im non-binary femme 4 butch or masc, especially attracted to transmasc/non-binary/genderfunky gays that are happy to be included in sapphic attraction under my lesbian sexuality 🗡
i love lesbian history, culture, community, fashion, music, and media ☁️
i am studying a masters degree at university, and i spend a lot of my time distracted by thoughts of butch strap (who said that 😳)
dms open to mutuals for friendship, flirting and sexting (21+!!) 🖤
♟️ nsfw: sub; high femme (?); nipple play; praise; edging, receiving strap; dry humping; thigh riding; lowkey brat; pet names; free use
I need a girl in just underwear grinding on my thigh while I’m shirtless with my jeans still on. Dripping and grinding on my denim while I guide her by the hips or push my fingers down her throat…
making a pretty femme suck on my strap while she grinds against my leg and begs me to fuck her
i pretend not to know what she’s saying, pushing deeper into her mouth and watching her get more desperate for my fingers or my strap—anything to fill her needy cunt.
I want to hold a girl and make her realize how strong I am. I'm small, I wear a lot of layers, I can be nervous and shy and nerdy. But when I help her carry something she'd been struggling with, or help her up from where she's sitting, or she has to stand by me a in a crowded room, she notices. My powerful grip on her hand, my solidity against her body. I want her to wonder how the sharpness of my body would settle against her softness. I want her to see my hands, rough and strong, and wonder how they would feel on her neck, her hips, her chest, inside of her.
Butches please omfg y'all are so scared of coming off as predatory call me a fucking bunny the way I'm tryna be underneath you on the food chain then just BE PERVY
Summary: Jackal's new status as head of security for Sevika means fancy dresses and rubbing elbows with people who consider her a traitor. Her butch sees her for the first time in a pretty dress and can't keep his hands off of her. Decides to take her somewhere with a little more privacy.
Warnings: butchfemme dynamics, he/him lesbian, cunnilingus, nipple piercings, light nipple play, grinding, fingering, mention of size queen femme, light puppy!femme, mentions of subspace, so much yearning, smut with feelings, mentions of strap-ons, unestablished but implied relationship (they're obsessed with each other), mention of watersports/squirting, biting, scratching, hickeys, bruising and marking
Word Count: 9,479 words
When her name is called, introduced to the guests, she feels the familiar pit of dread tightening in her belly. Suddenly the expanse of skin shown beneath the burgundy of this dress feels cold and rotten.
Such a pretty dress, too. Mel had helped with choosing and styling it. It was a low cut, plunging down her chest and stopping just above her navel. The sides of the dress had high-cut slits, exposing her legs, all the way up to the bones of her hips. Black heels adorned her feet and her accessories were bronze earrings and studs in her ears. As well as a delicate, bronze chain brushing her midsection, clipped in by the piercings of her nipples.
Her arms were bare and she had nothing to hold onto. Her thigh didn’t hold the holster of her gun and her back felt exposed without her uniform.
Then they were eyes on her. Her friends, encouraging and some blank. But the guests, the other Council members and the Piltovian people present, it made her tilt her chin upwards.
A sign her mother hated. Scolded her in doing. The memory made the twisting in her gut worsen. “It makes you look like you feel superior to others,” her mother would say.
Of course Jackal did, when it came to her mother. How wouldn’t she feel that way? Especially to a woman who bowed and buckled under a man. Under her father. Who let him push their daughter into what she was.
But the tilt wasn’t on purpose, it was her putting on a brave face. Trying not to care what others saw in her, of her. It didn’t help, not most of the time, and the stoic almost angered features she paired the gesture with, didn’t help her cause.
Now, however, wasn’t the time for reminiscing.
Her arms laid limp at her sides, brushing her thighs on occasion to distract herself. Her eyes scanned the crowd, ignoring the whispers of the Enforcers and their families who were present.
She had seen her friends upon arriving, and had gotten ready with a few. Already said her hellos to Quill and their partners. Now, she was looking for her own.
Or soon to be. Unlabeled for now, really, but she hoped for more soon.
“Shit, lassie,” a warm hand on her back and her shoulders are already relaxing. She smiles, burgundy lipstick adorning her mouth and framing her teeth as she did. “You look…wow, just perfect.”
“That’s very sweet of you,” She says softly, cheeks pink under the makeup she had applied. A skill she had forgotten she had. She sees him bow, sees the curve of his mouth press into her knuckles for a kiss.
“Not too sweet,” His other hand snaked around her, drawing her in, tight like a bow. He looked handsome in his suit, the first button opened and shirt crisp under her touch when she thumbed it. “So many places I should mark up, lassie. You look good ‘nough t’eat.”
Jackal’s face burns as she blinks up at him, frozen as to what to say. She knew he was bold, knew his tongue was quick and brazen, but it still shocked her at times.
“Wanna eat me?” She breathed, leaning up enough to peck his lips, lightly. She then thumbed his bottom lip clean of her the color of her lipstick.
He grunted at this and squeezed her exposed hip. “Always, lassie. You’re mine to.”
Jackal’s eyes widen a fraction, lips parting. She could feel Vanda’s fingers squeeze her hip more, and noticed the worry of the furrow of his brows. She smiled wide, nodding once. “I am yours.”
There’s a small shadow of relief casted on his features and Jackal thinks it’s adorable. Was that really worrying him? That she’d say no? Why would she, he has brought back parts of her she thought she’d never regain. Discovered even newer ones she didn’t know she was capable of feeling.
“Mark me as much as you wish,” She whispers against his mouth when she leans up again, before pressing a firmer kiss on his lips.
She can see Vanda’s jaw tighten and she goes to ask him what was wrong but gets caught off by his hand on her hip shifting. Hot against her back, pressing and guiding her away. She doesn’t argue, simply lets him lead her to a different part of the ballroom.
Eyes followed them, a few still determined to make Jackal and her partner uncomfortable. Unwelcome.
If they only knew, it would never work. That this is the most welcomed and at home she’s ever felt.
“Where are —“
“Lassie,” His voice is clipped, a warning, she can tell. It’s the same tone he gets when he’s going to get his hands on her in ways that would surely leave a mark. “Gimme a minute,” He grits.
Jackal falls silent by his side, hands folded together in front of her as they walk. She feels eyes on them but doesn’t dare to look to where her friends are. Knowing them, they’d be giving her suggestive looks and it wouldn’t help the warmth of her face.
Once they’re outside and the men posted in the hallway close the doors behind the pair, Jackal feels the shift of Vanda beside her. Felt the tightening grip on her back as he half led, half shoved her down the corridor.
“Vanda —“
“Quiet,” The edge of his voice had sharpened and it made Jackal swallow. He sometimes scolded her, but it never sounded so out of place before. Had she messed up somehow?
Jackal doesn’t speak another word, the silence filled with the click of her heels and the echoes of Vanda’s boots. She doesn’t notice until he’s opening the door, but it’s her office he was leading her to. Her brows furrow as she steps inside after he opens the door.
It was something she still couldn’t get used to. Him constantly opening doors for her, pulling out her chair. It made her flush and stutter over her words at times. She could do it herself, they were simple tasks, but he insisted on doting on her in this way.
She wasn’t used to it. It felt foreign.
Jackal always thanked him. Of course she did, but it still felt silly for him to do. It was just a chair, just a door. She could do it herself. But he said he wanted to, enjoyed to, so Jackal was trying her hand at these little gestures.
Ever the gentleman. He was adorable to want to do these things for her.
Her body straightened upon hearing the soft click of the lock behind them. She turned to look at him and noticed how dark his eyes had gotten. The light brown of them had faded, giving way to the black of his pupils.
“Uh, Vanda, what’s —“ His hands on her arms, twisting them around until her back all but slammed against the wall. She doesn’t whimper, it wasn’t painful, but she does muffle a squeak of surprise at his sudden switch of demeanor. There’s a following shiver taking up her body at the cold wall biting into her bare back. Something Vandal sees when he glances down at her makes his grip on her tighten.
“Temptin’ little pup, aren’t’cha?” He croons, voice a husked purr as his fingers trail the sides of her exposed breasts. “ ‘ready perked for attention,” He teases and Jackal follows his gaze to her barely-covered chest.
He was right and she swallowed. Her nipples had perked due to the cold, tantalizing beneath the deep burgundy of her dress. She flushed and looked up at him slowly, first through her lashes before tilting her head back fully.
The sight makes Vandal growl.
“Easy access,” He muttered as he pressed one hand against the wall above her shoulder. Even with her heels, he still towered above her a few more inches. She liked it. She liked it a lot.
His other hand trailed down her exposed chest, from her collarbones down to her midsection. Where the bronze chain connected her piercings lay. He twisted it once around his finger, slowly, while his eyes never left her own.
Vandal gives it a firm tug and smirks when Jackal groans and arches her chest forward. Her styled brows pinch together and her eyes stare at him with a mixture of adoration and pleading.
“Vanda,” Jackal breathes, fingers clasping the lapels of his suit jacket.
“What is it, lass?” Vanda hums, licking his lips as his fingers tug on Jackal’s piercing again. It makes the girl’s fingers tighten and her back to arch further, following his hand. “Present ‘em f’me.”
Jackal doesn’t need further explanation. She knows what he wants. She moves her hands to her chest, opening the dress, easily pulling her breasts free. The dress presses against either side of her chest, has them together, creating cleavage.
Vanda grunts and brings his hand, chain still wrapped around his finger, up to pinch at her nipple. Jackal gasps and her thighs almost give. His thigh is pressing into her, through the flap of her dress, exposing up her creamy thighs. It makes her whine at the friction.
“Don’t hafta check t’know you’re bare f’me too,” He hums, feeling the warmth of her cunt against the trapped skin of his thigh. Always shaven and smooth, always presented to him when he asked her to do so. “Janna, lass, you’re beautiful.”
Jackal isn’t allowed the moment to thank him, before his lips are on hers. She kisses back eagerly, no longer caring of the smudge of dark lipstick against his mouth. Her fingers wrap around his lapels again, pulling him closer, grinding against him and mewling when her nipple is twisted in his touch.
“Puppy’s so vocal today,” He groans against her mouth, sucking on her bottom lip. Jackal’s neck is craned forward, tilted up to meet his mouth, groaning as he bites her lower lip. Not enough to split, but enough to make her cunt twitch like he likes against his thigh.
“I-I –“ Jackal breathes when Vanda pulls back, face still tilted forward as he presses his own to the side of her neck.
She shivers at feeling the inhale of breath, the groan that follows when he takes a lungful of the warmth of her skin. And the perfume she is wearing. Janna, he’d smuggle her buckets of this scent. “Fuck, that’s a pretty smell, lass,” He licks the side of her neck, following the swirls of her black ink.
He remembered the story of it. That she felt like her worth was tied to her abilities. Once beaten and bruised into her. She was nothing but a marksman. Especially after her breakup with her ex. It had left her whirling and unsteady, alone.
Had solidified to Jackal that yes, she is just her ability and nothing more.
He’s happy that he could somehow change that little by little. But the tattoo had always been breathtaking, meaning and all.
Her dominant hand, her left. Blackened ring and pinkie fingers, black sleeve up to her elbow where it broke in tendrils. Up her arm and engulfing her left shoulder and scapula. How it whirls around her neck, against her collarbones.
It’s the only tattoo she has, yet she chose the hardest thing to heal. The hardest parts of her body to feel the needle against.
It only showed a fraction of how strong she is.
“Thank you,” She smiles a little at the compliment. Vanda can tell even as he mouths at her neck and sucks on it after that she’s smiling.
Jackal’s hands slide up Vanda’s arms, past his shoulders to knot in his hair. She liked how the ends of it curled and tickled his neck. The color is vivid and rich. A navy reminiscent of the ocean at night.
The first time she wishes to see the ocean. Just to confirm that its color is dim in comparison to his own.
“Should wear it more,” He mumbles against her pulse before sinking his teeth into her. Jackal’s stomach jolts and her hips twitch in surprise.
Her sound is of pleasure, a soft, half-chocked moan makes Vanda’s own cunt throb. She always sounded so pretty when he played with her.
“Used to,” Jackal breathes, licking her lips. “Stopped once I went to Zaun.”
Vanda groans, teeth sinking a little harder into her. It made her fingers in his hair tighten and for her hips to buck, grinding herself against his thigh. The thought of Jackal, soft body and innocent, fresh out of Piltover made him feel animalistic.
Janna, how he wished he could’ve gotten his hands on her sooner. Quicker. Better.
He would’ve taken his time with her, yes, just like he did this time. The wait might’ve been longer, though, so much longer. It took him months before he used anything but his fingers or his mouth on her, before he all but felt her cunt around his strap.
He wouldn’t have hurt her like she had been. The woman seemed poised enough — Jackal’s ex, he had seen her, but her newest girl was anything but. Had made Jackal cry the first night he had kissed her.
Vandal wouldn’t go anywhere. There was nothing else to look for he wouldn’t find in her.
It just took a while to find her.
“Vanda,” She whined when his mouth froze for a second too long on her neck. She tugs on his hair and he groans low against her throat when he brushes his lips into the spot, feeling her swallow against his lips. “Please kiss me.”
The older grunts and pulls his face from her throat to properly slot his mouth against hers again. The smear of her lipstick would be hell to clean up, especially how dark it was, but he couldn’t care right now. He just needed to taste her mouth on his.
His thumb worked against her nipple and he felt the shuddering breath on his lips in turn. It made him smirk and move his hand on the wall to cup her other breast, give it the same pinching to her nipple. Jackal bit his lip in reply, slow and drawn, sucking it into her mouth.
“Hurts,” Jackal mumbles against his mouth, a breathless, pleased sound. She enjoyed having her breasts toyed with like this. Always sensitive but now, with the piercings, the toying of them alone could make her slick.
“Yeah?” Vanda teases, swallowing her moan when he tugs the chain a little harder. “Hurt nice ‘n’ good, lass?”
Jackal nods, mouth parted against his own, awaiting his next kiss. He sometimes teases and pulls back just to see her scramble forward with her eyes closed, until she pouts and cracks her eyes open to beg silently. Adorably.
Vanda can’t bring himself to tease like that right now. He’s crashing his mouth so hard against hers, she hums high-pitched in surprise in his hands. She doesn’t hesitate, sweet thing, she never did. She kisses back just as hungry, trailing his lower lip with her tongue when his hands drop to squeeze her exposed thighs.
“Gonna ruin yer dress,” He groans, reaching to tug the panel of it from her cunt, feel it closer against his thigh and making him shiver. “Look at that,” He teases and brings the panel up to her eye-level.
Jackal’s cheeks flush at the trail of her arousal. Small, concealable between the wrinkles of the dress, hopefully, when they’re out of here.
He doesn’t stop there, however, just bows a little, eyes on hers still. Jackal’s lips part in surprise when he licks the patch of fabric. “Don’t –“
“Don’t?” there’s a challenge beneath his tone. One that she has been hearing more of recently. Like he’s changing a little and she couldn’t figure out why. “You ‘nd your delicious little cunt ‘re mine.”
“Wh – I, yes, but –“
“But what, lassie?” He drops the panel and presses his thigh into her more, griping at her thighs. Jackal’s skin recognizes the touch, it’ll know it should bruise over just from this. For him. Always for him.
“Suddenly don’t wanna be a good girl f’me?” He teases, leaning down to brush his lips against her cheek before kissing the spot.
“Yes, always wanna be good,” She nods, cupping the back of his neck as his mouth kisses down the opposite side of her neck. The side he hasn’t kissed or bitten yet. “But w-what if they look for us?”
“Want me to stop, lass?” His question is quick and he smirks at feeling Jackal’s arms wrap around him. Tighten around his neck.
“No, no, don’t stop, please,” Jackal’s voice is soft and meek. She was always putty in his hands. As they massage her thighs and pull her closer. She moans at the friction.
“Gonna get my pants soaked?” He teases his lips down the side of her neck. Vanda loves how it makes her shiver a little when he does. Just this is enough to rile her up.
Every nerve of her body knows it’s him. Every single one reacts accordingly, too. It makes his head buzz with excitement at her submission, how pliant she’s already becoming from his treatment.
“Sorry, I –“
“No, don’t be sorry, lassie,” He kisses her jaw before sucking a mark there. On a spot where he knows will be evident later. That people will see and notice. “Love when you’re leavin’ marks on me.”
“Me too,” Jackal tightens her arms a fraction more around him. It made him smile and bite the soft jaw against his mouth.
She groans, grinding against his thigh, squeezing it with her own. She could even feel how warm he was beneath his trousers, probably trapped against his boxers.
“Like being owned?” He mocks, pulling his face from her neck, feeling her grip loosen. Blindly following orders without Vanda even having to say them.
There’s a soft purse to her lips and a furrow of her brows to accentuate the look. Her lips are smeared with her lipstick, even on her chin. He knows he must have a similar look on his own face.
Marked in her lipstick stains.
Vanda’s hands slide up to grip Jackal’s side. Calloused, rough fingers digging into soft, supple skin just made for him to touch.
“Answer, lassie,” He squeezes her waist, pressing his knee flush against her cunt. He receives a pleasant gasp and a soft arch of her back in turn. “Lil’ brain ‘ready off?”
Jackal swallows past the expanse of emptiness in her chest. A warm feeling that spreads across her pleasantly, leaves her breathing a little deeper. To try and fill the space but knows it won’t work.
It was a void only he could fill.
“N-No,” She stammers, but her voice is still steady, just softer. It hasn’t changed, hasn’t gotten high-pitched and ditzy.
Good, he didn’t want that for her now. It wouldn’t be fair to dip her into her subspace and yank her back out at his own time. He loved to have her enjoy her submission, for her to smile and giggle with such innocence it makes him want to break it. To toy with her until her brain understood she’s being touched and just flushed a dark shade of pink. Still smiling and giggling even as she’s slick against his fingers.
She was always so pliant for him. It had become worse, however, as time passed. Even recently, just the sight of him or the scent of him has her shoulders relaxing. Has her slipping in ways she never allowed herself to.
She knows it’s okay to slip now.
That he’d be there to hold her up.
“Good, need ya to stay with me,” He hums, pressing a kiss to her mouth. Hard enough to make her squeak in surprise against his lips.
His hands grip her waist, guide her movements on this thigh. She’s feverish against him, even through his trousers.
It’s scorching. A heat he never wants to forget or stray from. That makes him feel alive in ways he hasn’t been in years.
She nods against his mouth, tightening her arms around his neck. She rolls her hips against his thigh, feeling herself clench around nothing. It makes her moan softly, has his hands dropping to her hips again to guide them against himself.
The dampness of his own boxers makes him remember he didn’t hard pack. Ran and Sevika had told him to, but he thought it would be ridiculous at such an event.
He won’t admit to them he should have listened.
That he wants to feel her, see her around him right now. There was always later tonight, once this was all over. He could lay her in his – their – bed and ravish her until she smeared her makeup. Till her cheeks ran charcoal.
Their bed, it basically hers too. She spent so much time over at his place. He spent so much time in hers.
Why hasn’t he asked her to stay permanently? Or to be his officially? Why hasn’t he asked those questions? It’s not like he needed to look anywhere else.
“God, baby,” His voice was hoarse and restrained, Jackal could tell. Even the shiver down her back knew it, too. He wants to feel her cum, but can’t like this. The twitching of her cunt was intoxicating but not satiating like he needed. “C’mere.”
He picks her up with ease and her legs wrap around him. Her hands cupping the back of his neck for stability. Her cheeks flush pretty and dark beneath the soft shimmer of her cheeks and the faux pink that colors it. He wants to see beneath it.
The make up is pretty, it accentuates her face lovingly. But he wants nothing more than to see the natural hue of her cheeks brighten up her face.
“Your leg,” She reminds, always cautious of his concurring aches of his left knee and calf. Phantom pains or sometimes his prosthetic being extra difficult for the day. She didn’t want to aggravate that further. “You don’t —“
“I want to, lassie,” He cuts in, quick, thudding strides taking him to behind her desk. “Ya don’t weigh nothin’.”
Jackal swallows, heart leaping as he pulls her dress to the side, making her shiver as the cold wood bites into her ass. Her hands blindly reach back to clear the desk, pushing everything to the sides, as he closes the distance of their mouths again. His tongue pushes past her lips, swirling against her own and making her throb. The brush of her dress against her neglected cunt makes her whine into his mouth.
“Sound so fuckin’ pretty,” He groans, hands moving to push the flimsy panel of her dress out of his way. To finally rub his fingertips against her cunt and feel how slick she was from a little kissing and grinding.
It was always so cute how needy she got for him, without a lot of prompting. Just melting for him.
Jackal’s face burned, her arms tightening around his neck and groaning as he traced her lips. Her clit is twitching and her entrance flutters around nothing, soon being filled with his middle finger. She moans, lifting her hips slightly to try and get more of him, which she’s granted with.
He normally teases her but he knows he can’t hold the urge any longer. He needs his hands on her, needs his mouth on her cunt, as well. There was so much Vanda wanted to do to her right and he couldn’t.
“Please,” it's breathless and broken. It makes Vanda grow wetter against his boxers and the divine heat of Jackal’s cunt is not helping.
He pulls his finger back before sinking it into her again. He sucks on her bottom lip as he pushes in a second finger, feeling the pleasant resistance for only a second. Jackal’s breath becomes a soft sigh at the quick stretch, thoroughly enjoying her cunt taking his fingers with such ease. She’s taken way more of this from him, but his touch always sends pleasure up her spine. No matter what it was.
“Always wet f’me,” He kisses her cheek, then her jaw before his mouth brushes against the side of her neck.
There’s a shudder running up Jackal’s spine in turn. It straightens every pore of her body as the chain brushing across her midsection worsens it.
Vanda can feel Jackal’s cunt tighten in turn and he smirks against her neck. He licks a spot of skin before sucking it into his mouth, curling his fingers inside of her just to feel her hips buck in surprise.
“Needed it that bad?” He teases, biting her neck with slow pressure. Building up the pain until Jackal’s breathing turns into pants and she’s baring her neck for the older woman. Her eyelashes fluttered and her fingers tangled into his hair to hold him against her.
“Needed you,” Jackal corrects, blunt nails scratching his scalp and making him grunt into her skin. He soothes the mark of his teeth with his tongue, fingers moving a fraction faster inside of Jackal’s heat.
The younger gasps and bares her throat for him, moaning as he fucks her with steady purpose. He scissors his fingers open just to feel the little tremble of her thighs when he does. How it stretches her further.
“There y’go,” He moans, sucking on a patch of skin on her neck as he feels her cunt fluttering around him. He feels himself throb into his boxers in turn, wishing he could feel the wet slide of her cunt against his own.
Vanda feels Jackal’s cunt ease open around his intrusion, how her body accepts anything it’s given. It had driven him crazy the first time he fucked her on his fingers, tasted her on his tongue. It had gotten worse when he filled her with his dick for the first time and saw her body sink into the mattress and thighs tremble with anticipation of more.
The picture of it had him fucking his hand for hours when he was alone. She had buried herself so deeply into his brain, he’s surprised she hasn’t been there the entire time. In a few short months, she’s all he ever thinks about.
“Feel so pretty around me, lass,” He husks against the shell of her ear, feeling her shudder beneath his breath. He pushes in a third finger and smirks as she moans louder, bucking her hips as she’s stretched more.
Jackal bites into the back of her wrist to muffle anymore sounds. Face half-pressed into his shoulder as she winds him even closer to her. She whimpers as he curls his fingers, hearing the eager churning of her cunt.
“Janna, yer fuckin’ soaked,” Vanda hisses as she tightens her cunt around him. He can’t help the buck of his own hips, wishing she was wound this tightly around his dick instead.
“Hmph,” She huffs against her wrist, digging her teeth into the skin when he presses his palm to her clit. She moans muffled, grinding into his palm and feeling her wetness stick to him.
“I know, lass, I know,” He teases, spreading her open with his fingers to feel the twitch of her cunt in turn. Jackal moans, parting her thighs further for the woman slotted between them.
“Should be my dick,” He grunts, giving her cunt a sharp curl and feeling her whimper. She pants, digging her teeth harder into her own flesh and moaning again as he traces her cervix.
He does it on purpose, curling his fingers just in the upwards dip of her walls. A spot that made her more vocal, made her lose control and feel full.
“Mm,” She cried when he abused that spot, thighs trembling, hips bucking. Grinding on his calloused palm, feeling the way her slick was nearly pooling beneath her.
“Use yer teeth on me, lass,” He nudged her jaw with his nose. “Let me feel how much I pleasure ya.”
Jackal feels the squeak of her skin pulling from her teeth, shifting her arm away to sink them into the tender spot of the curve of his neck. He groans, tilting his head for her as she grinds into his palm without a thought. Without a care.
Her fingers dig into the back of his neck, keeping him as close as she can. She moans into him when he rubs his rough, calloused palm into her clit, raising her hips to meet him more flush.
“Atta girl,” Vanda croaks, groaning again when she digs her teeth in a little harder into his neck. There’s a low throb of his cunt inside his boxers at the feeling of her coiled around him like this.
“Hmph,” She huffs against his skin, eyes fluttering and feeling damp with tears. She doesn’t want to cry right now. She can fix the smudging of her lipstick but running mascara would never be fully salvageable.
“Aw,” Vanda chides, curling his fingers particularly hard once more just to hear her yelp and tighten around him. “Gotta be quiet, lass.”
Jackal whines against him, brows furrowed and throat tight with the strain to do as told. She doesn’t argue with him, doesn’t pull back to say she cannot be quiet. Because that’s not what he wants or what Jackal wants to do right now. She doesn’t want him to stop touching her like this.
“That’s a good girl, lass,” Vanda moans at feeling her insides twitch around him. And feel the strangled, wonderful whimper she’s trying to swallow down. “I know, ‘m being so mean t’my girl. But she c’n take it, ain’t that right?”
Jackal nods against him, teeth still barricading a patch of his skin. Her hips keep raising, circling against his palm, only allowing herself panting breaths against him as she chases her orgasm. She grips him tighter, whimpering despite herself into his skin.
“Ah, yer close,” Vandal notes, wrapping his other arm around her, moving it from bracing against the desk. He holds her close, slamming his fingers into her while he swipes his thumb up her pussy. Pressing into her clit to run circles into.
Jackal sobs in pleasure, one hand coming down to brace on the wood. Slapping the oak as she tried to dig her nails into it. Clawing desperately as she heard the welch of her pussy around Vanda’s fingers.
“Give it t’me, lass, fuck, c’mon,” Vanda growls, panting against Jackal’s shoulder where he’s folded himself around her. Cradling her body close to his own, belly pressed into hers. He can’t bring himself to look down at the mess he feels, he knows himself well enough to feel the way his need to taste her grows.
“Ya wanna be my good girl, right? The fuckin’ cum f’me,” His voice darkens far more than Jackal expects. Her body bucks in surprise and she screws her eyes shut.
She can’t stop herself from coming hard, moaning into him, clawing his back through his suit jacket and shirt. Hips bucking and circling into his hand while her pussy pulses around him. Begs to be filled by more as it sucks him in deeper. Her thighs are trembling as he presses into the familiar pressure just above her pubis.
She gasps and pulls her teeth from his skin. Her voice is hoarse and thick. “N-No, don’t press there —“ But she knows why he’s doing it. He loves seeing her make a mess of herself.
“Want you to cum one more time f’me,” He growls, shoving her back to lay on her desk. Jackal doesn’t fight it, can’t as she’s still trying to regain her breathing.
She just lays back as she’s being ordered to and hikes her heels at the edge of the desk. Spread for Vanda to see and the woman curses at the sight. That’s what he wants and he can’t fight the urge anymore.
He drops to his knees, ignoring the creak of his prosthetic. He pulls his fingers from her cunt and sees her raise her hips a fraction. He yanks her lower to the edge just to hear her squeal.
“Vanda —“
“Hold yer thighs open,” He interjects, thumbing her twitching clit to hear her gasp and try to arch away from his touch. He only presses and rubs her harder. “Ya listenin’?” He growls, watching the thick slick that coats his fingers smear it against her dark pussy.
“Sorry, sorry,” Jackal nods, reaching down to hold her thighs spread, fingers sinking into the meat. She pulls her legs up, allowing him full access to her wet cunt.
“Jus’ wanna clean ya up,” Vanda groans as he leans forward to finally give her pussy a stroke of his tongue. He can instantly feel her twitching against his touch and she whines.
“Fuck,” Jackal curses as Vanda teases her clit with the tip of his tongue. As it trails down her lips and presses into her slowly. He’s not wasting time right now. He wants to feel Jackal coat his face and cum around his tongue.
He knows how loud she can get, so he shifts forward and pushes his wet fingers past her parted lips. Jackal jolts in surprise but is soon moaning around them and hollowing her cheeks. Her tongue on his fingers is making him painfully hard against his boxers. The material feels like it’ll make him cum alone and he’ll be damned if he does.
Vanda needs to cum while impaling Jackal onto his biggest strap after working her open like this. She’ll need it after, he knows it. Her cunt is already swallowing his tongue in. Warm, velvety walls squeezing around him. The girl was delicious to train open, made to take whatever he wanted to give her. She takes it so easily after being worked up and made to cum more than she can handle.
And only he had done it. She had taken bigger and bigger until she went nonverbal. Until the only way she communicated with him was through whines and soft, puppy-dog eyes.
“Hm,” She hums around him, toes curling in her heels as she grinds into his face. Vanda moans and presses his face into her, tongue curling into her cunt.
Jackal bites his fingers, trying to keep quiet but a strangled little moan slips past. Vanda feels proud that he can get her like this. She’s trying so hard to be quiet — to be good for him — but he also wants everyone to hear.
Every person that had glared at her when she walked in. At the people that commented on her enticing frame and pretty ink.
Wanted them all to know she wasn’t alone. She had someone to look after her, take care of her, make her feel good. More pleasure than she knew what to do with. More pleasure than anyone before him. He’d erase every bad memory and replace it with good ones.
He only wants her. Hasn’t wanted anyone this bad in a long time. Hasn’t felt his heart give way to someone so quickly, effortlessly. It had even scared him at first.
His eyes have long since shut. His nose nudged Jackal’s clit as his tongue stroked her trembling insides. Her thighs jolted and so did the soft curve of her belly beneath his touch. He could feel it against his bicep, how it pressed into her lovely softness.
“Hm,” Jackal whines around his fingers and he spreads them open inside her mouth. Her tongue laps her own arousal between them. Her hand squeezing his wrist in timed bursts — he didn’t even realize she had let go of one of her legs. Now dangling over his shoulder. Everything makes him feel ravenous, even with his tongue fucking her like this.
He can feel Jackal’s desperation with each flex of her fingers around his wrist. Her other hand wrapped around his wrist after letting go of her other leg, using it as an anchor. Her body arched against his arm, cradling it between her breasts as her eyes fluttered closed.
Vanda hums against Jackal’s pussy, pressing his face firmer against her wet flesh. The younger moans, twitching around the intrusion of Vanda’s tongue. Arching into his mouth more while one hand drops to knit into his hair, tugging him closer, biting into his knuckles.
He nudged Jackal’s clit with his nose, tongue pressing deeply into her. His free hand braced against her thigh, feeling her jolt in surprise at the burning of his skin against the cooled sheen of her own.
His touch set her aflame, like every nerve had turned into red-hot, sparking wires. She moans, pausing her own tongue to sink her teeth at his knuckles. Practically huffing against his skin to try and keep quiet.
Vanda wanted to taunt her, tell her she’s so utterly desperate for him. Tease her about how wet she is and how much she’s twitching. But that would mean having to pull his face from her cunt, and he didn’t want that. Not until she came.
Jackal slurs around his fingers, trying to speak. “ ‘ose.” She chokes as he presses his fingers deeper into her mouth, shifting forward.
The younger moans and thighs twitch as Vanda’s face is pressed harder against her cunt. Her stomach jolts, rippling like the soft cresting of the waves he’s so used to feeling. It’s like every part of her reminded him of his home. She was his lighthouse, but has enraptured him like a siren. Like the mere sailor he was.
He hopes she never stops singing her song.
“Hm,” Her broken whimper snaps him out of his daze. He had slowed down the thrusting and curling of his tongue and she had become desperate. Her fingernails scratching his scalp as her fingers tighten in the strands of his hair.
He moans at the twitching feeling of her slick cunt, still trying to swallow him entirely. He taps on her tongue and she immediately parts her lips for him to pull the digits from her wet mouth. She licks her lips, whining as his fingers trace her rim as he pulls his tongue from inside of her.
Vanda’s tongue licks up her sensitive lips, pressing his bottom lip into the seizing flesh of her clit. Jackal gasps as all three of his spit-coated fingers are pressed into her.
“Shh,” He clicks his tongue, pressing a kiss to her inner thigh as he works hind fingers inside of her again. He nips at her skin, smirking at the sensation of her pussy fluttering around him. “There y’go, m’pretty girl.”
Vanda sucks on Jackal’s inner thigh, his hand pushing her other leg up. To have her open for him. It makes her twitch around his fingers more and she groans against her.
“What, hm?” He taunts, fingers pumping deep and slow. Not curling to rub the inside of her clit like he liked to do. Reminds him of the first time he had done it, and she almost scrambled away in surprise at how deep he had gone. With just his fingers.
“Please — wanna, please,” She muttered, chewing on her lower lip.
“Wanna what, lass?” He teases, slowly curling his fingers but only barely brushing the spot he knew all too well. Jackal whimpered and her eyes watered, blinking hard down at him, trying to keep her eyes as dry as possible. Failing miserably. “Use ya words.”
Jackal swallowed, heart hammering. It was still embarrassing to ask him, tell him she wanted to cum. She doesn’t think she’ll ever get used to it. Or the way his eyes stare so deeply into her own, it feels like he’s stripping her naked and peering into her soul.
“Wanna cum,” She mutters to him, voice soft and quiet. “Please.”
“Atta girl,” Vanda purrs, tongue flat and working against Jackal’s clit. The younger moans, rolling her body against the intrusion of his fingers and the swirling motion of his tongue on her.
“Van —“ Jackal cuts herself off with another sharp gasp as Vanda curls his fingers in time with his gentle sucking of her clit. Abusing the spot from inside and outside her body.
Enough where she’s arching her back, both hands tight in his hair as her thighs quiver recklessly. His free hand is digging into her thigh when Jackal tries to snap them closed around his head. Growling into her cunt and feeling her clit twitch against his tongue.
“Hm,” Jackal purses her lips, eyebrows drawn tight together. Almost crying out when Vanda’s fingers curled harder, impossibly rougher, inside of her. She raises her hips, pushing them up with her back against the wood.
Her head tilts back, crushing the soft, glossy curls that adorned her head. While chewing her bottom lip, huffing against her skin, eyes shut tight. She could feel the prickle of the lash bands biting into her eyelids.
Vandal stares at the column of the girl’s exposed neck. Eyeing his handiwork in the dark hickeys he applied there, immediately finding the pulse of her neck thumping beneath her pale skin.
He growls against her slick, twitching flesh just to have her thigh press closer against the side of his face. He doesn’t mind when she squeezes his head with her thighs but right now, he wanted space to truly taste her. To make her cum before they had to leave. So he keeps a firm grip on her other thigh, to keep it spread.
They’ve already been away from the party long enough. People will surely start looking for Jackal soon.
“Hm–ah,” Jackal’s fingers tighten in his hair, head tolling to the side. Enough to glance down at him after fluttering her eyes open, feel her heart lurch at finding him already staring at her. It makes a soft, high-pitched sound of surprise rumble from her lips as her thigh presses into his face more.
Vanda pumps his fingers, groaning at the sound of how wet Jackal was. She must be dripping all over the desk beneath her, too. What a waste.
His tongue stroked her clit, fingers curling and scissoring her open. To give her that stretch, that little ache she went dumb for. It worked. She had moaned beautifully despite being told to be quiet, despite wanting to be — be good.
“Sorry,” She croaked, bringing a hand up to cover her mouth as another moan was pulled from her. Vanda continues his slow scissoring of her cunt, open and wet, practically welching obscenely around his intrusion.
Her cunt is tightening around his fingers and despite having one of her thighs pressing into his ear, can tell her breathing is quickening. He presses his nose against her mound, tongue lapping expert circles around her clit while his fingers abuse the same point from a different spot.
It always made her make a mess, would be a bigger mess if he pressed just right over her bladder. Any kind of mess. But they couldn’t afford that now. Jackal could ruin her dress or she could ruin his suit and they still had the rest of the night to go.
He grunts against her, feeling how she gasps and bucks into his mouth. Her cunt squeezes him one last time before she’s moaning decadently into the air. Her thighs quiver and her pussy seizes around his fingers. She sobs as the sting of pain engulfed her more, making her orgasm more intensely.
Jackal’s fingers tug on his hair as she moans, stuttering out his name as she does so. She loved having his name on her tongue when she came because of him. Even if he was there or not.
Vanda’s tongue slowed along with his fingers, which were hardly moving due to how tight she felt. Still trembling around his intrusion but greedily meeting her hips against his fingers.
He pulled back to lick his lips, not moving his fingers from inside of her. He leans over to kiss her thigh where he had gripped it. Noticing the bruises that were beginning to already grow there. His golden canines nipped at a random bruise before he kissed it again.
“Gripped ya too hard,” His voice is still hoarse. Lack of use and still so much need hiding beneath it. This was barely enough for him but they needed to go. They’ve already taken too much time.
“S’okay, like it,” Jackal breathes, licking her lips.
Vanda chuckles, kissing another spot on Jackal’s thigh in tandem with pulling his fingers free of her cunt. She had made a soft dejected sound, arching her back forward but still loosening her fingers in his hair.
He bared his teeth, grunting as her still-twitching flesh was offered to him so openly. He leans down to press a damp kiss to the gentle curve of her pudge of her belly. Soft skin against his touch, so much of her to touch and mark.
“Naughty lass,” He groans, pressing another kiss to her navel as he grunts into her skin while standing. Feeling her fingers drop from his hair and brace against the wood. His knees creaked and complained, but he didn’t mind the ache of them as he stood and kissed his way up her body.
Kisses through the material of her dress until he was able to cup the back of her head with his clean hand. To pull her up and hear and feel her giggle at his strength. Her lips, curved into a smile, contagious, reflecting back on him. He couldn’t help but smile back before pressing his lips into her own.
Jackal kisses back, wrapping an arm around his neck. Another giggle flutters out of her, muffled by his mouth, when he pulls her up. To sit.
“Temptin’,” He hums when she slides her other hand down his chest. Between his breasts and toying with a button of his dress shirt. “We gotta go back, lass. How ‘bout after, hm? Think ya can wait?”
“Mm-hm,” She hums in agreement, nodding softly as she leans closer to kiss him again. She wraps her other arm around his neck while his arm snakes around her waist. Vanda’s cautious of his wet fingers, not wanting to smear the arousal on her dress.
Jackal’s face feels warm at tasting herself on him again. Vanda can feel the blush and smirks against her mouth.
“Hm,” Jackal pulls back, kissing his cheek. “I have —“
“Clean cloths in your drawer,” He cuts in, knowing what she’d say. He was the one who put them there in the first place.
Jackal bites on her lower lip, trying to suppress her smile as she nods. She knows where he left them, knows he does, too. It was a silly thing to say when he’s the one that prepared her office so thoroughly for when he’s here with her.
Vanda gives her dark pink lips a quick peck before he’s pulling back, feeling her arms unwind from around him. He walks over one of the low drawers of the wooden desk, fetching one of the soft cloths he had folded away neatly there.
Jackal appreciates that his free hand is on her thigh as he moves away a little. Only stepping aside from where he stood between her parted thighs. So close her knee is trapped between his thighs as he leans over to get the cloth.
“Look up,” He says simply and Jackal tilts her chin up, humming as he wipes her face first. Careful of the makeup that hasn’t been smudged and wiping at the dark burgundy stains of lipstick on her.
Her eyes are on his as he does this, lips parted as he wipes them. Vanda can feel his face utterly flush at her stare, at how her soft lips crack into a smile even as he’s wiping them clean.
“What ‘s it?” He grumbles playfully, licking his lips before pecking another kiss onto Jackal’s.
“Nothin’,” She giggles, nose scrunching in laughter as he wipes his own face and fingers clean next. It makes her face darken, for her chest to feel tight. “What, can’t look at’cha?” Her voice is soft and playful.
“Course you can,” He chuckles, bracing his hands on either side of her thighs on the desk to lean into her. Just to see her shrink into herself and beam at it all. It made his heart squeeze in his chest at how precious she looked, even if she still had her breasts out and adorned and her face smeared with their elation.
There’s another giggle squeezing past her lips as he kisses each of her cheeks. The soft, supple roundness of them he often pinched so hard she hissed in glee.
Jackal takes the cloth from his hand to clean at his own mouth, wiping away her lipstick from his face. He grunted in playful annoyance. He wouldn’t have minded being adorned in her lipstick stains while they rejoined the others.
“Open,” he tapped her thigh. “Lemme clean ya.”
Jacks shifts her hips, parting her thighs further for him. She’s unable to make eye contact with him as he wipes the cloth across her inner thighs.
There’s a soft whimper caught in the back of her throat as he brushes her cunt with the cloth. It’s soft but she’s still sensitive and she can feel the dull ache fill up her back. Shivering a little as her slick is moped up by the cloth.
He kisses her cheek as she pulls her dress closed again. Covering up her breasts but her nipples indent the gentle fabric. Her chain of her piercings rested comfortably between them.
“Wonder if y’can stand,” Vanda voices as he discards the cloth in a little bag in the same drawer. Everything tucked away and neat before he closes it with his foot. He now knows he needs to add a strap on to this drawer. He wonders why he didn’t think about it sooner.
“Might need help,” Jackal shifts to the edge of the desk, hands on Vanda’s shoulders for leverage. His hands find her waist before she can move further.
He’s picking her up, receiving her arms tightening around his neck and a soft giggle brushing his ear as he sets her on her feet. There’s a soft tremble of her thighs as he tightens his fingers at her waist.
“Ya okay, lass?” he smirks playfully, kissing her soft jaw.
“M’fine,” Jackal smiles, cupping the back of Vanda’s head as she holds him close while he kisses her neck. Chaste and soft, while his hands squeeze the supple skin of her waist.
Jackal tilts her chin back in time with Vanda dipping her, just to have enough space to kiss the center of her throat. Jackal’s fingers tighten around his neck as she’s dipped, giggling as she’s quickly straightened up again by his steady hands.
“I —“ Jackal’s cut off by a sharp knock at the door. Thrice and firm. She knew who it was immediately. “Come in, Anais.”
The doctor pushed the door open, glanced around the room and narrowed her eyes as soon as she saw the pair. She stepped inside and shoved the door closed.
She had picked a lovely, vibrant pink dress, almost muted in its color. Bell sleeves low on her arms and exposing her shoulders and collarbones. The gown long and bunching around her feet. A pendant sat high on her chest against her sun-adored skin, while her black and gray-streaked hair was mostly up. Short strands and curling ends framing her face. Her eyes were dark brown and her freckled nose and cheeks were scrunched up in displeasure.
“You and your lover boy have no class,” Anais said in a grunt, heels clicking over as Jackal and Vanda moved around the desk. Away from it and towards her. “Really?” She gestures at Jackal’s makeup.
“It could’ve been worse,” Vanda shrugs, laughing when Anais hits his arm with her clutch purse. That’s when Jackal notices the small, canvas-bound spiral in her hand. It looked full and fastened tightly.
“You’re supposed to be rubbing elbows with the rest of us,” Anais shoves the canvas spiral to Jackal’s hands. “Get fixed up and let’s go.”
“Oh!” Jackal exclaims and she turns to sit on her desk, unrolling the canvas. It was her makeup, or at least, enough of it to touch up. Powder, concealer, and her burgundy lipstick along with a few brushes — stained and used from only a few hours prior.
“You two, seriously,” Anais groans, tucking a stray curl behind her ear. “People are asking about you, Jackal. What is the head of security doing weaseled away with her boyfriend?”
Jackal’s face burns at the use of boyfriend, but doesn’t feel like correcting Anais at the moment. Vanda seemed to fall silent to comment too, and she can’t look up at him and risk making it worse.
Too bad. She had missed his smile cracking and livening his face up. Brows raised in a prideful gleam.
Anais doesn’t miss it and rolls her eyes at the reaction he gets from her. She eyes Jackal and then to him, narrowing her eyes in a way that means ‘What are you waiting for to ask?’
Everyone knew about Jackal and Vanda, how inseparable they had become. Hell, there was barely a chance to catch them alone most of the time. It was sickly sweet, but Anais — like everyone else — knew about Jackal’s bad end to her last relationship. She wouldn’t stand for the youngest of them to be dragged along by a handsome woman.
Jackal had managed to fix her makeup in a few, short minutes. Drowned in the silence of the room and the sudden stillness of it all. She rolled everything back up after applying her lipstick again, standing to flatten out her dress and hand it back to Anais.
The older snatches it playfully and narrows her eyes at her. “You’re lucky I decided to bring this,” Anais gestures with the spiral canvas, pointing it like a finger at the younger. “I knew you two would pull this crap.”
“Didn’t do nothin’,” Vanda grumbles and wraps an arm around Jackal’s waist, pulling the girl flush against his side. “Plus she looked too good t’resist.”
Anais crinkled her nose and grimaced at the wording. “I hate you all,” She turns on her heels to walk out, opening the door and glaring back at the pair. “Hurry up and try to be civil out here.”
Neither can reply before she’s out the door and slamming it behind her. It makes Jackal giggle and Vanda to squeeze her and kiss the crown of her head, fighting the smile across his face.
“C’mon, let’s get this over with,” Jackal says, voice still bright and happy despite having to face so many uptight Piltovians.
Good. She should always be happy. He always wants to make her happy. His heart picks up a little at his own thought, smiling against her head and pressing another kiss there.
“Mm, I guess ya got a point,” Vandal steps forward, dropping his hand to knit with her own. Smiling as he feels her squeeze his hand back.
He guides her to the door, opening it for her and beaming when she thanks him softly. He closes the door after himself, hand still weaved with hers.
Before they step back into the ballroom, he pauses, leans down to press a firm kiss to her cheek. It surprises her, makes her crinkle her nose and giggle in delight.
“Think ya can join me at my place ‘fter this?” His free hand finds her bare hip, moving the fabric of her dress aside to do so. To squeeze and hear her hum. “So much I wanna do to ya.”
Jackal’s smile is innocent but her eyes give a mischievous gleam that even has Vanda’s blood thrumming with excitement. Before he pulls back fully, Jackal’s hands are at his lapels again, pulling him in and pressing a firm kiss to his jaw. Then the side of his throat.
It makes Vanda groan at the feeling. Has him huffing out a laugh as Jackal looks up at him and tilts her head.
“Thought you’d never ask,” She presses her lips together, smearing her lipstick. Coating the spots that she might’ve left bare after kissing him. “Sounds like fun.”
And she pulls back, fully, leaving him dizzy. She walks back into the ballroom before him, carried by the soft swiftness of her hips and the sight of her flesh shifting beneath her dress.
She looks over her shoulder to him, making a gesture with her head to follow. Her hand on the lip of the doorframe, such soft hands that have carried so much.
He does follow her happily, guided by the leash that strings along his heart.
dividers by @steviebbboi
thank you to my girlfriend! @xxlreader who helped me build Vanda's character for her OC's canon timeline. And for teaching me about the butchfemme dynamics and their importance in the lesbian community.
i soooo want to be filled with someone's strap... slowly fucking myself on it and whimpering into their shoulder about how good they're making me feel... messily kissing up their neck and across their jaw and meeting their lips panting and crying out as i cum around them
summary — ellie williams, reigning champion of the f1 circuit and all over egotistical ass; screwed up your drivers chance at a first place finish. all you wanted was an apology, and ellie doesn't seem like she wants to give one. how do you both solve it? a bet. whoever comes out on top, wins. you just weren't prepared for what she wanted if the odds swung in her favor.
⭑ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 7.84k
⭑ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: f1racer!top!ellie x subfem!reader, oral sex [r!receiving], strap-on sex, tit play, hair pulling, slight strangulation if you squint, edging, swearing, use of y/n, possessive ellie hehe, strap-on is called dick/cock, pet names, slightly rough sex, messy kissing, vibrator is mentioned and used, car sex but in like a ... formula1 kinda way, kinda forced orgasm if u squint like really hard but really the bitch just can't get enough, pussy DRUNKKKK ellie, f1 terms/names used, yes i'm aware women and men don't race together in f1 shhh just pretend, MEN AND MINORS DNI !!!! feel free to reblog or like if you enjoyed !!!!
⭑ authors note: hiii friends !! i'm robyn, this is my first official piece that i'm posting here. it's been a long time since i've written a smut piece, but i've gotten into f1 recently and the idea just itched at my brain until I had no choice but to write it. obvs, i'm not the all-seeing f1 guide book - so a lot of the actual f1 info used here may not be totally accurate, but I tried to make it as close as I could !!!! please feel free to share if you liked. love yaaaaa :p also du du du duuu max verstsappen du du du duuuuu MAX VERSTAPPEN
The wind pulled and tugged at your hair, the once high pony tail resting against the back of your neck in defeat. It was a sunny, beautiful day in Monaco - round 8 of this years Formula1 schedule had commenced last night, and as everyone expected - your team, your driver - had podiumed in 3rd. The win was a nice point jump that was needed to boost moral, but if the team had any shot at a championship title - there was a lot more work to do. There was only so much you could do as a public relations liasion; you didn't do much on the track and race side of things - but it was your job to maintain the image of your drivers - and this certain hiccup, her, was creating more of an issue than you were equipped to handle.
Ellie Williams, Red Bull driver #1 and 3 time world champion - was not to be fucked with. Her reputation proceeded her in a way that would melt the smile off of any unsuspespeciting person - all in all, she was a huge bitch; but fuck could she race. She didn't care about making friends or having fans - she wanted to win. It was first place or nothing. Her teammate, Jesse - deserved a much higher salary for how much you were sure he had to deal with. The press team for Red Bull was less than helpful with trying to arrange a meeting - so, you took matters into your own hands, stealing a copy of the the Team Principle's schedule and sneaking onto the track when you knew she'd be there.
The heals of your white sneakers kicked up pebbles as you trekked closer, the soft roll of sound catching the attention of the woman you were on the hunt for. The helmet that sat perfectly atop her head - because of course it was measured to be a perfect fit - flipped in your direction. Waving felt a little childish, so you elect to nod your head. Plopping down on the hood of what you were sure was a multi-million dollar car, she finally pulls the helmet off - a brownish red mullet left behind in its wake. Of course, she was a great driver and fucking hot. Freckles were scattered across her cheeks, the light hit her eyes in just the right way that the brown irises almost looked gold. She was tall - not super tall, but tall enough. The racing uniform the Bulls suited her up in hugged and slid across her body like it was another set of skin - gloves on, but the length of her fingers was hard to miss. The thought made you gulp. All of a sudden it felt way too hot to be May in Europe.
"Aren't you a little far from home base, Ferrari?" She gestured to the patch on your polo, acknowledging your team. "I'm pretty sure they reserved the track so the winner could get some solo shots." The word dripping off her tongue like it was a personal blow - racer or not, if the driver fails; you all do.
"Maybe so. But it's hardly a win if you have to completely run the driver making to pass you off the track. But hey, what do I know, I'm not a Bull." The hip pop you proceeded to do was involuntary, but she seemed amused by it anyways. "Damn straight you're not." Ellie smirks. That damn smirk. "But hey, if you ever want to take a swing at winning for once - we could always use another member of our press team." As if on que, an army of people with the same job as you - mostly women, you had to note - began fawning over Ellie as if she was lost treasure. One of them began dabbing her nose, like she was incapable of doing it herself. Maybe she was, you were sure all that time she probably spent maintaining that ego kept her hands fairly busy.
Her hands.
You gulp, averting your eyes for what feels like the millionth time. "I'm good. Perfectly fine where I am. But if you have a second, I'd love a chat." Her press team, annoyed by your presence, move away slowly. You wave, hoping it came off as bitchy as you wanted it too. She nods - her posture slacking even further against the car. "Shoot. Unless you want insider secrets, I'm sure the principles can chat that one through."
"I already tried him. I don't think he's a huge fan of me."
"He's not a huge fan of anyone, love. Well, except for me."
The nickname sent what felt like a laser down the center of your spine - you knew this could have been an email. If it was obvious how she was affecting you, she didn't show it. Hopeful relief was the only thing keeping you calm. You tred your next words carefully.
"You ran one of my drivers off. You then made comments about the team's planned strategy. As if him rolling off into the grass was planned right before a pit lane." It was at that point you realized her legs were completely spread, her weight resting on her palms behind her. Dizzy. It was dizzying.
"And your point is?" She bobs her knee up and down, tilting her head to the side to feign confusion. "My job is to race and win. He was in my way. Case closed." You force a tight lip smile, breathing out through your nose. "Yes. It is. But it's not your job to lie about team strategy and make my engineers look bad. You know damn well that wasn't us forcing him out, it was you."
"Tomatoe, tomah-toe. It's all the same at the end of the day." She waves a bug out of her face, standing back to her full height. Hot. Hot. Hot. You felt like a fucking child. This was an adult conversation. Looking at someones lips and wondering how soft they are - tracking the veins that wrapped her fingers and crept up her forearms in the absence of the gloves that are now in one of the many press liaisons hands. There was no room for this. You were the best of the best at what you do, it's time to start acting like it.
"The issue, Williams, is that it's not. FIA rules make it very clear that there is supposed to be space left for the drivers closest to you. You're on your fourth strike of the season - one more is grounds for a 10-place grid drop once we get to Spain. You may lead now, but starting Barcelona 10 spots behind the Ferarri's and the Mclaren's? You can kiss that winning streak goodbye."
She squints at you - in either an act of defying the sun or showing irritation, either was possible. "And how exactly were you planning on slapping me with this penalty, y/n?" Her knowing your name made your stomach churn.
"That sounds like doubt, but I promise - I can be very convincing when I want to be." The sway of your hips as you partially turn to leave catch her eye, the intensity of her stare making your face flush. "Retract the statement. Apologize. Then maybe we can be friends."
"Who said I wanted to be friends?" A soft chuckle followed. Her laugh was as infectious as she was. "I'll tell you what, Ferrari. Go ahead and file the penalty. They'll review the footage, and dock me my grid spot." Her voice gets closer and closer until you could feel her presence directly behind you, the minty breath from her mouth puffing out over the expanse of your neck. "But watch me win anyways. You and I both know, they could start me in the fucking pit lane for all I care - I always win."
"Is that a challenge?" God you hoped it was.
"Sure."
"And what do I get if I win?"
"You mean If I lose?"
"Tomatoe, tomah-toe. It's all the same at the end of the day."
She grins. Something evil behind those eyes flashes, and the heat returns to your cheeks.
"I lose, I retract what I said and apologize."
"I can work with that." You put your hand up, the shake barely noticeable. She looks down at it, returning her gaze to your eyes.
"And when I win the race?"
"Cocky, aren't we?" Your hand remained in the air, thankfully keeping some distance between you two.
"Never cocky. Just realistic." You roll your eyes. She laughs again. The sound makes you weak.
"You win, I'll do anything you ask. One thing, completely your choice."
She rolls her tongue over her lips, sliding her hand into your's.
"You have a deal, Ferrari. Winner takes it all."
Race day never failed to have you completely and totally on edge. Thousands of people all gathering in one spot to watch cars fly past their head at 275 miles an hour - a younger version of yourself would never have found something of the sort entertaining. Things have obviously changed, and even with the constant flow of anxiety creeping its way up and down your body; there's no place you'd rather be.
After coordinating with the strategy engineers and filming some pre-race content with your drivers, you make your way out of the pit box and over to the section seating reserved for team members. Even with the tons of people in red and orange, you couldn't miss the sea of fans sporting Red Bull blue. Giant posters of Ellie's head flew around, her name in glittery finish right below them. People were anxiously awaiting the sight of their favorite driver - and as much as you wanted to laugh at them, you couldn't help but look around for her as well.
The rev of an engine brought your attention to her, the moth sticker on the helmet making it very clear it was her in that car and not Jesse. Ellie did end up getting a penalty for her push out on Ferrari - and while you were sure she thought it was you, it actually wasn't. Your team principle made the complaint before you could. Either way, she got exactly what you assumed she would - a 10 spot grid dock. She went from 1st to 11th - seated just behind the Aston Martin drivers. The Red Bull fans in the stands went postal when they heard the announcement - but it didn't last long. They clearly have complete and total faith in the skill of Ellie Williams. You, on the other hand, were nervous; you couldn't tell if it was for your drivers - or for her.
The announcers voice boomed over the speaker, signaling that the race was about to begin. You pull out your content camera and get some on-track shots of the team - throwing them a thumbsup for good luck. You catch Ellie shooting one back - knowing damn well it was not for her. While the idea of flipping her your middle finger sounded fun, that sounded like the last kind of press that Ferrari wanted at the moment, so you elect to rolling your eyes instead.
The beeping of the red lights starts - then a flash of green, and off the cars went.
Lap 61. 5 laps to go. What looks like 8 minutes left in a 2 hour race.
You were sweating - blaming it on the blistering Spanish sun would have been easier, but you were nervous. Podium looked like it was coming down to Mclaren, Ferrari, and Red Bull. Your driver was neck and neck with the Mclaren driver - with Ellie not far behind them. She started the race off slow - staying comfortable in P7 or P8 - but once they hit lap 40 - she went off. She zig-zaggged through drivers, flying around corners - not slowing down for anyone. The Red Bull pit crew had her in and out of there in under 2 seconds - other teams were scrambling to keep up. You started this race sure an apology and retractment was coming Ferrari's way - now you weren't so sure.
The roar of the crowd brought your attention back to the race - just in time to watch Ellie slide past Mclaren. The gasps and shouts rung in your ears like bells, your heartbeat rapidly increasing to sync up with the noise. You raise your shaky hands to take photos of your driver as he approached the end of lap 65 - but Ellie was too close. She swerved around behind him to distract him, but he held strong - manuvering just the same to keep her in her place. They were on the last lap now, all the fans rising to their feet to catch a glimpse of them flying around the bend. This was anyone's race now - but the consequences of a Ferrari loss were not ones you were willing to consider. You raise your fingers to your mouth and whistle, clapping with your camera under your arms. Shouting, yelling out your drivers name - anything you could do to change the outcome you were scarily anticipating.
Just before the last curve of the lap, Ellie pushes the gas faster than your driver was ready for, the swerving he was doing to hold her back failing. She shoots directy passed him, flying at what almost looked like warp speed towards the finish line. The crowd went insane, the blood rushing in your ear almost muffling them. Your face froze, watching Ellie Williams fly passed the finish line - securing P1 and winning the race.
Red Bull's team went flying out into the pit lane, greeting the arrival of their champion. Ellie rises from the car like a fucking phoenix - ripping the helmet off and throwing her hands in the air. You almost moaned, the sweat collecting on her brow and the red of her cheeks made her look unreal, the sight almost made you forget you had your own driver to celebrate - coming in P2 and bringing the team score up. You could see your colleagues throwing champagne on him and clapping him on the back - you make a quick move to turn around and go join them - but not before catching Ellie's eyes, knowing damn well that your loss meant her gain. The only question now was: what the fuck did she want you to do?
You wave at the last of the Ferrari team - all headed down the street for drinks to celebrate. You tell them that you'll catch up to them after, that there's a few last minute things you need to do to get content up in a timely manner before you all headed to the next race in Montreal. The track was deserted except for the clean up crew in the stands - all lights were also off except for the pit lane. You notice the garage door for Red Bull was open, and head there before your brain could tell you otherwise.
Knocking softly on the wall before entering, you see Ellie - uniform half unzipped and hanging around her hips. The top half of her body was adorned by nothing but a skin tight sports bra - the sight making a beed of sweat drip down your back. Her car, clean and sparkly as if it hadn't done 60 laps at 300 miles an hour earlier. "Clean up crew works fast - she looks brand new." You say, dragging the tips of your fingers across the body of metal as you make your way over to her. She smiles, throwing the rag she was holding on the supply table. "Well, you're kind of right. The piece you're eye fucking right now is new - had to be replaced after that little scuffle coming out of lap 37." The vulgar nature of her words made you gulp - something you were sure she noticed, smriking to herself. "What are you doing here, Ferrari? Don't you have a second place position to be toasting too?" You groan, looking down at the floor. "They're doing more than enough drinking for all of us. I'm here because I'm a woman of my word."
Another smirk, this one wider. "Which word? The one where you said we could be friends - or the one where you threatened me?"
"Wasn't a threat. More of an observation."
She kicks the box she was seated on into the corner, using the new open space between you to step closer. "I saw you during the race. Did you enjoy the show?" You squint, meeting her gaze. "For someone who doesn't want to be my friend, you sure do pay a lot of attention to what I'm doing." This time, she squints back - taking a moment to gaze down at the Ferrari red dress you had on for the press junket. "Well - if friendship is what you're seeking, it would be kind of me to let you know that this-" she says, fingering the material of your dress between her calloused fingers, "would look so much hotter on you if it was Red Bull blue. My blue." You roll your eyes. Whatever game she was playing - you weren't falling for it. Some kind of sick and twisted take on recruitment? She clearly didn't know much about you.
"Then, in the name of friendship, I should probably let you know that you're going to have to dress me in blue over my cold, dead body." She chuckles, dropping the dress back down between you both. "That can be arranged - the dressing you part of course, not the dead part. Not really into all that." Your laugh matches her's, soft and quick. "You sure? Seems like something you'd like."
Seconds pass of you both like that, before you raise your head to meet her eyes again. "I'm here because you won. I owe you." She tilts her head to the side, eyes becoming slits. "You're actually going to live up to that?" You nod, a questioning tone floating between you both. "Why wouldn't I? I lost?" She reaches behind her for her phone, sliding it between her hands before dropping it in your palm. The screen was lit with a text thread between Ellie and her press team, the longest message coming from the woman standing in front of you.
Ellie: Can you run this statement on the socials tomorrow? [file.jpg]
RB Press: Sure boss. Talk later. xx
You click open the file, analyzing the paragraph for what it was. You gasp softly, seeing the time it was written - an hour after the race had finished today.
In Monaco last week, I made a mistake on the track that won me the race - but was very clearly in violation of FIA regulations. I pride myself on being a safe racer just as much as a great racer, and being any part of a fellow athlete getting run off the track is never something I should celebrate - let alone blame on their strategy team. My apologies to the Ferrari drivers and their team, who work just as hard as anyone to secure success. I accept my 10-spot grid drop as punishment and look forward to fair, safe racing between all teams moving forward.
-Ellie Williams, Red Bull Racing.
You look up at her, unsure of what her reaction would be now that you knew. "But you won-" you start, setting her phone on the table to your left. "Fair and square. No apologies." She tits her frame from side to side, her hair falling in small strands atop her forehead. "Sure. But then I found out you never rushed to turn me in - in fact, it wasn't even you - it was your principle." Your eyes soften when they met her's. "It wasn't me, but that doesn't mean I wasn't going too." The air is still between you both, hands so close to touching but still so far. The fluorescent lights were making your head spin - at least, you wanted to think that was why, but it was probably being close enough to her that her lips were almost kissable. "You say that, but I don't think you would have. I just look too good winning." She whispers, eyes switching between meeting your gaze and your mouth.
There are so many words, sentences, and borderline guttural sounds flying through your head right now, you don't even know where to begin. The cockiness, which normally would have sent your eyes rolling, was making the temperature in this small garage skyrocket. You needed to get out of there soon or else all hell was going to break loose, and you weren't sure if you'd be able to stop it.
"One thing. Anything you want." You mutter, leaning back with the top half of your body - your feet still very much planted where they were. The eternal smirk. Anytime it left her face, it came running back. "You sure you want to play this game?" Eyes. Mouth. Eyes. Mouth. Her stare on both was so strong, it was making your head spin. "Damnit, Ellie. Just tell me what to do."
"Take your dress off."
And like that, any semblance of air left in the room vanished. Your eyes felt like they were going cross, the hair on your skin stood pin straight as well. Ellie didn't look anything other than sure, the small beads of sweat rolling down her skin were the only sign she was just as affected as you.
"I'm sorry? You want me too-"
"Take. Off. Your. Dress. That is, if you're as determined to pay back your loss as you're acting like you are." Her voice, once soft and comical - now gruff and horse, like she's fighting to restrain herself. "I want to see you outside of that Ferrari red - when I taste you like I want too, you're on no one's team but mine."
You sighed - not one of defeat, more of longing so intense you thought your knees were going to buckle. "You want all of Barcelona to see me naked? Is this a humiliation ritual or something?" She side steps around you, punching in the code to close the small garage door - any chance of escape leaving as it closed. Not that you wanted too, you were actually alarmed at how badly you wanted to be here. She returns to stand in front of you, uniform still hanging off her lower back. "If you think I was going to let anyone see you, you don't know me very well." She points her finger at your chest, then lets it sink down until it's pointing at the floor. "Dress off. And then you need to tell me that you want me as much as I want you - I'm not laying a finger on you until you do."
You're convinced this may be the hottest thing you've ever heard, the goosebumps on your skin felt like razor blades. What you clearly wanted was right in front of you, and it was time you got out of everyone else's heads and back into yours. Closing your mouth, your fingers rise to the zipper against the hem on your side, slipping it down until you heard it hitch against your hip. You feel the dress loosen, the straps sliding off your shoulders and onto your arms. Ellie watched intently, her gaze darkening every passing second you got closer to being naked. The dress slid down your frame until it pooled around your feet on the floor, your frame left in nothing but a black bra and matching underwear - ironically trimmed with blue lace on their edges. Her eyes flamed at the sight, the signature Ellie Williams smirk returning without a moment's pause. 'What happened to blue over your cold, dead body?" You nod, licking your lips. "If I had known you were so desperate to see me clothsless, I would have worn red everything." Her laugh was something sinister, the end of it clipping as she walked forward - running her fingers just above the straps - ghosting your skin with what felt like a feather. "Something tells me deep down, you knew - that's why this ensemble was picked out in the first place." You moan - trying to cut it before it came out, but failing. She wasn't touching you, she was allowing you to feel how close she was to doing so. The teasing was nauseating - you weren't sure how much more you could take.
"Ellie." You mutter.
"Hm?" She hums, the shadow of her fingers now dragging across bottom of your stomach, just above the lace of your underwear.
"What are you going to do if I tell you I want you?" The question comes off weak, almost squeaky. Her eyes flick back up - the intensity feeling like a lot compared to the fogginess you know was all over your's. "Well," Gravel, like hot lava - her voice was boiling you alive. "I'm going to sit you down atop this 2.6 million dollar car, and spread you open for me." She nods her head back, gesturing to the vehicle built around and solely for her. "And I'm going to absolutely destroy you - so the next time I race, and win, all I'll be able to think about is you falling apart for me atop of it." She side steps around your dress, now so close that your bodies could mold into one. "And I'll know you're down in the pit lane, thinking the same thing - I want that red to burn as you put it on, because all you can think about is how good you felt without it."
The ground could have been splitting open, and you wouldn't have cared. Enough was enough.
"Ellie. I want you."
And that was that.
She wrapped her fingers around the base of you neck, pulling your mouth to her's within a second. Her lips, soft and wet - slid over yours in a fight for dominance. Not that it was even close to a fight - she had you in a puddle, totally wrapped around her finger. If she had said jump, you would have asked how high. Her mouth was minty with a hint of that classic Red Bull taste, as she slid her tongue in to roll with yours. The grip she had on your neck only faltered to slide to the back, her fingers grabbing a fist of your hair to pull you back. Eye to eye, you both probably looked starved. Her pupils were blown and her cheeks were fire red, the freckles you noticed back in Monaco even more visible this close.
"Sit on the hood. Now." She released you, walking to the table to slide her rings off. The sight was too much, every step you took was more wobbly than the last. There are an infinite list of reasons why this was a bad idea - but you ignored them all, pushing your reasoning to the back burner as you plop down on the hood. The bottom of the Red Bull logo was covered by your calves. You kept your knees locked together while you waited for Ellie to finish what she was doing, every passing second leaving you more of a mess than you were before. You sat there almost wishing that you would wake up, that this was all a dream. How would you explain this to your boss? To your team?
"I can see the gears turning in that pretty little head of your's." Her voice pulling you out of your thoughts, clear and stern. She seemed so confident, so unaware of the effect she was having on you. "If this isn't something you want, I'll stop. But you have to know that I've been dreaming of how good you'd feel around me since the moment I spotted you at the team's car launch back in January." She looks deep into your eyes, just far enough to spot the hesitancy for what it really was - insecurity.
"This can stay between us, or I can walk out there now and tell every jock-headed desperate reporter that you're mine. Either way, I'm not going to let this ruin you. I'm only going as far as you want me too."
God, if you were any less cynical - you may have told her that you had feelings for her. That was ridiculous, you barely knew her - but the butterflies that hatched in your stomach were hard to ignore. You weren't going to let anything mess this up. You do everything for other people to win, it was your turn.
You spread your legs, the cotton that covered your pussy damp - the cold air hitting it made you wince. "You said you wanted to destroy me earlier, and now you're saying you're not going to let this ruin me. Having cold feet?" Your head falls to the right, your hair falling back behind you. The sight must have made Ellie's knees buckle, her weight shifting forward to catch herself. She tosses the last ring on the table with a clatter, and saunters back over to stand in front of you. "Cold feet - no. But I'd be lying if I said I wasn't itching to get the rest of this off." Her hands tug at the straps of your bra - letting go and watching them snap back onto your skin with a pop. You hiss, glaring. Taking it off and using it to distract you were two different things. She laughs at your annoyed appearance, biting down on her lip before dragging the sleeves down. The cups of your bra sag at the lack of support. Ellie reaches out to massage them, huffing out a loud sigh. Her eyes flick to yours before ripping the bra clean off, attaching her mouth to your right nipple. She licked and lightly tugged with her teeth, sending your head flying back. "Fuck, Ellie-" The air felt paper thin as it tugged its way in and out of your mouth. She licks one last time before giving the same attention to the left side - her free hands now wrapped around your waist to hold you in place.
You tug her hair, bringing her back up to face you before attacking her mouth with your own. She groaned, leaning into the kiss with so much pressure it sends you flying back onto the car. It's at this point that she really got a good look at you - bare chested with nothing but a skimpy pair of panties. Your hair fanned out in a halo above your head, and your legs were spread and wrapped around Ellie's legs. She grinned, taking in every inch of you as best she could. Your face burned under her intense stare.
"God, I wish I could take a picture right now." Her eyes softened. She ran her fingers down your sides, the chill of her hands making you shiver. She stopped once she hit your hip, toying with the waistband of your underwear. She pulled down, exposing the dip of your skin before your pussy. Leaning forward, she slides her fingers down to the center, rubbing a circle on the wet patch. Your back arched, both lungs felt like they were on fire. Everything was sensitive, every touch felt heightened - things that normally wouldn't even make you blink an eye had every nerve ending in reach reacting. She makes the touch harder, blowing air over you. "So fucking wet. All this for me? When I haven't even had my way with you yet?" You nod, sweat rolling down your forehead and onto your neck. "All your's. I'm all yours. It's all your's; fuck-" Your legs were shaking with anticipation, Ellie noticing - leaning down to kiss your inner thighs. She licks circles up until she hits the edge of the cotton - tugging it to the side. She pulls one of your hands down, hooking your fingers to hold it in place. "Hold your fuckin' panties to the side, if you let go - I stop making you feel good. We clear?" You nod vigorously, tightening your hold on the fabric. Ellie brought herself back down, wrapping her arms around your hips to hold you still. Her tongue dragged a soft lick from your entrance to your clit - moaning against you harshly. She circled her lips around your nerve and sucked, flicking the tip of her tongue over it at the same time. She had no mercy, like a woman starved. Every movement made your release come barreling closer. It was absolute bliss. Her mouth felt like heaven, you started to make the car shake in tandem with your legs. "Ellie, I'm gonna cum-" You manage to say, your voice cracking under pressure. She tightened her grip on your hips, rolling her mouth back over your clit - the very tip of her top teeth nipped at the skin there, a shriek rolling out of you in response. "You're," she sucks. "Not." The words came out stalled in between her different moves. "You don't get to cum until I say you do. I'm gonna leave you here desperate if you even try. Clear?" She muses, her bottom lip hitting against you as she spoke. You groaned. All you could do was groan - if she wasn't going to let you finish soon, the possibility of self combustion was incredibly likely.
"I said - are we clear? Answer me." She uses her fingers to massage gentle circles on your hips. "Come on baby, you taste so good. Don't make me stop." Her tongue, which you now realize she stuck completely out so you could see - snakes a long, wet lick up you. Your vision was blurring. You had to cum, but you also couldn't fight her if you tried. "Fuck, YES. We're clear. Please." The beg rolled off your tongue so weakly, you could see the endearment fill her eyes. She had reduced you to bare bones, nothing more than a play piece - and it made her feral. Maintaining the eye contact, she closes her lips back around your clit. There was an art to the way she hummed - she was sending vibrations through you at just the right speed, on just the right places. Your soul was going to levitate out of your being. She leans back, admiring the mess. "God, I could sit here, eating you all day. My pretty girl dripping all over my car." The hands you spent so long gawking at back in Monaco gripped you harder, she loved the way your skin indented around her fingers. "I'm gonna fuck you with my tongue - and when I do, you're going to cum all over my face." Your head bobbed in agreement - you probably would have agreed to anything in this state. "I want to hear you loud and clear. Cum for me, baby." And there she went, tongue deep inside of you - fucking you like her life depended on it. The car was bouncing at this point, the metal of the axels screeched beneath you. This car was going to race it's way through the rest of this season, and here you were - about to have the best orgasm of your life while it's racer was camped out between your legs.
"Ellie, please, Ellie - I'm coming, I'm coming- FUCK." The lace you worked so hard to keep away slips from your fingers, your hands flying up to her hair and tugging. She continued to moan, moving her tongue back up to your clit and sucking. Your legs fought to break free from her hold - but that was on you for forgetting that she's a trained athlete, and you walk around with a camera all day long. Ellie slammed your legs back down onto the car, burying her head even further between your them - if that was even possible.
"Ellie, it's too much - please." The room was going to spin here soon. You pulled on her hair, pulling and pulling again - but she didn't budge. She held you down even harder, circling your entrance again. "More. Give me one more-" It came out in a murmur, like she was afraid if she slid up to far to say it, you'd try and move her. "Ellie, fuck- FUCK." There was no way there was one more, but it seemed like she didn't care - you were coming again come hell or high water. "One. Fucking. More." And then she flipped the script on you entirely, sticking her tongue out and holding it in place, then using her solid grip on your hips to move you. 'Oh, my god' - your brain couldn't process what was happening, the pleasure was building too fast. Ellie Williams was controlling your body, making you fuck yourself against her tongue. The up and down motion made the car shrieks even louder - your strangled screaming drowned it out, though. Anyone within an ear shot of this garage would hear you.
"Come on baby, cum for me again." Another murmur, a few seconds closer to exploding. You finally manage to open your eyes, catching a glimpse of her. Even with her face so occupied, you could see how wet her jaw was. She was covered in you. That was all it took, your head collapsing back against the hood with a loud scream. Your body was convulsing, weathering it's way through another earth shattering orgasm. Ellie's tight grip on your hips loosened, and she returned to full height - standing in front of you, wiping her face off with the back of her hand. She looked like something straight out of a dream. This view of her, no matter how fleeting - was your's and your's only, even just for tonight.
It took a few moments for you to catch your breath. Ellie vanished to the other side of the garage, you weren't sure where - but you could hear the shuffling from where you still laid. You felt light, like you were floating. The release felt like it took part of you with it, but in the best way possible. It was a part you didn't want back.
You could have stayed there forever, but the rustling of metal and the slight shift of the car made your eyes fly back open. You turn, adjusting your view to look for the red head. "Ellie? Where did-" you couldn't finish your sentence, your eyes meeting her's before you could.
She was in the fucking car. Like, ass in the driver's seat.
You allow yourself to slide off the hood, with only wet, mangled underwear to cover you. Making your way around the car, you see Ellie's Red Bull jacket hung up on a hook above the tool table. You yank it off, shrugging it on your shoulders. The sight made her eyes sparkle. "You look good in my jacket, baby." You laugh, that same hip pop from your first real interaction returning against your will. "You're only saying that cause it's Bull merch." She shrugs, flexing her hands against her legs. "Maybe. Or maybe I just like seeing you in things that are mine." It was then that you realized, your eyes still shamelessly locked in on her hands, that the uniform that was hanging around her legs was gone - now only the compression shorts they wore underneath was left, the tattoos she mentioned having at the season launch press junket peaking out. You raised an eyebrow, gesturing your finger at her attire. "Do you normally strip to your skivvies when going for a drive?"
"Only when I'm expecting someone to get on my fucking lap and ride me."
Any light, joking manner you had created in the last few seconds vanished. Your eyes probably looked like they were bugging out of your head. "I beg your fucking pardon?" She wasn't as amused, the spread of her legs going just a bit wider - as far as the space would let her. "You're a smart woman, y/n. I know you heard me." Of course you did, the idea was just fucking insane.
"Ellie, how the fuck am I going to do that? Do you have any idea how small-" She raised her finger, cutting you off mid sentence. Curving it, almost into a come here motion - she gestured your body towards her. "Shut up and come sit on my fucking lap."
Silence. You knew it was a stupid idea, but every bone in your sensitive body wanted - needed - her again. You walk forward, pushing your panties down to the floor and swinging your leg over the side of the car. Ellie helps you, guiding your knee to the small ledge built into the other side. You bring your other leg in after, mimicking the same position but on the left. Your center was flush against her, she leaned her head back against the drivers seat to look into your eyes. The urge to kiss her was overwhelming, and she must have read your mind. Lip to lip, moaning softly into each others mouth. Your free hand, the other occupied by gripping the head rest behind her neck, reaches down - palming against her pants. You pause, your breathing hitching on the discovery of what was beneath. "So, does this mean you always race strapped up?" The pressure from your palm made her groan. She bucked her hips up into your grasp. "Only when I know I have a pretty little thing watching me." The thought made your head swirl. Ellie, racing her way to the front of the grid - securing her P1 position, all while packing a strap on against her fucking cunt. And she did it just for you. The thought was dizzying, it made you feel drunk on power. She wanted you just as much as you wanted her.
"You gonna ride me, or are you just gonna sit there thinking about it?" Her hands wrap around you neck, pulling you closer to her face. "Fuck yourself on my cock, and we'll consider us even."
You reach your hand under her pants, yanking the strap-on free from it's restraints. It was huge, bigger than any guy you'd been with in your day. You bet she was better at using it as well, but that was a task for another day - she put the control in your hands, you weren't wasting it.
You grip the base, rising slightly to angle it to your entrance. The tip slid in without a fight, you were still wet from what had just happened. The stretch was lethal. Good wasn't a strong enough word for how it felt. Both of your heads rocked back, the moans that followed also matched. You sank down on it, only then did you feel the vibrating piece that you were now certain was perched against her clit. The thought made you smirk, jirating your hips heavily to force it against her harder. She groaned, squeezing the hand that remained around your neck. "Fucking behave."
"Or what?" The question followed another circling of your lower half, the need to bounce up and down taking over. "You gonna punish me?"
"There are 15 races left this season, I will find a way to remind you why at every. Fucking. Stop. There won't be a country that hasn't seen your wet fucking pussy. Now, knock it off and fucking cum." The threat sounded more like a promise, one that you planned to hold her too. The bounce of your knees against the side of the car was hell, but the pain combined with the pleasure of her dick splitting you open was clouding anything else. There was no coming back from this, she's ruined you for anyone else - no one would ever be able to compare.
She hummed, sliding her hand from your neck to your chest, pulling you forward to suck on your tits once again. She lapped, using her other hand to palm whichever one she wasn't mouthing at. She was close, you could tell in the way her skin was scattered with goosebumps. You open your eyes, noticing her helmet sat atop the back bend of the car. There was no time to second guess it, you grabbed it and slid it on your head, sliding the vision glass up so she could still make eye contact with you. The moan that capped from between her teeth sounded like it came from her soul. "Fuck, my good girl wanted to wear my jacket and my helmet, huh? You just can't get enough of me?" She wraps her arms around your waist, pulling your chest flush against her's. "You're mine, huh? My car, my jacket, my helmet- my fucking girl." Praise always did it for you in the past, but this was a completely different game. You felt like you belonged to her, and now it was clear that you did. The up and down of your hips started to get weak, the orgasm you had worked to prolong was rushing forward. Ellie used her legs to bounce you both, your heavy breaths mixing together. You wanted her to finish with you, the desire to make it happen took over you - She collapsed against the seat again as you stared circling your hips against her crotch. She was just as close as you, you needed to feel it.
"Cum with me, Ellie. Please. I wanna feel it. I wanna cum all over your fucking cock." The garage, which was not built with this in mind, shook with the volume of your mixed moans. You both came, shaking the shit out of the car and the surrounding area. Ellie yanked the helmet off your head, pulling you in for a sloppy kiss. Teeth clashing against teeth, tongues circling each other. It was borderline pornographic, and you couldn't get enough.
Ellie pulled away, brushing your hair off your sweaty forehead. She placed a kiss against your palm, letting it fall against her chest - just above her heart. "You're a piece of fucking work, Ferrari." You both look like you'd fought through a war - the room reeked of sex and motor oil. The team who would come to transport the car in the morning would have quite a fucking show.
"You loved every minute of it, Bull. I don't wanna hear it." Her heartbeat was steady against your hand, you knew you needed to move - but the idea was nauseating.
"Keep the jacket. Once contracts are up in November, I want you to move to Red Bull. I won't even help, I know you'll get it without me." You smirk, leaning back against the steering wheel. "I like where I am, Ellie. And what makes you think I'll want to switch over here with you, anyways?" Her gaze softens, like if she looked away you'd be gone. "Well, seems like I have 6 months and 15 cities to convince you, don't I?" 15 more chances at nights like these was enough to keep anyone entertained. "Plus-" she adds, drawing random shapes along your legs. "A few dates along the way, my undying attention - how could you say no?"
You couldn't. Even you knew that.
"Is that a challenge?" You ask, fighting the urge to smile, but loosing.
She breaks as well - giving you what was the cutest, most toothy grin you'd ever seen. The sight made your heart flutter.
look at you, my perfect little princess, so shy but so filthy underneath, opening those soft thighs for me when i tell you to. you belong to me, baby, and i love watching you melt at my words, spreading that pretty pussy, wet and needy, just like i want.
More building anticipation in sex please ✋ talk down to me sweetly, your words getting filthier and filthier as you detail what you want to do to me. Put me in compromising positions with my clothes on, inspecting, touching and groping first only innocent places before moving on to where I'm sensitive. Have me whimpering and soaking through my boxers and wanting to hump your thigh before you've even taken off my shirt.
