bad idea, real good time; l. raj ꄗ
ᥫ᭡ i’m a couple minutes out from relapsing into you… oh fuck it baby, I love it ᥫ᭡
lara raj x fem!reader (college au)
word count: 8.5k
summary: lara had been a terrible girlfriend to you, and you're glad to have moved on from her after your definitive breakup months ago. so then, why does it feel like your knees are about to give out every time you see her? and what happens when she shows up at the same party as you and tries to break the distance you’ve kept so carefully?
tags: college au, ex gf!lara (she's a menace), bi!reader, r is dating a man, r and said man get physical, cheating, toxic dynamics, tipsy sex, consent is there but it's not the most explicit of things, dom!lara, sub!reader, dirty talk, degradation, use of strap-on, spanking, rough sex, oral, rimming, (reader receiving), idk what else, mdni.
a/n: here's this. and before you ask yes i did use love island names...
You’re lying on a familiar dorm room bed, eyes roaming over empty white walls except for a single poster of some baseball player with his bat held up in the air, hanging on the wall to your right. You’ve become well accustomed to it, being the only thing you can stare at while being here. The corners of the paper curling, the colors of the man’s outfit, the flex of his legs, the concentration on his features.
Rob, your boyfriend, is lying on top of you while pressing short kisses on your neck, your fingers tangling in his hair. In theory, it should be enjoyable, except his lips feel too dry on your skin, and he moves them hastily over random spots of your neck, lacking any technique.
You know he’s aiming to make you horny, hoping he can slide his dick inside you without need for spit or lube if he dedicates a few minutes to foreplay. But really, the kisses feel awkward on your skin, his body feels heavy on top of yours, he keeps rubbing his clothed erection on you so forcefully it’s nearing painful, his hair isn’t long enough to fully grip, and he lacks any passion that could actually turn you on.
You think it might be unfair to him, sometimes, or at least your friends tell you it is. He’s, unknowingly, constantly being compared to your ex who, apart from being a mind-blowingly good fuck, you also used to love with your entire heart.
Which is why you don’t go hard on him—don’t tell him his dick might leave a bruise on your thigh tomorrow if he keeps dry-drilling his boner into you like that, compliment the stupid fade haircut he pays way too much money for, pretend you appreciate how bulky and strong he is just as much as he does, go to all his games and get excited when he scores…
It’s all worth it, in the end. He might not be a sex god but he’s good to you.
He always sends kisses your way during his games, his muscly arm wrapped around you makes you feel secure, he takes you to nice restaurants, he doesn’t take away too much of your time since he spends most of his in practice or with friends, and he hasn’t cheated on you.
“You’re so fucking hot babe.” His voice is hoarse, affected by his arousal as he mutters the words before resuming his kisses, and you feel his hand sneak his way between your bodies to unbuckle his belt.
You do like him, you think, he’s handsome and he makes you laugh sometimes. His personality is unexceptionally average, but he’s sweet.
Girls look at you with envy when they see you with him, guys respect him enough not to hit on you because you’re his, and Lara… that’s probably the best part: Lara tries her hardest to hide the bitterness that comes with her possessiveness over you, but she fucking sucks at it. You can always see how tense her jaw gets when she sees you with him, how quickly her mood sours, the furrowed eyebrows and consistent eyerolls—
The thought makes you surge to kiss Rob with vigor, closing your eyes as you wrap your arms around his neck to bring him closer to you, and bask in the feeling of his hands on your hips moving to the waistband of your shorts. Sex with him isn’t all that bad, when you have an annoyed version of Lara in your mind to coax you through it.
The dining hall is quiet at this time in the morning. You sit with a couple of your friends, poking at your breakfast with a fork as you halfheartedly listen to the conversation.
“…Oh, we should totally go this weekend! I need new clothes desperately.” Your eyelids feel heavy as you take a sip of your coffee, your chin resting on your hand as you finally look up at them and try to get involved in the conversation to avoid falling asleep on your plate. It’s too early for you, but at least the place isn’t that packed.
“Isn’t Becca’s party this weekend?” You ask. You remember Rob mentioning how excited he was that there was a party outside of campus because he was tired of the same frat house crowds.
“Shit, you’re right. Perfect excuse to go shopping then, I used up all my slutty outfits already and I need to get laid.” Liv, one of your friends, answers.
You laugh, rolling your eyes half-heartedly. “Fuck off. You look hot in everything.”
“Thanks babe, but guys don’t think like that. They need to see exactly what I’m offering so that they’re interested in buying.” She explains, with a silly, overexaggerated wink as she takes a sip of her own coffee.
Serena, your other friend, lets out a short laugh, “that makes it sound like they’re gonna pay for your services or something, Liv.”
“Shut up, you know what I mean.” Liv retorts, giving Serena a light swat on the arm.
Serena stares at you for a moment, noticing how bored you seem by the conversation, and decides to involve you further. “Anyway, you must be glad you don’t have to worry about any of that anymore, huh? You got Rob wrapped around your finger.” Serena teases you with a smile and a wiggle of her eyebrows.
“Oh, for sure, definitely.” You don’t notice how thrown off they both look by your indifferent answer, distractedly taking a bite of your food while they share a confused look.
“You sure?” Liv asks you, eyes squinting with suspicion.
You let out a heavy breath, looking up at them again. “Yeah. I mean, we barely slept last night, so…” You say with a shrug and a small smile, hoping that would be enough to shut their suspicions about your ‘perfect’ relationship.
They both begin teasing you, drawing out ‘oooh’s’ while laughing, and making you laugh too. “That explains the hickey you tried to cover up on the side of your neck there. Terrible job, by the way.” Liv mentions, nodding toward the spot on your neck with a playful grin.
“Oh, yeah, it’s definitely visible baby. We’re so happy for you though, you deserve it.” Serena says, grabbing your hand on the table. You give her an honest, grateful smile, squeezing her hand back. “I gotta know, tough…” She begins, barely able to hold back her smirk at whatever she’s about to ask.
You let out a small laugh as you look at her, already anticipating a dumb question. “What?”
“Is Rob like, y’know… skillful like that? Is he like, a down-and-dirty kind of guy or is he more like, gentle?” She inquires. Both of them look at you with interest, curious to know about the illicit details.
You lick your lips, look down toward your plate and then back up, thinking of what to say. “Uhm, well I guess he’s like a…” You’re about to go on a tangent about how he’s somehow a perfect blend of both of those options and a secret third one too, when a loud group of people at the entrance catch your attention.
Rowdy, boisterous laughter fills the dining hall as they come inside. Backwards caps, dripping hair from recent showers, sneakers squeaking against the floors; fucking Lara and her stupid fucking friends.
You have to swallow when you spot her, and God knows you should look away at once, but maybe you’re more stupid than all her stupid friends because you don’t. You can’t.
You see her laughing and joking around, a wet strand of hair sticking to her forehead and her nose ring gleaming, and it feels like your eyes have fallen into a glue trap and are now helplessly stuck staring at her.
It’s just been a while, since you were able to get a glimpse of her. You’ve both been so good at avoiding each other, sticking to the silently established rules that prohibited you both from attending the same parties as the other. Or the same restaurants, or the same theaters, or the same malls. You’ve been torturously good at it.
You make sure not to let Rob take you to the same places you used to go to with Lara, say that the food is bad or the music they play sucks. You mention places nearby instead, and silently hope that Lara had the same idea as you did and you’ll run into her there while she’s on a date too.
It’s dumb. Everything you do when it comes to Lara is dumb, you become the most foolish version of yourself. You know you would hate to actually run into her while she’s on a date with someone else, you’d avoid her like a plague and probably drag Rob someplace else.
You still do it every time. Chase her shadow around, but with enough distance that she doesn’t notice, and that you never catch her.
Lara looks in your direction suddenly, as if she felt you looking, and you drop your gaze with shame, cheeks burning hot. Serena and Liv both turn their heads to see what exactly has you almost drooling and blushing like this, and roll their eyes promptly when they realize who it is.
“Okay, you gotta stop.” Serena tells you with a stern tone.
“What? I’m not doing anything.” You mutter, resuming your prodding around your plate.
They’re both aware of the history you share with Lara Raj. You would never say they’re well aware though. No one really is, except for you and her. You met during first year, and what started as a romantic, passionate pursuit of your heart, developed into a toxic but exhilarating give-and-take cycle.
Break up, then take Lara back when she begs for forgiveness, then break up again when you see her flirting with someone else, then get back together when she picks you up from a bar, break up when she sees you chatting with a random girl and calls you a slut, and back together again once you knock on her door and kiss her as soon as she opens it.
It was years of your lives and while yes, it was painful, you remember those first months. How genuinely giddy you got every time her name was brought up, how many bouquets of flowers Lara bought for you, all the silly couple pictures you took, the cheesy letters you used to write for her… and even later, when it turned toxic. You remember those moments perfectly well too.
How good she fucked you, how loved you felt when she got possessive, the excitement of making her upset on purpose so she would be rough with you in bed, and the comfort of knowing she could take care of your needs just as well when she was feeling romantic and let her hands caress instead of squeeze, her mouth kiss and not bite.
You know you’ve never loved anyone the way you loved Lara. Still, you persevere in the effort to focus on healthier dynamics for your own good, considering that the good times were really good, and that the bad times were really bad.
Sometimes you get a cold or you yell too much during one of Rob’s games, and your throat gets sore. It always makes you think about how sore your throat used to get over all the screaming you did. The salt-stung, dry skin around your eyes from all the crying, how she used to switch so fast it gave you whiplash, going from yelling at you to holding you in her arms and telling you she loved you. It was a mess.
“Just… think about how good Rob is. You’ve never knocked on my door crying because of him.” Serena reminds you, interrupting your thoughts.
“I know, I know… I wasn’t doing anything.”
“So, how are we getting to Becca’s?” Liv asks, changing the subject. Lara and her group of friends are walking by your table; you can see her out of the corner of your eye. It’s good for you both that she’s informed of your confirmed presence at that party, so that she follows the rules and doesn’t show up, look for a different party or maybe stay in her dorm for once.
“Rob can take us.” You mention—maybe out of bitterness—as she’s still walking by, and your friends decide not to tell you how hard she’s staring at you from her own table across the room once she sits. What you don’t know can’t hurt you, right?
As promised, Rob gives you a ride to the party. You don’t ask for permission before taking full control of the aux to blast 2000s hits and belt your lungs out with your girlfriends, the pregaming you’d done beforehand already hitting.
The party is buzzing when you guys arrive, already settled into a lively groove that immediately puts you in the mood for more. You part ways from Rob as his friends wave him over for a game of flip cup and your girls drag you to the dancing crowd.
You accept a drink from Liv and let the minutes pass by as you dance, unworried about any real cadence to your clumsy moves.
There was no one worth trying to impress, anyway. Before you started dating Lara you would always try to catch her attention, swaying your hips the right way, or dancing too close with a random stranger just so she would grab your wrist and make you dance with her instead.
You don’t have to worry about that anymore, at least. You can let yourself act a fool on the dance floor because you know Rob doesn’t care. Or you don’t care whether he likes how you dance or not, don’t care about making him want you because it doesn’t mean much.
Lara wanting you meant a sharp thrill for the unknown: not knowing whether she was going to drive you guys out of wherever you were without even letting you say your goodbyes, or maybe fuck you in her car, or in the bathroom, or start touching you right there in the middle of the crowd. It used to be worth it, paying special attention to what she liked so you could press all the right buttons and feel excited for what was to come your way.
With Rob, well… making him horny doesn’t represent much for you.
Feeling his arms wrap around your figure an hour later, strong, warm and accompanied by the scent of his cologne and the beer on his breath, doesn’t mean much more than the fact that you have to turn away from your friends to give him your attention.
You smile automatically when you hear them drunkenly whoop and cheer behind you. Just as automatically as you lift your arms to wrap them around his neck, that’s already sweaty from the time spent in the heated place.
You feel his hands caress your waist, his eyes roaming across your body and then glancing back up at you with a grin. “I fucking love this dress on you.”
You grin back, feel the muscles of your cheeks force themselves into position to make sure he knows you appreciate the compliment even if it makes you feel nothing. “Thanks, baby.” You say before leaning in to press a short peck to his lips.
He says nothing else, just stares at you with a smile, and you’re sure he thinks it’s romantic, staring at you like a drunk idiot and expecting you to think he’s cute or something. You think nothing of the sorts.
You think he should try harder, instead of just smiling at you. He should ask you questions, say something funny so you laugh, try to actually get to know you, ask someone—anyone—for advice so he gets better at fucking and you get to stop thinking about your ex while he does so.
But he just stares. Maybe the alcohol is making you too cranky. Eventually, you let out an awkward chuckle while looking down, ask him, “what?”
“Nothing. Just… you look so hot babe.” You guess all he wanted was an opening to indirectly ask you to have sex because his face is in your neck all of a sudden, and his hands are moving to grip your hips and pull you closer, but he can’t even properly ask for it. You let out a short sigh—you’re not nearly drunk enough for this, actually.
Your hand still moves up to run your fingers through his hair uninterestedly while you look around, distractedly watching random people dance around you. The party is at a full swing by now, having reached the peak where everyone is stupid drunk, sweaty and loud as their drugs take effect and couples begin occupying empty rooms.
That’s when you notice her.
Your face goes slack as you spot her across the crowded room, as if your brain had a spotlight just for her and everything else went dark and blurry as your focus fell on her, annoyingly cocky as she takes a sip from her beer and locks eyes with you. Fucking bitch.
You wonder how long she’s been watching you, if she noticed how miserably bored you were while your boyfriend held you, and what the fuck is she even doing here? With her baggy jeans and her fitted, cropped top that let you and everyone else admire her toned abs, and the muscles of her arms and— fuck.
Of course, she shows up at the right exact time too, when the mood is just right and it feels like the entire party was just waiting for her, like she was the missing piece to make the night feel complete. You think you maybe hate her while you watch her laugh around, run a hand through her hair, nod at random people as they greet her, let a girl hold her arm and wrap her own around her waist, all while looking at you.
You swallow, force yourself to look away and glance toward the empty cup on your hand. You get Rob’s attention by scratching the back of his neck softly, and he moves his head away from your neck to look at you.
You kiss him immediately, let your free hand move up from his shoulder to his face and grab his cheek as you keep him close, let your lips linger on his. “Get me a drink?” You ask him, moving your hand with the empty cup between your bodies to push it lightly against his chest.
He sighs, but nods and kisses your lips one more time before grabbing the cup. “Sure. Be right back.” You watch him as he walks away and makes his way between people dancing, and once you lose sight of him, you allow yourself to turn your attention back to where your entire body screams for you to watch. Lara’s already staring at you with a small smirk, nodding your way before gulping down her beer while that same girl is still glued to her.
You think you might’ve seen her around, might be her girlfriend. You wonder if she had previous plans to bring her to this party or if she called her and asked her to join once she knew you were coming. You shake your head, let out a small laugh over how stupid your thoughts sound.
Contrary to you, you doubt Lara’s life still revolves around you. You don’t doubt that she’s genuinely moved on and has no reason to try to make you jealous or to piss you off like she used to. But why is she here then? You wonder.
Oh well, just Lara being Lara, completely selfish and probably forgetting that you were going to be here in the first place. She was so fucking infuriating. Always thinking about herself and never once thinking about you, or what you might need. Just like she used to when you were dating.
She always made sure to keep you around whenever things were easy but was never around herself when you actually needed her. Not to fuck, not to fight, not to party, just to be there for you when times were rough and you needed someone to comfort you.
You still think about that time she said you were too emotional and sensitive during one of your breakups, always crying over everything. In fact, the words follow you constantly and you think they will for a very long time. You make sure to never cry in front of Rob, never complain or call him when you feel alone. You know that the wounds she inflicted on you still bleed, and you know you should hate her for it.
The fact that you actually don’t makes you hate yourself even more.
It’s unfair.
It’s so fucked up how the minute you catch a glimpse of her you get a tingling feeling between your legs. Even more wrong how you know Lara can sense it, and somehow just knows you’ve spent months without gratifying sex and your body is screaming for her like a bitch in heat.
Lara isn’t strong enough either. No matter who was by her side, she had never been strong enough to resist the temptation of your fevered eyes across any room, even if she wanted to.
Because she knows how wrong it is to be here and disrespect the quiet distance you’ve both decided to take from each other, as boring as other girls are to her. Once she set her eye on you in the dining hall earlier in the week though, hearing you talk about your boyfriend right after looking at her like that, she knew she had to do something.
You don’t notice when she makes her way to you, having resumed your dancing while you waited for Rob to return, being more focused on actively keeping your eyes off Lara than actually enjoying the music.
Out of sight, out of mind.
Until you feel a hand on the back of your waist and someone’s presence behind you, and you know it’s her without delay. You recognize the exact weight of her hand, the rings on her fingers, the warmth of her skin, the smell of her perfume, the subtle delicacy that comes with her and not many can notice; you know it all too well.
Before you can turn around, you feel her breath against your ear. “Come upstairs with me,” is all she says. No hello, how are you, I’m sorry, nothing. She probably knows she doesn’t have much time before Rob comes back with your drink.
You finally turn around, and look at her from up close for the first time in months. A breath escapes your lips and you see her licking hers, tilting her head in silent questioning, will you be coming with her or not?
And really, what are you supposed to do? Say no to the woman you once promised forever to? Yank her hand off your waist when she starts guiding you to an empty room without even waiting for a proper response? Not walk inside the room when she holds the door open for you? No, you both knew there was no getting away from this.
Lara is so aware of it in fact, that she doesn’t even let you say a word or turn on the light after closing the door before she’s attacking your mouth with kisses, pulling you closer to her with a tight grip on your waist.
You let out a small hum of protest, yet your hands move up to clasp your fingers together at the back of her neck anyway.
“Later, yeah?” She mutters against your lips in order to keep kissing you, pushing a chat for a ‘later’ that will probably never come.
God, you’ve missed her voice so much. You nod a little too eagerly and keep kissing her. Her lips are desperate and hurried, like she has somewhere else to be after this and just needs to cross this off from her agenda for the night. The thought makes you try to slow the pace, let your lips linger against hers and move your face for a different angle.
It doesn’t work. Lara pushes her face impossibly closer to yours, grabs your ass and pushes your body closer to hers too, walking you toward the bed. Unsurprisingly, it turns you on how eager she seems to touch you. Maybe she missed you just as much as you missed her.
You sit on the foot of the bed when the back of your knees hits it, and she breaks the kiss momentarily to sit beside you and resume making out. Your hand moves up to cup her cheek and caresses her cheekbone and it makes her kisses rougher. It’s like she has something to prove, like she needs you to know she’s above tenderness. You’re glad you know she’s not, so you keep your hand there.
You jump slightly in surprise when you feel her cold hand touching the bare skin of your thigh, palm cool from the beer she was holding earlier. The touch is insistent as she keeps gliding her palm up your leg, the fabric scrunching around her wrist and sliding up along with her hand, giving her access to more of your skin.
Things are moving too fast and you realize you should probably take things easier, think a little about what you’re doing.
She’s kissing you so ardently, you’re still kind of tipsy, her hand keeps moving higher up, you haven’t properly talked to her, and it’s not a random person you’re in a stranger’s room cheating on your boyfriend with, it’s Lara. The person who has hurt you the most in your entire life, the person that betrayed your trust, made you feel small, used you and broke your heart. Yet, you can’t stop kissing her.
The thought of having to reach for her hand and stop her, or take your hand off her cheek, or move your mouth away from hers… it all kind of makes you want to cry a little. Yes, everything about this is wrong, it’s all too fast, it’s extremely stupid. And you want it so badly.
Outside, the music is still playing, it booms faintly against your ears. The world keeps spinning, even if you’re here with Lara, so, who cares? Why should it matter so much, if you allow her hand to move higher up? If your lips are tingling with how forceful she is with her kisses, like she knew she didn’t need to be careful with you? Who cares if you like it? Who cares if you ache for more, and who cares if you actually get more?
Because inside the room, the sound of Lara’s heavy breathing and your small, pathetic whimpers feel louder and way more important than anything else going on outside, and that’s all that matters.
Lara is trying her absolute hardest to ignore the tenderness with which your thumb is caressing the skin of her jaw. It’s so contrasting to how intensely she’s kissing you and how little breath she’s allowing you to get between kisses, how her hand is squeezing your thigh without care.
The thought of being softer with you barely crosses her mind. Instead, her solution is to grab your wrist and move your hand away from her face, guiding it to her crotch without breaking the kiss to snap you out of the softness. You don’t complain.
In fact, you compliantly let her guide your hand, let her smirk against your lips when she feels no resistance, and moan when she bites your lip right when you feel the strap she’s packing under her jeans.
“Wore it for you." She whispers between kisses. Her breath hits hot against your wet, already swollen lips.
You should be pissed. You should get up and yell at her, for planning to do this tonight and for being so confident that you were going to agree. It should make you feel stupid, knowing she was counting on you whoring yourself out for her while you were dating someone else.
You should tell her it’s not okay to go around breaking your promise to stay apart whenever she feels like it, because you’re not strong enough to resist even if giving in guarantees you ending up alone in a stranger’s bed right after, feeling like the worst person in the world. You still could never say no to her, and she only takes advantage of that.
You don’t say any of those things. Instead, you let your hand squeeze the bulge in her pants, pulling her closer by the shoulder with your other hand when she nuzzles her face into your neck and leaning your head back to expose more of your skin to her. You bite your lip, thinking of how good her lips feel on your neck, instead of R—
“It’s your favorite. The black one, remember? Haven’t fucked anyone else with it since that last time at my place.” She mutters against your neck, and you’re glad the mark he left last week has faded, not because you wouldn’t like to see Lara’s probably hot reaction to it, but because you don’t want any reminders that you’re not hers tonight.
She’s scattering feathery kisses all over skin that shouldn’t be as familiar to her as it is. Unfortunately, she’s well acquainted with it, knows all your sensitive spots and where to find your pulse and where to place hickies so they’re not as blatant.
“You remember that night? How loud you kept begging for me to fuck you harder?” She adds.
“Fuck, Lara.” A needy sigh escapes your lips as memories of that night begin to fill your mind. How she took you without fear of you misinterpreting things, and allowed herself to claim you as hers, only to take it back the next day.
You still remember the softness of her sheets, though, the music she put on when you arrived that stayed as background, and how she tried to go soft before you begged her to speed up. It all makes your hands fly to unbutton her jeans with haste, making Lara chuckle as she looks down to see your fingers dragging the zipper down, licking her lips.
You don’t even worry about pushing her jeans down, you only make enough room for your hand to sneak inside and pull the strap out of her pants. You bite your lip at the sight, looking up at her for a second to catch her dilated pupils.
You move your hand up to your mouth, about to spit on it to lube up the silicone when Lara grabs your wrist again and stops you. You have to hold back from not letting out a desperate whine.
She doesn’t keep you waiting much longer, though, even lets her thumb caress your wrist once when she notices the defenselessness in your eyes. “Get on your knees?” Her voice is low and raspy as she asks, already just as affected as you.
You open your mouth for a moment, about to answer, but soon realize that there are no better words to agree to her suggestion than your own actions. Also, your brain feels like it’s somewhere else and you barely feel capable of forming coherent worded answers.
You nod, and Lara cups the side of your neck to give you a peck on the lips before you move down to kneel in front of her. She’s immediately opening her legs and dragging her butt closer to the edge of the bed, moving her crotch closer to your face.
She’s not as obvious as you are when it comes to showing how needy she is and how much she’s missed this, which is why you make sure to put on a good show for her. You want her to like it, want to get a good reaction out of her.
You want her to touch herself to the memory of this when she’s by herself, and to make her so needy right now that she has no other thought in her mind but to fuck you to oblivion after it.
You look up at her as you drag the jeans down her legs, make sure to keep a mental image of her focused face and the way she gulps, her hands gripping the comforter by her sides, probably to hold herself from shoving the silicone dick down your throat right now.
Once you’ve taken her pants off, you give her a small smile before pressing a few light, open-mouthed kisses to the tip, grabbing it by the base to keep it close to your mouth when you start kitten-licking it teasingly.
Lara only bites her lip as she watches you, and you revel in how harshly she’s biting it, how her hips already seem to be struggling to stay put, how labored her breathing already sounds.
You position your tongue at the base and run it up to the tip, taking it inside your mouth afterwards. The sight makes Lara moan like she could feel your mouth on her. Or maybe it was more the fact that you cared enough about her to be on your knees for her, in a stranger’s room while your boyfriend was downstairs. “Yeah, suck that dick—just like that.” She whispers.
She lets you do your own thing for a while, enjoys the sight as you go up and down the strap and take pauses to kiss the tip every once in a while, your hand covering the part of it that you can’t fit into your mouth. That is until you can.
You let your hand grip her knee instead and drop your head all the way down to her pelvis, your nose touching her lower abdomen as you deepthroat her. “Fuck, good fucking girl. Get it nice and wet for me.” It makes her sit up straighter, grab a fistful of your hair in appreciation as she begins guiding your pace.
She sits there, hissing and moaning as you keep relaxing your throat for her, trying your hardest to be good as she holds your head down when you take her deep. “Bet you don’t even need the spit, huh? Bet you’re so wet you could take it with no prep.” She mutters, entranced by watching you blow it just as her hand on your head dictates.
She makes you deepthroat her a last time, only sets you free when she hears you’re choking on the strap, and lets out a deep groan when she sees all the spit drooling from the side of your mouth. You moan when she drags you away from her dick, pulling you by the hair softly to get a better look at you.
You’re a fucking mess already. Your eyes are all red and glassy, makeup smudged and drool dripping all the way to your neck and still, you look fucking satisfied, even if she hasn’t touched you yet. She damn near loses it.
“Fuck, come here.” She grabs your face, one of her palms can feel some of the drool in your face as she leans down to kiss you hungrily. She swallows a raspy whimper that comes out of your throat as her tongue forces her way inside your mouth.
You open for her without much resistance, letting her tongue hit yours as your head leans up to meet her in the kiss. Lara lets out a satisfied moan when you let her explore your mouth to her will, running her tongue against yours fervently.
Your hands rest at her knees to push yourself up, standing up in front of her. Lara helps you undress hastily from where she’s sitting in front of you and soon you’re sitting on her lap, naked, and kissing her again. Without much preamble you take a hold of her strap, positioning the tip against your wet entrance. You break the kiss to whisper against her ear, “can I?” and press a small kiss behind her ear after.
Lara’s strong hands grip your hips as she looks up at you, nodding. “Go ahead baby.”
You ignore the summersaults your heart makes at the pet name and bite your lip as you lower on the toy, slowly taking every inch inside of you while Lara just watches, stupidly turned on.
“Yeah? Big enough for you?” She asks, voice breathy and hoarse as her eyes move up from the sight of her strap burying inside your pussy to your blissed-out face, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as you finally take it all.
You nod your head, locking your eyes on hers as your arms wrap around her neck, taking some time to adjust to the size of the dick inside of you. “Perfect.”
Lara smiles at your answer, satisfied that the toy she bought for you is still better than your boyfriend. Definitely bigger, too. One of her hands stays on your hip as you begin grinding slow circles against her hips while the other rests on the bed, leaning her weight back on it as she watches.
She’ll let you do the work for now, she decides. If you want it, you can chase it yourself.
You decide to accommodate to Lara’s plans, having expected her to grab your hips and fuck her strap deep into you. Instead, you focus on chasing the pleasure that the stretching fullness is giving you while making sure to give her a nice sight, as you begin bouncing on the strap.
One of your hands moves to pull at the end of her top and she quickly discards it, throwing it somewhere close to her pants and leaving her in her sports bra. She chuckles when you start pulling on that too, and takes it off as well, leaving you both naked.
The room fills with the wet, lewd noises your pussy is making, along with your pitiful whines as you keep your hips moving. It’s not enough though, just having Lara watching you like this without doing anything. It’s not often you get to have her like this and you need more.
You need to feel that she wants you, that she’s just as desperate as you. You grab the hand that’s resting on your hip then, and guide it up, make sure to give her your best doe eyes as you move it to your neck and help her wrap her hand around it.
She takes the hint swiftly and chuckles as she lets her fingers curl around the curvature of your neck, squeezing the sides of it. “Such a fucking slut,” she says while laughing. There’s not much you can say, it’s not like you can deny it, so you just let out a whiny plead for more as you keep rocking your hips, faster now that you feel the soft pressure of her hand on your neck. “Play with your clit for me.”
Your eyes close in relief for an instant when you hear the instruction, glad that she’s finally taken pity on you and decided to give you more. You don’t waste time to sneak a hand between your bodies and start rubbing your clit exactly how you like it, matching the speed of your hips as they chase the feeling of the tip of Lara’s strap hitting your deepest spot.
The combined ministrations make your eyes close in bliss, and the lust makes all your inhibitions loosen as the room gets filled with your moans, your hips gaining speed as they bounce and your pussy starts forming a ring of cream around the base of the toy.
You can feel your climax getting closer with each movement of your hips, with each perfect rub of your fingers against your clit. “Missed you, so much Lars… hm, fuck—no one fucks me like you do… missed your cock, s-so much.” You begin blabbering out filthy words as your brain starts emptying out of logical thoughts. It’s only Lara, Lara, Lara.
Your words are already enough to make her want to thrust up into you to feel the base of the strap against her clit for some relief. The way you say it, like you’re not even thinking about it and it’s just slipping out of your mouth because you’re being fucked stupid, because her strap makes you feel so good that it turns your brain into mush, makes you dumb enough to talk to her like that and let her fuck you after how she’s treated you and with your boyfriend right outside... It makes all her self-resolve evaporate.
You aren’t expecting it when Lara repositions you suddenly, and in a matter of seconds has you on fours after some manhandling. She kneels behind you, immediately shoving her strap back inside of you with a grunt and resuming the pace you previously had. “Yeah? You missed this cock?”
She fucks you with a steady, strong rhythm, letting your hips chase her thrusts while she keeps her hand on your back. You can feel her groaning and huffing and it drives you fucking insane, making you try to speed up her pace by moving your hips quicker. You gasp in shock as you feel her heavy hand slap your ass twice, biting your lip as she squeezes the cheek afterwards.
“I missed this pussy, baby.” Lara mutters, pulling out and rubbing the head of the strap through your folds a couple of times. She pushes inside again without a hurry, lazily guiding your hips to meet her now slow thrusts, silently punishing you for trying to rush her. “Fucking made for me, look at you.” You swear there’s a small whimper after her words, but you don’t manage to really catch it since she smacks your backside again and you moan from the delicious pain.
She gives you some slow thrusts before you’re rushing things again, chasing your high once more by meeting her hips faster and faster, not caring about the consequences. Lara doesn’t scold you or punish you for it this time, instead she lets you fasten the pace again while she keeps a hand gripping your hip (that you’re sure will leave imprints of her fingers) while the other caresses your back. “Wanna cum, princess?”
“So bad.” You nod, whimpering. Your arms give out, which forces you to hold yourself up on your elbows. The position only gives Lara a more satisfying arch of your back to look at as she fucks you, your ass jiggling each time it meets her hips.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah—wanna cum all over your cock, baby… please, more.” Your words are all slurred and jumbled together but Lara can understand you perfectly, can feel the trickle of her own arousal sliding down her thigh, losing her own mind over how affected you sound by how she’s fucking you, and she wonders why she ever let this go, feels stupid that she did.
She knows she could tell you, apologize and say it was dumb. But her ego tells her the most logical course of action is to make you feel dumb too, fuck you dumb on her cock just like this until your logic and thoughts are out the window, so that the only thing you can think about is begging her for more and take whatever she gives you. Because you’re hers—you always have been.
The shakiness of your words from the thrusts you’re receiving, the neediness in your tone… “Fuck.” Lara whispers, moving a hand up your back and grabbing a fistful of your hair to push your head down to the mattress. Your arms give out easily under you and soon Lara’s hissing and plowing into you from behind, keeping your face smushed against the bed as your arms lay limply on each side of your head.
Your moans turn into sobs that match with the rhythm of Lara’s thrusts into your pussy, but she’s relentless. The tears that run down your face wet the fabric underneath you along with your drool. “You like that?” She asks you, her breathless voice mixing with the creaking of the bed. “This what you need? To be fucked like a slut so you can cum?”
You obviously don’t mention that you were close to coming from the moment you dropped to your knees in front of her and just nod, or at least try to as best as you can with her hand still pushing your head down. Lara can still feel the movement under her palm, smiling at the state of you, the mess she’s made of you.
“C’mon, take this cock baby… so fucking sexy.” She mutters, breathless from the effort of plowing into you at a forceful, consistent pace, her words more for herself than you.
Lara lets the hand holding your hip slide between your body and the bed to play with your clit, letting her body weight rest on top of you fully as she keeps her hips moving to fuck you. The pace is slightly slower but her fingers on your neglected clit are earth-shatteringly good.
Her hand moves with difficulty, with the little space to move it has, and her fingers aren’t precise or very technical with the way they rub messy, quick circles over your nub. Still, it’s what throws you over the edge, making your pussy contract against Lara’s strap, juices coating it as your eyes roll back.
Lara slows down her thrusts gradually, skillfully letting her momentum help prolong your high as long as possible. She almost forgets she’s still stimulating your clit, only stops once you let out a spent, small mewl from the sensitivity and begin to move your hand to stop hers.
Lara stops before your hand can reach hers, kisses your shoulder apologetically and moves her hand from under you, gripping yours beside your head to keep you from moving as you both recover, breathing heavily with your eyes closed. You haven’t felt this protected in months, with Lara on top of you.
The quiet peace doesn’t last long, however. You feel soft lips press against your shoulder again, this time with more intent, leaving wet kisses on the heated skin of your back and downwards. You whine tiredly, moving your head to the side to try to catch a glimpse of her behind you.
You watch the top of her head descend progressively, feel her kisses trail down your spine. “Lara.” You rasp out admonishingly.
Lara just throws a short look your way, proceeding to ignore you as she moves further down, biting your ass cheek playfully. You hiss at the feeling but choose not to say anything else as she lays between your legs. She repositions your hips to expose your pussy to her, and licks a broad stripe over your slit that has you shivering.
She hums against your folds, lets the vibrations carry over to you. “Tastes so good.”
You hum back, unable to form any other word in appreciation for her praise. “Sensitive,” you explain with a small move of your hips, your voice weakened and soft.
Lara glances up at you again, throws a frown your way before kissing the spot where the marks of her teeth are reddening on your backside. “Shh, baby. You can take it… be a good girl and let me taste you, yeah?” She uses a soft tone while she says it that makes a part of you feel like she’s talking down to you… another part of you only wants to give her what she wants, be a good girl for her and make sure she enjoys you enough that she doesn’t just discard you again after tonight.
That even if she doesn’t call or text tomorrow, she’ll think about you and how you gave her everything she wanted and more, it’ll linger with her for longer than any other girl she fucks. So, you nod along with a pathetic, short whine.
“Words.” You can feel her breath on your core that’s already dripping again in anticipation for her mouth.
“Yeah. I can take it.” You catch a glimpse of her smile before your eyes close as soon as Lara’s tongue is on you again. Your moans are loud and raspy as she devours you with no regard for your sensitivity, clit buzzing in a pain-pleasure seesaw.
She keeps her tongue messy and insistent over your pussy, licking all over and giving special attention to your clit, moving her head side to side as she sucks to give you her best.
You’re a fucking mess. Your moans bounce loudly against the walls of the room, your hips thrash wildly against Lara’s face, squirming and not knowing whether to move away or push her closer. No, you definitely want to push her closer.
You don’t have time to move your hand down to her head before her tongue is suddenly slipping upwards, sliding over your folds and all the way between your cheeks. You gasp, shocked at the unexpected touch. “A-ah, Lara, wait.”
She lets out a small huff but listens to you, backing away slightly. “What, baby? Every inch of you belongs to me, isn’t that right?” Lara dives back in without waiting for a response, knowing that the best way to convince you is to show you just how good it can feel to have her tongue there, to let her have you completely, with no inhibitions or taboos to stand in the way.
She shoves her face close and starts running her tongue over your hole, letting spit cover the area and drip down toward your pussy as she stays between your cheeks. You have to bite your lip to hold a loud moan back. No one’s ever touched you there, not even yourself. You’ve never even considered the possibility, certain that you wouldn’t enjoy it.
Of course, leave it to Lara to make you enjoy anal play. Fuck. Your pussy is dripping and she’s ignoring it fully in favor of tasting you elsewhere, of devoting herself to another hole of yours. “Oh—yes, ‘m all yours Lars.”
Lara perseveres against the smirk that forms on her face at your words, keeping her focus on tasting you fully as her nose smashes into the crack of your ass to be closer. Her tongue licks and prods and her jaw aches from the effort but her attention is on pushing for more of you, of this new taste. “Yeah? Even this tight little ass belongs to me?” She asks between licks.
“Mm-hm,” is all you’re able to give her, brain blown away from the new sensation. You’re sure it’s because it’s Lara. It wouldn’t be anyone else between your open legs and their face buried between your cheeks but her.
She laughs a little, before going back to lick your ass vigorously, maybe as a reward for being so fucking horny and letting her do this. She always loved how lustful you got, how blinded it got you. “You like it, baby?”
“S-so much, your tongue feels so good—missed it so much.” You answer honestly. She has you squirming and moaning sobbing with pleasure. You had missed her tongue. You had missed her. Will miss her again once the party is over, maybe even before that, because maybe she’ll leave right after she’s done with you and leave you to return to your boyfriend on shaky legs and exit the party how you left; without her.
But for now, you have her, and she has you. And that’s enough. “You’re my whore, baby. Only mine."