached you, he placed a hand on your back and asked how your drive in was, giving Charles the cold shoulder. 

Charles couldn’t believe what was right in front of him. His ex and his teammate. Friends? Possibly more than friends? He scoffed, pulling you both from your private conversation, “This is a fucking joke.”

“Don’t you have somewhere else to be?” You challenged him. Carlos picked up on your venomous tone and pulled you closer into his side, ready to intervene if he needed to.

Charles just looked at Carlos and slid his sunglasses back on, “Have fun with her, mate. She’s a wild card.”

“Can we just all be civil?” Carlos asked, looking between you and Charles. Neither of you said anything. That wasn’t something either of you could promise. Carlos eventually sighed, staring right at Charles, “She won’t bother you.”

“You don’t speak for me,” you snapped your head towards him. 

Carlos wasn’t about to put up with your attitude right now. You were annoyed, your morning hadn’t started off the way you wanted and you were dangerously close to taking it out on the wrong person. Carlos recognised this and spoke directly to you, “You won’t bother him, right?” 

You didn’t want to ruin Carlos’ day. So you nodded, agreeing to stay out of Charles’ way granted he offered you the same courtesy. 

Charles stalked off immediately following that conversation. And he was true to his word, he stayed out of your way. 

The only problem was, the fucking Netflix crew managed to capture most of that interaction. Even if they didn’t get audio, they didn’t need it. They could fill in the blanks and turn this situation into a goddamn soap opera. 

It didn’t help that when Carlos landed a podium, you were right there against the barriers. Neither of you had crossed that line yet and had remained friends for the last few months, but the adrenaline was high. Carlos had one of the best races of his life and you were genuinely so excited to have witnessed it, to have been there to cheer him on, to be one of the first people he saw when he parked the car at the end of the race.

You made the first move, and even then, it wasn’t really a move. You kissed his helmet, barely able to contain the grin on your face as the crowd behind you exploded for him. 

You didn’t expect him to pull his helmet off, that’s for damn sure. But he did. He handed it towards a team member for temporary safe keeping and grabbed your face, crashing his lips against yours. There were about twenty other people he could have celebrated with first, you were only a friend up until now, but he wanted to kiss you in front of thousands of people. 

Charles never did that.

He’d hug you, maybe, if you weren’t in a bad mood and were actually watching from the garage. He wouldn’t jump into your arms like he did the rest of the team. He wouldn’t make it public that he was elated to see you in the crowd. He’d squeeze your arm or your waist, that was it.

Carlos didn’t think twice about the repercussions. He didn’t think about twitter and instagram blowing up as CARLOS CELEBRATES WITH CHARLES LECLERC’S EX-GF topped all of the trends. He didn’t think about how bad this would look for you or the team, or for the dynamic between him and Charles moving forward.

The upside was there was only one race left. One race, which of course you attended. And then you two were in the clear. 

During the winter break, you were in your own little world. Carlos treated you how you knew you deserved to be treated. He didn’t raise his voice at you, or if he did it was only in a playful way or when you had stolen the remote and changed the film when he stood up to use the bathroom during a movie night.

Slowly but surely, you were falling in love with the Spanish driver. 

It was a whirlwind romance that came out of nowhere and knocked you off your feet. The two of you were on cloud nine from December to March. Four months where the world beyond his house didn’t matter. The drama didn’t matter. The impending tension as you moved closer and closer to the start of the new season, didn’t matter.

You didn’t even care that Netflix painted you out to be a villain. At this point, the majority of Charles' fans couldn’t stand you and about half of Carlos’ fans didn’t trust you. Paddock Bunny, you were called. Hopping from driver to driver. 

But people didn’t know about the toxic relationship you shared with Charles. No one outside of the Paddock knew you two were at your absolute worst when you were together. If they did, they’d probably be over the fucking moon to hear how Carlos was treating you in comparison. They’d probably stop rooting for the Monegasque driver. 

What a sight that would be. People burning their 16 caps and CL merch because they found out how awful of a partner he was. It would never happen, but you could dream.

You were tempted to make that dream a reality when you showed up at testing in Bahrain with Carlos. You had so much dirt on Charles, so many stories that would ruin him and the Leclerc name that when he took one look at you in the paddock that first weekend in March, you nearly sent in an anonymous email to Sky Sports. 

Carlos talked you out of it, telling you that you couldn’t drag his teammate through the mud.

But Charles was such a fucking asshole. He stayed out of your way, sure, but if your paths did cross he made you feel so inferior, like you weren’t allowed to be in the Paddock. He’d make snarky little comments to other drivers or to members of his team, calling you names you didn’t want to repeat, all because you were with Carlos now. He treated you like you were scum of the earth. 

So…it was similar to when you were dating. The only difference now was you couldn’t scream at him or cause a fight when you felt the tension building. You couldn’t even attempt to work through it, even temporarily. Both of you just carried all of this weight and frustration on your shoulders, both angry at the other for the stupidest fucking reasons. 

Flash forward to today's race when it finally came to a boiling point. 

Charles won. Carlos finished second. It was a Ferrari 1-2 at the second race of the season. This would do wonders for the constructors and for both of them. You hated Charles but you would always be a Ferrari fan. You supported Carlos so in some way, you were sort of forced to support Charles. At an arm's length and through tooth and nail, but you did want to see both drivers succeed. 

When both drivers made their way out of the cars, Carlos found you first. He kissed you, of course he did. He was glistening with sweat, his name was being called from all angles but he found you and he kissed you like there wasn’t a single person watching.

He made his way down the line, celebrating with his team and Charles did the same. They exchanged a hug as they met in the middle of the line and it was only a few seconds later when Charles was right in front of you. 

He didn’t even look your way. He hugged the person to your left and then grabbed the arms of the person to your right, bypassing you completely. 

You weren’t expecting a celebratory hug, you certainly didn’t want one. But the cameras had caught the lack of interaction and now once again your name was trending. CHARLES GIVES EX THE COLD SHOULDER AFTER FERRARI 1-2.

You looked like a fucking idiot. It didn’t help that someone with a camera captured a clip of you staring at Charles like he had just spit on you or insulted your entire family. The disgust and betrayal on your face was evident. 

Carlos tried to tell you that it wasn’t that big of a deal. Maybe he just didn’t see you. You were right in the front and you were the same fucking height, of course he saw you. 

So you were pissed the entire drive to the hotel. Carlos asked you not to say anything. He practically begged for the two of you to just go back to your room, but the moment you stepped out of the elevator, your mind was made up. 

Now here you were, banging on his hotel room door. The underside of your first was starting to turn numb and no matter what, Carlos couldn’t get you to stop. Each time he tried to grab your hand or pull you away, you elbowed him in the side or yanked your arm out of his grasp. 

“Open the fucking door!” You yelled, landing one more exceptionally hard hit on it. Carlos winced at the contact. Your hand was going to hurt in the morning, but the fact that you paid the pain no attention right now said a lot. How often did you find yourself in this situation?

But it worked. Charles probably had enough of the disturbance and he swung the door open. You had half a mind to land a hit directly to his nose, but that wouldn’t look good for his image. 

He didn’t even look at Carlos. His gaze hardened as he met your stare, “What do you want?”

“I don’t want anything!” You jabbed a finger against his chest, pushing him further into his own hotel suite. Carlos tried to grab your arm and pull you back but it just resulted in him being dragged into the room after you. There was no stopping you when you were this outraged. You scanned over Charles, hating his I’m-too-good-for-this-shit, expression he wore. “What I need is for you to get your fucking head out of your ass.”

“What are you talking about?”

 The nerve of this man. 

“Have you not looked at your phone recently?” You tried not to scream at him, but it was hard to keep your voice at a respectful volume when the person who caused you so much grief and anger was standing a foot away from you. “Everyone saw the way you completely ignored me at the end of your race. I’m a fucking laughing stock on social media right now.”

Charles nodded, his jaw clenched, “Have you ever thought that maybe, just maybe, you brought this on yourself by sleeping with your ex’s teammate?”

You turned over your head at Carlos who was now leaning against the wall, hands in his pockets as he watched you two hash it out. This was probably a long time coming. This was also the longest you had gone without fighting, you had a lot of pent up aggression and you were certain he did too. 

Carlos knew that there was a time and a place to step in, so he just watched carefully, listening for when one of you crossed a line. He couldn’t place a bet for who would be the first to do so, but he knew it was coming. 

You stepped forward, expecting Charles to step backwards to keep the gap, but he was never one to back down from you. That was your problem, one of them at least. You were both too stubborn. 

“I don’t know why you think this is just a fucking hook up, Charles, but let me remind you that it’s not. I love him-”

“I love you too,” Carlos added from behind you and your heart skipped a beat. It wasn’t humanely possible to grow tired of hearing those words. 

But again, time and place.

Charles snickered when you held up a hand towards your boyfriend, a nonverbal reminder that now was probably not the time to interject, even if he did so with the sweetest intentions. 

You focused back on Charles. “I love him, so I’ll be sticking around for a while whether you like it or not.” And just to get under his skin, you added, “I know love is a word you’re probably not familiar with-”

Charles dragged his hands over his face. It was his turn to raise his voice as he cut you off mid-sentence before you could finish whatever painful truth he didn’t want to hear, “Why the fuck are you here?”

“I want you to apologise for completely disregarding me earlier.

“What are you on about, Y/N?”

You hated the way he said your name. Like each individual letter was laced with its own personal brand of venom. 

“Are you kidding me?” He had to be playing dumb to piss you off even more. “I was at the barrier and you hugged every other person around me and didn’t even have the audacity to look at me. I don’t need a hug, Charles, but maybe get off your fucking high horse and show some fucking appreciation when I show up in support of Ferrari! Put on a fucking act when the cameras are around, at least.”

Charles raked his eyes over your body. Your chest was rising with each angered breath. He knew your heart was racing. He knew what you were like when you were riled up like this. 

He also knew that if you weren’t with Carlos, this fight would end very differently. 

He knew you would turn around and leave with Carlos when you finally got the last word in but if Carlos wasn’t glued to your side right now, you wouldn’t be leaving until Charles fucked you so hard, you forgot why you were even mad in the first place. 

He’d pin you against the wall to get you to stop talking and kiss every inch of the skin visible on your neck before his hand found a home on your throat. His other hand would work to keep your wrist glued to the wall to keep you from grabbing him. 

He’d tease you until you were begging for him to actually do something and even then, Charles would take his time with you. Sex with him was never easy. It wasn’t gentle or loving, it was rough and fueled by a variety of emotions, anger being the most prominent. 

But that wasn’t how this fight was going to end. Charles could rile you up all he wanted but at the end of the night, you’d go back to your room with Carlos. You could take the rest of your anger out on him in bed and he’d probably run you a fucking bubble bath afterwards and kiss your shoulders. He probably had a whole assortment of ways to make you forget why you were upset, wholesome ways. Ways that didn’t make you want to claw his eyes out. 

Charles hated the thought. 

He hated knowing that you could stand here and yell at him and get most of your frustration out and at the end of it, you had someone else to turn to. Someone to turn things around for the better. Whereas he had no one. He had to stand here and listen to you scream at him and when you left, he’d be alone. 

There would be no hate sex. No make up sex. No waking up the next morning with you in his arms. He wouldn’t be able to bury his face into the back of your neck, making you laugh softly when he muttered something about your hair being too long. He could no longer reach for your arm to pull you back on top of the covers when you tried to stand up to go take a shower. 

You two had some horrible days and a lot of insufferable nights. 

But the mornings were good.

Before anything else mattered, before either of you could remember why you were fighting twelve hours earlier, before a comment was said that negatively affected your mood for the next few hours. 

The mornings were fucking good and god did he miss that.

He wondered if you did too.

But you probably had the best mornings with Carlos. He probably made you breakfast in bed, something that Charles was always too tired to do. Carlos probably pulled you into the bathroom to shower with him whereas Charles always complained about the type of shampoo you used and how you hogged most of the water. Carlos probably invited you out to his events, his meetings, to run errands and Charles wouldn’t even consider letting you tag along, knowing that a fight would break out one way or another. 

You brought out the worst in each other. 

He should have walked away from you a long time ago.

He had enough experience with red flags to know that you were the worst of them.

Neither of you could explain why you put up with each other for so long. It wasn’t love, it was never love. What you had with Carlos was love.

Charles could admit he was envious. 

Why couldn’t you ever look at him the way you looked at his teammate? Why was it so easy for Carlos to make you laugh? Why did he walk in on conversations where Carlos was talking about you like you put the fucking sun in the sky? 

What did Carlos have that he didn’t? Besides patience. And a sense of humour. And the ability to admit when he was in the wrong. 

The more Charles thought about it, the more it sunk in that he wasn’t good for you.

He remembered when you first started dating and he wanted to be good for you. He wanted to be what you needed. He wanted to fall in love with you and he wanted you to fall in love with him in return.

He couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment when something in your relationship shifted for the worse, but it didn’t matter.

None of it mattered. 

This whole thing was fucking stupid. You kissing Carlos after he got second place was stupid, especially when he thought about how you never kissed him when he got a podium. You banging on his door hours after the race to yell at him was stupid. And now, you standing right in front of him while your boyfriend, his teammate, listened with caution in case he had to step in was fucking stupid. You could handle yourself, Charles knew that much.

You were still yelling at him about how he had completely disregarded you after the race. Charles zoned out for a second, something he often did when you raised your voice. All of these fights sounded the same, it didn’t matter what the current problem was. The biggest problem was always your relationship in general. The two of you should not have been allowed within ten feet of each other.

He promptly cut you off, “Y/N you are the absolute last person I want to see when I finish a race.”

“Well suck it up because I’m going to be around for a while,” your jaw tightened as you spoke. The lines in your forehead were making a reappearance. You were always scowling at him, Charles couldn’t remember the last time you looked relaxed.

“That doesn’t mean I need to put up with it.”

“Yes it fucking does,” you retorted. “I’m here for Carlos and here for Ferrari. You just so happen to be part of this fucking team so unfortunately for both of us, we can’t just avoid each other all season, Charles.”

“Well we can fucking try and you can start-” he gestured towards the door, “-by getting the hell out of my hotel room.”

You tugged at the roots of your hair, inhaling a deep breath, “Oh my fucking god-”

“Can you please control her?” Charles turned his line of sight towards Carlos. Carlos looked like he didn’t want to be dragged into the middle of this, but now he had no choice.

“Control me?” You yelled. “Oh you pretentious, arrogant fucking bastard-”

“Come on, Y/N,” Carlos stepped forward, cutting you off before you could start swearing in French. He reached for your hand and you were harsh in pulling it away from him. The last thing you wanted right now was to be touched, though.

“No, mate you’re doing it wrong,” Charles interjected. A wicked smirk on his lips as he stared at you but spoke directly to Carlos. “You can’t grab her like that, she doesn’t like it. She’ll only listen if you go for the throat, choke the words out of her-”

Now Carlos was getting involved. You made a swing towards Charles, aiming for his face but Carlos grabbed you and pulled you back, his arms tightening around your waist and using his strength to his advantage, something he didn’t like doing with you. He practically pushed you towards the door before squaring up with Charles himself, nearly chest to chest. 

Carlos was fuming over what Charles had said. He knew your relationship was toxic, but he couldn’t believe that after months, almost a year, of it being over, Charles could still say something so degrading, so disrespectful. 

And Charles was smirking. He thought this was entertaining. He knew Carlos wouldn’t hit him. He knew Carlos wouldn’t let you hit him. He also knew that you weren’t going to be able to get the last word in, something you thrived on. 

“I’m not wrong,” Charles said quietly, eyes darting towards you for a brief second as you stood with your arms crossed by the door. Charles gestured towards his own neck, “Give it a try sometime. She likes it.”

“How about you just stop talking about her, yeah?” Carlos suggested, with an underlying bitter tone that wasn’t usually present when he opened his mouth. “Don’t talk about her, don’t talk to her, don’t even look at her.”

He made the mistake of looking at you right when he said that and Carlos raised his hand to push on Charles’ chest, forcing his attention away from you. 

He didn’t want to fight with teammate, but he was going to stand up for you no matter what. Time and place, he decided, and right now, Charles had to be put in his fucking place.

“She’s not worth it, mate,” Charles chuckled. 

“It’s the other way around, mate.” Carlos mimicked. “You’re not worth it. At least Y/N was able to figure that out.”

They both flinched when the door slammed. Carlos turned over his shoulder to see that you were no longer standing there. You stormed out of the room. Charles tried to tell him to just leave you be, you did this all the time, but Carlos wasn’t Charles. 

He followed you out and found you furiously pressing the elevator button, tapping your foot impatiently on the carpeted floor. Carlos knew better than to reach for your arm at this point, so he settled for putting his hand on your waist and stepping forward until his chest was against you. You felt the tension in your shoulders dissipate when he slowly snaked his arm around your stomach, pulling you against him. 

You dropped your head to his shoulder, eyes closed and you whispered, “I hate him.”

“I know,” Carlos pressed a kiss to your temple. 

What a fucking difference. Usually you were screaming ‘I hate you’ and you’d hear those three words repeated back. Sometimes in French. Sometimes in Italian. Once, Charles took you by surprise and screamed it in Spanish. Whatever the context, whatever the language, whatever the fight, you’d always hear it back.

You raised your hand to press your palm against his cheek. Carlos hugged you tighter against him and you stayed like that until the elevator doors finally opened on the twelfth level. 

You pressed the button to take you to the lobby and Carlos raised an eyebrow, knowing the room you shared was on the tenth floor.

“I need air,” you answered his wordless question. “Just for a minute. I need to take a walk.”

“I don’t want you walking around by yourself this late,” Carlos was worried for your safety and that was such a foreign concept to you. When you told Charles you need to go for a walk he would say ‘I don’t care’ or ‘don’t come back’. He wasn’t concerned about what could happen to you when you stepped outside.

You extended your hand out to grab his, giving him an assuring squeeze, “I’ll be fine, I promise.”

Carlos walked you to the doors of the lobby, not letting your hand go until he had to. He pressed a kiss to your forehead and slid the extra room key into your jacket pocket. He then took hold of your face, tilting it upwards so he could look you directly in the eyes.

“I love you, mi cielo,” he kissed your lips feverishly. “Call me if you need me to pick you up.”

Mi cielo. My sky. My heaven. Carlos started calling you that soon after you started dating. When you asked what it meant, he said that he was calling you his own personal slice of heaven right here on earth. 

That’s when you knew you loved him. 

You assured him once more you’d be fine before stepping outside, letting the midnight air hit your cheeks. Your jacket was thin, but you didn’t plan on staying out for very long. With your hands shoved in your pockets, you made your way down the sidewalk, replaying the last few minutes in your head.

You really did hate Charles. 

Everything about him infuriated you beyond reason. 

You couldn’t stand his arrogant attitude. How he couldn’t own up to his own mistakes, in his personal life, in your relationship, on the track. Charles just couldn't be wrong. All of his problems were always someone else's fault.

You remembered the first horrible fight you got into. You had bickered here and there, all couples did, but when he returned home after a race weekend and you showed him the text you got from Pierre, one that read ‘did you and Charles break up?’ you lost it on him.

He cheated on you. Why the fuck else would Pierre be asking you that? There were no photos, no proof, and Pierre refused to go into detail, but you knew. You could practically smell the infidelity on him as he walked through the door. 

When gaslighting you into thinking you were crazy didn’t work, Charles tried to blame you for his actions. He tried to say that you didn’t pay him enough attention, that you should be joining him during race weekends so he didn’t feel tempted to seek affection somewhere else. It was your fault he cheated. 

And you loved him, well you thought you did, so you started accompanying him more often. 

God did that just make things worse.

Everything was a constant downhill in your relationship. There was no silver lining. There were good moments, but they were always overshadowed by the impending dark clouds. It was never easy for you two. 

And you weren’t perfect either, you could admit you had flaws and contributed to your relationship falling apart. You didn’t trust Charles, as much as you wanted to, you never did. There was no solid foundation for you two to ever stand on so you shouldn’t have been surprised when the cracks started forming. 

You became annoyed with every little thing he did, or said, or even the way he looked at you. Qualities of his you used to admire soon because the reasons why you struggled to be in the same room as him. 

The two of you were constantly at each other's throats. It was unhealthy and everyone around you saw it. 

His team was probably ecstatic when they heard you broke up. They didn’t have to worry about a blow up in the garage or Charles being in a bad mood during meetings. 

No one could have expected you’d show up again with Carlos. 

The team walked on eggshells, watching to see if you and Charles would return to your ways, bickering, arguing, yelling. 

But that didn’t happen during testing. Nor did it happen during the first race weekend, or the second. There were only petty comments made behind the others back, but nothing that caused the two of you to get into each other's faces again. 

You thought maybe you could work with this. Just having to see Charles. As long as you didn’t talk directly to him, everything would be fine. That’s what the whole team was hoping for, at least. 

And then this bullshit after the race happened and you couldn’t bite your tongue anymore. You needed Charles to understand where you were coming from, why he couldn’t just brush you off in front of the public eye like that. 

There was so much more you wanted to say to him too, you wondered why you even stormed out. 

Going for a walk and getting air wasn’t helping. If anything, the anger stirred inside of you and the more time you spent not letting it out, the more worked up you became. 

Maybe that’s why you found yourself hitting button 12 instead of 10 when you returned to the hotel. You needed to get one or two more things off your chest and then you’d be fine, then you could go back to Carlos. 

You knocked on the door, politely this time. Not like it mattered because he probably looked through the peephole to see who was standing in the hall. 

The door swung open. Charles rolled his eyes after checking to see if Carlos had followed you up. When he realised that you were alone, he pushed the door open some more, just enough for you to step in.

“I take it you’re not done?” Charles’ assumption was correct, but it was a little surprising that he invited you in without you needing to cause a scene. Maybe he had more he wanted to say to you as well.

He grabbed the remote off the edge of the counter and paused the movie that was playing. You recognised it instantly. He was watching The Princess Bride. One of your favourite movies. 

There’s no fucking way he was just scrolling through the tv guide and came across it. He had to purposely search and pay for it. 

You raised your eyebrows and pointed at the television, completely ignoring his question, “Princess Bride?”

He shrugged, “It was just on.”

Bull-fucking-shit. 

“I thought you hated this movie,” you recalled the number of times you tried to get him to watch it with you and he never would. 

Charles shrugged again, “Well you seem to like it.”

“So you’re just now giving it a chance eight months after we’ve broken up?”

“Would you rather I not watch it?”

“I would have rathered you watched it with me when I fucking asked you too!” It only took ten seconds for you to raise your voice at him. “Jesus, Charles, when I told you it was my favourite movie you went out of your fucking way to never let me watch it.”

“You’re being dramatic. I never did that.”

“Don’t gaslight me.”

“Stop using that fucking word,” He had heard it so many times during your fights.

“Stop giving me a reason to.”

And just like that, you had fallen back into your previous cycle. Pointless, stupid, meaningless fights. Over a movie for fucks sakes. But you were both so easy to piss off. No one worked you two up quite like the other. 

“Why are you here?” Charles asked, shifting the conversation back to you. “Shouldn’t you be with Carlos?”

You caught the lingering jealousy in his tone. The way he waved his hand to the side, acting as though you dating his teammate didn’t bother him, when in reality it did. 

But Charles also caught the way your breath caught in your throat. He noticed how you shifted your balance from one leg to the other, something you only did when you were nervous. You may not have been a good pair, but that didn’t mean he didn’t know you. 

“Carlos has no idea that you’re here right now, does he?” Charles didn’t even have to ask. He knew the answer. 

Maybe that’s why he stepped forward slowly, eyes raking over your body like they had done so many times before. Maybe because he knew Carlos didn’t know your whereabouts, Charles felt confident enough to step around you and tug at the sleeves of your jacket until it was no longer on your body. You didn’t know why you let him. You came here to yell at him some more and in a split second, in the blink of a fucking eye, the atmosphere shifted. 

Charles reached for your wrist and you reacted like you did every other time someone touched you, by flinching away and putting some space between your bodies. 

But that wasn’t going to work with Charles. 

He paid no attention to your reserved tendencies and just grabbed your other arm instead, gripping your wrist and turning you to face him before you could react fast enough. You attempted to pull away, you even pushed on his chest, but Charles was unphased. He just waited a few seconds, letting you think you’d win this and then he grabbed your other wrist and spun you around so your back was pressed against his chest, your arms crossed over your body like an X. 

Charles dipped chin so his mouth was right by your ear. His breath was hot against your skin. There was no doubt in your mind that he could feel your heart racing through the clothes on your back.

“Mon amour,” Charles spoke so softly, but you didn’t let his gentle tone fool you. Neither did you let his name for you affect you the way it used to. “Let’s stop fighting, oui?”

“Don’t call me that,” you pulled against his hold but his grip was too tight.

Charles chuckled and you felt a knot form in the pit of your stomach, “What would you rather I call you? Mi cielo?”

“Absolutely fucking not,” you snapped.

“Yeah, I can’t believe he calls you that,” his lips travelled dangerously close along your skin. You could feel goosebumps rise over every inch of your skin. “You were always picky about pet names, but Carlos doesn’t know that, does he?”

“Don’t-”

You lost the last of your argument when Charles suddenly let you go, only to pin you against the nearby wall instead. His hand went to your throat, keeping you in place without applying any pressure. Before you could push him off of you, he grabbed both of your wrists and placed them above your head. 

This was a position the two of you had found yourselves in more often than not. 

But you were broken up now. You were with Carlos. You loved Carlos. Charles had absolutely no fucking right to be trying to pull a move like this.

And you had no right to be enjoying it.

“Answer me,” Charles’ eyes darkened. “Does Carlos know what you like? Does he know how to turn you on, mon amour?” He leaned in, his lips hovering right over yours, “Does he know you still think about me?”

“Let go of me,�� your voice was barely audible, like you had to convince yourself to say the words and even then, you weren’t even sure if what you were demanding was what you really wanted.

Charles noticed how you avoided each of his questions, which in itself was a good enough answer to all of them. 

When he released the hold on your neck, you expected his other hand to follow. You weren’t surprised, however, when his grip on your wrists only tightened. His fingers trailed down your side, stopping to push up the hem of your shirt. You shivered under his touch and it gave Charles a bit of an ego boost, the confidence he needed to go further. 

You wanted him. Even if you said you didn’t, the way you reacted to the faintest touch told him otherwise. 

He needed to hear it though. He’d tease you until the sun came up, he’d done it before. What Charles wanted was to hear you beg. He wanted you to tell him how desperate you were for him, how these last eight months without him had been unbearable. 

He had no idea what your sex life with Carlos was like. He didn’t want to know. It didn’t matter. Charles knew he would always be the best fuck of your life. No one would ever take that title from him.

He undid the button of your jeans, all while keeping his eyes locked on yours. Waiting to see how you’d respond, if you’d put up more of a fight or not.

You were the one that showed up here, alone, after an argument. 

You may have been broken up, but if there was one thing Charles knew, it was recognising a fucking pattern.

He then dragged your zipper down next. He traced his fingers along the seam of your underwear and he couldn’t stop himself from glancing at them to see what colour they were.

Of course they were red. 

“For Carlos,” you told him, reminding him that you had a boyfriend. You wore a matching lingerie set for your boyfriend. “He likes me in red.”

“Of course he does,” Charles tossed that thought aside, “It’s a shame he won’t be able to enjoy them.”

He slipped the tips of his fingers past the seam. It was embarrassing how your back arched off the wall. Charles made sure your legs were spread by keeping a knee pressed between them and he looked pleased with himself as his hand travelled further down your panties.

His hand rested just above your clit, he didn’t need to go any further to know you were soaking. Charles knew exactly what to do and say to turn you on, to leave you craving him. His nose brushed against yours and if you tilted your chin up the slightest bit, your lips would connect.

But Charles dipped his head to attach his lips to your neck instead, the spot where your throat met your jawline. You craned your head upwards, automatically giving him easier access as his teeth grazed your skin. 

Charles knew your body better than you did. He knew that the second he took your earlobe between his teeth, your breaths would become staggered. He knew that the tighter he held onto your wrist, the more you gave in, you always gave in. He knew that the moment his fingers brushed over your clit, a helpless whimper would pass through your lips.

Charles knew the pattern by heart. He knew you. 

So when he did all of that and Carlos’ name didn’t cross your mind, you knew you were screwed. You should have been trying harder to push Charles off of you. You shouldn’t have even showed up here in the first place.

He started massaging your clit, slowly yet confident in his actions and you were absolutely throbbing. Charles didn’t like gentle so the fact he was taking his time right now, purposely trying to work you up even more, only pissed you off further.

Charles dropped his mouth, moving to suck on another sensitive part of your neck. He debated leaving a mark, something you’d struggle to hide when you eventually, inevitably, returned to Carlos.

“Charles,” you swallowed, legs shaking as he focused all his energy on your clit. Rubbing the nub beneath the pads of his fingers. 

“Oui, mon amour?” His voice was sickeningly sweet, it was an act. Nothing about this, about him, was sweet. He lifted his head, nose brushing against yours as he dropped his forehead to yours. “Tell me what you want.”

It took a second, but you managed to form a single coherent thought, forcing the name out through clenched teeth, knowing just how much it would get under Charles’ skin.

“Carlos.”

Charles had the audacity to laugh. His lips hovered over yours, barely touching, but close enough that you found yourself trying to lean forward to connect them. 

“Wrong answer.”

Without warning, Charles’s hand dipped further and he plunged two fingers inside of you. He watched with a smug look on his face as your jaw fell open and a helpless inhale was all that came from you. You attempted to clench your legs together but Charles made sure that his knee kept them apart as he slowly started to slide his digits in and out.

“You always take me so well, don’t you?” His praise sent a wave of pleasure straight to your core. He kissed your jaw softly, “So tight, Y/N. Does Carlos not know how to fuck you?”

He wasn’t looking for an answer. And it wasn’t like you were in the state of mind to give him one. Charles curled his fingers inside of you and your hips bucked against his hand, desperate to get as much out of this as you possibly could. 

He was relentless with his fingers and stubborn in the way he held your wrists above your head when all you wanted to do was touch him. Each time his fingers entered you it was driven by fury and lust, a dangerous combination that you knew so well. 

He was purposely keeping his lips off of you now, wanting to watch you crumble from just his fingers alone. He’d tease you with his breath hitting your lips, or grazing his mouth along your jaw, but he wouldn’t give you what you desperately wanted. 

This was a game to him. Bring you to the edge until you had no choice but to beg.

He added a third finger without so much of a thought, loving the way your walls clenched around him. Charles wished he didn’t have to use his fingers to fuck you, but he could be patient. He could play the long game tonight.

And then he stopped, his fingers deep inside you but refused to move them. You swallowed and attempted to rock your hips against his hand, but Charles wouldn’t budge.

“You’re too quiet,” he said, head slightly tilted. It was true, though. There were no helpless moans or whimpers coming from the back of your throat. No pleas to go faster, harder. You were biting your tongue and holding back.

It was because you didn’t want him to know how desperate you were. It was the last bit of pride you were holding onto, but you weren’t going to tell him that.

“Maybe you just don’t turn me on the way you used to.”

He laughed cruelly as he started his assault on your pussy again, curling his fingers and getting just the right angle, knowing what you said was bullshit. Charles smirked, “We both know that's a lie.”

“Fuck me,” Your head fell back against the wall, your legs were shaking. Charles was the only thing keeping you standing.

“Ask nicely and maybe I will.”

“I’m not asking you for anything.”

“That’s fine, mon amour,” Charles dragged his thumb over your clit and that familiar sensation started to build in your centre. “I will happily watch you cum all over my fingers again, and again, and again, until you forget your own name.”

He rammed his fingers in you again, picking up his pace. 

“Or better yet,” Charles left a delicate kiss right below your ear, applying more pressure to your clit, “Until you forget his name.”

That should not have been what did it for you, Charles dragging your relationship through the dirt, but the second those words left his mouth you were gone. 

Your orgasm hit you hard and fast. What was worse was the strangled moan you failed to keep back that was music to Charles’ ears. You pulsed around him and he continued to fuck you with his fingers through it all, not letting up until you were shaking and even then he just brought them to a halt and left them inside you.

Charles released the grip he had on you and your wrists were sore and tender. You didn’t have to look at them to know how red they were, and in all honesty, the pain you’d feel tomorrow was the last thing on your mind.

You were breathless, staring up at Charles and trembling each time one of his fingers brushed against your sensitive walls. He leaned forward, once again hovering his lips over yours, both of you wondering who would make the move to close the gap once and for all.

Him fingering you was one thing. It was pure sexual tension built up over the course of god knows how long. But by kissing him, this moment would become so much more intimate. Less lust, more desire. A kiss was supposed to be shared with the person you loved, it was supposed to make you feel safe and adored.

And you didn’t love Charles.

But you kissed him anyway.

With his hand still down your pants, you took that daring step to press your lips against his. It was rough and frantic and your tongues were clashing as you held onto the side of his face, relishing in the feeling of his stubble beneath your fingers.

Charles didn’t let you enjoy this for very long. He pulled back, keeping your jaw between his forefinger and thumb as he forced your mouth open. His thumb traced along your lower lip and as he slowly slid his fingers out of you, past your aching folds, you recognised the deviant look in his eyes. 

Charles brought his fingers, soaked with your juices, up to your lips. The sight of you licking yourself off of him turned him on more than anything else ever could. This was a mess he created and you were cleaning it up, without so much as a verbal instruction. 

He forced his fingers into your mouth, suppressing a moan when your tongue swirled around his digits. He could see the tears well up in yours as he pushed them as far back as his knuckles would allow, getting off on the control he held over you. 

That’s all it ever was. Charles needed to be in control. You wouldn’t have had a problem with that if that desire of his didn’t extend past the bedroom, but it always did. 

Charles pulled his fingers out of your mouth when he noticed you struggling to breathe around them. 

It was safe to say that neither of you what to do next. This wasn’t like all of the other times you fought and made up with sexual acts. You weren’t supposed to be his to fight with anymore. You shouldn’t have caved as quickly as you did. 

He wasn’t holding you anymore. Nothing was keeping you from pushing him away and heading towards the door. You could storm out of here and pretend like none of this happened, like your boyfriend's teammate wasn’t just knuckles deep inside of you. 

But you didn’t leave.

You stood with your back against the wall, eyes locked on Charles as the same thoughts ran through his mind. He didn’t want you to leave. The longer he kept you here, the more time you spent away from Carlos. Fuck Carlos, he thought. Fuck his teammate for stealing you from him. 

Charles still wanted to hear you beg. 

All it took was a microscope raise of his eyebrows and you knew you weren’t going anywhere. Charles feverishly reached for the hem of your shirt and pulled it off your body, swearing under his breath when he saw the red lace bra you had on. That you wore for Carlos. 

It had to go. 

Before he could rip the material off of you, you grabbed his shirt and peeled it off his body. If you were shirtless, it was only fair that he was too.

And then it was a race to see who could get the others clothes off fastest. Charles’ lips attacked your neck as he pushed your jeans down as much as he could, relying on you to step out of them and kick them to the side. You unzipped his joggers and he stepped out of them, hearing him groan when you palmed his painfully hard dick through his briefs. 

He cupped your panties, feeling how soaked you were through them. He had half a mind to fuck you against the wall, but he wasn’t going to give you what you wanted that easily.

Charles had to fight with himself to step away from you and when he did you were confused. You stood with your back against the wall as you watched him walk backwards towards the bed, the outline of his cock constricted against the thin material.

He sat on the edge of the bed, legs spread as they hung off the end of it. His palms rested against the blanket as he leaned backwards and nodded his head, gesturing you to follow.

And you did. Of course you did. Charles was intoxicating as much as he was toxic. You couldn’t get enough and for that reason alone, he would be the death of you. 

You stood between his legs, arms draped over his shoulders as Charles took in the sight of your body, your curves that he had had memorised, the red lace that was giving him a headache. 

He reached around you and unclasped your bra, throwing it to the side. Your fingers became tangled in his hair as he rolled one of your nipples between his fingers, pinching it until you moaned in pleasure, or pain, or both. 

Charles kept his hand on you, continuing to fondle and show attention to one of his favourite parts of you as he leaned forward, pressing a kiss to the spot right between your breasts. 

He was being uncharacteristically slow. Something that never lasted, but you didn’t let yourself think about it as Charles took your other nipple in his mouth, swirling his tongue around it like he had done so many times before. When he grazed his teeth over you, your knees momentarily buckled. You could feel the wetness pool between your legs again and you needed him to do something about it.

You dropped your knee to the edge of the bed, ready to straddle him, but Charles had other plans in mind. He stared up at you, devilishly handsome, dark hair pulled in all sorts of directions, an unruly sight that was making you want to drop to your knees.

And you probably would have, had he not spun you around and pulled you to sit on his lap. Charles could feel how wet you were as you soaked through your underwear and onto his bare thigh. He used one hand to force your legs apart as the other found your neck, not yet applying any sort of restraint but it was only a matter of time.

You were so focused on what Charles had in store for you that when he gave you a second to compose yourself, you found that you were staring directly at your own reflection. There was a mirror across from the bed. Charles wanted a show.

The sight of you settled on his thigh, his hand around your throat as the light caught the bulging muscles in his arm almost made you cum again. He was watching you, eyes glued to yours in the reflection.

“You’re going to ride me, chérie, understand?” Charles raised his lips to your ear, dragging his teeth over the lobe and you shivered in response. You could see his sly smile in the mirror, “You’re going to watch yourself as you get off just from my thigh.”

All you could do was nod. You weren’t in any position to argue, nor did you want to. 

So slowly, you started rocking your hips back and forth atop his leg, clenching where you could to feel any bit of friction. You found a steady pace, one that seemed to suffice as Charles watched silently, jaw locked and eyes never leaving yours. 

You wished you didn’t have your underwear on still, but that was half of the tease. Charles knew how desperate you were to feel his hard thigh against your folds, bringing you to the edge, but he also knew that you wouldn’t last if that was the case. He needed you to work for it. 

He grabbed your chin and roughly turned your face towards him, temporarily pulling your eyes off of the mirror. 

And then he was kissing you. Hot, open-mouthed kisses, his tongue diving inside of your mouth like he owned it. His suppressed groan only encouraged you to rock your hips faster, which you did. The ache between your legs was borderline painful as you became overstimulated, desperate to find that second high so soon after your first.  

Charles wasn’t going to help you at all. The most he did was trail his hand up your body, squeezing your breasts and tweaking your sensitive nipples until you cried out against his lips. Your body had been tense since you first stepped into his hotel room and now you were feeling all of your energy being sapped. And he hadn’t even fucked you. 

“Please,” your helpless whisper against his lips earned you a wicked smirk in response. 

“Please what?” 

His dick was rock hard against you and you wanted it inside of you. It wasn’t fair that he was making you wait for it when you knew he was just as desperate to fuck you. 

You hadn’t even noticed you stopped moving until Charles landed a light slap to your cheek, “I didn’t say you could stop.”

You fell into that rocking motion again. His grip on your breast was tight and it took all of you not to bury your face into his neck, knowing that you either had two choices. Look at him or look in the mirror. 

You opted for the mirror, looking at how dishevelled you were. Faded mascara under your eyes. Red marks on your neck from where Charles held his grip. The girl in the mirror was desperate for a release, swaying back and forth on Charles’ thick thigh.

It was the worst possible time for Charles’ phone to start ringing.

“Leave it,” your voice almost caught in your throat, but you were in no position to be making any demands. Charles kept one hand on you as he reached backwards, grabbing the phone he had left on his pillow before you showed up.

The glint in his eye was unmistakable. His smirk, mischievous. Usually Charles didn’t have a problem letting his calls go to voicemail, but he wasn’t about to do that and you knew why when you caught a glimpse of the screen, seeing your boyfriend's name on the caller ID.

Your heart sank to your stomach, but Charles sliding his hand towards your core was a good distraction.

“Don’t,” now you were begging, but for all the wrong reasons. “Don’t answer it, please.”

“It could be important,” Charles’ tongue slid across his teeth. “I suggest you stay quiet, mon amour.”

And then he answered it, bringing the phone up to his ear, “Carlos, what’s up?”

You probably could have stayed quiet had Charles not dropped his hands past the seam of the red lace once more. He wasted no time in rubbing his fingers over your clit and you inhaled a sharp breath, watching him with worried eyes through the reflection.

“I don’t even know why I’m asking,” you could hear Carlos through the receiver. You only hoped he couldn’t hear your staggered breathing, “but you don’t know where Y/N is, do you?”

Charles looked so calm and collected as he answered. You wanted to slap the smug expression off of him, “No, why would I know?”

It shouldn’t have surprised you how believable he sounded. Charles knew how to lie, he did it frequently throughout your relationship. This was the first time you were part of his lie.

And then he slipped his finger inside of you again, something that he wasn’t originally going to do, but with Carlos calling, he couldn’t pass up the opportunity. He wanted you to squirm, to make a sound, to do anything that Carlos would hear and leave him questioning when he hung up the phone.

You brought your hand to your mouth to silence yourself and Charles’ devious smile only grew. 

“She went out for a walk a while ago and she isn’t answering her phone now. I just want to make sure she's okay.”

You had completely abandoned your phone in your jacket pocket. It was sitting right by the door to the hotel room, forgotten about. 

“I’m sure she’s fine,” Charles plunged a second finger inside of you and started to scissor them. You bit the inside of your cheek so hard you could taste blood. Charles wasn’t going easy on you, he wanted you to be struggling right now. 

You had stopped rocking, trying to gain a little bit of control as Charles kept you angled against his chest to keep his fingers in you. He wanted to feel you dripping all over his thigh. He wanted his fingers to glisten when he pulled them out. 

“She could be lost-”

“Mate,” Charles cut him off harshly, simultaneously picking up the pace with his fingers. He so badly wanted to tell his teammate that you were safe, in good hands, falling apart on top of him. “Maybe it’s for the best. You’re better off without her.”

Leave it Charles to degrade you to your boyfriend while he rammed his fingers inside of you so hard you could feel it in your stomach. 

Carlos, bless his soul, you didn’t deserve him, scoffed into the phone, “Just let me know if you see her, okay?”

He pressed his thumb to your clit, meeting your stare in the mirror and taking a second before answering, just to bring you a little bit closer to the edge. Your legs were shaking, you could feel yourself climbing closer and closer to your release. Charles’ fingers in you, the attention he was giving your clit, the way he stared at you like he was challenging you to say something while he was on the phone, all of it was overwhelming in the best, and worst, ways. 

There was no singular thought in your mind except his fingers, and how good they felt, and how badly you wanted to cum. You clenched your walls around him and Charles momentarily forgot that Carlos was waiting for a response. The quietest groan passed his lips and he tried to cover it by clearing his throat.

“Yeah, will do,” Charles couldn’t hang up faster. He threw his phone to the side and focused all of his attention on your pussy. Dragging his fingers through your folds, rolling his thumb over your clit. 

With his other hand finally free, he raised it to your neck once more. You barely had time to take a breath before you could feel the sides of your windpipe becoming constricted under the pads of his fingers. The lack of oxygen gave you a headrush. Charles was taking complete control as you continued to sit on his lap and fuck his fingers for the second time, all while watching in the mirror. 

“You’re the worst,” you spoke through clenched teeth, dragging your hand up to tangle your fingers through the hair on the back of his head. 

Charles was unaffected by the words he had heard so many times before, “I told you to be quiet.”

A gasp left your mouth when he tightened his grip on your neck. You still attempted to find your voice “You- fuck, you didn’t want me to be quiet,” 

He chuckled, “You’re right.” 

His abuse on your clit became heavier as he pulled his fingers out of you agonisingly slowly. He nudged his leg against you, instructing you to get back to riding his thigh, you weren’t supposed to have stopped. 

“I can’t help it that I love the sounds you make for me,” he was practically growling. “I wanted Carlos to hear, he’s probably never heard them before.” 

You stayed quiet, feeling all logic leave you as it became increasingly harder to catch your breath or keep your eyes on him. 

Charles loosened his grip for a split second, just to give you a break, “Answer me when I talk to you. Carlos doesn’t know how to make you feel this good, does he?”

You shook your head, stammering out a quiet, “No.”

“Didn’t think so,” his hand tightened around your throat, constricting your airways once more.

The only sound that filled the room was your occasional whimpers between breathless moans of pleasure. Charles continued to praise you quietly in your ear, telling you how perfect you looked getting off from riding his thigh. It was the praise combined with his suffocating grip that brought you to edge but it was the way he feverishly rolled his thumb over your clit that pushed you over.

You came undone on his lap, your panties absolutely soaked as your pussy convulsed while waves of pleasure coursed through you. Charles let go of your throat and you leaned your head back against his shoulder, pulling on his hair as you rode out the rest of your high.

Charles waited a few seconds before taking your chin in his hand and turning you to face him. He pressed a soft kiss to your lips, it was one of those rare gentle moments you two shared between rounds. 

“You think you have one more in you?” He asked, barely moving his mouth from yours. You couldn’t speak, but you could nod and you felt his lips curve into a smile, “Good girl.”

He flipped you around and got you situated at the top of the bed, your head falling back onto the pillows. Charles finally discarded the last bit of red lace you wore, they were absolutely ruined at this point, and he pulled his briefs off as well. 

If you had the energy in you, you would have reached for him, attempted to give him a half-assed hand job or possibly taken him in your mouth, but all you could do was lay there and watch as he fisted his hand around his already hard cock.

Charles pushed your legs apart until you were on full display for him. You were staining the hotel sheets with how wet you were, not like either of you cared. 

None of this mattered, it was all fucking stupid. The way the two of you ended up crawling back to each other after eight months of moving on was stupid. The way you found yourself desperate for him to fuck you after fingering you twice was stupid. The way Charles wanted to stare at you just a little bit longer because he knew this opportunity would never come again was stupid. All of it. 

Charles shifted towards you, dropping his body on top of yours but using his arm to keep himself propped up. You could feel the tip of his dick run through your folds, teasing you, because that’s all he seemed to know how to do. 

“You shouldn’t have come back here,” Charles whispered, staring down at you with a look that was filled with lust and loss, a combination you hadn’t seen before with him. 

“You shouldn’t have let me in,” you retorted, not about to take the sole blame for the situation you found yourselves in. 

“I’ll always let you in.”

There it was. The sprinkle of good hidden beneath the cascading tsunami of bad. 

“Don’t say that,” you shook your head, swallowing when he inched his cock into you slowly, taking his goddamn time because he knew how much you hated it. 

“I mean it.” Charles’ voice was hoarse as you watched his features tighten. He pressed his forehead against yours, sliding out again right before you could feel all of him. “We could have been good together, Y/N, we could have worked through our problems. Instead you ran directly to Carlos.”

You didn’t entertain that idea for a second. The two of you would have never been on the right terms. Years of couples counselling couldn’t fix what went wrong. You were each other's worst nightmare, your own individual walking red flags that should have been avoided at all costs.

But that was Charles’ favourite colour and you looked the best in it. 

“Carlos loves me,” you said, which was most definitely the wrong thing to say as Charles dragged the tip of himself over your centre again. 

He laughed, of course he laughed. Carlos loved you and yet here you were, about to let your ex-boyfriend, Carlos’ teammate, fuck you because you couldn’t work out your issues in a healthy way.

“And where is he now, hmm?” Charles asked, eyes darting all over your face. “More importantly, why aren’t you with him, chérie?”

You didn’t have an answer. Which was better for Charles anyway. He didn’t want to give you the chance to change your mind about what was to come next.

With no warning, and a quick snap of his hips, he rammed his dick inside of you. Despite how many times he had fucked you before, you never seemed to get used to his size. Charles stretched you out, making you gasp in relief of the feeling of finally being full. You loved his fingers, but they just didn’t compare. 

“Carlos can’t fuck you like I can, that’s why,” Charles answered his own question as your nails grazed his back before clenching onto his bicep. He kept at this steady pace for less than a minute, watching as your face twisted in pleasure, but he didn’t want to get ahead of himself. 

Your back arched off the mattress when he pulled out suddenly. He would always fucking do this. 

“Charles,” you groaned, mostly due to annoyance but your tone carried a delicate plea. That’s what he wanted after all, for you to beg for him. You swallowed your pride, you had no choice, “Please.”

“Please, what?” 

You were throbbing for him and his dick teasing your entrance did nothing to help.

“For the love of God, Charles, just fuck me already.”

That was as close to a beg as he was going to get.

Charles slammed back into you, so hard and fast that a scream left your throat. God you hoped these walls were soundproof. He didn’t give you a chance to adjust as he began to thrust in and out.

Your body couldn’t take it after already coming twice. Your legs shook beneath him as you clawed his back, digging your nails so deep into his skin you wouldn’t be surprised if you drew blood. 

Charles knew your body, he knew what angles to go from to hit all the right spots. Searing pleasure mixed with the pain from overstimulation had you helpless, but this was what you wanted. 

You looked up at him, recognising the familiar animalistic stare in his eyes. Charles reached above you to grip onto the headboard, his pace never faltering. You don’t know what came over you as you brought your hand to his cheek, but you watched as his gaze softened for that brief second.

Charles liked it rough, but you still craved that bit of tenderness to balance it out. Even as you took your anger out on each other, you wanted to feel his lips on yours. You wanted to swallow his breaths and pretend that for a minute, everything was fine.

You pulled his face towards yours and kissed him before you could think twice about it. His tongue fought yours and you felt his thrusts becoming unsteady. A sound emerged from the back of his throat as you kissed him like there was no tomorrow and you swore you could have came for a third time right then. 

Charles dropped his face to your neck when he felt himself starting to experience something other than lust and jealousy. He didn’t want to be craving you again, he didn’t want to fall back into this cycle.

“I fucking hate what you do to me, you know that right?”

“I know,” you dragged your fingers through the hair on the back of his head, body quivering when he kissed the spot below your ear. “And you know I hate you, right?”

“Oh I know,” He accentuated his words with a particularly hard thrust that had you reeling and it was only a few seconds later when you were seeing stars for the third time that night.

Your orgasm was earth-shattering. Almost like the entire world around you paused while waves of euphoria crashed through your entire body. Charles continued to fuck you through your high as you screamed his name, holding his body tight against yours.

Your pussy clenched around him as you shook with pleasure. Everything about you felt numb as Charles continued his violent thrusts, the headboard banging against the wall. He didn’t plan on slowing down, desperate to fuck the literal living daylight out of you for one last time, before you had to return to Carlos.

His dick twitched inside of you, followed by a string of French and English expletives under his breath against your skin. And then he was cumming too, releasing everything he had inside of you.

His body shook before he collapsed on top of your already exhausted body. Your heavy breaths were synchronised as you loosened your grip on his hair, switching to gently twisting your fingers through the dark strands instead.

Charles hummed into the crook of your neck and you braced yourself as he pulled out, wincing at how empty, and sore, you suddenly felt. You half expected Charles to stand up and go to the bathroom to give you the opportunity to leave without saying anything. You wouldn’t have even been surprised if he was blunt and told you to go back to Carlos.

But he rested his head on the pillow next to yours after pulling the covers over your bodies. He then turned your face gently so he could admire you and your post orgasmic glow. All lust behind his eyes had faded, replaced by something else now. Something you were never able to put a name to, something you once convinced yourself was love.

It was longing. A yearning desire for what used to be, what could have been. He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, brushing his thumb against your cheek. 

You knew the right move would be to get up and leave. You fucked your anger out. Carlos was worried sick about you. You needed to leave. 

But you couldn’t bring yourself to. 

Not as you watched Charles’ eyelashes flutter softly until they closed, his hand still resting on the side of your face. You turned slightly to kiss the inside of his palm, and climbing out of bed did cross your mind. 

You probably would have, had Charles, in his half-asleep state, not muttered, “Stay.”

It wasn’t long until you fell asleep as well, the two of you facing each other throughout the duration of the night. At one point, his hand found your waist and that’s where it stayed. Charles lovingly touched you more in his sleep than he ever did while awake. 

You could have stayed in that bed for hours with him, but you had a rude awakening when you heard your phone ringing from the bedside table. Charles groaned, having woken up too, but he just waved the call off, letting you deal with it. 

Your eyes were still shut when your hand fumbled around the surface next to you until you found what you were looking for. You barely registered what you were doing or what time it was as you slid your finger across the screen to answer the call.

You cleared your throat, “Hello?”

“Y/N?”

Carlos saying your name in response jolted you awake. Your eyes widened when his accent flowed through the phone, the concern evident in the way he said your name.

“Carlos,” you sucked in a breath. “I-, I’m sorry, I was out-” you didn’t even know what time it was. You were struggling to come up with an excuse as to why you didn’t go back to the hotel room, something that he would believe, but nothing came to mind. “I didn’t- I mean-”

None of what you were saying made any sense, but as it would turn out, you didn’t need an excuse. There was a more pressing issue at hand. 

His heavy breath had your heart sinking to the pit of your stomach and you couldn't have prepared yourself for the next words to come out of his mouth.

“Why are you answering Charles’ phone?” 

this is so long im so sorry, if you made it this far..see u in hell

masterlist here

#charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x y/n #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc smut #f1 smut #f1 one shot #formula 1 x you #holllandtrash #nsfr #im so sorry #f1 requests #f1 #cl16 #cl16 x reader

[oscar-piastri]

#charles leclerc #f1 #f1edit #formula 1 #p: charles leclerc #nsfr #gifs* #*

[neverinadream]

T H R E E S T A R R A T E D S E X

Summary: You and Christian have your own arrangement when it comes to keeping casual sex just casual.

Pairing: Christian Pulisic x Fem!Reader

Requested: Nope

Song Inspo: Make Out With Me - Maren Morris

Warnings: the summary because it's shit, 18+, minors dni, smut, casual fling?, dom!christian, sub!reader, hints of cocky!christian, allusions to past encounters, pet names (baby, princess, good girl...), praise kink, a little bit of degradation (the reader is called a slut), bit of hair pulling, fingering, oral (m & f receiving), unprotected sex....

Notes: for my girlies in the gc!! i don't know what this is, the ending is shit, but i still sort of love it. this was also meant to he a whole lot shorter but i got carried away. as always, feedback is appreciated

"Be honest with me," he props himself up on his forearms, his body pressed against yours, his hard cock being gripped by the tight walls of your cunt, as he cages you underneath him, "is this the real reason why you really flew out to London? So you could see me?" He doesn't see you rolling your eyes, dipping to bury his head into your neck, kissing over the hickeys he had left there earlier that evening. A faint whimper slips off your lips, unable to resist the feeling of him sucking on the sweet spot behind your ear. "Answer me, princess," he encourages you to find your words, "you don't really have a job opportunity lined up, do you? You just missed this, didn't you? Missed shouting my name and taking this cock like the slut that we both know you are?"

"That head of yours has gotten far too big for your shoulders to carry," you respond, dragging your nails down the back of his head, stopping at the nape of his neck, "I don't just fly out to another country just for some boy." He scoffs at you for calling him a boy, mumbling into your neck about how he was a man. Truth be told, you did have a job opportunity lined up in the city; you were doing a bridal shoot for the daughter of some Lord. But that didn't mean you couldn't have just a smidgen of fun whilst you were here. And Christian just that. Your smidgen of fun. "You're just the starter before the main course."

Removing his arm, he wraps his hand around your neck, constricting his grip just tight enough to make the corners of your lips curl upwards into a wicked grin. He takes a deep, staggered breath as he feels you pulsate around him, your pussy clenching as his hand clenches around your neck. "I'm the starter, the main course and the desert, baby," he grunts, snapping his hips into yours, feeling himself burying deeper into you, "there's no one more delectable than me."

"Delectable?" You dig your nails into the back of his neck, your grin widening as you listen to the string of curses being spilt under his breath. "That's a big word for you," you tease, moaning as he silences you with a tighter grip.

"Speaking of delectable things," he mumbles, pulling out with a hushed grunt and releasing your neck. His mouth moves lazily across your chest, leaving a line of his own saliva as he licks between the valley of your breasts. Your back lifts away from the sofa as he pinches your nipple between his finger and thumb, rolling and twisting it until the pain feels pleasurable to you. "I've missed having my head between these thighs," he nips his teeth at the inside of your thigh, his beard grazing and scratching you, "so gorgeous and soft for me. And this pussy, too. So pretty and dripping wet for me. You're practically making a mess everywhere, baby, on my cock, on my sofa, all over the tops of your thighs. Has it been that long since someone gave it to you as good as me?"

You don't answer, silenced and ridden of your ability to talk as he collides his tongue against your pussy, licking up and down between your swollen lips, swirling it around your clit, and tasting every bit of you as your wetness pools onto his tongue. His noises were obscene, animalistic even, groaning every time he slipped his tongue inside you while nipping, slurping, and eating every inch of you like he was eating his last meal. "More," you bite your bottom lip and buck your hips into his mouth. You whimper as he pins your hips, pushing you harder into the sofa to stop you from moving.

"What is it, baby?" He asks, licking his lips as he pulls away. His mouth and chin were glistening under his living room lights, making you moan at the visible evidence of yourself on him. "Tell me what you need," he encourages, placing a soft kiss against your hip, "I can't give you what you want, if you don't tell me what is that you want."

"Your fingers," you tell him, bringing his hand to your mouth, sucking on his fingers until they are wet enough. His cock twitches as he watches your fingers repeatedly disappear into your mouth, reminding him how much he had missed the feeling of those very same lips wrapped around his cock. "I need to feel them inside me."

He brings his fingers down to touch your pussy, slowly rubbing them against your clit in a circular motion, chuckling as you squirm below him. "You want me to stuff you with my fingers, baby?" You nod your head with an eagerness he deemed as being far too adorable and a whole lot of desperation. "Fine, I'll give you my fingers if you promise to cum in my mouth," he negotiates, teasing your entrance, "you can do that for me, can't you? Be a good girl and do as you're told?"

"Yes," you answer, sitting up on your elbows. He grins, letting you watch as his fingers disappear inside you. "Oh, god," you moan at the pleasure you were feeling as he fucked you slowly with two fingers.

"There's no god in this room, princess, just me," he replies, burying his mouth into your cunt, wrapping his lips around and sucking on your clit. You chanted his name like a prayer as he buried his fingers deeper inside, curling them to reach the spot he knew would leave you gasping and grasping at the edge of the sofa. "That's it, baby," he encourages, groaning as your taste floods his mouth, "just fucking cum on my mouth. Come on, now, be a good girl and do as I fucking tell you to!"

"Fuck, Christian, don't stop!" You cry, fisting one hand into his hair, the other grasping at the cushion underneath your hips. With your thighs trembling and your stomach clenching, you throw your head back, crying out his name again and again. "Shit, I'm gonna cum," you warn, squirming your hip, trying to buck them up into his mouth, "shit, shit, sh…"

"That's it! That's my good fucking girl!" He praises, watching as your body trembles, grunting and groaning as he feels you pulsate and tighten around his fingers. "Just a good fucking slut, aren't you?" He places soft kisses against your hips, lazily trailing them up your body as he moved in search of your lips. "Taking my fingers, swallowing them up inside your cunt, and squeezing them like a whore." You whimper, feeling the emptiness as he removes his fingers and dances them across your bottom lip. "You know the rules," he whispers, watching you intently and pushing his fingers past your lips, "you make a mess, you clean it up."

Wrapping your hand around his tattooed wrist, you push his fingers deep into the back of your throat, gagging and spluttering around them. He groans, biting his bottom lip and pushes them deeper until he starts to feel resistance. That's it. He'd had enough of the teasing and needed to feel your lips wrapped around his throbbing cock.

Without warning, he rips his fingers back, a trail of spit still connecting you both together. "My turn," he stands to his feet, running his dry hand through his own hair, fixing the mess you had caused, "get on your knees, baby, I want to see if that throat still feels the same as I remember."

He's already groaning as you wrap your hand around the base of his shaft, watching you with lust drunk eyes as you just take the tip into your mouth. "Come on, no teasing," he orders, resting his hand on the back of your head, "let me see you take it all." Gazing up at him, you give in to him, breathing through your nose and relaxing your jaw as you take as much as you can into your mouth. He grunts, feeling himself already hitting the back of your throat. "What's the matter, princess?" He chuckles, pushing down onto your head. "Is it too big for my good girl to handle?"

You pull off, shaking your head and pumping him in your hand. "Big?" You goad, swirling your tongue around his tip, running along the slit. "Is that what they tell you? That it's the biggest cock they've ever taken?"

"I know it's the biggest cock you've ever taken," he fires back, suppressing a moan as you use your free hand to massage his balls the way you knew he liked, "you wouldn't keep coming back to me, if it wasn't."

"I come back to you?" You laugh, speeding up the way you twisted and jerked your hand over his shaft. He grunts, bucking his hips as you squeeze your hand around his tip. "That's funny, because weren't you the one who came to me last time? And the time before that?" He rolls his eyes, trying not to break his demeanour. "It sounds like you're the one who comes back to me."

"Well, no one will suck my cock the way you do," he replies, digging his fingers harder into the back of your head, and groaning as you lick your tongue along the underside of his shaft. His head rolls back at the feeling of you taking him back into his mouth, grunting as you start to bob your head at constant, steady pace. "Only sluts suck cock the way you do," he pushes you down, feeling his cock twitching in your mouth every time you gagged around him, "god, baby, keep doing that!"

"Gonna paint my throat white, baby?" You catch your breath, feeling him twitching in the palm of your hand.

"And leave those perfect tits untouched?" He shakes his head, his chest heaving as he swallows a deep breath. His stomach clenches, grunting as his hips snapped forwards to meet each of your strokes. "Keep stroking me like that," he encourages through partial groans and a whole lot of grunts, "that's a good girl! That's a good fucking slut! My good fucking slut!" Ropes of cum cover your chest and your hand as he finds himself cumming for you, crying your name out between broken grunts. You giggle at the grin he gives you, his cheeks darkening as a partial flicker of softness flashes in his eyes. "Just take it," he throws his head back, knees buckling as pleasure continues to shoot up his spine, "take my fucking cum. Take it all."

Your naked, clammy bodies collapse back onto the sofa, the two of you only laughing as you catch a glimpse of each other out of the corner of your eyes.

"Give me a second and I'll grab you a towel," Christian tells you, reaching to grab his boxes dangling off the arm. He moves towards you, your thong hanging from his finger, moving them out of your reach as you try to grab them. "Though you do look very pretty painted in my cum," he catches your lips with his own, putting your panties in your hands when he pulls away.

"What time is it?" You ask, looking around his living room for your phone.

"Why?" He replies, kissing along your shoulder, groaning as you move out from underneath him.

"Because I have a check in to make."

He sits back, lifting his hips as he pulls his boxes on. "I don't know why you just don't stay in my spare room," he throws out, finding your phone hidden under his shirt, "or even my own bed."

"That's exactly why I don't stay here," you take your phone from him, smiling when you see you still had some time left before you were needed at your hotel.

"You say that like it's a bad thing," he chuckles, adding a comment about going to fetch you that warm cloth he had promised, "but we both know you'd like a personal, on the house, stay at Hotel Pulisic."

"Unfortunately, I only stay in five star rated hotels," you call after him, giggling like an idiot, "and I've heard Hotel Pulisic is only rated three. Something about poor service."

He emerges quickly from his kitchen, the warm cloth in his hand. His touch is gentle as he wipes the cloth over your skin, obeying his own rule and cleaning up the mess he had created. "That was definitely not three-star rated sex," he adds to the joke, holding your hip with his free hand. You feel compelled to touch his tattooed arm, tracing the ink with your thumb. "You get perfect service every single time."

----

F O O T B A L L E R T A G L I S T

@shanoontje @maseandkepa @theblxefox @blueathens  @ofxinnocence @1-800-benji-chilwell @mrschilly @geek-and-proud @in-my-body-bag @laurasstufff1 @mountchilly @spicysainz @greykitkepa @thoseboysinblue @dinonuggiesforliferz @lizzypotter14 @bracedes @chelseagirl98 @notsoattractivearenti @swimmingismywholelife @lovelynikol16 @masonsrem @masonspulisic

#christian pulisic #christian pulisic imagine #christian pulisic smut #christian pulisic blurb #christian pulisic one shot #christian pulisic fic #christian pulisic x reader #nsfr

[crabsnpersimmons]

Happy birthday!! I hope u enjoy ur special day!

unfortunately it's not my birthday, dear anon

which means it's my unbirthday!! huzzah!

(featuring @ren-054's Hatter Sun, Alice, and Cheshire Moon from their Alice in Wonderland AU, go check out their art, they're amazing!!)

i will enjoy this special day! and i will treat myself to a cake! thank you, dear anon! happy unbirthday to you too! i hope you take some time to treat yourself too!

picture of my cake under the cut, to be respectful during Ramadan:

wonderful timing, anon! i actually have some cake to eat! it was my uncle's birthday recently, so i have a smaller cake made of leftovers:

it's just made from the cut off top and bottom of the real cake, that's why it looks so thin and why the strawberry is so disproportionately big 😂 it was still delicious tho!

here's a photo of the actual cake for my uncle's birthday:

it was a kid-friendly tiramisu! so basically a chocolate cake with cream cheese frosting.

all credit goes to my mom, all i did to help was eating 😋

#ask the crab #fnaf sun #fnaf moon #aiw au #hatter sun #cheshire moon #alice in wonderland au #haha this ask caught me off guard #because it came on the day i was celebrating my uncle's birthday #but hey it reminded me to enjoy my day and gave me an excuse to eat cake! i'll take it! #well i had leftovers already in the fridge but this reminded me to eat them! #and draw some fanart for this super cute AU #go check out ren's art they're amazing! #food #nsfr #bright colours

[mikaikaika]

Etoiles said "Tubbo I think you're a scissors guy" and Aimsey gestured to chat saying "like me" 😭😭😭

#What are they on lmao #Suggestive #Nsfr #I guess #Aimsey #Tubbo #Qpurgatory 2 #Qpurgatory2 #Etoiles #Banger qsmp lines

[freedomfireflies]

Pillow Talk*

Summary: The one where you and Harry both have insomnia, and decide to spend one very strange night together.

Word Count: 7.2k

Content Warning: 18+, smut, daddy kink, mentions of drugs, angst (w/ happy ending!), not suitable for Ramadan!

“Oh, absolutely not.”

“Come on. Just one time.”

“No. Are you out of your fucking mind?”

“Probably. I haven’t slept in 32 hours.”

You huff as you hide yourself behind your door. You don’t even want to see him. Because you don’t want to have this conversation or entertain this idiotic idea. This is what Harry does. He plays games. He tricks and he ruins and if you open this door, you know you’ll regret it. 

“Poppy, please,” he calls, and you hear his forehead land on the wood as though to brace himself. “I’ve tried everything else, okay? It always works with you. I just…I wanted to try. See if it still does.”

You frown. “You realize how wildly inappropriate this is, right? Asking if you can come in just so we can sleep together?”

“Yeah, but that’s all I want to do. Sleep,” he insists again. “Really. I’ll keep my hands to myself and I won’t even talk to you.”

You consider this. Truthfully, you haven’t slept all that well since the breakup, either. And sure, you’ve longed for the nights when the two of you would fall into such an easy, simple, and incredibly effective routine. 

But he broke your heart. And now you’re both paying the price.

“Just one night,” he pleads again. “And if it doesn’t work, I swear I won’t bother you ever again.”

There’s a subtle ache in your chest. Just hearing his voice reminds you of the pain. Of the joy. Of every good moment and every bad one, all wrapped up in the same silky cadence.

You take a deep breath. Perhaps you’re curious, too. Even if you don’t want to be. Because maybe this will work. Maybe you’ll finally be able to rest and get on with your life.

Or maybe it won’t.

But at least if it doesn’t, maybe you can find some closure.

So, with that thought…you open the door. 

He looks worse than you’ve ever seen him. Which makes you just a touch happy if you’re being honest with yourself. His usual curls are askew and unkept. The bags under his eyes are dark and his clothes are wildly wrinkled.

And you’re surprised. He’s been up for longer than 32 hours before and handled it much better. You wonder if his age is catching up with him or if there’s something else keeping him awake.

It wouldn’t be the first time.

But you don’t fight with him. He’s not here to fight and you accept his terms as you widen the door and allow him to step inside.

He nods gratefully as he slips into your living room, but his eyes linger on your face. Almost like he doesn’t recognize you, and it makes your insides turn as you shut the door and put a few feet between you.

“What?” you huff.

He shakes his head. “I don’t know, you look…different.”

“Okay…?”

“You changed your hair.”

“Yeah.”

“Hm. It’s nice.”

You cross your arms. “Thanks.”

“Sure.”

Another pause, and the silence feels heavy.

“Well…do you wanna…?” you eventually say, and he nods.

“Right, yeah.”

“Okay.”

You turn to lead him to your room and it’s…unsettling how normal it feels. Like an old habit rearing its ugly head once again.

When you get there, his surprise returns. “You changed your room, too.”

“Yeah.”

“Oh. Why?”

Your eyes roll as you angrily toss your blankets back. “This is the one room I associated with you the most. And short of moving, I needed something you hadn’t touched or tainted. So I made the room mine again.”

He thinks about this, attention lingering on the new paint on the walls and the new furniture in each corner. “I like it.”

“I don’t care.”

He smiles. “I know.”

“Great. Can you get in the bed please so we can get this over with?”

Obliging, he slips off his shoes and joins you under the duvet. “Never thought I’d hear you say that again.”

“Never thought I’d have to say it.”

“Mm. You changed your mattress.”

“Obviously.”

“And the sheets and blankets, too.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Is there anything in here you didn’t change?”

“The carpet. But only because my landlord said I couldn’t.”

“Right.” He’s smiling again. “But you did get a rug.”

“Yeah.”

“It’s nice.”

“Bite me.”

He laughs now and you want to smack him. “I see you still get grumpy when you’re tired.”

“No, I get grumpy when my asshole of an ex shows up to my apartment at 3 in the morning demanding to be let in so he can sleep in my bed with me like a fucking child,” you argue. And you know you’re being snippy and maybe even rude, but he deserves it. After everything he’s put you through, you deserve to be in charge of your own emotions. 

You turn the lamp off and the dark room grows incredibly quiet. You’re both stiff, unable to relax when you’re this close. You don’t want to touch—not the way you used to. And you don’t want to be close or let your guard down, although you suppose you’ll have to in order to sleep.

And then he says, “I really did try, you know. To find another way to sleep.”

You look up at the ceiling and release a soft exhale. “Okay.”

“Melatonin, light therapy, cut out coffee. Even drank those…sleep mocktail things everyone talks about.” He shifts. “I don’t know, I guess my brain just wouldn’t turn off.”

“Yeah. I know.”

More quiet.

“I haven’t done any since we broke up,” he finally says. Gentle, like he’s afraid to break the silence. 

Your lashes flutter. He doesn’t have to say it for you to know what he means. “Great.”

“Yeah.” Another beat. “I thought it was work, I guess. Maybe the stress or something. I’ve been sleeping fine, but these past couple weeks…”

“Right.”

“And I just figured—”

“No, I got it. It’s fine, let’s just…let’s just try to sleep,” you say and he nods.

The bedroom settles and you try, you really do. But you can’t when he’s breathing so goddamn loud and shifting every two seconds and sighing like he’s in pain.

“What?” you eventually hiss.

“Are you dating someone?” he asks.

“What?”

“Are you dating someone?” he repeats. “Josie said you were.”

You hesitate. “I don’t know. Kind of. I guess.”

“You guess?”

“We’re…we’ve been on a few dates. It’s not official.”

“He hasn’t asked you to be his girlfriend?”

“Why does it matter?”

“I don’t know. It doesn’t. I just figure you deserve someone that actually wants to date you.”

“Oh, do I?” You roll your head to look at him. “Funny, you didn’t seem to think so when you were dating me.”

“All right, touché,” he mumbles. “I could have been better, I know that. And I know I took advantage. You did a lot for me and I didn’t…I didn’t care.”

Surprised, you twist your fingers together. “Uh…yeah. Right. Thank you.”

His head rolls, too. And even with the dim-light, his eyes find yours. “I’m sorry, Poppy. You really did deserve better than me. And if you found it with this guy…I’ll be happy for you.”

You swallow before sighing to yourself. “I mean, I don’t know if I did. He’s…he’s really nice. But he’s so…he’s just…”

“Vanilla?”

Your eyes widen. “Yeah. How did you—”

“He was wearing Crocs with tube socks.”

You laugh—loud. “Oh my god, how did you know?”

“I might have looked him up,” he admits through a grin. “Wanted to make sure he was worth your time.”

“Yeah? And?”

“And he wears Crocs with tube socks. He can’t make you cum.”

Your features scrunch together as you gasp and look away. “Ew, Harry. It’s not about that—”

“It’s always about that. Come on, am I wrong?”

“You—yes. What he wears has nothing to do with what he’s like in bed—”

“So he’s not vanilla?”

“He’s…” You pause. “He…look, he really tries—”

“So, he is,” Harry finishes for you. “Well, at least you got some.”

“I…yeah. Uh-huh.”

Instantly, he turns onto his side, head resting in the palm of his hand as he studies you. “He couldn’t get it up, could he?”

“Harry,” you groan, and reach out to swat him. “Stop, it wasn’t that. We just…we were taking things slow. We did some stuff. Just not…all of it.”

“So what he’d do?”

“Harry—”

“Come on, we’re adults, just tell me.”

“Ew, no—”

“Listen, you used to get fucked good. I’m just trying to help you get back to that.”

You frown but do oblige. “I don’t know. He ate me out and I blew him. That’s it.”

“And…?”

“And…I don’t know. He was fine. He was good.”

“Sure.”

Your eyes roll. “Okay, he…he wasn’t really all that into it. He stopped after a few seconds and asked if I came. Then he said his jaw was tired and that maybe we should just switch.”

Now, Harry’s features scrunch, too. “Shit. What a fucking pussy. Ironically.”

“I guess. It could have been worse.”

“Really? Eating you out was always my favorite. What kind of asshole just stops if he doesn’t have to?”

You feel a rush of heat through your body as you look away. “I guess they can’t all be you.”

“Damn fucking right,” he scoffs. “Seriously, you still wanted to see him after that?”

“He’s cute,” you argue. “And nice. And yeah, maybe he’s not that adventurous but that’s okay. I don’t need wild sex all the time.”

He’s quiet. “How about just one time?”

You turn back. “What?”

“I—okay, I was just thinking…you know, one of the things we would do when we couldn’t sleep was…fuck, so—”

“Oh, absolutely not.” You sit up, as though to put some distance between you. “No. Forget it—”

“Poppy—”

“Don’t call me that,” you huff. “You don’t get to call me that ever again. Okay, I’m not gonna fuck you just so we can sleep—”

“It wouldn’t be just for that,” he argues, sitting up as well. “It would also help your mood, too—”

“Oh, my mood?” You glare at him. “My mood is just fine, actually. In fact, I’d say it’s pretty good if I agreed to let you in my apartment in the first place—”

“You didn’t have to. I’m just saying, if sex with him is gonna be bland, might as well get in one last good fuck before you commit to a lifetime of boring—”

“Oh, my god. It’s not a lifetime and you’re a fucking asshole—”

“Yeah. We’ve established that. Doesn’t change the fact that you need it.”

You stare at him. “Is that why you’re really here? To trick me into sleeping with you?”

He leans back. “What? No. I don’t trick people into having sex, it was just a suggestion—”

“Yeah, a pretty dumb one. Did you honestly think I’d say yes?”

“Yeah,” he admits haughtily. “Yeah, because we didn’t break up over the sex. We broke up because you’re an uptight—”

“What? Say it,” you sneer. “Say it. I’m an uptight bitch because I wouldn’t let you do cocaine.”

He scoffs again and looks off into the dark of your room. The argument lulls. “I could never do anything right.”

“That wasn’t the problem and you know it.” You pull your legs to your chest. “I wanted to move forward and you kept going back. You’re almost 30 and you still act like you’re 19.”

“Maybe I didn’t want to get married and do the whole white picket fence life,” he says. “Maybe I liked things the way they were—”

“No. No, you liked parties with your friends and doing drugs that kept you up for hours  and getting fired and leaving me to pay all the bills—”

“You didn’t pay all the bills and I told you I would do what I could to help—”

“Yeah. But apparently that included getting fucked up and staying out all night just to crash the next day.” You study him closely. “You were never around anymore. I never saw you. We were on two different paths and the only time we ever talked was when you asked if I wanted to fuck.”

“So, that’s it, huh? I’m just a villain in your story. You were this perfect fucking princess, and I was a monster that ruined your life?”

“No, obviously not. I wasn’t perfect. I know that.”

“Do you?” His eyes flick between yours. “You didn’t want me to move forward with you. You liked your new job and your new friends because they didn’t remind you of me. Of who we both used to be.”

“So? I’m not proud of what I used to do. And sure, maybe I wanted to make a better impression on the people paying my salary and keeping me employed. Is that such a fucking crime?”

“No. But you didn’t want me to be a part of that impression and you know it.”

“Right. Because you were shit-faced all the time.”

He opens his mouth, ready to retort. But then he closes it. He closes it and he stares at you and then…he surges forward.

Even if you were given at least two seconds to prepare, you’re not prepared for the way his hands feel on your cheeks as he kisses you. As he presses his lips to yours and steals the labored breaths in your lungs.

But you don’t fight him. You know you should. Know you should push him off and berate him. Yet you let him kiss you. And you kiss him back. And it’s far too easy to slip back into this routine as his tongue slides against yours in such a teasing way.

Your stomach flips while your hands land on his lap. You’re desperate to be closer, to feel his body against yours. His skin, and the way it melts beneath your palms like butter. You dance this devious dance and before you know it, you’re stripping each other of the few clothes you have.

He starts with your shirt. Ripping it over your head before his mouth lands on your chest. Bare and beautiful to him. His kisses are wet and sloppy and you arch yourself closer as you drag your fingers down his scalp.

The only reason he stops is to let you peel his t-shirt off, too. And then his jeans and socks. And you move so fluidly, you’re nearly naked in under a minute. The only thing left between you now his underwear and yours.

He lays you down, gentle. Surprisingly gentle, given the anger that brought you here. And he gazes at you in a soft, unspoken way that says everything you don’t exactly know how to say. 

His fingers brush down your cheek as his body settles atop yours. He still fits between your legs like he was always meant to and the weight of him almost feels good.

“Are you all right?” he finally whispers, and he doesn’t sound like the same man from before. He sounds like the man you fell in love with. “Is this okay?”

You nod quickly, scared that if you think about it, you’ll ruin it. “Yeah. Go.”

He doesn’t. “We don’t have to,” he says. “You were right, it’s probably a dumb idea—”

“Yeah, but…it always works.” You shift beneath him and reach for his briefs, rolling them down his hips. “And I’m tired. Tired of fighting with you, tired of not getting any sleep…tired of pretending I hate you. You were right, our sex is good. So let’s do it. And then we can sleep. And we can finally move on.”

Not the most romantic of speeches, but it works. At least right now. He kisses you again and drags your underwear aside in order to tease you with the tip of his cock.

He feels like you remember. And maybe you find just a touch of comfort in that. There are no awkward pauses or confusion about what to do next. You don’t have to find your rhythm or anticipate the next step. You know him. And he knows you.

Your rub your clit in order to stimulate yourself. You aren’t exactly wet enough for this to be enjoyable, but you don’t expect him to do what he did before. The foreplay is up to you now and you’re more than all right with that.

However, he’s not. And he instantly swats your hand away in order to do it himself. Allowing his fingers to drag up and down your pussy until you shiver before he slips the tip of his middle finger inside.

“Shit,” he whispers. His forehead drops to yours. “Fucking missed this.”

You bite the inside of your lip to keep from grinning. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He starts to pump, bending your body to his salacious intentions until the unmistakable sound of wetness echoes throughout the room. “I know you missed it, too.”

“Hm. Don’t push it.”

“Why not?” He presses a kiss to your cheek. Then to your jaw. Your lips. Your nose. Your neck. Everywhere you used to love. “Are you really gonna tell me you didn’t?” 

“Maybe.”

“So Crocs with Tube Socks is better, huh?”

“…not exactly.”

“Right.” He adds a second finger and your eyes roll back. “Don’t worry, Poppy, I’ll fix it.”

“Don’t…call me that,” you pant again, and he chuckles.

“Don’t know what else to call you. You were always my pretty Poppy.”

“But now I’m not,” you say. “Now you call me nothing. Because I’m not yours to call.”

He sighs but does seem to obey, at least for now. And the faster he thrusts his hand, the needier this growing feeling becomes. Stronger and louder until you finally grab onto his shoulders and say, “Just put it in already.”

He smirks. “How romantic.”

“It’s not supposed to be. Just come on.”

So, he does. He takes hold of his cock and he slips it through the gathering arousal until he can push in. And you both reel.

Truthfully, you’ve missed the sounds he makes when he’s turned on. The way he groans and grits his teeth together. The way the muscles in his arms strain until you can see those beautiful veins you used to love to run your tongue over. 

He’s stunning. Even now, in the soft light of the moon through your curtains. His silhouette is unholy as it hovers above you. Strong hips beginning to thrust as you both work in tandem to find release.

And it’s closer than you expected. There’s something about him that can get you there even without much effort. Something Crocs with Tube Socks could never seem to figure out. 

Because he’s not Harry. And only Harry can play you like an instrument and make such symphonic music all with the flick of his finger and a thrust of his cock.

He kisses you again and you both feel anxious. Soft murmurings of praise and, “Keep going,” that have you arching from the bed and moaning into his mouth.

You’re sweating and gasping for air and clutching onto his back as you attempt to meet his rhythm with rolls of your own. You need this. You need to cum so you can find release and you need to cum so you can finally sleep and you need to cum because then you’ll finally be able to let him go. To close the door on the chapter of you and Harry and move the fuck on.

But how can you move on when you’re still under him? How can you insist that you’re fine and doing great if you’re so easily convinced to fuck him just so you can both get some sleep?

There are other remedies to insomnia that don’t involve his cock and maybe you should have tried that before you let him into your apartment. 

Either way, you’re coming before you can think twice about it. Raking your nails down his back and whimpering his name as he pulls out and finishes on your thigh. 

And just like that…

It’s over.

You find him in the kitchen about an hour later. You managed to sleep at least a few minutes before you felt the sadistic hand of insomnia pull you back out. But when you woke, Harry was gone. His clothes were still on the floor, so you knew he hadn’t left. But he wasn’t with you.

He’s staring out your kitchen window when you slip into the living room. You’re not sure if he hears you or not but if he does, he doesn’t acknowledge it. Instead, he keeps himself braced against the sink, clad in nothing more than his briefs.

Curious, you call, “What’s wrong?”

He shakes his head. Silent. Contemplative. “I used to love this window,” he eventually says. Soft, like he’s reminiscing. “The way the light looked in the morning. The way your little crystals would put rainbows on the wall and you’d get so excited. How you’d make me dance with you to some Elton John song while we were literally in the middle of cooking.”

You blink. “Um…okay.”

He turns and his eyes find yours. “I fucking loved this apartment. And this kitchen. And that couch. And your room. And even the hallway. I loved being here, all the time. I hated going back to my place because it never felt the same.”

The silence grows louder now as you look down at your feet and pull your robe just a bit tighter. “I know,” you finally whisper. “That’s why I changed it.”

“I know,” he whispers back. His expression falls. “You changed everything. This apartment, your life…us.”

“Because I had to,” you argue, glancing back up. “I had to, Harry. I couldn’t keep going in circles. I couldn’t drag you along behind me into the future when you clearly wanted to be anywhere else.” 

“Because the future you always painted didn’t seem to have room for me,” he huffs. “Okay, with all these dinner parties and fancy houses and good school districts. You’d planned out the next 30 years and I didn’t see myself anywhere in your picture.”

“I didn’t fucking care about the parties or the school districts,” you nearly yell. “God, I—I didn’t want the white picket fence life. I didn’t want the 1950’s American Dream shit you keep thinking I did. I just wanted you. Yes, I wanted a good job with insurance and stability. But I wasn’t gonna trade what we had just for that—”

“But you did. You didn’t tell your parents we’d moved in together. You didn’t even tell half of our friends. You went on trips without me and you stopped telling me about your day and we never talked—”

“Because you were never around! You were either out with your friends getting drunk or high or you were in there playing video games because you’d had a ‘hard day.’ So, no. I didn’t want to talk to you when I knew you weren’t even listening in the first place.”

 He leans against the counter and crosses his arms. Angry. Indignant. “You resented me. You resented the fact that we were together and you resented that I wasn’t perfect like your precious new friends—”

“Oh, that’s—” You pinch the bridge of your nose and force in a deep breath. “No. I didn’t want you to be like them. I didn’t want you to act pretentious and stuffy and talk about the stock market every goddamn second of the day. The only thing I resented…was the fact that you wouldn’t take care of yourself.”

“I was taking care of myself—”

“Bullshit. You were doing drugs—you were doing cocaine—and you weren’t eating, you weren’t sleeping, you nearly drunk yourself to death—”

“Right, but I wasn’t doing it all the time. It was just…it was occasionally, and it wasn’t a lot—”

“I don’t care. You shouldn’t have been doing it at all, Harry,” you finally shout. “You…you scared the shit out of me. Every time one of your friends would call and say you were passed out, I thought…I thought this was it. I thought I was gonna lose you. Do you know how many times I just sat on the floor and cried because I was so scared? Because you never wanted to listen when I told you to stop? Because you were so sure you were invincible?”

He seems pained by this, features wilting as he takes a tentative step forward. But he stops when you move back. “Poppy, I wasn’t trying to scare you, I…I didn’t know—”

“Yes, you did,” you scoff. “I told you, over and over that I didn’t want to lose you, but you thought I was being dramatic.”

He nods once. “I know, I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry?”

“Yeah. I am.” He looks at you. “S’why I stopped after we broke up. You were right, I needed to get my shit together.”

You nod, too. “Good. I’m glad.”

His gaze dances around the kitchen. “I hate that you changed everything,” he says again, and your heart wrenches. “I hate that it doesn’t look like it used to. I hate that I hurt you so bad that you felt like you had to erase everything I ever touched.”

You step closer and wipe a tear from your cheek. “Yeah, I hate it, too. I hate that I had to. I hate that stupid mattress and I hate that my kitchen doesn’t look like a rainbow anymore and I really fucking hate that I have no one to dance with when I cook.”

His eyes soften as they find yours and in only a few seconds, he’s reaching for the belt on your robe and tugging you to him. Wrapping you in his arms as he presses you against his chest, the way he always used to when you were sad.

“No,” you argue weakly, although you do nothing to stop him. “No, you can’t…you can’t—”

“Yes, I can,” he retorts quietly. You feel his lips press to the top of your head. “You don’t get to cry over me anymore. You’re better than that now. You did what I couldn’t. You moved on. And I don’t get to ruin that for you.”

You sniffle as you run your hand down his stomach. “It wasn’t about moving on. I just needed to learn how to be strong enough for both of us.”

“Poppy,” he breathes and holds you tighter. “You shouldn’t have to be.”

And deep down…you know he’s right.

“Shit, just like that…a little closer. Good girl, hold yourself open for me, baby. Yeah.”

Doing your best to oblige, you slip your fingers between your folds as Harry nudges his nose closer. Kissing his way along your thighs before allowing his tongue to lick a very generous stripe up your pussy.

Round 2 is on the couch. Harry wanted the kitchen counter—nearly insisted on it, in fact—but you knew you didn’t want to ruin your favorite breakfast spot. And you weren’t about to just for him.

So, the couch it was. He complained about it as you got settled. He hates this new couch, too. The color, the lumpy cushions, the way it feels like you’re sinking when you sit. 

You told him you didn’t care. You loved it and if it annoyed him, that was a bonus.

Thankfully, he swallowed his complaints in favor of swallowing you. He tossed your robe open and pulled your thighs apart. And then he buried himself between the warmth of your pussy the way he always used to.

And you decided that maybe you don’t mind insomnia so much if this is the remedy.

“Missed this, too,” he says now as he nips at your clit. “God, you’ve always tasted so fucking good. S’fucking crazy, baby. Can’t ever get enough.”

“Sure,” you snort, head dropping back. “I’m sure you say that to all the girls—”

“No.” He shakes his head and his nose nudges the sensitive nerves as you whine. “No, there’s no other girls. Come on, did you really think there could be?”

“With a mouth like that? Yeah,” you admit. He laughs. “That’s how we met. You were such—fuck—such a player.”

“Maybe,” he concedes before mouthing at you again. “But nobody else has ever made me feel the way you do.”

You snort. “Where’d you learn that line?”

“It’s not a line. It’s the truth.”

“Harry. Come on. I know you.”

“Then you should know I don’t say shit I don’t mean.” He smooths his palms down your thighs in order to spread you just a bit further and see the way your hole flutters. “Oh, pretty girl. S’just drenched, hm? All sensitive from the last one…need Daddy to make it better?”

You scrunch your nose. “You don’t get to call yourself that anymore.”

“No?” He grins. “Why not?”

“Because I hate you and Daddy is reserved for someone I like.”

He tsks. “I don’t know, kind of seems like you still like it. Keep clenching around my tongue like you wanna hear me say it again.”

You hesitate as you weave your fingers through his curls. “Never.”

He hums and the vibration against your cunt makes your thighs twitch. “Come on, baby. Don’t be mean to Daddy.”

You want to glare. Slap at him, refuse him. But he’s right—you have missed the moniker. If only just because of how good he sounds when he says it. So, you let him tease you and taunt you as he tastes you. You let him do whatever the hell he wants because your second orgasm feels stronger than the first and you don’t imagine you’ll survive this one. 

He slips a finger in as well. Beckons your pleasure closer with every curl of the large digit. It’s practiced. He sucks and licks and nips and thrusts and curls and pumps all at the same time.

Then, he pulls back and brings his palm down in a sharp smack to your pussy. 

“Stop squirming,” he instructs, then shoots you an obviously pleased frown. “Don’t be a brat.”

“M’not,” you whimper. “Not a brat…just wanna cum.”

“Do you, hm?” He licks you again then adds two fingers. “Should I let you?”

“Obviously.”

“Obviously?” He’s smirking now as he starts to go faster. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe you do deserve it. Yeah? After being so nice as to let me in.”

You pout. “Mhm.”

He’s so happy. He’s always his happiest when he’s suffocating himself with your pussy. He does everything he knows you love. He leaves teasing kisses to the inside of your thighs. He slaps at your leg, your clit, your hip. He helps rock you against his tongue and even lifts you from the couch to find a deeper angle. 

And he does all of this out of sheer enjoyment. 

“Harry,” you whimper as you melt into the cushions. Your limbs feel like jello. The pleasure is everywhere, and he looks like a god. His face is covered in you, glistening about as bright as the stars.

“I know, Poppy,” he says. He kisses your pussy and then smiles at you. “I know.”

You like the way Harry’s chest feels. Warm and soft and painted in the tattoos you used to trace with your finger.

He’s gently scratching your back as you both lay in bed. The room is quiet—you haven’t spoken in minutes. Still, neither of you can seem to find sleep and you know you’ll desperately need it soon. 

But this is nice. Even if it is the last time. You like getting to reminisce—pretend for even a moment that things are the way they used to be. When you were happy and safe and content to be together.

You weren’t sure you’d ever feel this kind of peace again.

“I missed you, too, you know,” he whispers after a moment.

You glance up. 

“I didn’t just miss your apartment. I missed you.” He takes a breath and runs his palm along your spine. “I miss our Sunday mornings and I miss when we’d watch scary movies just so we could make out and I miss the way you used to dance around in your underwear to some stupid musical you were obsessed with.”

You swallow a lump in your throat. “Har…”

“And I don’t know what happened,” he says. “I felt like…I felt like I was watching you do all these amazing things and I just couldn’t keep up. You were getting promoted and moving up and I was still at the fucking bar serving drinks. And you knew what you wanted to do. I didn’t.”

“I didn’t know,” you argue gently. “Not really. I hate my job. I hate that I don’t enjoy it the way I used to. I mean, I like that it pays the bills, but maybe that shouldn’t be enough.”

He presses his cheek to the top of your head. “You should do what makes you happy.”

“You used to make me happy.”

The soft strokes against your spine slow. 

“You did, Har,” you tell him. “So happy. That’s why I hated that we started fighting all of the time. I hated that you were gone or that I was gone or the fact that I was too ashamed to tell you that I missed you. And that I was scared we were losing each other.”

“Maybe we needed to lose each other,” he says and you feel sick. “Maybe we needed to be apart to see what we really wanted.”

You think about this. The idea sounds nice. Inviting. A happy end to a rather dreadful story.

But you both know better. Five months has taught you better.

“There’s a reason we broke up,” you finally murmur. “We didn’t…we didn’t like each other anymore. We were holding each other back—”

“I liked you,” he says softly. “I loved you. Yeah, I was mad, but I didn’t just stop loving you.” 

“Maybe you should have. Maybe it would have been easier for us and we wouldn’t be…here.”

More silence. It stretches for what feels like hours.

And then, “I can’t sleep because of you.”

You suck in a quiet breath. “What?”

“When Josie told me that you were seeing someone, I couldn’t…I couldn’t stop thinking about it. And she showed me a picture she took of you guys and you were so happy. Smiling at him like you used to smile at me and I just…I didn’t know what to do.”

Another pause. You don’t know what to say.

“I put my fist through a wall,” he tells you. “And somehow, that still didn’t hurt as much as knowing you’d moved on.”

You snake your arm around his middle and snuggle closer. “Harry, you knew we both had to move on eventually.”

“Did we?”

“Harry…”

“But so soon? It’s only been five months.”

“Yeah. Five months to grieve you and cry over you and realize I did this for you.” You close your eyes. Tight. “We’re better people now.”

“No, we’re tired people now,” he teases, and you smile. “And I think I’ll be losing sleep over you for the rest of my life.”

“Don’t say that.”

“I mean it. I’m always gonna think about you. Think about what I did wrong. What I could have done better.”

“I fucked up, too,” you argue. “I should have told my parents. And our friends. I should have talked to you more, asked you to do more things together. You’re right, I was ashamed of you. Of this…routine we’d fallen into. And I’m sorry.”

He says nothing. After all, there’s nothing more to say.

But he kisses the crown of your head and it speaks louder than any words.

“Fuck…fuck, Poppy, please—”

You grin as you lick your lips. He’s always sounded the most beautiful when he’s begging. And his best begging always tends to happen when his cock is down your throat. 

“What, Daddy?” you ask innocently. “What do you need me to do?”

His eyes roll back and he grips the sheets in his fist. “Please…”

You reposition yourself over his legs as you dip back down to have another taste. You lick and you suck and you stroke until he’s making another strained noise that sounds like sex.

You hope your neighbors can hear. You bet they missed him.

“Good boy,” you purr, squeezing his thighs as you take him even further. 

He sucks in a sharp breath through gritted teeth before his hand finds your hair and he squeezes. “Easy…easy, baby. S’been a while. Don’t hurt yourself—”

You respond to his instruction by inhaling through your nose and relaxing the muscles in your throat. Allowing him to hit the back the way he always used to.

His head drops into the pillows. “Shit—Poppy, I mean it. M’not gonna fuck your throat. It’s gonna hurt and I don’t wanna hurt you anymore.”

It’s an oddly thoughtful gesture but it does nothing for you now. Instead, you shake your head and pull off, a string of saliva dripping down his cock in your wake. “I’m fine, H. Trust me, I can take it.”

“Yeah?” He pushes up onto his elbows. “Is Crocs with Tube Socks hung or something?”

You grin. “No. But that dildo you got me last year is.”

He blinks. “You…fucking hell, you fuck your throat with that?”

“Mhm.” You swirl your tongue around his tip as he curses. “And then I fuck myself. And I pretend it’s you.”

He tightens his hold on your hair and forces your eyes back to his. “Are you serious?”

You nod, now feeling a touch shy as you wipe your mouth with your knuckles. “Yeah…I know that’s…probably weird, but…I mean, you got it for me, so I thought I’d be weirder to think about someone else—”

“No, it’s…” He stops. Struggles. “Shit, I really needed to hear that.”

“Oh, you did, huh?” 

“Yeah. I wouldn’t want you to think about anyone else when you used it, either. It’s got my fucking initials on it.”

You laugh, louder than you mean to and it makes him grin. “Yeah, it does, doesn’t it? It was a pretty good gift, I’ll admit.”

“S’a fucking perfect gift,” he retorts. “We had a lot of fun with that dildo.”

“We did indeed.”

“But apparently not as much fun as you’re having with it.”

“Fucking myself helps me sleep,” you remind him. “So sometimes it’s necessity.”

“Is that right?” 

“Mhm.” You squeeze the base and he twitches. “You used to watch me. Remember?”

“I do.” His eyes get darker. “Do you fuck yourself a lot?”

“…these days, yeah. Apparently, I can’t sleep all that well, either.”

“And does it work?”

“Most of the time, yeah.” You turn your attention back to his cock in order to avoid his curiosity before you quietly admit, “Sometimes I pretend you’re here. Sleeping next to me. And…that helps, too.”

He reaches for your wrist and pulls your attention back. “Poppy—”

“No, don’t look at me like that, it’s dumb—”

“I imagine you, too.”

You blink. “You do?”

“Every night. Except the past couple weeks. Cause now I just think about you and him. And then I can’t fucking sleep.”

You turn your hand so your fingers brush through his. “Shit. We’re a mess.”

He smiles. “Yeah.”

The conversation falls away as you dip back down to resume your work. Squeezing his balls, moaning as you take him on your tongue, and milking him for every last drop. 

Turns out, you missed the taste of him, too.

Morning comes before either of you find a moment of rest. But you can feel yourself growing tired. Your eyelids are beginning to droop, and your body feels incredibly spent. 

Turns out, round 4 is where the magic happened. He brought out your favorite vibrator and teased your poor, swollen clit with it until you squirted. It was easy and quick and he seemed rather delighted to be bathed in you.

Until, of course, you insist on an actual bath to clean you both.

The shower felt good. The warm water washing away the sticky sweat on your skin. And the two of you fell back into a similar routine. He ran the soap down your arms and you washed his curls with your favorite shampoo. A shampoo he claimed he looked everywhere for after you broke up but could never find.

He said he missed the smell. The way it made his hair so soft. And the way it would make his pillowcase smell just like you.

You were grateful that the shower hid your tears.

You both crashed on the couch after you had dried off. The sheets still needed to be cleaned and neither of you could be bothered. But, as it turned out, the couch was growing on him. And he begrudgingly admitted it was rather comfy as the two of you curled up in your usual spot. 

You know you’re both close to sleep. Finally, after all your efforts to get here. But you also know that once you wake up, Harry will leave. 

And there’s a chance you won’t see him again.

You know that nothing has changed. The two of you still want different things, even if you want each other. And you hate that that’s not enough. That what you want and what you should want don’t align.

Instead, he’ll move on with his life and you’ll move on with yours.

But you don’t want to learn how to fall asleep without him.

“Make me a deal,” you whisper.

He hums. Lashes shut tight as the morning light slips in through the window. “What?”

“If I wake up, and you’re still here…we do this again. Not…as a couple. But as two broken humans that find rest with each other.”

His eyes open.

“But if you’re gone,” you continue, “then we don’t. We don’t do it again, we don’t see each other again, we don’t reach out again. We cut ties. Officially. Block and move on. For real.”

He seems saddened by this, and you hate that you’ve made him sad. But you both know it’s for the best. This won’t be sustainable in the long run. And maybe it’s a bad idea to continue at all, but maybe you want to hold on to him anyway. At least for a little while.

Even if it’s just as friends.

Exes.

Two broken humans that used to make each other whole.

His lips press together and he nods once. “Deal,” he agrees, and you can tell by the look on his face, he’s already made a decision.

You aren’t sure which way, but you suppose you’ll find out soon enough. So, you allow your eyes to fall shut and your dreams to take hold. Melting into his arms and into the sofa as you finally find sleep quicker than you have in months.

You’re not sure how long you’re out. It feels like hours. A heavy slumber that leaves you rather refreshed as your eyes eventually flutter open. 

You don’t see Harry as you slowly adjust to your surroundings. And you don’t feel him, either. But you’re too afraid to really look. To sit up and realize that he’s gone. For good.

And then, just when you think you’ve lost him…you hear the most beautiful sound in the world.

“Good morning, Poppy.”

Taglist: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @keepdrivingkisses @swiftmendeshoran @tiredinwinter @straightontilmornin @justlemmeadoreyou @harrysdaydreams @tiaamberxx @peterparker1sgf @myfavfanficsever @littlenatilda @vamprry @fdl305 @tchalametishot @ssaama @indierockgirrl @likeapplejuicenpeach @vane28282 @lukesaprince @closureesny @lc-fics @0nlythrowharrybeaux @hannahdressedasabanana @iguessyourejustwhatineeded @dylanobandposts21 @butdaddyilovehim-hs @floral-recs @itjustkindahappenedreally @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @laelamarley @myalovesharry

#harry #harry styles #harry edward styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles imagine #harry styles x you #harry styles blurb #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fan #harry styles smut #harry styles request #harry styles concept #smut #concept #soft dom!harry #nsfr #ex!harry #exes to lovers #harry and poppy #angst

[megumisgirl]

nerd!megumi x fem reader part three ↝ feeding you horny ppl because this is one of my most liked and requested one! hope you enjoy <3

nerd!megumi who always tutors you before every major exam. teaches you in a more effective method. "listen, y/n," he grabbed your attention, spinning you around in your chair so you'd face him, his hands on both sides of your handrest, trapping you, "let's play a game, shall we? everytime you get an answer right, i take a particle of my clothes off. and if you're wrong, you take them off."

a sly smirk would be plastered on his face by how hard you were trying to get all the answers correctly. by now, you were just in your panties and matching bralette, and he was in his sweatpants, frurstrating tears welled up in your eyes from not being able to remember the simple math formulas that were so easy for you before, but now you need help to learn.

nerd!megumi who cooes you, strokes your hair and calms you down as you cry about your math struggles. you hugs you tightly and doesn't let go till your breathing and heart rate is normal again. but it's difficult to slow down your heart rate when you're on his lap, his large long hands under your hoodie calming you down as he whispered the softest, nicest compliments into your ear.

"shh..shh...it's okay, it's okay. it's just a math problem," he laughed airly, as he hugged you tighter, "your too smart for it, butterfly. come on, clean yourself up," he said, leaning back to look at your red swollen face, and puffy nose, your lips glossy from drool and your eyes bloodshot, "then we can cuddle, watch star wars, and have ice cream, hmm?" you shot him a small smile as you wiped your face with the back of your hand. "you look so pretty when you cry..."

nerd!megumi who sends you nudes in the middle of your lecture.

Megs <3

Attachment : 1 image. do you like it? sent 11:05am

him shirtless, with wet hair, his glasses fogged up and he's only covered by the thin towel that hangs lowly on his waist, showing his v-cut. your eyes trailed down to his abs, water droplets coat him and you hope it was you.

You

I'm in class!! sent 11:10am

Megs <3

you don't like it? Attachment : 5 new images. sent 11:25am

this time the towel was gone. his pink tip was wet and his cock huge. one of his large hand covered his cock and you closed your eyes, feeling the heat grow between your thighs.

"ms. y/n, can you repeat anything i just said, or is your entire syllabus written on your phone?"

nerd!megumi who goes to the dean demand that your teacher stop being so unprofessional and rude towards you. megumi who asks you to step outside, and threatens the dean, "i'm your top student, aren't i?" he pushed his glasses up, the dean shifted nervously on his seat. megumi stayed quiet, waiting for his answer.

"yes."

"then you know if i say something out in the public, how deeply it would effect your college. teachers would get fired, i wonder if you will even stay. especially with your affair with the assistant teacher of mrs. passwater." he smirked, the dean's eyes widened as he opened his mouth but megumi put his finger up, shushing him, "who is fifteen years younger than you. keep mr. suguro's gaze out of y/n, and i will keep my mouth shut." megumi, who comes out of the dean's office with the most unreadable of expression, "wanna get waffles, butterfly?"

nerd!megumi who is so nervous when he's metting your parents. "do you think they will like me?" he sighed, "maybe i should've worn the suit. maybe the hoodie was bit too casual." he mumbled, fixing unknown creases from his hoodie as you held his hand. "i love you so much, you know that?" you smiled at him, kissing his temple as he blushed furiously, "i hope you love me like the way i love you." he sighed, his deep blue eyes growing a little sad as you kissed his cheek.

"i love you, too, megs. you don't have to doubt my love, be like anakin." he smirked, as you smiled cheekily. your parents definately hit it off with megumi. they ate every joke, every observational comments, and they, of course, loved the fact that he was so good at his studies... and that he was rich. "they love youuuuu!" you said happily, hugging him, "we should get married." his eyes widened as you gasped, "after we graduate. and have our careers on the ground."

"i'd marry you any day." he said, mumbling against your lips, "i love you."

"i know."

#megumi smut #jjk smut #megumi fushiguro #megumi #megumi fushiguro smut #megumi jjk #megumi x reader #jjk x reader #notsfw #nsfr

[torntoblivion]

tracing your fingers over cyno's chest

suggestive content!

imagine tracing your fingers over cyno's chest, his chest is quite exposed for the majority of your time with him. he has every right to expose his chest due to the weather in sumeru being way too hot usually.

despite being with cyno for a while, his chest still distracts you sometimes and nobody can blame you. to have such an attractive man with his chest out in the open like him as your boyfriend, anyone would be distracted.

cyno finds your flustered face amusing, he always notices when your eyes flicker to his chest sometimes and it would be a lie if he said he didn't enjoy it.

what he enjoys even more is you touching his chest, he's quite sensitive there and your touch feels like heaven to him. your fingers carressing his chest, your nails mildly scratching him, your palms occassionally brushing up against his tanned skin and the shy look on your face despite doing something this bold; even the thoughts of these just sends a shiver down cyno's spine.

he watches you admire his chest, never taking his eyes off you, he wouldn't even think about missing out on such a sight. his muscles tense a little when your fingers reach a ticklish spot, goosebumps forming on his soft skin as quiet chuckles leaves his lips.

cyno could have you carressing his chest for the rest of eternity and would never get tired of it, the same goes for you too.

#genshin impact #genshin impact hc #genshin impact hcs #genshin impact imagine #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x y/n #genshin impact x you #genshin impact fanfics #genshin impact fanfiction #genshin impact fanfic #genshin impact fanfictions #genshin impact headcanon #genshin impact headcanons #cyno #cyno x reader #cyno x you #cyno x y/n #cyno genshin impact #nsfr

[thoseboysinblue]

Unbroken

Part 5

Christian Pulisic x reader, Enemies to Lovers

You are best friends with Christian’s childhood friend, however, you and Christian cannot seem to get along with one another.

Word count: 10,500+

Warnings: Smut, fluff, swearing, angst throughout the entire series, 18+, minors DNI

Part 4

You are startled awake by the sound of Christian's alarm. He groans next to you, hitting the snooze and feeling you stretch next to him. He wraps his arm around you and pulls you close to him, your back pressed against his chest.

"Morning, Chris" you whisper, a slight smile playing on your lips as he kisses delicately over your shoulder and your neck as you tilt your head slightly and pull your hair out of the way.

"Morning, baby" he says quietly, his voice husky and thick with sleep as he continues trailing kisses along you, his hands starting to wander slowly over your body.

"Don't you need to get up?" you giggle slightly when you realize exactly where his mind is this morning.

"Not yet, I don't" he says quietly, a low chuckle emitting from deep within his chest as he presses his hardened cock against your ass.

"Oh, I see, what you're wanting this morning," you say quietly as you reach behind you, slowly stroking him as he lets out a groan at the feeling of your fingers wrapping around him.

"Stay just like that" he whispers, placing a kiss to the shell of your ear as he lifts your leg up and over his own, allowing him more access to you, while he slips the other hand behind your head to tilt your face up to capture your lips in a kiss.

"I love waking up with you," he whispers against your lips, "two days in this bed and you've got me wrapped around your little finger" he shakes his head slightly, realizing just how hard he's fallen for you.

"Hmmm, I love waking up with you too, especially like this", you let out a faint moan as his fingers trace slow and lazy circles over your clit.

You line him up with your entrance, both of you letting out low moans as he pushes into you, stretching you out and dragging perfectly along your walls.

"Fuck, I'll never get over how perfect you feel" he groans into your neck, "you're so so perfect, baby" he continues praising you.

You reach one hand up and around the back of his neck, wanting to keep him as close as possible, your other hand intertwining with his fingers.

"Take over for me" he whispers against your neck as he pulls your hand up to wrap his lips around two of your fingers, coating them in his saliva before directing them down your body and towards your clit so that he can roll one of your nipples between his fingers causing you to let out a little gasp.

"You look so pretty like this, babe, I love watching you, be a good girl and keep going for me," he whispers against the shell of your ear, kissing you on the neck.

He's thrusting into you slowly and lazily, but still grazing over your sweet spot perfectly and you feel yourself already teetering on the edge of an orgasm. You aren't sure if your still overly sensitive from the activities of the night before, or if it's the way he's moaning into your ear and praising you over and over, but you know you aren't going to last much longer.

"Christian, baby, I'm so close" you whisper, letting out a moan as he thrusts into you a little harder. "I know baby, but hold on for me, wait for me, yeah?"

You nod your head, fighting with everything you have to hold off your orgasm as the sounds of your quiet moans fill the room. You feel yourself clench around him as he captures your lips in a heavy kiss.

"Oh fuck" he moans into your mouth, as he continues palming your breasts and rolling your nipples between his fingers.

"Shit, Christian I don't think I can," you pant out as he drops his face into your neck, "it's ok, baby, I'm with you, go on, let go for me" he grunts out as he feels you cum around him, brining on his own simultaneous release. He presses his hips flush against your ass as he grips onto your hip, sure to leave bruises from his finger tips.

"That's a hell of a way to wake up" he chuckles as you both work to steady your breathing while he places a few soft kisses along your shoulder and neck his hand trailing delicately along your side while the other stays intertwined with yours.

You let out a soft sigh, pulling his hand up to kiss over his knuckles. Christian pulls out of you and you turn over to face him, placing kisses along his chest and neck.

"Stay here" he whispers against your lips kissing you one more time before hopping out of the bed and pulling on a pair of shorts and disappearing out of the room.

He returns holding your shampoo and conditioner and body wash, along with your toiletry bag full of your skincare items. "What's all this?" you grin at him. "I'm moving you in here with me" he chuckles softly. "And what if I don't want to move in here with you?" you smirk back at him holding in your own soft laugh. "You do" he winks back at you disappearing into the bathroom and placing your things on the counter, turning on the shower before returning to you with a towel around his waist.

"Come on" he says pulling you out of the bed and wrapping his arms around your naked frame kissing you softly. "I want to take a shower with you" he breathes out like he's just revealed his innermost secret to you as you nod slightly at him.

You follow him into the bathroom as he drops his towel to the floor stepping into the shower, turning back and holding his hand out to you inviting you to join him. You giggle as he pulls your body against his under the warm water.

"I love you" he says quietly as he trails kisses along your jaw, his hands skimming over your body, caressing you like you are a delicate piece of glass that he fears he might break.

"I love you, too" you smile back at him, your hands cupping each side of his jaw, forcing him to look you in the eyes. You both stand there for a few moments, staring at each other as the water cascades down your bodies before he leans down to kiss you pulling you as close to him as possible.

You continue taking your shower together, Christian watching you mesmerized as you wash your hair. "You're staring" you smirk at him when you turn and open your eyes. "Hard not to" he blushes slightly at you, both of you enjoying the intimacy of sharing a shower with one another.

He takes your body wash from you, lathering it in his hands and running them over your body softly, skimming his fingers over the marks he'd left on you the night before when he once again claimed you as his own. Once he's finished you do the same for him, running your hands over his body, noticing the slight imprints from where your finger tips gripped onto him in various places last night, no marks anyone else would notice, but you knew they were there causing you to smile slightly at the memories from the past few days.

You then turn your attention to his hair, working the shampoo into his curls as your fingers scratch lightly over his scalp. "Is there anything you're not good at?" he hums, closing his eyes, reveling in the sensation of you taking care of him. "Lying" you chuckle as he opens his eyes to look at you, "I'd say that's still a win for me" he grins back at you as he leans his head back under the water to wash the shampoo out of his hair.

You both make small talk about your plans for the day, him telling you he should be home around lunch and you saying you were planning on just lounging at the house reading until he returns as you step out of the shower and he wraps a warm towel around you.

You watch him in the mirror as he towel dries his hair before wrapping his towel around his waist. "Now who's staring" he winks at you noticing your intent gaze. "Hard not to" you smirk back, crinkling your nose slightly before starting on your skincare.

He leans against the counter watching you, "so what's your favorite food?" he asks. "Maybe pizza, or tacos, or I love anything Italian really," you answer him absentmindedly as you finish your skincare and brush through your hair deciding to let it air dry before you brush your teeth alongside Christian.

"Favorite sandwich?" he asks, continuing to quiz you. "Turkey" you smile back at him.

"Last one, favorite dessert?"

"Brownies, or cookies, or ice cream, sorry, can't pick just one," you shrug your shoulders at him.

"You're so pretty," he grins at you turning you to face him, "I'm so glad I can tell you that now," smiling as a light blush paints your cheeks. "You are too" you smile back at him as you run your fingers along the stubble on his jaw. "I've always thought you were handsome, even from the first time I met you," you go up on your tiptoes to place a kiss to his lips, weaving your hands around the back of his neck.

"You remember the first time we met?" he asks wrapping his arms around your waist as you look up at him and nod. Yeah, I came to Cincinnati with Em to watch you play, and we all went out afterwards, you said about five words to me all night" you smile at him. "I'm sorry" he whispers against your lips, "I was such an idiot, but I knew that night that you were special, and that you would end up in my life in one way or another, you looked beautiful then too, I loved you in that red shirt you were wearing" he says, placing a soft kiss to your jaw causing you to shudder.

"You remember what I was wearing?" you question him as your fingers play with the hair on the back of his neck. "Mmm-hmm" he hums, kissing along your shoulder and collar bone, "I also now owe Wes and Tyler $100 each" he chuckles. "Why is that?" you ask him your eyebrows knitting together. "Because they bet me we would end up together, and I said we wouldn't. Not because I didn't want you from that very first night, but because I didn't think you would ever give me the time of day."

"How did they know?" you ask, trying to think of what might have happened that night that would lead them to think that you and Christian would eventually end up together. "They said they could tell by the way I watched you all night, and the fact that I was a complete stuttering mess around you and couldn't even talk to you properly," he smiles back at you kissing the tip of your nose.

"Well, in that case, I'm glad they were right," you say as you press a kiss to his cheek. You exit the bathroom together and Christian hands you one of his t-shirts. You pull it over your head and he smiles down at you, taking you in as his shirt hits you mid thigh. "I'm going to start on some breakfast," you say before kissing him lightly as he starts gathering what he needs for training.

You stop by your room, slipping on a pair of lace underwear before heading downstairs to the kitchen. Putting on some music, you start making coffee for each of you and decide to make smoothies again since there weren't many options in Christian's fridge. You make a mental note to go to the shop later after he's left to pick up a few things so that you can prepare a few proper meals for the two of you before you go home in the next few days.

You finish making your smoothies and pouring Christian's coffee into a to go cup, assuming he will need to leave soon. He walks into the kitchen coming up behind you and settling his hands around your waist, moving your hair to place a kiss on the back of your neck.

"I moved the rest of your stuff into our room, I hope you don't mind," he says along your jaw, a look of hopefulness in his eyes relaxing when you shake your head slightly and whisper that you don't mind. The song that is playing switches to "Wanted" by Hunter Hayes as Christian turns you around in his arms pulling your arms up and around his neck before kissing you softly and starting to sway along with the music.

You both laugh as he spins you around a few times playfully dipping you as he hums and sings along in your ear. Your eyes fill with tears threating to spill, he lifts you up onto the counter, standing between your legs as he bumps his nose against yours. "I didn't think my dancing or singing was that bad," he chuckles. "No, it's not that, I just never thought I'd be here with you, like this, it's almost too good to be true and I'm worried this little bubble is going to burst any minute," you whisper as he looks at you concerned.

"Hey, I know, but it's ok, this won't be easy, but I'm not going anywhere, I'm going to do everything I can to protect you, and to protect us," he smiles back at you reassuringly and placing a kiss to your lips. You wrap your hands around his neck, pulling him closer to you and deepening the kiss as he groans softly.

Both of you are too caught up in the moment you are sharing that you didn't hear Christian's front door open and close, not realizing anyone else was there until you hear Emily squeal "I fucking knew it!" You both break away from the kiss, simultaneously burying your faces into each others necks knowing you've been caught.

"So" Christian starts, turning around between your legs and facing your best friend as you rest your chin on his shoulder wrapping your arms around his waist, "we might have figured out that we can get along," he chuckles.

"I can see that," she grins at the pair of you, "so are you like, together now, or is this just an itch that needed to be scratched?" Your heart races at her question considering you and Christian really haven't discussed what this is exactly, even though you'd both admitted you are in love with one another.

"We're together, Em, this isn't just a fling" he smiles at her, intertwining his fingers with yours and running his thumb over your hand reassuringly hoping you agree with him.

"About time" she chuckles pulling you both into a hug, "I knew you'd figure it out sooner or later, dummies."

"We have a lot to talk about apparently," Emily says as she eyes you up and down, noticing you're wearing nothing but Christian's t-shirt.

You grab a banana and start peeling it as Christian picks up his bag for training and turns back towards you to grab the coffee and smoothie you'd made for him. "You're gonna have to wait until after I leave to eat that," he smirks at you, "or I'll end up taking you back upstairs and I'll be late for training."

"Gag me" Emily utters from the other side of the kitchen where she's now leaning against the counter watching you both. "That's what she said" Christian quips nodding his head towards you. "Christian!" both you and Emily shout in unison, "that's the dirtiest thing I've ever heard you say in my entire life," she giggles and fakes vomiting. "What? You walked right into that one," he chuckles stepping back between your legs to give you a quick kiss and pulling you in for a hug, both of you whispering an "I love you" before he steps away, hugging Emily quickly and heading out the door.

After he leaves, Emily pulls you to the couch with a cup of coffee that you'd made for her. "So tell, me everything, well maybe not everything, you can leave out the details of your bedroom activities, because as much as I'd love to hear about your sex life, I don't need to know about your sex life with the guy who's practically my brother," she says with a bit of a shudder.

"He's been sweet, really sweet actually, it's all been too perfect, and I'm scared it's going to get ruined" you sigh at her. "I know, but you have to trust him, he's a good guy and you are both good for each other, you have to know that," she smiles back at you, trying to give you some encouragement.

"But you know how I am, you know the scrutiny of dating him will drive me crazy, it's like we've been in this little bubble so far, and I know that won't last forever," you answer her. "Yes, but I've never seen him like this with anyone, he will help you with whatever comes along, he has people for that, he won't let you get hurt, and at the end of the day, you two are all that matters, fuck everyone else and their opinions," she giggles.

"So, how are things with Ben?" you question her. "I mean, you know, it's fun to pretend we're together while I'm here, but as soon as I go home, he will go back to doing his thing, I'll go back to doing mine, we aren't cut out for the long distance thing, but he's sweet, and a very fun distraction," she smirks as she raises her eyebrows at you.

"Well, I'm assuming with both Christian and I living here, you will be visiting more often, so maybe you will see him more," you smile at her knowing she probably likes him more than she's willing to admit.

Your conversation drifts off to other things before she decides to go up to her room for a shower and a nap. You watch TV and read for a while before you make your way upstairs, getting dressed and putting on some light make-up, deciding to walk to one of the small shops near Christian's house to stock up on a few groceries. You grab things for breakfast and your favorite pasta dish, knowing you want to cook dinner for Christian tonight. You also grab a bottle of wine and some beer that you noticed him drinking the other night.

You walk back to Christian's and put everything you've bought away, and just as you've finished you hear him come through the door. "Hey you" he beams at you quickly closing the distance between you, "hey" you giggle as he sits a couple of bags on the counter pulling you against him and kissing you. "I missed you more than I should have for only being gone a few hours," he breathes against your neck. "You two are adorable," Ben chuckles walking into the kitchen. "Hello to you too, Ben" you grin at him over Christian's shoulder.

"Em" Christian shouts, "come downstairs I have a surprise for you!" You both listen as she bounds down the stairs. "What is it?" she squeals when she sees Ben standing with the two of you, lunging at him and pulling him in for a kiss before turning and dragging him back upstairs. "He likes her far more than he wants to admit," Christian says rubbing his hand over the back of his neck. "Same for her, but I think they will figure it out eventually," you grin at him, "after all, we did," you say pecking him on the cheek.

"What's in the bags?" you ask, nodding your head towards the bags sitting on the counter. "I picked us up some lunch," he smiles back at you, "and a little something that reminded me of you," he says handing you one of the bags.

"You really don't have to get me gifts, Chris," you smile back at him "you are enough."

"I know that, but I wanted to, and it's nothing extravagant, I promise," he says smiling as you open the bag which contains a leather bound copy of Pride and Prejudice.

"I'm sure you've already read it, but I noticed you were nearly finished with the other book you were reading, and you seem like the type who would read the classics more than once. There was a bookshop next to the place I stopped to grab us some lunch and I saw it and thought of you," he smiles shyly at you.

"I love it!" you squeal, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him. "It's one of my favorites and I actually misplaced my copy," you smile sweetly at him, "so it's perfect, just like you."

He blushes at your words, dipping his head to kiss you lightly on the forehead. "I'm so glad," he smiles back at you, "I'd do anything to make you happy, you know that right?"

You nod at him, resting your head against his chest and listening to the comforting sound of his heart, "I want to make you happy too, Chris, more than you know."

He squeezes you a little tighter around the waist. "I'm going to grab a couple of things, then I thought we could take our lunch to the park that's not far from here, enjoy the nice weather for a bit," he says resting his chin on the top of your head.

"That sounds nice," you breathe out just happy to spend time with him in any way. "Ok, grab your shoes, I just need to get a couple of things and we will go," he smiles pecking you on the nose.

You excitedly put on your shoes and just as you finish, Christian appears holding the bag of items for your lunch along with a blanket and your new book. You take the blanket and book from him intertwining your fingers with his as you make you way towards the park.

You find an area to sit overlooking a small lake and a little ways off of the path offering you a bit of privacy. Christian takes the blanket from you, spreading it out on the ground and setting up your small picnic, consisting of sandwiches, pasta salad, fruit, and brownies.

While you eat, you chat about his training session, him telling you some of the antics that took place and plans for the upcoming match. Once you've cleared away the food, keeping the fruit and brownies out to snack on, Christian stretches out on the blanket and closes his eyes as you lay with your head on his stomach, pulling your book out to read while he naps in the sun. You snap a couple of pictures of the two of you, and smile at how comfortable and at peace you both look.

After a while, he wakes up from his nap, bringing his hand to caress over your shoulder softly. "Morning sleeping beauty," you smile at him. "Sorry, I didn't mean to fall asleep," he smiles back. "It's ok, I didn't mind, I'm sure you're tired from training," you answer him, stretching you hand up to rub the side of his face.

"Hmmm, tired from training, and a certain someone that's been keeping me up later than usual," he smiles at you, a glint of playfulness in his eyes. "Well you definitely don't seem to mind," you grin back at him, turning on your side to face him.

"No, not at all," he chuckles, "this is nice, I like that you are just as happy with a picnic lunch and new book as you would be if I'd taken you to a five star restaurant and gifted you an expensive bag," he says as he tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

"Oh no, you've just exposed my master plan," you giggle at him, "I'm just using you for your money and sex," you say with a tone of surprise while he looks at you pretending to be shocked.

"Honestly, you've got me so whipped, I would probably be okay with that," he shakes his head at you. "Good thing I'm not too much into fancy things, and if I decide that I am, I'll just buy them for myself," you smile back at him. "But I like this," you gesture towards your current situation, "it feels normal."

"Never thought I'd like being referred to as normal as much as I do right now," he chuckles. "Oh I didn't say you are normal," you quip at him.

Erupting into laughter when he starts tickling you and pins you underneath him, one of his hands gripping onto both of your wrists and holding them above your head as he runs nose up and back down the bridge of your nose before kissing you softly. He skims his hand against your side, sliding his hand under your shirt to expose your bare skin.

He loosens his grip on your wrists and you wrap one hand behind his neck, the other resting on his jaw as he continues kissing you, pulling a soft moan from you as he lowers his kisses to your jaw and neck before quickly turning the two of you over, sitting up and pulling you to straddle him.

You scratch softly along the hair at the back of his neck as you rest your forehead against his staring into his eyes while his hands settle over your hips. "I could be perfectly happy spending every day with you, just like this," he whispers against your lips as you nod in agreement.

"Well, even though I am moving here soon, I do have an actual job that we are going to have to work around," you smile at him, "but, lucky for you, I don't have to go into the office every day, I'll be able to work from home, or wherever, quite a bit."

"So will you be able to travel with me, for away matches and things?" he asks you quietly, a look of excitement flickering in his eyes at the thought of having you there to support him all of the time.

"I might not always be able to go with you, but I should be able to make it work quite a bit, even when you go back to the States, as long as I don't have something I have to be in the London office for in person, I think it will be ok, for me to travel" you reassure him as he wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you in for a hug.

"You have no idea how happy that makes me, knowing I'll have you there, it means a lot," he says against your neck nuzzling in a little closer. "Of course" you whisper back, kissing him on the neck just below his ear, "following you around Europe doesn't sound like a bad gig at all."

"I've been thinking about it a lot the past few days," he starts, leaning you back slightly so that he can look at you, "and I think if we'd have gotten together when we first met, it might not have worked, because of the distance, and I wouldn't have been able to support you in the way I would've wanted, you would've probably ended up resenting me, but now, it feels like everything is working out in our favor and the timing feels right, with you moving here. I would've never wanted to ask you to move for me, I wouldn't want to take anything away from you."

"Yeah, I think you are right, it would have been a lot harder to make this work a few years ago, but Christian, I would do anything for you, I hope you know that now," you answer him honestly, bringing your hand up to his jaw and rubbing your thumb over his cheek as he closes his eyes, leaning into your hand and gives small nod, a content sigh escaping his lips.

You sit quietly for a little longer, enjoying the silence and each other's company while you both drink each other in. Your eyes wander over his face, memorizing every freckle as you inhale his already familiar scent. He blushes slightly under your intense gaze and your flicker of a smile let's him know you've noticed.

"Should we head back?" he whispers, leaning his forehead against yours. "Probably," you smile at him, "I need to get a head start on dinner anyways."

"Oh, are you cooking?" he questions you as you stand up and pull him to his feet before you both start packing up your things. "Mmm-hmm, I was planning to make lasagna, will that be ok?" you ask, now unsure of yourself and what his particular diet entails.

"No, no, that sounds perfect," he says placing a kiss to your forehead and offering his arm for you to loop yours through, intertwining your fingers as you make the short walk home.

"I thought we could invite Emily and Ben to stay, I feel like we've barely spent any time with her, and we both know she's not going to do any cooking," you smirk at him. "Yeah, that sounds good, maybe have a movie night with them, if they want to," he smiles back at you, admiring your thoughtfulness.

Once you arrive back at his house you quickly put away the things left over from your lunch and begin working on the sauce for the lasagna. Christian turns on some music and pours you a glass of wine, thanking you for the beer you'd bought for him earlier as he opens one.

"Can I help?" he asks, a flicker of confusion dancing across his face as he watches you intently. "Well, can I put you in charge of chopping or stirring?" you smile at him as he wraps his arms around your waist from behind resting his chin on your shoulder, "or you can just stay like this and watch," you hum as he kisses along your jaw.

"I'll stir" he says taking the spoon from you, while you turn to chopping, enjoying the normalcy of being in the kitchen together, preparing a meal and making small talk, the slight touches and lingering glances working you both into a state of need. Once the sauce is simmering you let him know it needs to do so for an hour or so as he gently lifts you onto the counter and settles himself between your legs.

"How ever will we pass the time?" he smirks pulling you in for a kiss humming against your lips as you wrap your hands around the back of his neck and pull him in closer. Things turn quite heated as the kiss deepens and his hands roam over your body when you wrap your legs around his waist.

"I will never get enough of you," he mumbles against your lips.

"And I will never get used to seeing you two like this," Emily smirks from behind him, once again catching you as Ben follows her into the kitchen.

"We are cooking dinner and hoped the two of you would join us," Christian says nonchalantly pulling you from the counter and standing behind you, pressing his hardened length into your backside causing you to smirk, "well she is cooking, I'm just trying to stay out of the way," he says kissing you on the cheek.

"I can see you are staying out of the way," Ben chuckles, "and we would love to join you," he says pulling Emily into his side and placing a swift kiss to her temple.

The four of you move to the living room, settling in to watch TV for a bit before you move back to the kitchen to continue working on dinner. Christian wanders in shortly after you, hopping up on the counter to watch as you layer the lasagna together before placing it into the oven and starting to make a simple salad to go along with it as well as preparing some bread.

He pours you another glass of wine before you both return to the couch while everything finishes. He pulls your legs into his lap, gently massaging your calves and feet while you watch tv.

You all make your way back into the kitchen, preparing your plates and sitting at the table together, chatting and laughing and catching up with what everyone has been doing the past few days. You also discuss the plans for tomorrow as the boys will need to leave around lunch to go to training and then to the team hotel to prepare for their next game. You and Emily and Sophia have a girls night planned and plan to attend the match together as well.

After dinner, you clean up and then head to the cinema room to watch a movie, Ben and Emily settle on one side of the sectional while you and Christian settle on the other side. You pull a blanket over the two of you and snuggle up close to him resting your head on his chest as he wraps one arm around your waist.

As the movie lingers on, you start tracing circles over his abdomen a bit absentmindedly, before working your way lower and lower until your fingers dip just under the waistband of the joggers he's wearing as you glance up at him and give him a smirk.

He changes his position slightly, pulling one knee up to conceal your movements and lifting his hips just enough to encourage you to continue. Glancing over to see that Ben and Emily are in their own little world, not paying either of you any attention, you inch your hand lower until you are met with his semi hardened cock. You stroke your fingers over him lightly, teasing him until he's straining against his boxers before you wrap your hand around him fully, continuing slowly.

He coughs lightly, disguising the moan he really wants to let out at your teasing. You continue working your hand up and down his shaft for several minutes, feeling him twitch in response. He kisses you on the top of the head before leaning down to whisper in your ear "if you keep that up, you are literally going to have a mess on your hands," causing you to smirk as you gather some of the precum that is leaking from his tip onto your finger and pull it into your mouth, humming quietly at the taste.

"Jesus Christ, you're killing me" he whispers as you dip your hand back below his boxers, but only trail a couple of fingers along his length for now, teasing and edging him.

A few minutes later, Ben and Emily decide they are going to bed, leaving you and Christian alone in the cinema room. "I thought they'd never leave," he growls crashing his lips to yours in a hungry and needy kiss.

You wrap your fingers around him fully again, stroking up and down him slowly as he moans quietly against your lips. "Are you going to get on your knees for me?" he asks, a hint of mischief and lust filling his eyes as he tucks your hair behind your ears.

You nod, lowering yourself to the floor in front of him as he moves to place both feet on the floor, his back leaning against the cushions when he lifts his hips allowing you to pull his joggers and boxers down in one movement.

You run your tongue along the underside of his shaft, swirling it around his tip when he bucks his hips slightly. "Baby, please don't tease, I need you so bad," he groans.

You lower your lips further down his cock, taking him in inch by inch as you bob your head slowly. He pulls your hair into a makeshift ponytail focusing on how perfectly you are working him. "Fuck, you're so good for me, so so good," he moans out causing your stomach to flip at his praise.

He steadies your pace just a bit, encouraging you to go a little faster, letting out a whimper when he hears you gag. "Shit, y/n, baby I'm close, will you swallow for me?" he asks as you feel him twitch inside your mouth. You continue just as you have been, glancing up slightly to see his eyes burning into yours as you give him a little nod and wink your hand squeezing his thigh with encouragement.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, y/n," he moans quietly, a few more expletives tumbling from his lips as he comes undone in your mouth. He watches as you pull off of him, opening your mouth and holding your tongue out so that he can see his cum, before you swallow it down, using your fingers to clean the edges of your lips.

"Holy shit," he says as he stands up tucking himself back into his pants and pulling you to your feet to stand in front of him. "You're fucking unreal," he smiles at you, groaning at the taste of himself on your tongue when you pull him in for a kiss. His breath still uneven and his head a bit fuzzy.

"What do you want pretty girl?" he asks with a playful grin on his lips. "You, I always want you, Christian," you whisper back to him, giggling as he picks you up and throws you over his shoulder, heading towards your now shared bedroom.

You wake the next morning as light filters through the windows of the bedroom, turning over to see Christian snoring quietly bedside you. You snuggle into his side tangling your legs with his as he wraps his arm around you and places a light kiss to the top of your head before drifting back off to sleep.

You study his face mesmerized as he sleeps, admiring his relaxed features, soft curls a bit messy, a slight stubble on his jaw, freckles dotting his cheeks where his long eyelashes rest before you drift back to sleep as well.

You awaken a while later, kissing him gently on the chest before creeping out of the bed without disturbing him, pulling one of his shirts over your head and slipping on a pair of joggers before you head downstairs to make some breakfast.

You are standing in the kitchen, making coffee and American style pancakes when you feel his arms wrap around you from behind, placing a kiss to your neck and watching you without uttering a word as you plate up your breakfast. He takes the plates and heads to the back garden as you follow him with two cups of coffee in hand.

You sit and eat, your legs draped over his lap while you chat quietly. "Thank you," he hums, kissing you on the cheek "this was really good" he smiles at his empty plate, taking everything to the kitchen and washing up while you get settled on the couch in the living room.

He wanders into the living room, two fresh cups of coffee in his hands as he wedges himself behind you on the couch, pulling you to sit between his legs with your back pressed against his chest. "I could get used to mornings like this," you breathe out as he drags his fingertips along your arms, pulling you in closer and kissing your neck.

You hear Ben and Emily make their way downstairs as Ben leaves for the day and she makes her way into the kitchen. You call out to her letting her know there are pancakes and coffee if she wants any. Shortly after she comes into the living room, a plate in her hands as she sits down in the chair across from you and Christian, scrolling through her phone as she eats.

"Oh shit, Chris, have you talked to your publicist?" she says, glancing up nervously from her phone. "He tried to call earlier, but I didn't answer, why?" he says, his body tensing up behind you. She turns her phone around and passes it to him, a series of tabloid articles on display from the day the two of you spent out and about in London, bursting the bubble you've been in far sooner than either of you like.

"It's ok, baby" he tries to reassure you, running his hands over your arms. You stand and quickly rush from the room. He starts to follow you, "let me," Emily rests her hand on his arm, noticing the flicker of pain in his expression, "call your publicist."

She finds you sitting in Christian's bed, tears streaming down your face as you scroll through your phone. She sits down beside you, wrapping her arms around you and letting you cry quietly for a few minutes.

"It's awful, Em, the things they are saying are awful," you sob, "I'm not good enough for him, not pretty enough, just with him for his money or the clout, and I'm going to be a distraction he doesn't need."

"Oh but sweetie, none of those things are true," she tries to reassure you, rubbing her hand over your back. "You are absolutely good enough for him, in fact you are perfect for him. I knew it the moment I met you. When we first moved in together I knew you were going to be my best friend, and I knew you would steal my other best friend's heart one day. The more I have gotten to know you over the years, the more I've realized it, you became part of my life so that I could make you part of his life, everything has worked out just as it should, babe. He knows you are here for the right reasons or he wouldn't have given this a chance at all. You are fucking gorgeous, and we aren't going to let some trolls on the internet say otherwise. And let's be real, he needs a bit of a distraction, he's far too tense," she smiles thankful to hear a quiet chuckle escape from your lips.

"It's going to be ok, y/n, you have all of us to support you guys, and if it makes you feel better, his mom has already text me a screenshot of the two of you and said "finally 😍" so you've already won his family over without even trying, causing you to give her a little smile as you dry your eyes.

"I'll leave you two alone," she whispers as Christian enters the room. She gives him a quick hug and leaves shutting the door behind her.

He sits on the bed and wraps his arms around you, pulling you into his chest. "I'm so sorry baby, I know this isn't what we wanted just yet, but please please don't believe anything anyone else says, it doesn't change anything about how I feel," he says kissing you on the top of the head, "we've dealt with this type of stuff before when we've been seen together back home, it's going to be fine."

"No, Christian," you say pulling away from him, "we didn't deal with this before, I dealt with it, alone, with no one, you didn't even check on me," you answer him bitterly. "And it was different, because at least then there was no truth to it, I was just a girl who happened to be pictured near you, sharing mutual friends, this is very different and you know it, and you have no idea how hard it was on me the other times. I've worked too hard to make something of myself, and I don't want to just be known because of who I happen to be fucking," you spit out a bit angrily.

He stands up, walking towards his wardrobe, a mixture of pain and anger flashing on his face as he swallows harshly, clenching his jaw, as he turns back to face you, "you're right, I wasn't there for you before, and I'm sorry for that, I should've checked on you and I didn't realize it had bothered you as much as it evidently did, but I'd really hoped that I was more to you than just some guy you're fucking," he says harshly before turning to walk into his closet needing to start gathering his things for his overnight stay with the team.

You sit back down on the bed, realizing that what you said had hurt him even if you didn't intend it that way. A few tears spill down your cheeks, feeling like the perfection and bliss of the past few days is now crashing around you as you breathe shakily. After a few minutes you stand from the bed, knowing you needed to put things right with him.

"Christian," you say, your voice barely above a whisper, "I'm sorry, that's not what I meant, you are so much more to me than just someone I'm fucking, I just don't want you to think I'm here because of what I can get from you, I don't care about the attention this would bring me, and I don't want you to think that's why I'm here."

He turns to face you, his eyes glazed over with tears, "I know that's not why you're here, and even though I'm still learning everything about you, still figuring out how to handle there being an us and not just a me, I've always known you weren't using me to gain anything," he sighs, walking over to you and wrapping his arms around you, "I don't care what anyone says, I'm in love with you and nothing is going to change that, please don't let them take this away from us."

You stand their quietly for a few minutes, wrapped in each other's arms, that feeling of safety and warmth slowly creeping back in.

"Will you still come to the match tomorrow?" he asks nervously. "Christian I, I don't know. Don't you think that will just add fuel to the fire if I'm seen there?"

"Yeah, it would I guess, but this is what it means to love me, y/n, you don't get to pick and choose the parts you don't like, if you are going to love me then you have to love all of me, including this, it's my life, it's what I do for a living, I can't just walk away from it."

"I know that, Christian, I'm not asking you to walk away, but showing up at a match tomorrow in light of what happened today seems like it's a bit much, I'm sorry, I just don't know that I can."

"Look, you said yesterday, you'd do anything to make me happy, but here we are today, you know I need you there supporting me and you are too scared to show up, don't you know that all of us will do what we can to protect you? It's not just me and you, we have Emily, Ben, Kai, Soph, Mase, Reece, they are all on our side, they will all stand up for us and protect us if they need to, it's just how it is."

"I know, just let me think about it please," you whisper, picking at your fingers while staring at the floor, knowing you can't bear to look him in the eyes right now.

He finishes packing his things, as you sit in the closet watching him, but neither of you speaking. Before he leaves, he comes over to you, places his fingers under your chin and tilts your head back as he leans down to kiss you gently. "I love you, y/n," he whispers against your lips. "I love you too, Chris, more than you know," you whisper back, your lips caressing his one more time before he leaves.

After he's gone, you curl up in the bed, missing his warmth and touch. You snuggle your face into his pillow, inhaling the hints of his comforting scent as you drift off to sleep, hoping you will wake with a clear head and be able to make sense of the mess you've found yourself in.

You are woken up by Emily and Sophia as they burst into the room, piling into the bed with you. "Fancy finding you here, in a certain American's bed," Sophia smirks at you raising her eyebrows. "Technically speaking, all the beds in this house belong to him," you giggle back at her.

"I'm sorry about the articles, but it gets easier, I promise," she smiles softly at you as you nod your head.

You all proceed with your planned girls night, ordering food, drinking wine and doing face masks as you realize how much you enjoy Sophia's company and know that the two of you are going to be really close friends.

When you all decide to go to bed, you snuggle yourself into Christian's bed, and decide to FaceTime him.

"Hey baby," you giggle as he answers, slightly more drunk than you realized. "You seem like your having a good night," he chuckles at you, his warm brown eyes focusing on the screen. "You have really pretty eyes," you drawl out, seeing him blush a little.

"Thank you," he smiles, "you have really pretty everything," he winks at you causing you to cover your face with your hand.

"So what have you been up to? Missing me?"

"We ate, had some wine, did facemasks, you know, girls stuff," you giggle back at him, "and yes I miss you, I miss ALL of you," you grin at your awkward attempt at being flirty.

"Is that so?" he raises an eyebrow at you, "all of me?"

"Mmm hmmm," you say your eyes a bit heavy.

"I miss you too, I promise the only nights I'll spend away from you are the ones when I don't have a choice."

"You're too good for me," you whisper.

"No I'm not, I'm lucky you'll have me."

You both sit in silence, staring into the screen, taking each other in.

"I love you, Christian," you sigh, finally breaking the silence.

"I love you too, baby, get some sleep, I'll see you tomorrow, yeah?" he says quietly as you nod.

"I'll see you tomorrow," you whisper, before ending the call and falling asleep.

The next morning, you walk with Emily and Sophia to a small cafe for some breakfast, hoping some coffee will kill your slight hangover. They chatter about the plans for leaving for the match and you get more and more nervous as the time gets closer. Once they are ready, they come to find you, sitting in Christian's bed. "I'm sorry, I don't think I can do it," you look up at them tears brimming in your eyes.

They pull you into a group hug, "it's ok, he will understand," Emily mumbles into your ear. "I'll leave your pass here, just in case you change your mind," Sophia adds, "Kai text me earlier, they are all five starting, which doesn't happen all that often," she smiles at you, imploring you to change your mind.

"You guys go on, I don't want to make you late," you sniffle at them. They stand to leave, Emily turning back to face you one more time, "he needs you there, y/n, it will mean the world to him," as she offers you an encouraging smile.

After they left, you internally argue with yourself about whether or not you should go, finally deciding that you need to, he needs you there, and you love him, you will have to do it sooner or later so might as well take the leap now. Quickly checking the time, you realize that if you hurry and luck is on your side with transportation, you should be able to get there before it starts.

You throw one of his Chelsea jerseys you found in his closet over your head, grabbing a pair of jeans and your trainers as you quickly get dressed and leave the house, your pass dangling from your neck.

Emily and Sophia arrive, taking their seats, a seat beside them open for you, as they watch the boys come out to inspect the pitch doing a quick walk around. Christian glances up to where he knows you should be sitting seeing the empty seat he looks at the ground, and turns his attention back to the conversation with the guys.

Luckily for you, everything works out perfectly and you find yourself rushing through the stadium entrance in little to no time, making your way to your seat next to Sophia just as they come back out onto the pitch to warm up.

Kai gets Christian's attention when he sees you, nodding in your direction as he searches for you. When his eyes finally meet yours, his expression is so full of love that absolutely no one would mistake it. "I've seen that look before," Sophia says, leaning into you, "but never from him," she grins.

The game starts, evident in the first few minutes that it is going to be a very physical and fast paced match, but they are doing well, Kai nearly scoring almost immediately. You cheer and groan along with the crowd, as game continues, watching in shock as Christian clatters to the ground after being fouled. "I would say that part gets easier, but it doesn't," Sophia says, squeezing your arm, "but he's not injured, I can tell that much, he likes to play like he's built like Reece," she giggles, "so he gets knocked around a lot."

You clap along with everyone else, when he gets up stretching a little as play continues. Eventually, the game ends, Chelsea winning 2-0 with both Kai and Christian scoring. Sophia takes you and Emily to where you can wait for the players and you each have a glass of wine and a few snacks while you wait. After a short while, the players start arriving, greeting their families and taking photographs with some of the VIP guests that are also waiting.

Mason arrives first, picking you up in a hug, "here's the little good luck charm," he laughs as he sits you back on your feet. "I don't know about that, Mase," you smile, blushing slightly, "oh I do, the man is scoring on and off the field these days, he's definitely in a much better mood lately," he winks as you shake your head.

Reece follows him over, greeting you with a hug as well, followed by Kai and Ben, before Christian finally arrives, wandering over and pulling you in for a hug. "Thank you for being here," he whispers against your neck, sending a shock of electricity through you. "Of course," you smile, "I love all of you, even the parts that scare me to death," you whisper back to him as he squeezes you a bit tighter.

"So what's the plan?" he says turning back to the group and intertwining his fingers with yours.

"Meeting at your house, then going to that little place with the live music we've been to before," Mason announces as everyone nods in agreement.

"So," Christian turns back to you, "you can ride with me, or with one of the others if you want to, or we can leave my car here and ride with someone, whatever you want to do, the crowds getting out of here can be a lot sometimes and I don't want you to worry about pictures," he rambles until you squeeze his hand. "I'll leave with you, it's fine," you smile, a bit nervous.

You all make your way to the car park, the guys getting stopped by fans occasionally. You to end up a few feet in front of Christian, allowing him the first glimpse of his name plastered across your back. He jogs up beside you, grabbing your arm and tugging you in the direction of his car. As you reach it, he unlocks it and opens the door, glancing around as you sit in the front seat, before he leans down to press a kiss to your lips. "You in my shirt," he cocks an eyebrow at you, "is making me want to tell those fuckers to find somewhere else to go, and that we aren't going anywhere but to bed," he chuckles before shutting the door and walking around to climb into the driver's seat.

"Like I said, getting out of here can be intense, I don't have to stop unless we get held up by people stopping in front of us, but you can keep your head down, smile for pictures, whatever you are up for, ok?"

"You can stop, I'm ok with it," you smile at him, "I'm sure lots of people want to see the goal scorers."

"Here, I brought this back for you," he smiles as he pulls his shirt from the match out of his bag and drops it in your lap, "just the first of many," he smirks leaning over to kiss you again.

As you exit the car park and make your way towards the street, Christian was right to warn you about the throngs of fans still waiting to catch a glimpse of the players as they leave. A few cars in front of you stop, halting your progress and Christian reaches over to grab your hand, running his thumb over your knuckles soothingly as people approach his car.

He lets his window down, chatting with a few fans, smiling for pictures and signing a few things as you offer to take a few of the pictures as well, hoping to get a better angle for them than a rushed selfie. A young American boy and his parents approach the car, and your heart melts as Christian interacts with him, signing a player card for him and smiling for a picture. You reach over and hand him the jersey from your lap, "he's come a long way to see you," you smile, "and I can always get another."

Christian asks his name, writing him a message and signing the jersey before handing it to him, the little boy squealing overcome with excitement. His mom thanks Christian, tears in her eyes, "you are a lovely couple," she smiles at the two of you as Christian nods and agrees with her.

After they walk away, he rolls his window back up so that you can move on, "you are going to be so much better at this than you think," he beams at you, kissing the back of your hand before pulling onto the street.

You make the drive back to his house, singing along to his playlist, both of you clearly in a good mood and much more relaxed than when he left yesterday. "Take a picture with me," he smiles as he parks his car, leaning over towards you as you rest your head against his, smiling for a selfie in his car, "my mom and sister won't leave me alone," he chuckles, "they love you, too, by the way."

Christian gets out of the car, coming around to open your door and offering you his hand as you step out and shut the door. He presses you against the side of the car, kissing you deeply as you moan softly into his mouth. "I've missed you," he mumbles against your lips, pulling you towards the house.

Once inside you change your shirt quickly, leaving on the same jeans you'd worn to the game, and head to the kitchen, pulling out some snacks and drinks for everyone as you hear them arriving. You all stand around chatting and enjoying a couple of drinks before ordering a minibus to take you to the small pub close by.

As promised, there is live music, but there is a fairly small crowd inside, and for the most part, you are all left alone to enjoy your evening. You are sitting next to Christian, his arm resting on the back of the booth behind you as Mason comes over, asking if you will dance with him as you look over to Christian and he gives you a little nod, rolling his eyes playfully at his friend.

Mason pulls you onto the dance floor, keeping a respectful distance, "he was worried you were going to jump ship after those articles came out," he laughs, spinning you around, "but really, you guys are good together, you're good for him and we are all glad you are here, y/n," he smiles pulling you in for a hug. "Thanks, Mase," you grin back at him as Christian approaches, asking if he can cut in.

You wrap your hands around neck as he pulls you closer to him swaying along with the music as he spins you and dances with you. "I really want to kiss you," he says along the shell of your ear, noticing when you shiver slightly. "Then kiss me, Christian, it's not like they don't all know anyways," you smile sweetly at him. "You sure?" he checks with you one more time, smiling when you nod at him and pull him closer.

He presses his lips to yours, a bit tentatively at first, before throwing caution to the wind and kissing you deeper. You break away laughing when you hear the group cheering for you, "about fucking time," Reece shouts as you walk back over to them hand in hand.

"So guys, we have something to tell you," Christian laughs, "yeah well, I think we already know," Kai says giving him a fist bump.

"Tequila shots?" Mason cheers as he slides shots and limes over to you followed by a salt shaker. Christian grabs it from him, "I've seen you take enough shots off of my girl to last me a lifetime," he says as he tilts your head to the side, licking a stripe along your neck and sprinkling salt over it before placing a lime between your lips.

He finishes off his shot, followed by you doing the same, before standing up and grabbing your hand, "and with that, I'm taking this one home," he chuckles as you both say your goodbyes and he pulls you towards the door.

"I need to get you back in that jersey," he whispers against your neck as you exit the pub and wait for the car he has ordered. "And I need to reward you for that goal you scored," you wink back at him.

Part 6

#christian pulisic #christian pulisic x reader #christian pulisic smut #christian pulisic imagine #unbroken series #nsfr

[flyingfabio]

never said anything bad about yamaha admin, yamaha admin is my best friend

#bro 😵‍💫 #kinda don't want to watch any track action rn so this will do ❤️ #fabio quartararo #motogp #elie.txt #nsfr

[weisscoldglare]

Taking the lead

#weiss schnee #blake belladonna #rwby #monochrome #checkmating #checkmate rwby #monochrome rwby #weiss x blake #blake x weiss #weisblek #nsfr #pg17 #idunno #coldglareshares

[garnetaldebaran]

GP Racing - April 2023

#valtteri bottas #f1 #nsfr #i mean... #(I will not comment further but you can imagine)