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joelsgoldrush · 1 month ago

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“crawl home to her” | 7.5k

old man!logan x f!reader

SUMMARY: Will he be able to control himself once he's near you? In this moment, he feels more animal than human. Creeping, on the verge of crawling, back to you. OR Like a sinner seeking absolution, he finds his way back to you after every absence, as if you're the only salvation he's ever known.

WARNINGS/TAGS: mdni smut 18+ cursing. drinking. dirty talk. some fluff. comfort. feelings. self-deprecation. miscommunication. sort of established relationship. age gap (reader's in her late 20s). petnames. religious imagery. logan's POV. chauffeur!logan. dom!logan. reader wears logan's dog tags and clothes. pussy pronouns. phone sex. oral sex (f and m receiving). 69. fingering. masturbation (he jerks off in the limo). one (1) single spank. sort of rough sex. unprotected p in v. creampie.

A/N: i wrote this as a part 2 of this story, but still, it can be read as a standalone (i'd recommend that you also read the first part as well 👀 you'll understand their relationship better). hope you like this one! <3

Logan is tired. Bone-deep, soul-crushingly tired.

He takes a slow, deliberate drag from his cigar, letting the smoke curl inside his chest, teasing his lungs. Doesn’t even bother to crack the window open—why would he?—before exhaling, the haze lingering inside the limo like a fog.

One quick glance at his phone screen just to make sure his vision isn’t screwing him over—no older notifications. A pang of disillusionment settles in his being.

Not only is he fighting to keep his eyes open, exhausted from driving the same family around for the past few days while they enjoy their quality time, but he’s also bored out of his mind.

Where the hell are you?

He adjusts his glasses, pushing them higher up on the bridge of his nose, preventing them from sliding down to his lap. When his phone buzzes, he jolts, nearly hitting his head on the roof of the limo due to his excitement.

His poor heart gallops as he fumbles with the screen, unlocking it with the same urgency as a man starved for contact.

But it’s not you. It’s one of his passengers.

We’re getting out in half an hour, the message reads. By we, she means herself, her husband, and their two kids.

Logan can’t bring himself to type an actual reply, so he leaves her on read. She knows he’s not going anywhere, parked outside the arcade as if he’s rooted in place with no way out.

Family after family enters that hell on earth, kids of all ages bouncing on their heels, voices shrill with enthusiasm. He watches, half-heartedly, as parents get dragged by their little ones, who negotiate how much money they are allowed to spend tonight.

He almost feels bad for those parents. Almost. He hopes that at least they know how to say ‘No’.

All in all, he’s got another thirty minutes of solitude ahead. The radio has long since ceased to entertain him. He’s been parked here for two hours, and his mind is starting to drift. He could stretch his legs, walk around, or maybe grab a drink—but damn it.

He wants to talk to you.

You’d said he could call you after dropping the family off. That was three hours ago. The last message he received from you was still stuck in his head, replaying over and over like a lifeline. Logan knows you must be busy, probably taking care of Charles and—

Okay, he’ll get back to that later.

You: Just got out of the shower. Call me in five?

Right now, he could die a happy man. Were he a dog, his tail would be wagging furiously, anticipation already building for the simple joy of hearing you.

Logan: Got it.

The next five minutes feel like an eternity. He finishes his cigar, flicking the stub beneath the seat without giving it a second thought. For now, he doesn’t care about being a messy fucker. He’ll deal with the mess some other time.

Priorities.

A quick spritz of some cheap air freshener he picked up from a gas station fills the car, masking the distinctive scent of smoke. God forbid the kids start whining about how ‘weird’ it smells in the limo.

With a grimace, he sprays a little more—floral, of all scents? It feels insulting.

How kind of him to still be this considerate.

His thumb hovers over your contact, and he presses the call button with an agility he hasn’t had in years (thanks to you).

One, two, three rings, and then—

“Logan,” you say softly, your voice a little breathless, like you’ve been hurrying all over the place.

He stops grinding his jaw, the tension in his shoulders easing. He unclenches his fists, fingers uncurling one by one, as if letting go of some invisible burden.

Outside the vehicle, people stop dying, babies stop being born, and the world itself pauses just for him to listen to you.

You can’t see him, but he smiles either way. “Hey, baby.”

“Gosh, I’m so sorry. I lost track of time talking to Charles. We had dinner, and then I just—I felt so gross, you know? From cooking and all that. Took a shower, and it got pretty late.”

You end with a sigh, and he imagines you rubbing a hand over your face. “Please tell me you weren’t sleeping when I texted you.”

“Not even close. Still waiting for them.”

“They’re really taking their time, huh?”

“You wouldn’t believe it,” he murmurs, his fingers drumming a soft rhythm on the steering wheel. “How was your day?”

“Great! I’m already in bed.”

“My bed.”

You laugh, that sweet sound making his heart stutter. “Well, yeah. Where else do you want me to sleep if I’m at your place? On the floor?”

If someone had told Logan a year ago that he’d let someone live in his space, let alone take care of Charles, he’d have scoffed. "Pathetic," he’d have said, rolling his eyes with that familiar growl in his throat. Pretty sure he’d also puffed his chest while saying so.

Because Logan Howlett wasn’t one for accepting help. He’s been on his own since the earth was still cooling down.

But for you? He made exceptions. Plenty of them. And if it weren’t for your altruism, he wouldn’t have accepted this job—a job that pays well enough to cover Charles’ meds and put food on the table. He needs this rich family’s money.

“You’ve got a girlfriend now?” Charles had asked, when Logan explained he’d be staying with you while he went away for a few days.

“Big word you’re using there,” Logan had replied, placing two pills into Charles’ palm. The old man gave him a death stare. “Don’t play dumb. It’s not like you don’t know the drill.”

Mumbling something incoherent before swallowing the pills, Charles had taken slow sips of water between each one, sinking back into the mattress with a weary sigh. “If she’s not your girlfriend, then what is she?”

“A friend.”

“That’s nice. Is that what they’re calling it now?”

He shakes that memory away, forcing his mind back to the call. “Try not to be so kind to him. What if he falls in love with you?” he inquires, a mocking tone weaving through his words.

And that’s when you drop the bombshell. “You mean like you did?”

You laugh, but Logan… doesn’t. He can’t do it. He makes sure he’s breathing on command: in and out, in and out, in and out.

The mention of love unsettles him. He doesn’t feel safe anymore, doesn’t know what game you’re playing. Where’s the rulebook?

Is he—could he be—falling in love with you? Is that what you’re implying? And if so, do you feel the same?

In the long run, you mumble: “It was a joke.” Only then do his lungs fill with fresh air, untainted by the weight of his unease. But he can’t let it pass, the fact you sound disappointed. Defeated.

He promised himself he’d never hurt you. Though he doesn’t intend to, it feels as if he’s just stabbed you in the back, twisting the knife further into your frame—unwillingly.

“Remember the—” he pauses a moment, throwing his head back in frustration, silently cursing himself. “The pills. You’ve been giving them to him, right?”

“Yes, Logan.”

“Please, remember it’s only—”

“Logan,” you try again, cutting through the wave of his spiraling thoughts. He can picture you behind closed lids, looking at him through your lashes, your hand resting gently on his chest. “I have it under control, okay? He’s doing alright. I swear I’m taking good care of him.”

“I don’t doubt that, honey.” Casting a glance at the rearview mirror, he feels an unexpected sense of longing for your presence there, like a ghost haunting his every move, confined to the limits of his brain. “Can’t help but worry. That’s all.”

A soft hum reverberates through the line. He hears the rustle of sheets, the sound of you tossing around in his bed, and his pulse quickens at the thought.

“You said you’re sleepin’ on my bed.”

“Good memory you have.”

“You wearin’ my clothes as well?”

Thick silence, the kind he relishes.

“Yeah,” you finally reply, shifting the phone from side to side. You take a deep breath, and add: “I forgot to bring mine.”

He hates how you easily find a way to get him riled up despite being miles away. It must be the power of words.

“I don’t believe you.” He knows he shouldn’t, hates himself for doing it, but one of his hands palms the half-hard bulge in his black slacks, suppressing a low groan. “Think you did it on purpose.”

A rush of heat, sharp and urgent, washes over him. Is he really about to do this? Get himself off in the very car he uses for work? Twisted, incredibly sick of him, he thinks.

Still, he craves more. “Tell me what you’re wearing.”

You laugh at his demanding tone, fanning the flames of his desperation. “When did you turn into a horny teenager?”

“Always been, baby,” Logan purrs, undoing the button of his pants, followed by the fly. His eyes flick upwards for just a moment—no cars, no one in sight. He’s presumably alone. It’s all the confirmation he needs to say: “C’mon. Tell your old man what clothes you stole from him.”

He’s never done this before—phone sex. He’s heard about it, sure, but never imagined he’d fall so hard for the idea. The thrill of it sinks into him, electrifying.

What are you doing? Is your lip caught between your teeth? Do your eyes wander down your own body? Maybe your fingers are already skimming over your skin.

“It’s just a random shirt,” you murmur. “Plain, white.”

“What else?”

“There’s nothing else.”

Logan’s breath hitches as his hand moves to his cock, spotting the damp patch on his briefs where the tip has already started to leak. The moment he slides the elastic down past his balls, he fists his shaft in a slow stroke, going from the base to the head. “No panties? And you expect me t’believe this wasn’t planned?”

Your muffled whimper is like molten lava spilling into his ear, bringing him to full hardness. More shuffling follows on your end, driving him wild with the anticipation. “Why do you do this to me if you’re not here?”

“‘Cause I want you touchin’ yourself just like I’m doin’.” He thumbs the head, hips jerking involuntarily at the sensation. He aches to feel your mouth there instead. “Bet that pussy’s been cryin’ out for me, huh? Must’ve got used to me fillin’ her every other night.”

Your breathing grows more uneven, small gasps filtering through the speaker. “I need you here with me. This is—ugh—not enough.”

“What’s not enough, sweetheart?”

There’s a pause as the sound of your phone shifts again, and then he hears it clearly—the wet, needy sound of your fingers working between your legs, filling the silence with the loud squelching of your cunt. “My fingers,” you blurt out, more distant than before, like you’re merging with the bed, dissolving with every touch.

Logan spits roughly into his palm, the slickness of his saliva easing the drag of his calloused hand along his length, good enough to make the movement more satisfying.

He moans aloud, eyes shut tight, your name slipping from his lips, a whispered prayer, as if saying it could somehow summon you to his side. “I spoil you too much,” he rasps, wedging his phone between his ear and shoulder, using every resource available to him, anything to feel something real. “Seems like you’ve forgotten how to make yourself come.”

Your moans follow his, the breathy sounds a clear sign of how close you are, hanging on the edge, your release just a heartbeat away. But it’s not enough, and you need him. He wonders if you can feel his thoughts from miles away, because— “Want your cock so bad, Lo. I m-miss you.”

He has to stop jerking himself to hold off his orgasm, stomping his foot against the pedals. “Fuck, darlin’. You keep sayin’ those things and I swear I’ll be back with you by morning.”

His sole focus now is you—getting you to come. Driven by his growing frenzy, it’s the only coherent thought that claws through the haze in his mind. “Keep talking, please,” you plead, fingers still lost in the heat of your body. “Tell me what you’ll do to me when you see me.”

Logan picks up the rhythm again, his movements faltering as his chest heaves, ragged breaths spilling out while his hand works faster. “Gonna fuck you slow and deep, just how you like it. Face to face, so you can kiss me as much as you want, ‘cause I know my girl loves that, am I right?”

My girl. He’ll regret that one the second the high fades and clarity sets in.

Word after word falls from his lips without thought, uncontrollable, as though he’s surrendered to the storm of desire raging in his being—a storm in which your name is the eye of it all.

You are everywhere, and you take up all the empty spaces he thought were impossible to fill, sinking into the depths of his unconsciousness.

Not a single part of him is left untouched by you, by the power of your presence in his life, consuming him in ways he never imagined.

Your airy mewls ripple through the line, feeding his ravenousness, adding to the tightening knot of pleasure coiling low in his abdomen. His muscles strain, thighs tensing. Each stroke of his hand prolongs this sweet torture.

“Come for me, princess. You’d make me so h-happy if you came right now.”

And you do, because it’s not just his touch anymore—it’s his voice, and the way he commands you without force. How you’ve become accustomed to him, nodding along to each instruction he mutters.

Beneath your fingers, your swollen clit pulses, and though he can’t see it, he imagines it perfectly, having spent enough time worshiping it.

He knows, even from a distance, what your body must be doing. Your back arching off the bed, thighs quivering and clenching tight around your own hand. Those perfect legs of yours trembling as you reach your so-desired climax.

Loud and unrestrained, you moan, and for a moment, he wants to be with you so badly that he ponders if the theory of traveling across time and space sounds that far-fetched after all.

Logan doesn't need much after that for the thread to snap at long last, his groans dying on his lips as he stares in awe at the spurts of his seed landing wherever his eyes fall: a bit on the top of his pants, on his hand, his briefs. His cock twitches in his grip as he continues stroking himself through the aftershocks, gulping when it becomes too much to handle.

So phone sex is off the list now. Great.

“Miss you, too,” he mumbles once he’s caught his breath, tossing his glasses onto the passenger seat. His forehead feels damp to the touch, and he contemplates when was the last time he came this hard.

The elephant in the room hasn’t been addressed yet. He knows you expect him to say more, something deeper and rawer, but that’s all he can force himself to spit out.

Sometimes, he forgets that you can’t read him all the time. Although you know him better than anyone else, there are certain thoughts and memories locked tightly inside him, things you'd never discover on your own. Secrets he admits he should share with you, but he’s at a loss for how. Words aren’t doable when he needs them the most.

Maybe it's a matter of age—you’re a natural at voicing your feelings.

At some point, you ask: “When did you say you were returning?”

One thing’s clear: he can’t afford to lose you. He’d be an idiot if he let that happen.

“In five days, I think.” Were he with you, he'd hold you in his arms, kissing your lips. God, how he misses kissing you. All of you. “I’ll keep you updated.”

“It’s okay,” you respond, and in his mind, a blank canvas fills with the familiar image of you lying on your side, curling into a ball the way you always do. “I should go to sleep. Talk to you tomorrow.”

“Sure.” Thank you for everything. “Get some rest.” Are you still in love with me? “Bye.” I’m coming back. You know how I feel about you, do you?

So much left unsaid, words he lacks the strength to speak. That, along with his come-stained clothes. And, of course, the limousine now perfumed like a flower shop.

Exhaustion clings to him again.

His luck has never been this good.

The next afternoon, one of the couple’s kids falls ill. Must be something he ate, the woman tells Logan, her voice light, though he can hear the shuffle of urgency behind her words.

Her husband packs their bags in the background, the muted thuds of luggage hitting the floor. You know how children are. Their hands are always filthy!

What she doesn’t realize is that Logan, in fact, doesn’t know how children are, because how could he?

He’s holed up in the hotel across the street, his only responsibility being to wait on their call, ready to drive whenever they needed him. Needless to say, his accommodations are nothing like theirs. Not that he minds it—he’s not one for luxury, has never needed it.

Truth be told, he’s no stranger to beds that groan if you shift slightly, clogged toilets that spit back water like they’re alive.

Joy rushes through him when he hears the news. He’s coming back earlier than expected, a thrill building in his chest. Twelve days he’s been away, his greed growing with each second in that desolate hotel room.

Now, the beating of his heart quickens, a faint thrumming as he stares out the window. He debates whether to let you know about his early return or keep it as a surprise. Would it be better if he just showed up?

How would you feel, knowing that, by the time the lights are out, he’ll be yours again?

He knows he should feel sorry for the poor kid, but all he can muster is a look of concern that barely reaches his eyes. Each time they pull into a gas station, he listens to the hurried slap of footsteps as the boy rushes for the bathroom to empty his insides.

He watches in the rearview as the kid’s father shakes his head, clicking his tongue with disapproval. “Do you have kids?” he asks, his voice forced into a casual tone, like he’s trying to break the silence that’s settled between them.

Logan’s only response is to turn up the radio, some pop song he’s never heard spilling from the speakers. The lyrics are a blur of nonsense to him, but it’s enough to drown out the man’s words and the boy’s misery.

Some things never change.

As the sun dips below the horizon, he’s finally free, no longer at anyone’s beck and call. He contemplates the possibility of getting a speeding ticket, weighing his options. It hardly matters. The pull to see you, to feel you, is stronger than anything else.

Even though he tries to think of another time in his life when he felt such a raw need, no memory comes close.

When he does pull up to his place, he does it quietly. Parking the limo, he doesn’t honk, doesn’t announce himself. Fumbling with the keys ever so lightly so as not to wake you up, fitting them into the lock.

His wrist twists, and the door gives way with a soft creak.

Anxiety ripples through him as he steps inside. The smell of freshly cooked food hits him, but it only tightens the knot in his stomach, reminding him of how long it’s been since he last ate.

Later, he tells himself. After. Once he’s sated his true hunger—the kind of hunger that can only be satisfied by sinking his fingers into something real, fleshy, malleable.

Hunger—yes, it’s animalistic, feral even. Will he be able to control himself once he’s near you? In moments like this, he feels more animal than human. Creeping, on the verge of crawling, back to you.

His feet take him to his bedroom, knowing the path to it very well. Fingers hovering over the knob, he takes a deep breath.

It’s already late, past midnight, yet energy courses through his veins as though he’s just woken from a long, ethereal dream.

He finds you asleep, your body wrapped snugly in the sheets, clutching a pillow close to your chest. Your cheek is pressed into it, breathing soft and steady, lulling him in. Kneeling on the edge of the bed, he kicks off his shoes, then slips in beside you, mirroring your position.

A lamp sits on his nightstand, one that isn’t his, and he figures you must have brought it from your apartment. There has to be a symbolism for that.

It’s incredible how his entire world can fit into such a narrow bed.

The smart thing would be to let you sleep, to simply watch you for a moment longer. But he can’t help himself.

His thumb lingers near your face before gently cupping your cheek, and the very first contact with your skin sends a shudder through him, the warmth of your skin grounding him. He trails his fingers down to your chin, holding it with just enough pressure to remind himself that he’s here.

Leaning in, he presses his lips softly against your forehead, your typical perfume wrapping around him like a welcome.

Welcome home, Logan.

For the first time, he feels that someone’s been counting down the minutes until his return. He’d always believed a person like him didn’t deserve this. That he just wasn’t built for it.

Countless years had he spent convincing himself he’d never be the kind of man who could inspire love. His life had already been written long ago—predetermined by some cruel hand in the sky.

Destiny, fate, call it what you want—once the cards are laid out, there’s no escaping them. Or so he used to think.

You had taken that pen into your own hands, rewriting his future. You, of all people, had changed his life. No matter what the future held for the two of you, he’d always be grateful. Grateful that you’d seen the dim spark in him that others had chosen to ignore.

Thoughtlessly, his fingers continue their gentle strokes along your cheek, your hair. You stir beside him, shifting in your sleep. Your eyes flutter open, close again, and then open once more, blinking in confusion.

“Logan?” you croak, voice still groggy and thick with sleep, coming to your senses. Before he can respond, you throw yourself on top of him, smothering his face with kisses. “Why—how—”

“Sweetheart,” he says, attempting to hide his grin, but failing when your kisses shift to his neck, your nose nuzzling against his skin. A laugh slips out, warmth flooding his chest.

“You didn’t tell me you were coming home early!”

Home. Had he heard right? Had you used that word knowingly?

Peering into your eyes, he catches his reflection in your pupils, tiredness etched into his features. “Wanted it to be a surprise.”

“You could’ve told me,” you reply, fingers threading through his greying locks, massaging his scalp. You place a tender kiss on the tip of his nose. “I would’ve waited up for you at least.”

“Well, I’m here now,” he whispers back, gaze drifting to your lips, and you close the space between you, his sigh mingling with yours as one hand cradles the small of your back, fisting the fabric of his shirt. His other hand tilts your head, inviting your tongues to greet each other in an unhurried dance.

You move languidly on top of him, and he notices, breaking the kiss and pulling back. “You’re gonna fall asleep on me, are you?”

The way your lashes flutter in response should be illegal. “I could use a human-size pillow.”

“I should shower first.”

“No.”

“Baby, I smell like gas.”

“So?”

A smirk tugs at his lips at your insistence, and he gently lays you back against the mattress. Drawn to your charm once again, he licks into your mouth, mentally scolding himself when he gets carried away, letting the kiss linger longer than intended.

“I’ll be quick,” he promises, pulling the sheets over your body. Resigned, you simply nod, settling on your side.

Ten minutes later, you’re dozing off, teetering on the edge of unconsciousness when he slips into bed, wrapping himself around you from behind. One arm drapes over your waist, the other cushions your head, and there’s not a patch of skin between you left untouched.

Fatigue begins to delve deeper into his bones the longer he stays curled around you, but before the weight of sleep takes him, and the silence steals his chance, he huffs: “I missed you.” His beard grazes your skin in a soft, unintentional caress.

You pull his wrist to your lips, pressing a short-lived kiss to the inside of it. “Missed you, too.”

How the roles have reversed.

In the quietness of this starless night, you leave him no other choice but to believe you.

3:34 a.m. Still hostage to the lack of light outside. The world remains submerged in the gentle tides of sleep, undulating between dreams, except for him.

Logan wakes up at 3:34 a.m. because he’s rock hard, and being flushed against your back wasn’t helping him with his situation at all. If anything, it only heightened it.

He sits at the edge of the bed, his mind running in circles, debating whether he should jump to his feet and head to the bathroom for another shower—this time, a cold one. Returning to sleep, at least in this moment, is not a viable option.

His gaze drifts to the moonlight spilling through the window, casting its pale glow across the room. Is this your doing? The question lingers, unshakable, in his thoughts. It remains as just that: a question.

When you quietly rest your chin on his shoulder, he stifles a sigh, biting the inside of his cheek. Your voice breaks through the quiet.

“What’s wrong? Can’t sleep?” Wrapping your arms around him from behind, you circle his frame, in an effort to persuade him to sink back into the mattress.

“It’s nothing,” he says, pulse accelerating. Please, don’t look down. “I’ll be back in a second.”

“But what is—”

He doesn’t get to hear the rest of your sentence. You do look down, finding the outline of his hardened cock straining against his briefs, stealing your full attention.

“Wow.”

“Go back to sleep.”

“And leave you like this?” One hand creeps toward his waistband, your breath warm against his ear. “Wouldn’t miss this for anything in the world.”

Your nails trace a path through the coarse hair at his navel, and Logan tenses. His legs feel like jelly as you cup his balls, fondling them gently between your fingers.

Behind him, your low chuckle stirs something primal in him, making his blood thrum hot beneath his skin. He should be the one doing this to you, not the other way around.

“Darlin’, I don’t—” He’s cut off by his own guttural groan when you fist his length, pumping him in rhythm with his uneven breaths. “I don’t need this.”

“Seems like you do,” you whisper, momentarily halting your ministrations to place your palm in front of his face, hoping he takes the hint. You kiss his stubble, pausing just short of his mouth. “I want to take care of you. Always do.”

Your palm hovers before him, inviting. Grabbing your wrist, he licks it, coating it in his spit and guiding you back down to him. Together, your hands glide along his length, and his gaze locks onto yours, the intensity of it making his neck tense.

You beam with delight under his stare. That red organ caged within his ribs—a blood-pumping machine of passion—surges back to life as he sees you.

He had won the battle. He had triumphed over his past; had lived enough lives, endured enough years, to arrive at this moment.

This had to be the purpose of his existence: to share this part of his stay on earth with you.

“You’re so hard,” you say, twisting your wrist at the tip of his cock, reveling in every buck of his hips, each movement a reflection of his exaltation. “Guess you did miss me.”

With a quiet growl, he reaches behind, nudging your thighs apart until they find your mound, cupping you through your underwear. “I’m not the only one who’s been missin’ someone.” He pulls the fabric aside, sliding his fingers through your wet folds. His nostrils flare as he feels how ready you are. “Why am I not surprised?”

Your breath hitches, and you press yourself closer against him, your tits against his back, mouth teasing at his neck. “That’s what happens when you’re gone.” Another kiss on his nape. “You could take me with you next time.”

“Can’t do that,” he answers, teasing your entrance. “No work would get done.”

His movements cease to a stop. Yours do too. Turning his head just enough to glance over his shoulder, he scrutinizes your expression, pride swelling in his chest as he takes in your affected state.

“You’re not goin’ back to sleep, are you?”

There’s the shake of your head. A single word escapes your lips, imbued with pure fervor: “Please.”

He captures your mouth in an ardent kiss, tugging at your shirt (which is, in fact, his) to undress you, his wandering hands roaming beneath it.

As his mouth meets your neck, something cold brushes against his lips, drawing his gaze down to what’s hanging from your neck.

His dog tags. The ones he had given you before leaving for that job, as his way of telling you I’m coming back without having to say it aloud. And you, as always, understood; had even promised to keep them safe, though he hadn’t expected you to actually wear them.

Now, with your shirt discarded, they lay against your bare skin, his name resting in the valley between your breasts.

“You like ‘em?” His fingers grip the chain and give it a gentle tug, drawing you closer so he can breathe over your lips, his breath mingling with yours. “Like knowing you’re mine? You get off on it?”

You nod in agreement. Of course, you do. Though emotionally constipated and not the most expressive, Logan is a lover who knows how to awaken desire—a good lover, indeed. A decent one.

Which is why he agrees to any idea that crosses your mind, like the one you just whispered in his ear.

He may be older than you, but he’s always been more on the traditional side. You, on the other hand, are continually searching for new ways to innovate.

The round globes of your ass jiggle over his face as he spreads you apart, entrenched by how your skin moves above him, your glistening hole clenching around nothing, as if your body itself is calling to him.

With his head propped against the headboard, he watches you take him deeper, your saliva dripping down the wiry hairs of his cock. The slick heat of your tongue traces over his slit, back and forth, driving him to the edge.

When he hears you gag, it stirs something inside him—a deep need to return the favor, to match your devotion.

At the end of the day, he’s a man on a mission, and right now, that mission is you.

Right there, with his nose and mouth buried in you, he wonders why he hadn't thought of this sooner. If he could choose a natural end like any other man, he'd wish for it to be by suffocation—your body his last breath.

Logan inhales deeply, like a man starved, working two of his fingers inside your throbbing center, his tongue flicking relentlessly over your clit, punching moan after moan out of you. Each thrust of his fingers, each stroke of his tongue, sends waves of pleasure coursing through you.

His beard, streaked with gray, leaves a trail of fire wherever your hips meet his face, pushing back against him. Every so often, you pull off his cock just to ramble, panting, about how good he's making you feel.

From where he lies, you’re a sight to behold, nothing short of divine. “Just what I needed, doll. You taste so fuckin’ sweet,” he blurts out, your frantic cries pouring into his ears as he sucks the swollen bud between his lips. “Can’t believe you let me do this to you. You love makin’ your old man happy, don’t you?”

He used to think he'd burn in hell for indulging in the desire to know you like this—raw, ungraceful.

His judgment must be fucked up, because now, all he sees in you is heaven incarnate. You must be the closest thing to it he’ll ever find.

“Shit, I…” you trail off, gasping as he replaces his fingers with his tongue, drinking from your arousal and tasting every bit of you. “I thought about you every day.”

“Bet you did, just like that night I called you. You know how I felt when you told me you were wearing my clothes?” His hand comes down with a firm slap on your right asscheek, drawing a whine from you as your movements falter. “Can smell you all over these sheets. Makes me wonder how many times you made yourself come while I was away.”

You slip the tip of his cock back in your mouth, your hands and lips working in sync. His nose brushes against the plush skin of your thighs before his teeth graze your flesh, biting down just enough to leave a sting. His fingers curl inside you, hitting that perfect spot again and again, and you moan around him, your throat vibrating against his length.

He makes you come like this, knuckles deep inside you while his thumb circles your clit. Overwhelmed by pleasure, you let go of his dick, and it hits Logan’s stomach with a wet pop. His strong arms tug you closer to his face, eyes falling closed as you ride the wave of your orgasm against his mouth, palms pressed flat on his chest.

For a brief moment, he can’t breathe, can’t feel anything but you, your scent, your taste filling his senses.

Later, he rolls you onto your back and climbs on top of you, uncertain of how much time he has spent lapping at your wetness. His hard length glides along your folds, and he lines himself up without pushing in, looking right into your eyes.

“Remember what I told you that night over the phone?” he asks, his breath coming in quick bursts, and you nod, head lolling back as he pinches your lower lip between his fingers. “Repeat it.”

“Logan—”

“You say it, and I’ll make it happen.”

Perplexity clouds your features. “You said you’d fuck me slow and deep, just h-how I like it. Face to face, because—”. The words escape you, a sob tearing through your throat as he eases the first few inches of himself inside you, your walls instinctively making space to wrap around him.

He’s home.

“Go on. What else did I say?” he teases, relishing in it. He’s guilty as sin. “Or were you too lost in thought touchin’ yourself?”

“F-face to face,” you slur, nails digging into his scarred back, and he keeps plunging his length into your interior to the hilt. Your lips part slightly, craving the kiss that only he can give you. “You said you’d do it face to face so I could kiss you whenever I wanted.”

He hums, low in his throat, as he gives the first thrust of the night, taking great pleasure in your expression: open-mouthed, eyes scrunched, and a slight crease forming between your brows.

Smoothing his thumb over your forehead, he tsks, pausing his movements. “None of that, princess. Look at me, c’mon.”

You obey, forcing your eyes open, and in that instant, he swears he can feel every tremor coursing through you. “Logan,” you coo, your voice aching as you stretch your neck toward his mouth.

The way you say his name—seductively, charged with a fascination that riles him up—manages to ignite a fire only you can kindle. It’s all the invitation he needs.

“I know. Too much, huh?” His tone drips with condescension, teasing in a way that feels almost cruel. He can’t help it, though: it’s in very his nature. “Need to hear you say it. Need you to tell me how much you want this.”

Like everything else in your world, your patience begins to wither, hips instinctively bucking beneath him, seeking even the slightest bit of friction. But he still withholds the kiss you long for, dangling it just out of reach.

“Please,” you beg, voice breaking as you plead. “Fuck me, baby. Missed you so much while you were away. Please, please, please—”

Logan enjoys hearing you beg. He won’t pretend otherwise. There's a satisfaction in knowing he holds this power over you, that he's the only one who can unravel you this way, your body splayed open beneath him.

The thought of others who may have once been in his place, making you fall apart just like this, sets his blood on edge.

Jealousy, sharp and corrosive, crawls up his spine, and it spurs him on, guiding the tempo of his thrusts.

He wonders if he’s ever fucked you this fiercely before, with a passion that pulses from every part of him. You’re given no space for thought, no moment to catch your breath—just his unforgiving pace and the sounds spilling from your lips.

He has a way of breaking you down, turning you into a trembling, whimpering mess beneath him, and you surrender willingly, craving each second of it.

So fuckin’ tight. Can y’hear her? How badly she needs me?

Sex had never felt like this before. He’d grown accustomed to quick, meaningless fucks in poorly lit bars, fleeting encounters that left him questioning if this was all there was. If this wasn’t the best he’d ever know.

For a while, he’d tried to solve that emptiness, searching in nameless lovers and hollow hearts for the very thing he feared most: love.

And yet, he wanted it, yearned it, guarding his desire like a secret he barely admitted to himself. Until one day, you stumbled into his life, and all the strength he thought he had wasn’t enough to push you away.

He presses deep into the back of your thighs, bringing your chests so close they're nearly brushing. Claiming your mouth in a maddening kiss, all teeth and tongue, leaving no space for softness. As he nibbles at your bottom lip, he feels you tighten around him, your cunt pulling him under, clouding his thoughts.

“Close?” he murmurs, hips snapping against you with an utterly obscene rhythm that drowns out the world, better than any song ever made. “Such a good girl. Gonna come, sweetheart? Let me see how gorgeous you look when you fall apart, making a mess just for me.”

The constant, steady drag of his cock doesn’t seem to get old for you. He’s leaving his mark within you, inside you, carving a space for himself. His tip keeps hitting all the right spots, prompting you to tilt your pelvis to meet him halfway, telling him there, yes, there. More, please.

His hand slides down, rubbing your clit with his fingers. Doesn’t need any extra help when doing so, your arousal providing all the slickness he needs. He feels like a runner on the final stretch, the finish line within reach, so close he can almost touch it, savoring the euphoria and bliss of crossing it.

The way you sing his name never loses its allure, despite all the times he’s heard it spill from your lips. Especially at this moment, with him buried deep inside you, every thrust a promise to make you feel good.

You shamelessly come while he keeps driving into you, vigorous and untamed—like a caged animal unleashed, tasting freedom for the very first time.

Ankles digging into his lower back, a trail of persistent kisses along his beard. You want him inside, that much he can tell. It’s not like he ever finishes anywhere else, but the reminder doesn’t bother him. It only serves as a reassurance: that you still want this, want him. You haven’t changed your mind.

He sinks his teeth into your neck the instant he feels his orgasm tearing through him, hips stilling and sagging as a string of grunts abandons his being, dampening your skin even more. He loves to fill you up, it consumes him entirely.

Such an intimate, visceral act, and then he gets to see his seed trickling down your thighs. He realizes that he doesn’t need much to be happy.

You keep kissing him, his neck, his face. It may seem absurd to say that every kiss feels like the first, yet it’s true.

Even after he’s traced all the contours of your mouth and committed every detail of your body to memory, he can’t help but feel that same thrill of excitement he experienced months ago when he dared to push beyond the boundaries he had set for himself.

Staring at each other, naked, all the love in the world seems to fill these four walls. The compassion and tenderness in your gaze remain unchanged. You’re a dream come true.

It can’t end like this. He can’t allow you to drift back into sleep without saying what needs to be said. Something has to happen, something only he can conjure.

“I think…” He hesitates. Starting with I think carries an air of uncertainty. “I don’t—”

“Logan,” you interrupt, your hand finding his. “I know.”

Yes, you do. You always seem to know everything, but that can’t be enough. He can’t lean on your unspoken understanding of his feelings.

“You still deserve to hear it.”

“It’s not necessary.”

“It is.”

More silence. The moon is the solitary spectator of his upcoming declaration.

“You were right,” he begins, drawing your intertwined hands closer to his face, pressing a soft kiss on the back of yours. His voice drops to a murmur. It’s not just his body that feels completely exposed anymore; something deeper within him stands bare. “I’m in love with you.”

You scrutinize him as if he’s revealing the secret to eternal life. Again, you kiss his cheek, cupping it gently with your palm.

“It won’t get any better than this. There are no more layers to peel away, okay?” He offers explanations you never even asked for in the first place. “This is what I am.” Much to his dismay, you overlook his choice of words: what instead of who.

He glances away, his gaze landing on the dog tags resting against your skin. The same old guilt threatens to engulf him, as it does each time without fail, and that seems to be your cue to lower yourself to his eye level, eyebrows raised.

“I’m not with you because I’m waiting for you to change. I like you just as you are, Logan. And I want all of you, both the good and bad stuff.” A gentle smile breaks across your face as you stretch your arm to retrieve his glasses from the nightstand. Placing them on your nose, your eyes twinkle with contentment. “Do they look good on me?”

“You don’t need them yet.”

“That doesn’t mean I can’t pull them off.”

“Come here,” he mutters, sighing when you nuzzle his chest, cradling your head between his hands. He ponders what to say, what to do next, but no clear idea sounds promising.

And so it gives you the chance to speak up: “You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

I hope I don’t, he thinks to himself as he brushes your hair away from your face, fingers caressing your temples. I hope I never do.

dividers by: @/cafekitsune thank you!!! <3

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nicholasgoodgirl · 2 months ago

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that was mean- nicholas

summary: nicholas was having a bad week and gave you the silent treatment.

warning: argument, crying, happy ending

a/n: i couldn't stop thinking abt this no joke. so ofc i had to write it out

from late at night till he left early this morning for work nicholas has been either quiet rude or both.

we haven't spoken to eachother or not even silents acts of love. nothing.

he cut his alarm clock off and i tried to give him a hug before he got out the bed and he pushed me off of him "not right now" he grumbled and got out of bed

when he left for work i said 'bye' to maybe break the silence shared between us, but i got no response. it was starting to get lonely. i missed my bestfriend that was also my boyfriend

i had nobody to mess with or someone to talk to about my day.

to stop these lingering thoughts i go back to bed to maybe get my mind off of things.

i wake up around 8 am which was later than the time i usally woke up around, but today was sorta a lazy day.

it was gloomy not much sun was shining, it rained a little here and there. it was more of a slow day for me so the extra rest was very much needed

i text my boyfriend forgetting about the whole silent treatment ordeal.

me: how's your day going so far?? :)

and to no suprise i was left on delivered and soon left on seen. i messaged him periodically throught the day; hoping that maybe he would reply

it was almost time for dinner which normally nicholas cooks cause he's just better at it, but i didn't know when he was coming home or if he would even do it, so i look up some quick easy recipes and nothing struck my fancy but the pizza recipe. cause how hard could it really be?

i put a packet of yeast into my bowl along with some flour, water, oil, and salt. i let that sit for 30 minutes then im back to cooking again.

spreading flour onto the counter and placing the dough onto it; kneading it into a circle shape. this was harder than i thought

i look around for the marinara sauce and i put it into a different bowl and add a few light seasonings.

i paste that onto the dough, then i sprinkle some alot of cheese onto the pizza and my additional toppings bell peppers, spinach, and mushrooms.

i was so proud of myself especially sense i wasnt the cook, out of me and nicholas. i was really excited for him to try what i made but again i highly doubt he would even eat the food.

i put the pizza away into the oven completely forgetting to set a timer and put on a movie while i wait.

a smell of burning was the first thing that woke me up. "shit shit shit" i repeat totally freaking out remembering i left the pizza in the oven.

i get a rag and ineffectivley wave smoke out the air. when i open the oven it smelled horrible. i was coughing from all the smoke that had entered my lungs.

i take the burning pizza out and throw it into the sink, and hose it down with the water.

thats when i hear the front door open and mentally face palm. "what's that smell?" he asks "i kinda burnt a pizza that i tried to make"

"of course you did" he mutters sounding unimpressed. "and the fuck you mean 'kinda' you obviously did burn a damn pizza" he gestures to the chunk of charcoal burnt pizza

"it's not like i did it on purposes or something if thats what you think" my tone sounding a bit confronting.

"It's smells fucking horrible so open a damn window first off" he took a step closer raising his voice.

"you don't pay for shit so i don't understand why you almost had this place in flames secondly. then you also wanna blow up my phone while im working for crying out loud what do you want from me!" he yelled directly in my face

and im sure he knows by now i hate being yelled at. it's something my parents did and overall doesn't solve anything

i just take it, i didn't wanna fight so i go over to the nearest window and crack it open so the smoke clears.

my eyes watered from all the harsh words he could dish out but not the equal amount of attention "well.. you are- when i was.. ugh s'not my fault" i couldn't get a full sentence out. i felt so belittled in this moment

"im going to bed i don't have time for your stupid ass shit" those words hurt more than he thinks.

he had the most patience for me, always making time for us and now he doesnt.

"that's so mean.. you're being so mean" i wipe some tears that had fallen. i turned away from him silently crying.

the peices of my hair stuck to my tear-soaked cheeks. "wait- I'm sorry please don't cry" nicholas' voice was filled with regret.

i lazily push him away from me but he doesn't budge. his arms wrap around me bringing me into his familiar embrace. "I'm so sorry for being an asshole. I've been having a long shitty week and i know thats not an excuse so you don't even have to forgive me."

"you're everything to me. i swear i didn't mean it." he adds

the unforgettable cruel words he'd said to me earlier shoved ontop of his sweet loving words made me cry more.

i let him hold my trembling body as sobs tore through my chest, each inhale was ragged and uneven.

my hands clutched the material of his shirt "im so sorry sweetheart i never wanna make you cry" he explains in such a low voice, giving my hair strokes in attempt to calm me.

my face still burried into his neck tears now starting to dry away, and my breathing starting to even out. he carried me over to the couch and placed me in his lap

i was drained from all the crying, the tense feeling in my body beginning to melt away when i really started to feel nicholas' touch. my eyes drooped again this time staying shut for longer.

i was too tired to resist the sleep that had tooken over. and being cradled in his arms didn't help.

"I'll order pizza for the both of us alright?" he took me off of his lap and placed me on our couch. then lays one of our throw blankets ontop of me. "can we talk in the mornin'?" is the last thing i remember asking before dozing off.

a/n: can yall tell idk how to make pizza

#nicholas alexander chavez #nicholas chavez x reader #nicholas chavez #nicholas chavez fluff

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rafecameronssl4t · 1 month ago

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Missed me? || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader (love island au)

Summary: Rafe arrives at the villa as the newest bombshell 😝

Warnings: nothing rlly!!

Word count: 1,609

A/n: im so glad you guys are enjoying my love island au, put thru any requests you might have!

MASTERLIST (love island au masterlist)

divider by @h-aewo

"I'd rather that than-" Theo’s about to finish his sentence when his phone suddenly dings, snapping you both out of the moment. Your eyes widen in excitement as you sit up, and Theo’s face lights up. "I got a text!" he shouts, his voice carrying across the villa. Instantly, everyone around the pool and loungers lets out thrilled squeals, rushing over to where you and Theo are perched on the sunbed, eager to hear the news.

Theo holds up his phone dramatically, soaking up the attention, then reads aloud, “All islanders to the garden deck!” He pauses for effect, raising his brows as everyone hangs on his words. “Hashtag fun and games, hashtag don’t be scared.” His teasing smirk only fuels the buzz, and the whole group erupts with another round of happy cheers and squeals, all of you giddy at the idea of a game.

As the blindfold slips over your eyes, Theo’s fingers graze your cheeks, adjusting it gently. “Can you see anything?” he asks, a chuckle lacing his words. You can’t help but giggle, feeling the warmth of his hands as you hold onto his wrists for balance. “Nope,” you reply, playfully tugging his hands away.

Before you can say more, another familiar ding sounds from across the deck, and Leo clears his throat to read the message. “All boys to the balcony immediately,” he announces. A wave of gasps echoes among the girls, and you instinctively tense, butterflies fluttering as everyone tries to guess what this means. A bombshell, surely—it has to be.

“Girls, stay where you are with your blindfolds on,” Leo continues. Your jaw drops, excitement sparking as the tension in the air thickens. You can feel the guys shuffling around, some making teasing comments, others exchanging quick words. Suddenly, Theo’s hand is on your cheek, steadying you, and then his lips press against yours in a familiar, gentle kiss that makes your stomach flip.

“You better not enjoy it,” he murmurs against your lips, his tone carrying a playful but unmistakably serious edge. You let out a soft laugh, unable to help yourself. His hands linger for a second longer, and then you hear his footsteps retreat as he joins the other boys, leaving you and the other girls alone, blindfolded, and eagerly wondering who is about to walk in.

It takes only a few minutes before you hear the villa doors swing open, followed by the whispers of the boys on the balcony. Anticipation curls in your stomach as you wait, feeling every second drag out longer at the end of the line. The girls beside you giggle nervously, and you try to calm the growing thrill in your chest.

Suddenly, you hear the boys erupt in a chorus of surprised shouts, and confusion spikes—what could be causing such a reaction? Then, out of nowhere, a firm hand grips your chin, tilting your head up. Before you can even process what’s happening, warm, insistent lips press to yours in a kiss that is as bold as it is demanding.

The kiss catches you off guard, yet you find yourself instinctively leaning into it, feeling the urgency and heat of his touch. His hand tilts your jaw, deepening the kiss, while your fingers cling to his shirt for stability. The kiss is almost dizzying, and there’s something achingly familiar about it—the way his mouth moves over yours with a teasing, all-consuming intensity.

As he finally pulls away, his breath is warm against your ear. “Missed me?” The low, unmistakable voice sends a rush through you. Rafe. You let out a small, surprised laugh, giving him a playful shove, though your lips can’t help but lift in a smile. Rafe here? In the villa? As the new bombshell?

“What are you smiling for?” Theo’s voice cuts through the air from the balcony, irritation evident in his tone. Biting back a laugh, you hear Rafe’s deep, confident chuckle as he reaches up, pulling off your blindfold. Blinking in the bright sunlight, you see Rafe before you, grinning with a finger pressed to his lips, urging you to keep quiet.

Your eyes widen, the thrill of the situation hitting all at once. Without another word, he takes your hand, guiding you toward the steps with an air of cool confidence. Your gaze darts to the balcony, catching sight of Theo’s expressionless face, though the way his hands clenched at his sides told you he wasn't happy.

But before you can react, Rafe’s already leading you down the stairs. When you finally spot the villa door, it all clicks—you’re about to go on a date with him. Heart racing, you follow him outside, your head still spinning from the kiss and the whirlwind of it all.

“Your hair’s different,” you blurt out as soon as you both sit down, the words slipping out before you can filter them. Rafe chuckles, rubbing a hand over his freshly buzzed hair. “Yeah, wanted a change, y’know?” His gaze holds steady on you, and you feel the intensity as he takes in your features, studying you like he’s trying to remember every detail.

It’s surreal, sitting across from him after all this time. It’s been two years since you walked away from him, two years since you left the Outer Banks and everything that came with it. And now here he is, in Spain, on Love Island of all places. You try to shake off the memories and give him a warm, genuine smile. “So… how are you?” you ask, curious but careful.

Back then, Rafe had been drowning in a world of drugs and alcohol, and now you can’t help but wonder if the man in front of you has changed. His response is immediate, almost as if he’d anticipated the question. “I’m clean. If that was what you were wondering.” His tone is steady, but there’s an underlying edge, as if he’s been waiting for this chance to prove himself.

The swiftness of his answer catches you off guard, and he seems to notice, softening as he continues, “Since you left, I got my shit together. Took over Dad’s business. I’ve changed, Y/n.” His voice carries a sincerity that you can’t ignore, and for a moment, you see a different side of him—a version of Rafe who’s fought his own battles and come out the other side.

You reach across the table, your fingers brushing his as you give his hand a light, reassuring squeeze. “I’m glad to hear that, Rafe. Really.” His eyes drop to your hand, a flicker of something unspoken passing through his expression before you release him, pulling back. But he clears his throat, shifting slightly. “You’re with Theo?” he asks, his tone laced with curiosity as he leans back, watching your reaction.

You nod, meeting his gaze head-on. “Yeah? Didn’t seem like your type,” he says with a hint of his familiar teasing edge, though his eyes betray a flash of something deeper. You smirk, taking a sip of your drink. “Maybe my type changed when I moved to the city,” you tease, raising an eyebrow. His mouth quirks up, but before he can counter, you find yourself asking.

“Why me? You could’ve chosen any other girl to pull for a date—” “Because it’s you,” he cuts in, his voice soft but firm, like he’s been holding back those words for ages. The air shifts, and your lips part in surprise, your mind racing to come up with a response. But before you can, he leans in, his gaze piercing. “And because I’ve missed you.”

The sincerity in his voice leaves you momentarily speechless. Two years, miles apart, and yet here he is, still managing to unearth that old feeling buried deep inside. You don’t know what to say, the memories flooding back, bringing a rush of emotions you thought you’d left behind. “Give us another chance,” Rafe says, his voice filled with conviction as his eyes search yours.

You press your lips together, glancing down as a flood of emotions tugs you in different directions. A part of you wants to laugh at the absurdity of it all. After everything, after two years apart, he’s here in Spain asking for another chance. He looks different, sounds different, and maybe he’s changed, but the past still lingers, and you’re not sure you can trust him, or even yourself, to dive back in.

“Rafe…” you begin slowly, lifting your gaze to meet his. “I’m not going to lie—I’m skeptical. Things were messy between us before, and I don’t know if that’s something we can just… fix.” He nods, an understanding smile playing at his lips. “I get it. I don’t expect you to just jump back into this. I know I messed up. But I’ve worked on myself, and I want a chance to show you who I am now.”

You sigh, your fingers toying with the stem of your glass as you process his words. “I do see a difference in you… and I don’t want to just shut you out. Maybe we can give it another try, see if there’s still something here.” You bite your lip, feeling the flicker of hope you’re trying to keep under control.

“But I need you to know I’m not doing this lightly. If I’m going to open that door again, I need to be sure you’re all in.” Rafe’s expression softens, and he reaches across the table, his hand gently covering yours. “I’m all in. Whatever it takes. I just want a chance to make it right.” A small smile forms on your lips, and against all the doubts, you nod. “Okay, let’s try.”

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chosok-amo · 3 months ago

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spoiled little girlfriend : gojo satoru, geto suguru

gojo was lying on your shared bed, his long legs stretched out as he sifted through some paperwork. the soft glow from the bedside lamp illuminated his sharp features, making his white hair seem even brighter against the dark sheets. he was deeply focused, his brows slightly furrowed in concentration.

you walked into the bedroom, eyes glued to your phone as you scrolled through a message or maybe a funny video that caught your attention. you didn't even notice how the soft tapping of your footsteps caught gojo's attention. he looked up from his papers, a faint smile playing on his lips as he watched you.

“baby,” you called out casually, still focused on your phone. your voice was sweet, but there was a hint of playfulness in it, like you were about to ask him for something or share a joke.

as you spoke, the sound of running water in the bathroom stopped. geto, freshly showered, stepped out with a towel draped casually around his neck. his wet hair clung to his forehead, droplets of water sliding down his neck and bare chest. he looked relaxed, his eyes warm and soft as he caught sight of you and gojo.

“yes, love?” gojo asked, his voice laced with curiosity as he watched you, his paperwork momentarily forgotten. he shifted slightly on the bed, making space for you to join him.

you bent down to the bed with your feet still touching the wooden floor. your elbows prop against the soft material while your eyes are still focusing on your phone, finger softly scroll through the screen.

“cartier just released a new necklace, look,” you said and show gojo your phone screen. gojo's eyes flick from your face to your phone, his gaze lingering on the expensive piece of jewelry displayed on the screen. his lips curl into a slight smirk as he notices your interest in the accessory, a hint of mischief in his eyes.

“looks very pretty, baby,” he replied, his voice carrying a touch of teasing, “you want me to buy it for you?” he casually set his paperwork aside, his full attention now on you and the necklace you were showing him.

you smiled brightly, your eyes lighting up with excitement as you nodded eagerly. “yes, please,” you replied, your voice soft but full of anticipation.

gojo chuckled, enjoying the eager look in your eyes as you nodded. he knew you had a penchant for pretty trinkets, and he'd often indulged you whenever you had your eye on something.

“of course, darling. anything for you,” he said, his own smile broadening at your excitement. geto, who had been silently watching the exchange from the bathroom door, raised an eyebrow in amusement. he couldn't help but chime in from the side, a teasing tone in his voice. “you're so whipped,” he remarked with a smirk.

gojo glanced at geto, his grin turning into a playful smirk. “i'm working my ass off and have all this money for what if not to spoil my girlfriend?” he replied, his tone half-serious, half-teasing.

he leaned back against the pillows, folding his arms behind his head, looking completely satisfied with himself. “besides,” he added, throwing a fond smile your way while you already engrossed by your phone, “seeing her smile like that is worth every penny.”

geto chuckled as he wiped his wet hair with the towel around his broad shoulders. he leaned against the door frame and crossed his arms over his chest, his gaze going from gojo to you before settling back on the white-haired man.

“looks like our little darling has you wrapped around her little finger,” he teased, the corner of his mouth twitching with a hint of laughter. gojo smirked back at him but didn't deny it. instead, he turned his attention back to you, his eyes warm and affectionate as he regarded you.

your focus had already shifted back to your phone as they talked, completely absorbed in the world of sparkling jewels and elegant designs. the soft glow from the screen illuminated your face, and they could see the twinkle in your eyes, like twin stars, as you scrolled through the jewelry catalog.

you were in your own world, mesmerized by the shiny things, barely registering the playful exchange between gojo and geto. a small, contented smile played on your lips as you admired each piece, your excitement palpable even in your silence.

both gojo and geto chuckled at the sight of your absorption in the jewelry catalog, finding your innocent fascination as endearing as it was amusing. gojo's smirk softened into a fond smile as he observed your reaction, watching as you became immersed in the luxurious items that filled the screen.

“look at her,” geto murmured to gojo, his voice betraying his own amusement, “always lost in the world of pretty things.”

their gazes softening as they observed your captivated expression. it was endearing how easily you got distracted by material possessions, yet they couldn't deny the genuine joy it seemed to bring to you.

geto pushed off from the door frame and walked over to the bed, his footsteps soft and silent. he sat down on the edge of the bed next to you, his towel still hanging around his neck. he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

gojo spoke up, his voice smooth and laced with affection. “honey, you're gonna burn a hole through that screen the way you're staring at it.”

as geto sat down next to you, you barely noticed, still engrossed in the jewelry catalogue. gojo's words finally drew your attention back to the room, and you looked up at him, a small pout forming on your lips.

“i can't help it,” you said defensively. “they're so pretty,” you added, your eyes wandering back to your phone screen. geto chuckled softly and reached over, his hand gently taking the phone from yours. his touch was warm and light, yet firm enough to pull your focus away.

you softly protested, “hey...” your eyes followed as geto held your phone, a pout forming on your lips. “it was getting good,” you mumbled, a hint of frustration in your voice as you watched him take the phone away. your gaze lingered on the screen, clearly longing to go back to admiring the jewelry, but geto's gentle but firm hold kept you from diving back into your shiny distraction.

“i know, sweetheart, but you've been glued to that screen for so long,” geto said, his voice gentle yet authoritative. he set your phone down on the bedside table, making sure it was well-out of your reach.

gojo chuckled, enjoying the little display of rebellion in your pout and the stubbornness in your eyes. “don't worry,” he teased, “we'll make sure you get all the shiny pretty things you want.”

you opened your mouth to protest, but gojo's words took the wind out of your sails. the idea of getting all the jewelry you wanted was too tempting to resist. your pout slowly faded, replaced by a curious expression.

“all of them?” you asked, your voice soft and timid, your gaze shifted to them, a hint of skepticism in your eyes. geto smiled, a knowing smirk playing on the corner of his lips. “of course,” he reassures, “whatever your heart desires.”

you tried to hold back your smile, sucking it in for a brief moment, but the excitement was too much to contain. your eyes lit up as you finally let your smile break free, beaming brightly. “okay,” you agreed, your voice filled with happiness, the idea of getting everything you wanted making you giddy with excitement.

gojo and geto exchanged a glance, their own smiles mirroring your happiness. they loved how easy it was to make you happy. gojo chuckled, a glimmer of mischief in his eyes. “you're practically vibrating with excitement,” he teased, his hand reached out to ruffle your hair.

geto leaned in slightly, his tone serious but filled with fondness, “we'll give you everything you want, my sweetheart.”

your smile grew even wider in their words, warmth flooding your chest as you looked between them. “i’m going to wear the necklace for our anniversary,” you declared, your voice filled with excitement and affection. the thought of showing off something they got for you on such a special day made your heart flutter.

you glanced back at the phone on the bedside table, your mind already imagining how perfect it would look with your outfit. “it’s going to be perfect,” you added, your eyes shining as you thought about the upcoming celebration with them.

gojo and geto exchanged a knowing look, smiles tugging at the corners of their lips as they took in your excitement. gojo leaned back against the pillows, his eyes warm and adoring as he watched you.

“you'll look absolutely beautiful,” he said, his voice soft and affectionate, “we can't wait to see you wear it.” geto added, his own smile growing wider, “it'll be the perfect accessory to match your gorgeous dress that we'll be buying you for the occasion.”

you felt a warm flutter in your chest as gojo gently tugged on your arm, guiding you to climb onto the bed. with a soft smile, you nestled between them, the familiar comfort of being surrounded by their warmth putting you at ease. as you settled in, geto reached for your phone on the bedside table and handed it back to you, his fingers brushing lightly against yours.

“let’s find you another jewels,” geto suggested, his voice low and filled with affection as he encouraged you to continue your search. with both of them beside you, their attention fully on you, the moment felt perfect. your excitement renewed, you eagerly returned to the jewelry catalog, ready to pick out the next piece with their help.

gojo wrapped his arm around your shoulders, pulled you closer against him. his warmth emanated from his body, and you could feel it seeping into yours, while geto leaned over your shoulder, his chin resting lightly on it as he looked at the screen with you.

as you scroll through the jewelry catalog, they both chimed in, suggesting pieces here and there, offering opinions, and throwing in playful comments. every time you paused on something you liked, they made sure to remind you that they would get it for you.

#geto suguru x reader #gojo satoru x reader #geto x reader #gojo x reader #gojo fluff #jjk x reader #geto fluff #satoru x reader #suguru x reader #gojo satoru #geto suguru #satosugu fluff #satosugu #satosugu x reader

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pure-smut · 4 months ago

Text

sunshine.

featuring: Hinata Shoyo x f!reader

contains: timeskip!Hinata, best friends to lovers, unprotected s*x, creampie, slight overstimulation at the end

word count: 2.4k

note: all characters are aged up to 18+!

MDNI | 18+ content

Masterlist

a/n: if anyone knows the artist for the cover picture, I searched everywhere and couldn't find them!! Pls and ty in advance <3

When Hinata Shoyo left for Brazil, it was like an eclipse over your life.

You’re best friends so you still talk almost every day, whether it’s quick messages squeezed into busy days or a video call right as one of you wakes up and the other one is about to sleep. But Hinata was the sunshine in your life - a bright, burning ball of energy that powered your days. When he left, everything went a little bit gloomier.

You’re busy yourself with college – meeting new people, keeping up with classes, and making time to catch up with everyone from Karasuno. Still, it feels like a candle trying to compete with the sun.

So when you show up at a house party, not really feeling up for it but wanting to see your old classmates again, you stop dead in the doorway.

Sitting on the sofa, surrounded by everyone you know, you see shock of orange hair and hear a familiar laugh. Your mouth falls open.

“Sho…?”

Hinata turns at the sound of your voice, a broad smile breaking out on his face. The moon slides to the side, the sun shining again. Your heart thunders in your ears.

“Y/n!” he calls out, leaping up and sprinting over to you.

You’re still in shock when he scoops you up into a hug, squeezing you tight.

“You’re here?” is all you can say.

Hinata doesn’t stop hugging you but you hear him laugh, vibrating through his chest.

“I wanted it to be a surprise.” He pulls back to grin at you, brown eyes alight. “Are you surprised?”

You huff out laughter, your shock subsiding, and wrap your arms around his neck for another hug.

“It’s a great surprise,” you say, smiling hard.

It’s only when you put your arms around him that you realise how big he’s gotten. He’s a few inches taller than before and he’s broader than you remember, his shoulders hard as rocks. When you pull away from the hug, you hope he doesn’t notice the blush dusting your cheeks.

You both make your way into the party to a chorus of greetings from your old classmates. Hinata sits back down on the sofa but you linger, realising all the seats are taken.

“Um…”

“Sit here, y/n,” Hinata says, patting his thigh.

You don’t know why the idea makes you blush so hard – you and Hinata were always physically close, not afraid to hug or touch. Maybe it's because it's been years since you saw him in person. Maybe it's because...

You search his face for any sign he feels as flustered as you but he’s wearing an easy smile, his head cocked to the side as he waits for you to reply.

“S-sure,” you stammer out.

As soon as you slide onto Hinata’s lap, his arm snakes around your waist, resting his hand on your hip. His thighs are solid beneath you, as built as the rest of him. You obviously knew he trained hard in Brazil but you didn’t realise just how much he’s changed. You chance a glance at him, wondering if anything else has changed.

Hinata catches your eye.

“You okay?” he asks, flashing you a smile. “Comfy?”

Confidence. Hinata hasn’t only gained muscle in Brazil – the awkward teenage boy you knew has been replaced with a man. A man who flirts with his best friend, who invites you to sit on his lap with ease.

You wonder if he’s flirting because it’s you or because it’s his personality now. You’re not sure.

You’ve been quiet for too long because Hinata’s smile starts to drop. His eyebrows furrow.

“Seriously, you okay?” He lowers his voice, leaning in closer. “You don’t need to sit here if you don’t want.”

You shake your head.

“No, it’s fine. Sorry, I was just…” You give him a sheepish smile. “I was thinking, you’ve changed a lot.”

“I have?” Hinata looks genuinely confused before his expression clears. “Oh! Yeah, I grew like three inches!”

He grins wide and you smother your laughter.

“I mean, yeah, that,” you say. “But you’re like… bigger.”

You get the first glimpse of the Hinata you used to know as his cheeks tint pink. He rubs the back of his neck bashfully and you’re treated to his bicep bulging with the movement.

“Heh, yeah, I guess so.” His eyes swivel to yours. “You’ve changed too.”

This catches you off guard. You glance down at yourself before looking back up at him.

“Me?”

“Yeah. It’s like you get prettier every year.”

Your cheeks go hot. Hinata holds your gaze and you get a familiar feeling in your stomach, something you haven’t felt since he left. Intense, like you’re looking directly at the sun. Your skin prickles and you feel light-headed, like you’ve been sunbathing too long. It’s the effect Hinata has on you, that he’s always had on you.

Your sunshine.

Hinata’s hand tightens on your hip, not looking away. There’s something taut between you that thrums with electricity. You know there’s a party full of people around you but everything around Hinata has fallen into darkness. He’s the burning ball of fire in front of you, blocking out all else.

“I really want to kiss you,” he confesses, voice low and thick. “But I want to do it somewhere better. You deserve somewhere better.”

Your throat feels suddenly dry. You open your mouth to say something but your voice sticks. You give a small nod instead, not able to tear your eyes away from his.

“Let me take you out tomorrow,” Hinata says. “Please?”

You lick your lips to wet them and Hinata eyes dart down before flicking back up.

“Yeah,” you manage to croak out. “I’d really like that.”

Hinata grins like he’s just won a volleyball game, his ears pink. You both return to the chatter of the party but you feel Hinata’s thumb tracing circles on your hip, his hand on you the entire night.

You spend the entire next day trying on clothes and throwing them to the floor. Hinata had told you to dress nice and be ready for 7pm but he insisted on keeping the rest a secret. The closer that 7pm gets, the more frantic you are.

Eventually, you settle on a short black dress, showing just enough leg and cleavage without looking like you’re about to hit up a club. You’re finishing the last of your make-up as the doorbell goes. 7pm on the dot.

You open the door to see Hinata grinning, holding a bouquet of your favourite flowers, and your heart melts. He’s wearing a fitted emerald green shirt, tight across his chest and arms, in contrast to the fiery orange of his hair. If you hadn’t noticed the change in him before, you wouldn’t be able to ignore it now.

But Hinata’s smile falters as he sees you. He blinks once, twice, his mouth dropping open. His eyes trail down your body as his ears turn hot pink.

“Holy shit,” he exclaims.

It’s your turn to blush under the intensity of Hinata’s gaze. You gesture for him to come inside and he does as you close the door behind him. You barely have time to turn around before Hinata closes the space between you, forcing you to press your back against the door.

Hinata scoops his hand under your jaw, tilting your face up to his. You can feel the heat radiating off him as he dips his head, his other hand finding your waist. When he kisses you, he feels like molten fire.

Hinata’s lips are soft but his grip on your jaw is firm, only a fraction of his strength. You clutch at the hard muscles of his back, anchoring yourself to him. When his lips part yours to deepen the kiss, you give no resistance. His tongue meets your own as you moan into his mouth, melting under his touch. Hinata’s body responds, his cock hardening until you can feel it pressed against your lower stomach.

When he pulls away, you’re both breathless.

“I’m sorry.” He presses his forehead against yours. “I had a whole plan but when I saw you…”

Hinata tightens his grip on you, his fingers tangling in your hair as he cradles the back of your skull.

“I couldn’t help myself,” he finishes, shaking his head. “I wanted it to be perfect for you.”

“It was perfect,” you tell him and it’s the truth.

You’re almost dizzy and your skin feels like it’s on fire. You’ve always missed your best friend but now you crave him. Your hands run up his back as you reach up to kiss him again.

“Fuck…” he mumbles against your mouth. “I don’t wanna stop.”

“Then let’s not stop,” you say, kissing across his jaw.

“The reservation…” Hinata’s hips grind against yours on instinct as your lips reach his neck. “Our – ah – date…”

He groans as you lick across his windpipe, his bulge now apparent as he continues to grind it against you, his body moving of its own accord.

“I waited so long to show you…” He sounds so upset with himself.

“Sho.” You take his face in your hands, looking at him. His eyes are half-lidded and glazed over. “All I want is you. I don’t need anything else.”

Hinata’s face softens. He leans forward to bury his face in your neck.

“I missed you so much,” he says, voice muffled. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

You reach around to run your fingers through his vibrant hair, feeling him shudder with pleasure under your touch.

“Show me,” you whisper.

Hinata’s resolve crumbles. He’s spent so long taming his impulsive side, the part of him that moves without thinking, without regard for consequences. But now you’re in front of him, asking him to take you, and the rest of the world goes white.

He dips his head to kiss you again, this time with intent. His hands grab at you, fingers digging into your flesh as he presses you flush to him, trapping you between his body and the door.

As his tongue laps into your mouth, he reaches down to grab your thigh, holding it up and forcing your dress to ride up over your hips. His bulge grinds against your clothed pussy, the friction making your clit throb with need. You tilt your head back and sigh as Hinata trails wet kisses down your neck.

With two layers of fabric between you, you start to whine, needing more. Hinata’s spent years wondering what you sound like, imagining the noises he could get you to make, but nothing compares to hearing you for the first time.

His movements are frantic, hooking his fingers over the hem of your panties before tugging them down. They’re not even fully off, still dangling around your ankle when Hinata unzips his jeans, pushing them down just enough for his cock to spring free.

Now it’s happening – now it’s finally happening – he can’t hold back. He grabs your ass with both hands, lifting you until you can feel his fat tip pressing against your hole.

“Are you okay?” he breathes. His cheeks are flushed pink, his lips red and swollen. “Are you ready?”

“I’m ready, Sho. I need you.”

Hinata presses you against the door as he pushes himself inside. He doesn’t want to go too fast, doesn’t want to hurt you, but as soon as he feels your walls around him, he can’t help himself. He pumps in and out of you shallowly, desperate for more friction from your heavenly pussy without going too deep too fast.

“Ah!” you gasp as he penetrates your needy hole, the ridges around his mushroom tip stimulating your nerves in a way that makes your thighs quiver.

You wrap your legs around him, encouraging him deeper. Hinata is more than happy to oblige, his fingers digging into the flesh of your ass as he sinks his cock further inside you. You grip the hard muscles of his shoulders, feeling him reach the sensitive spot inside you.

When you open your eyes, you see Hinata watching your face intently, a notch between his brows. His eyes have done dark, that same intense look in his face when he’s locked onto something. Or someone.

Hinata’s cock slides back and forth over the sensitive bundle of nerves inside you and you know it’s pushing you close to the edge.

“T-there, Sho…” you whimper. “Right there, fuck-!”

Your voice is so sweet, so high with lust and need. Hinata picks up his speed, fucking you so hard the door rattles behind you. You didn’t know he had this in him, this feral side, but you’re more than happy to be on the other end of it. Your cunt is drooling over his cock, only making it easier for him to fuck you as hard as he wants.

“Sho, I’m… I’m gonna…”

You dig your nails into his shoulders, your toes curling as he brings you to orgasm.

Your plush, slick walls massage his cock, quivering around him as you cum. Hinata’s stroked himself to the thought of you before - many times - but nothing comes close to this. His fist can’t compare to the way you milk his cock, so hot and tight. But it’s your face that Hinata can’t stop watching.

The way your lips part, your features contorting in pleasure, your eyes glazed over with lust. Hinata knew when he left for Brazil that he loved you. He didn’t think he could fall any further. Until now.

“You’re so beautiful,” he groans, his cock throbbing, knowing he’s close. “You’re so fucking beautiful.”

Even as he cums, Hinata can’t stop fucking you. He unleashes thick ropes of cum inside you, still pumping in and out, a flurry of curses falling from his lips. The mix of your fluids is indescribable, the noise of your sloppy cunt only spurring him on. He keeps going until he can’t cum anymore, until it’s almost painful. Only then does he pull out, a flood of his cum following, running down your thigh.

“Holy shit,” Hinata gasps, releasing his grip on you so you can stand.

When your legs quake, he wraps an arm around your waist, holding you up.

“Fuck, Sho…” you huff out laughter.

“Yeah,” he chuckles, running a hand over his face. “Fuck.”

Hinata glances down at where your dress is stained with his cum and winces.

“Shit, I’m sorry. Here, let me clean you up. Where’s the bathroom? I’ll run you a bath.”

“Slow down,” you laugh. “Let me look at you a second, okay?”

You reach up to cup his face and he rests his hand on yours, turning to kiss your palm, his eyes never leaving yours.

“Let’s make up for lost time, hm?” you say with a smile and Hinata looks at you like you’re made of sunshine.

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#haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader #haikyu smut #haikyu x reader #hinata shoyo smut #hinata shoyo x reader #hinata shoyo x you #hinata shoyo x y/n #hinata shouyou x reader #hinata shouyou x you #hinata shouyou x y/n #hinata souyou smut

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briefinquiries · 4 months ago

Text

Tyler Owens x Reader: Say Don't Go

Request: Anonymous asked: “I think your writing is one of the best on here for Tyler <3 i’d love to read your take on the reader sticking out a big tornado with Tyler, i guess similar to the rodeo scene in the movie with Kate but i’d like to read your own take on him just comforting the reader and making sure they get through it <3”

Word count: 3.7k

Warnings: Blood & injury mention, tornado, hurt / comfort

A/N: thank you so so much for the kind words :((( absolutely loving these requests & all of the comments / replies to my recent tyler fics. please keep them coming!!

“You could’ve stayed home if you didn’t want to come,” you said to Tyler frustratedly.

“It’s not that I didn’t want to come,” he replied, trailing behind you as you ventured into another store. “I just didn’t realize that picking up a birthday gift was going to entail being at the mall ‘til sun down.”

“I told you I didn’t have anything picked out and that I’d probably have to look around–” you reminded him, stopping in your tracks so that you could turn to face him.

Tyler put his hands up in surrender. “I know, I know. I’m sorry, I’ll shut up.”

As soon as he backed down, your gaze immediately softened. “Well I don’t want you to be miserable,” you said as you crossed your arms.

The corner of Tyler’s lip tugged upward in a cheeky grin. “Now how could I ever be miserable when I’m spendin’ time with you?”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help the smile that crept across your face. “Yeah, whatever,” you said with a smirk. “Why don’t you head to the food court? Once I finish up, I’ll come find you.”

He tilted his head to the side, like a puppy looking for permission. “You sure?”

You nodded, adjusting the bag slung over your shoulder. “Yeah, of course. Just, don’t get ice cream without me,” you warned.

Tyler took a step forward so that you were now only inches apart. You felt his hand rest on the small of your back before he pulled you closer and leaned forward. The second that you felt his lips press against yours in a soft, gentle kiss, all of the annoyance and frustration you’d previously felt melted away in the blink of an eye. Even though you and Tyler had been together for nearly two years now, he still had that kind of effect on you.

When he stepped away, a smile lingered on his lips.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he assured you.

You kept your eyes trained on the back of his head as he made his way from the store, because the truth was– even when he pissed you off, you loved him more than you’d ever loved anything.

Only when he was out of sight did you finally turn and resume your search. As much as you loved spending time with Tyler, you had to admit it was easier to shop around without him constantly moaning and groaning the entire time.

You settled into the silence, taking your time as you made your way through the store. After inspecting all of the assorted knick knacks and smelling nearly every candle in the place, you finally settled on a necklace for your mom’s upcoming birthday.

Once you’d paid, you tucked the jewelry box inside your bag and began making your way out of the store, planning to head straight for the food court to find Tyler.

Except the second you stepped out of the store, you nearly jumped out of your skin at the loud sound of cracking thunder above. It was close– enough so the building trembled. You watched as other shoppers stopped in their tracks too.

And then, to your absolute dismay, you heard the emergency alert systems on everyone’s phones start going off in unison.

You pulled yours out of your pocket and read the message flashing across your screen.

National Weather Service: TORNADO WARNING in this area until 8:30 PM CDT. Take shelter now in a basement or an interior room on the lowest floor of a sturdy building. If you are outdoors, in a mobile home, or in a vehicle, move to the closest substantial shelter and protect yourself from flying debris. Check media for more information.

You swallowed thickly before glancing up from your phone. Gradually, others began doing the same. Then, as soon as everyone had read the warning and realized what was going on, panic ensued.

People began running in all directions– pushing others aside and rushing towards exits. You tried your best to remain calm, but you couldn’t ignore the fear spreading through you.

Instantly, your eyes began scanning the crowd as you instinctively began looking for Tyler.

He’ll come for you, you thought. Tyler will come.

But that didn’t mean you couldn’t meet him halfway. You tried to keep close to the wall to prevent being crushed in the crowd– unfortunately for you though, other people had the same idea. As hard as you tried to keep to the side, soon, you were sucked right into the mass of people. The only thing you could do was move with them and try desperately to stay on your feet as everyone pushed and shoved their way around you.

Eventually, you dared to careen your neck up and scan for him. At first, all you saw was chaos– but people all seemed to be moving in the same direction now. You watched as parents picked up their children and spouses grabbed each other’s hands. Employees ran out of stores and customers dropped bags.

It took a few minutes, but eventually, you spotted a familiar tuft of sandy brown hair– the only person in eyesight moving against the crowd.

“Tyler!” you screamed.

He reacted to your voice, his head turning in the direction he thought it was coming from.

“Tyler!” you yelled again.

This time, his eyes landed right on yours.

But before you could even sigh the breath of relief that was sitting in your chest, you felt something, or rather someone jab into your side. The force was enough to make you stumble on your feet and fall to the ground with a thud. People continued rushing by– feet stepping on you, knees colliding into your back. At one point, you tried to place your hand on the floor to give yourself enough leverage to stand up, but as soon as you did, a white converse stomped right on your fingers, causing you to hiss out in pain.

Panic began creeping up your throat– making it harder to breathe, let alone think of a plan. A dark cloud began clouding your vision, numbing your senses to what was happening around you. Until suddenly, you heard your name being called. The sound broke through the haze. Before you could react, you felt two hands sliding underneath your armpits from behind. And suddenly, you were being hoisted up from the ground.

“I got you,” Tyler’s voice said in your ear. You didn’t even get a chance to turn and look at him before he was pushing you forward. “We gotta move.”

Thankfully, his grip under your arms never faltered, otherwise you were sure you wouldn’t have been able to keep up. But eventually, Tyler pushed you towards the outer edge of the busy mall hallway. Once you were no longer in danger of being flattened by the crowd, he spun you around– hands clutching your shoulders tightly while he blocked the remaining traffic from reaching you.

“Are you hurt?”

You shook your head. At least you didn’t think you were… But when you glanced down at yourself, you quickly realized why Tyler even asked. Your button down shirt was ripped– presumably from being grabbed, and the tank top beneath it had a few spots of blood splattered across the fabric. You weren’t even sure where it came from.

“We gotta go,” Tyler said urgently.

“The shelter–” you began, but Tyler shook his head.

“Everyone’s heading that way, it’ll be full by now. Plus, we don’t have time– I looked outside and… it’s close.”

“What do we do?” you asked, voice trembling with fear.

Tyler let his arms fall from your shoulders and instead grabbed onto one of your hands. He gave it a reassuring squeeze before nodding in the opposite direction of where everyone else was running.

“The stairwell,” he said.

You nodded shakily. “Okay.”

With that, Tyler was off– weaving his way in and out of the crowd. Luckily, it had thinned out dramatically– most people heading towards the parking lot or the storm shelter on the other side of the mall. Once you broke away from the thickest part of the crowd, Tyler’s grip loosened slightly on your hand.

“C’mon,” he urged, leading you around the corner. At the very end of the hallway was the door that led to the stairwell.

But you only made it a few feet down the hallway before you felt the floor shake beneath your feet. Only moments after, there was a loud bang just as a chunk of the roof was being ripped off the building.

“Tyler–” you yelled.

“Keep going,” he pleaded.

With part of the roof separated, you could hear the winds whipping outside more clearly. The sound was deafening, like a freight train barrelling right for you.

But even above the raging winds– you heard the cries of someone nearby. You looked to your left to see a mother and her child huddled underneath a display booth.

“Tyler,” you said again, tugging on his arm.

He slowed down, turning towards where your eyes were fixated. He hesitated, clearly conflicted on what to do.

“We have to help them,” you said.

His eyes scanned yours desperately before he nodded. “Wait here,” he said, releasing your hand.

You watched as Tyler crossed the hall– trying to avoid the debris now falling from the roof. He called something out to the woman, but you couldn’t hear above the sound of the wind. It was enough to catch her attention though, because soon she was passing her son to Tyler. The poor boy couldn’t have been older than five or six. Tyler pulled him to his side with ease before reaching his other arm out and helping the mother up from underneath the table.

Once she was on her feet, Tyler passed her back her son and pointed towards where you stood against the wall. She tucked her son’s head against her chest and began hurrying forward– Tyler at her heels as they fought against the increasing winds.

“Take my hand,” you yelled. With the arm she wasn’t using to support her son, she reached for you.

You grasped onto her and helped pull her against the wall.

“Go to the stairwell,” you explained. “Get underneath them, as low as you can.”

She nodded, unshed tears glistening in her eyes before she began heading down the hall.

Just then, you heard a deafening crack. You turned to see another piece of the roof being pulled off– causing large chunks of debris to begin falling.

“Get down!” you heard Tyler holler. Using your arm, you shielded your head the best you could and shrank to the floor as the largest piece fell. A cloud of dust enveloped you as soon as it landed and you felt small pieces of debris bouncing against your skin– After a brief moment, you dared to look up.

But Tyler was no longer standing in front of you.

“Tyler!” you screamed. Without thinking, you moved forward, trying your best to stay low. But despite your best efforts, you were still caught off guard by the piece of metal that blew past your head, slicing open your skin– “Fuck!” you yelled, grabbing at your temple. When you pulled your hand away, your fingers were coated in a thick, crimson liquid.

“Tyler!” you yelled again, voice growing increasingly frantic.

“I’m here–” you heard him yell back, causing your shoulders to deflate slightly. As you crawled around the largest pile of debris, you saw him on the ground, moving a chunk of roofing off his foot. His eyes met yours, a flash of concern crossing his face when he saw your head. “You gotta get to the stairs–”

“No, no, no. Not without you,” you shook your head, continuing to move towards him as you felt the blood trickle down the side of your face.

“The storm’s here– you gotta go. You gotta take cover,” he pleaded.

“I’m not leaving you–” you cried, unable to control the tears burning behind your eyes. As they fell down your cheek, they mixed with the blood from your temple. Once you were crouched beside him, you used what little strength you had left to Tyler’s hand and pull him from the small pile of rubble.

When you looked at the short distance between yourselves and the staircase door– you were surprised to see the woman, propping it open with her body and waving towards the two of you to hurry up.

“Move–” Tyler encouraged, pushing you against the wind. “Go, go, go–”

You army-crawled forward, wincing as more debris nicked your skin. But finally– you reached the door. Tyler moved his hand to your waist and guided you towards the staircase.

The woman reached for her son, who was crouched low in the corner. Meanwhile, Tyler moved you towards one of the railings.

“Hold on to this–” he instructed. You wound your arms around the fixture.

"Don't go–" you begged.

But immediately after, you felt the warmth from his body wrap around you. You looked up and saw Tyler shielding your body with his own– his hands gripping the part of the railing just above yours.

“I got you,” he promised. “We’re gonna be okay, I got you,” he repeated. But soon his voice was swept away by the sound of the storm.

The winds grew even louder as the tornado moved closer– the noise of various chunks of debris slamming into the ground around you made you shake. You squeezed your eyes shut– hoping and praying to whatever God might be out there that Tyler was right and you’d both be okay…

You weren’t sure how long the storm raged on. It felt like hours, although you knew that couldn't be right. Eventually though, the winds died down. In their absence, you could hear the sound of the woman comforting her son, along with Tyler’s labored breathing above you.

With a shaky hand, you reached behind you– like you didn’t quite trust that he was still there. You felt the fabric of his jeans beneath your palm and sighed out the choppy breath that had been lodged in your throat.

“Tyler,” you heaved pathetically, voice cracking.

“I’m here,” he gasped, voice equally shaky as he gasped for air. “I got you.”

Nodding, you brushed your hair from your sweaty face and felt Tyler shift. Following his lead, you turned towards him. As soon as your eyes landed on him– hunched over and breathing like he’d just run five miles, you let out a choked sob.

“Are you okay?” he panted.

“Tyler–” was all you could manage to blurt out.

A calloused hand cupped your face– thumb trailing along your hairline. You winced when his thumb passed over a sensitive spot on your head from where you’d been hit earlier. “You’re okay,” he soothed. “We’ll get it checked out.”

You nodded, leaning into his touch as you desperately craved comfort from him. Seemingly picking up on your need, he wrapped his arm around your shoulders and tugged you into his chest. “We’re okay,” he repeated, hand moving to cup the back of your neck. You let your eyes fall shut– inhaling the scent of his T-shirt. Even though he was coated in sweat and dust, he still smelled so comforting and familiar.

He planted a kiss on top of your head before panting, “We gotta get out of here.”

You nodded, and forced yourself to pull away from him. Tyler helped you to your feet, eyes studying to make sure you were steady before he turned towards the woman.

“You guys okay?” he asked.

She nodded, clutching tightly to her son, who was still in her arms.

“Alright, c’mon– be careful where you step,” he said, helping them out from the staircase. Tyler led them past you and into the hall before coming back for you.

You desperately tried to steady your shaking legs. You were wobbly on your feet, but with Tyler’s help, you managed to maneuver your way out from underneath the staircase.

As soon as you were back in the hall, your breath caught in your throat at the sight. The entire mall was destroyed– the roof had caved in, creating mounds of rubble everywhere you looked. There was dust all over– and no one else in sight.

“Tyler–” you croaked again. His name seemed to be the only words you were able to form in your shock.

“C’mon,” he urged gently, pulling you along.

You let him lead the way, eyes scanning the debris hopelessly. You stopped in your tracks the moment you saw the first body– it was a woman, probably in her late twenties, just like you. She had a mound of tile stacked on top of her and a trail of blood soaking through her yellow sweater. Her eyes were still open– like they were frozen in fear.

“Don’t look,” Tyler’s voice cut through the fog.

He put his body between you and her and placed his hands on both sides of your face, forcing your gaze to meet his.

“Sh– she’s dead,” you trembled.

Tyler nodded solemnly. “I know,” he nodded. “Don’t look, okay? Just keep your eyes on me.”

Tyler wound his arm around your shoulders and tugged you into his side. With his fingers digging into the fleshy part of your hip, he led you forward, bearing the majority of your weight. Eventually, he managed to lead you all out of the rubble of the mall.

“You sure you’re okay?” Tyler turned and asked the woman again. She nodded before thanking him and heading off in the direction of an ambulance.

Tyler seemed to have something similar in mind.

“I want to go home,” you insisted.

But Tyler shook his head. “You need to get your head checked out first.”

“Tyler, please–” you whimpered.

He glanced down at you– seemingly noticing the way your voice cracked. His face softened the moment he saw the tears sliding down your cheeks.

“Hey–” he said gently. “Baby, you’re okay. Everything’s going to be okay.”

“I just want to go home,” you repeated.

“I know, baby. I know,” he soothed. “But your head– I really want them to take a look. Then we can go home.”

You sunk your teeth into your lower lip. After a moment, you nodded defeatedly and let Tyler lead you the rest of the way to one of the many ambulances parked near what was left of the mall.

The paramedic who got to you first was a middle aged man with a kind smile. He told you how brave you were as he shined a flashlight in your eyes, checking your pupils.

When he moved to the wound on your temple, now coating your entire hairline in gooey blood, you grimaced.

“This is gonna need a few stitches,” he said after inspecting it.

Tyler sat beside you and let you squeeze his hand as tightly as you needed while the paramedic stitched you up. He applied a local anesthetic but you felt every second of the needle threading through your skin.

You held onto Tyler like your life depended on it, trying to allow his words of affirmation and comfort to consume you.

“Almost done,” the paramedic said before clipping the remainder of the thread. He placed a clean bandage on the side of your head and offered you a soft smile. “You did great,” he told you.

Although you were feeling detached from just about everything right now, you nodded in response before letting Tyler pull you to your feet.

“Think you can walk?” he asked.

You nodded again, although you didn’t entirely hear him.

“The parking garage collapsed– but Boone’s on his way. He’s gonna give us a ride home.”

“Okay,” you mumbled softly, letting yourself melt into Tyler’s side again.

The road where you met Boone was a short walk, and you were thankfully starting to get feeling back in your legs. But even still, you let Tyler support the majority of your weight as he guided you towards Boone’s familiar, beat up truck. Tyler held open the door and helped you climb inside.

“Christ–” Boone said, turning in the driver’s seat to get a good look at you.

“She’s okay,” Tyler answered, sliding into the backseat beside you. Although he sounded like he was trying to convince himself more than Boone.

“How the hell did you guys make it through that?” Boone asked as he surveyed the destruction around you. You forced yourself not to look. Instead, you rested your head against Tyler’s shoulder. “The blockade guy told me the entire storm shelter collapsed. I guess too many people crammed inside, so they couldn’t shut the door good.”

You swallowed thickly. If you hadn’t found Tyler, the storm shelter was going to be your plan B–

“We hid under the staircase,” he said as Boone began down the road. “Had Dexter been tracking anythin’ out this way?”

The two proceeded to talk about the sudden impact of the storm and whatever else tornado chasers cared about. Meanwhile, Tyler’s thumb trailed up and down your bare arm soothingly, allowing you to tune it all out.

When Boone pulled down your dirt driveway and put his car in park fifteen minutes later, he turned to face you. “I’m real glad you’re okay.”

You offered him a weak smile. “Me too.”

After thanking his friend, Tyler helped you out of the car and towards the house, his hand never leaving your waist until you were inside.

“Couch or bed?” he asked, shutting the front door behind him.

“Couch,” you murmured. The bed meant stairs, which you weren’t sure you were ready for quite yet.

“You got it,” he said.

Gently, Tyler helped lower you to the couch, where you curled up against the corduroy fabric and sighed.

But your eyes snapped open quickly as soon as you realized that Tyler wasn’t laying down with you.

“Where are you going?” you asked, trying (and failing) to mask the panic in your voice. You shifted and sat up, a sudden wave of pain hit your head, causing you to squeeze your eyes shut. You tried your best to mask it and force your eyes back open. It felt pathetic, but you didn’t really want Tyler out of your sight right now.

He turned around instantly. “I was just gonna get you some water and an ice pack, baby. I’ll be right back.”

“Okay,” you said uneasily. Your eyes remained trained on him the entire time he maneuvered around the kitchen. You could tell he noticed, too. His eyes kept flickering up to check on you.

He was back in less than a minute– but still you sighed a breath of relief. He set the glass of water down on the side table before taking a seat on the other end of the couch.

He handed you the ice pack and watched sadly as you placed it on your temple with a wince.

“Can I get you anything else?”

“Will you– will you lay down with me?” you asked him.

Tyler nodded. “Of course, baby.” He opened his arms, making a spot for you to lay between his legs. With your back resting against his chest, Tyler wound one arm around your middle and used the other to hold the ice pack against your head for you.

Using what little strength you had, you gripped his forearm. “Just... please don’t go,” you begged.

Tyler pressed his lips on the top of your head. “I won’t– I’m right here,” he assured you. “Not goin’ anywhere.”

You exhaled a sigh of relief and laid your head back against his chest, finally feeling content.

After a while, you were finally able to drift off in his embrace. Your body ached and your head throbbed, but everything felt more bearable when you were in Tyler’s arms.

#tyler owens x reader #tyler owens imagine #tyler owens fic #tyler owens x reader fic #tyler ownes x reader imagine #twisters imagine #twisters fic #twisters x reader #tyler owens twisters #twisters movie fic

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kngrose · 4 days ago

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situationship with sevika part two

WARNINGS: mentions of cheating, coercion if you squint, kinda steamy

authors note: see part one here. this was hiiiighly requested! ^^

“You gonna answer that?” she asked, her voice low and teasing.

The smell of whiskey and faint smoke lingered in the room, the soft glow of a lamp casting shadows on the walls. You hadn’t meant to come here—not again. Yet, your feet had carried you across the city, through dimly lit streets, and to this place that held so many secrets.

A single unread message glared in your mind, though you hadn’t dared to open it. It was from him. Your boyfriend. You shook your head, feeling the burn of guilt prickling at your chest. “I shouldn’t even be here,” you murmured, but your words lacked conviction.

Sevika stood by the window, her broad shoulders silhouetted against the pale moonlight. Her cigar burned lazily in her metal hand, the smoke curling upward in lazy spirals. She turned slightly at your rebuttal, her sharp gaze settling on you with that same unreadable intensity.

“But you are,” she replied simply, taking a drag from her cigar before stubbing it out in the ashtray. She stepped closer, her boots heavy on the floor, the sound reverberating in the quiet room. “And this isn’t the first time, is it?”

Your breath hitched. She was right. Despite every promise you had made to yourself—and to him—you were here. Again. The memory of the first encounter was still vivid—fleeting moments of passion, stolen in the shadows.

That night had been a mistake. At least, that’s what you told yourself. But the way she had touched you— the heat of her touch, the way she made you feel alive in a way you hadn’t in months. It was a mistake, you remind yourself. A one-time thing. But as the days stretched on, you couldn’t stop thinking about her, about the pull she had over you.

“Guess that boyfriend of yours isn’t enough for you.”

Her words hit a nerve, and you flinched, guilt and shame swirling inside you. “Don’t,” you whispered, but even to your own ears, it sounded weak. You swallowed hard, your resolve wavering as she closed the distance between you. She stopped just a breath away, her metal arm glinting in the dim light as she reached out to brush a strand of hair from your face. Her touch was deliberate, teasing, and it sent a shiver down your spine.

You glanced up at her from your spot on the couch, your head eye level with her hips. “It’s not right,” you whispered, more to yourself than to her. Her metal hand brushed your cheek, the touch cold but strangely grounding. “It’s not right…” she murmured, repeating your words. “Doesn’t stop you from wanting it, hm?”

The question hung in the air, daring you to respond. You looked at her—broad shoulders, sharp jawline, the dangerous glint in her eyes that drew you in like a moth to a flame. She leaned in, and your breath hitched as her fingers traced a slow path down your arm, sending shivers through your body. “You don’t have to stay,” Her voice was calm, almost mocking. “But if you do… you know how this ends.”

You hated how true her words were, hated the way your body betrayed you as she she pulled to to your feet, backing you into the wall. “I…” you started, but the words died on your lips as she leaned in, her scent—smoke, leather, and something distinctly her—filling your senses. Her lips brushed against yours, “Tell me to stop.”

You should have. You knew you should have. But instead, your hands found their way to her chest, clutching at her shirt as if holding on to her could steady the chaos inside you. “I shouldn’t—”

“But you will,” she interrupted, her voice firm, her tone leaving no room for argument. Her hand moved to your waist, pulling you closer until you could feel the warmth of her breath on your lips. “You didn’t come here to say no.”

Her hands, one warm and human, the other cold and unyielding, gripped your waist as she pulled you impossibly closer. You shouldn’t be doing this—not again. But the way she touched you, the way she made you feel like the center of her world, was impossible to resist.

Your chest tightened with guilt, but it wasn’t enough to stop you. It wasn’t enough to keep you from leaning into her, from letting her lips claim yours in a kiss that was just as intoxicating as you remembered. All the guilt, the hesitation, the promises you’d made melted away under the heat of her kiss. Her hands were firm and possessive, pulling your hips flush against hers, as though daring you to regret this later.

You knew you wouldn’t be leaving when she hiked your leg over her hip, gripping your ass with an almost aggravated slap.

When you finally broke apart, breathless and trembling, Sevika chuckled, her voice dripping with satisfaction. “Second time’s the charm, huh, Baby?” You didn’t answer, couldn’t answer. The weight of what you’d done—again—settled heavily in your chest. But as her fingers trailed down your arm, lacing with yours, a part of you wondered if you’d ever be able.

please let me know if you would like to be added to my taglist to be notified every time i post, xx

taglist: @opropheticsoul @randomperson291 @arevik2345 @gravegoer @d3eathnotes @nikaachuuuu @elwerostinky-13 @maiiluvs @sevikasfan @hearrrtfillia @softsy @malacrnaruza @facelesshere @vanillasundaeblob

#mother speaks #sevika #sevika arcane #sevika x reader #arcane sevika #sevika smut #arcane #arcane league of legends #arcane x reader #arcane season 2 #arcane s2 #wlw #lesbian #ao3

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hyunesent · 4 months ago

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: ̗̀➛ A HIDDEN VULNERABILITY

"Tsukishima's whisper sent shivers down your spine, and you couldn't help but melt into the bed. "I could give it to you," he murmured, his words dripping with temptation. "I could give you the best fuck of your life, without any strings attached."

a tsukishima x reader oneshot (afab)

cw: jealous tsukishima, mentions of kageyama and reader, some angst (tsuki doubting himself + relationship troubles), oral sex ( m + f receiving), tsuki is mean at first, rough sex, edging, teasing.

Under the pale luminescence of a waxing moon, Tsukishima Kei stood at the edge of the gymnasium, his golden eyes watching you with an intensity that belied his typically aloof demeanour.

The cool night air wrapped around him like a shroud, concealing the turmoil that churned within his chest. He was the picture of calm indifference, his tall frame leaning casually against the wall, arms crossed, yet his heart beat a frantic rhythm against his ribcage.

Inside, the gym was alive with the echo of laughter and the rhythmic thud of volleyballs meeting floors. You were there, a radiant presence among his teammates, your smile bright enough to rival the moonlight. As you laughed at something Kageyama said, Tsukishima felt a sharp pang of something unfamiliar-jealousy.

He hated how his stomach twisted when he saw the two of you, hated the way his insecurities gnawed at his resolve.

He bit down on his tongue hard when he saw how close the two of you were, laughing together, closing the proximity between you two. At one point Kageyamas hand had snaked around your waist to gently move you out of the way and Tsukishima had to watch as it loitered there for way too long paired with eye contact that made him murderous.

Tsukishima had always prided himself on his detachment and ability to keep people at arm's length. But you had dismantled his defences with ease. Your kindness, your genuine affection. And now, the fear of losing you to someone more worthy threatened to undo him completely.

The night wore on, and the gym began to empty, the sounds of the game fading into the quiet of the evening. You lingered, still chatting with Kageyama, unaware of the storm brewing in Tsukishima's mind. When you finally noticed him, standing in the shadows, a flicker of concern crossed your face.

"Kei?" you called softly, your voice a gentle soothing to his raw nerves. "Everything okay?"

He hesitated, the words caught in his throat. Vulnerability was a foreign land to him, one he had never willingly ventured into. But tonight, the fear of losing you overpowered his pride. There was a tremor in his gaze, a plea for reassurance.

Tsukishima forced a tight-lipped smile, his facade of aloofness slipping slightly as he replied, "I'm fine. Just tired from practice." The lie tasted bitter on his tongue, but he couldn't bring himself to voice the turmoil swirling within him.

You studied him for a moment, your expression soft with understanding. Tsukishima felt a surge of gratitude towards you, mingled with an ache for something more he couldn't quite name. As you bid Kageyama goodbye and walked over to him, the air between you crackled with unspoken words and unresolved emotions.

As the two of you walked home, there was something different in the way he looked at you. Something dark and possessive. It sent a shiver down your spine, but also a thrill that you couldn't quite explain. His golden eyes held a depth you hadn't seen before as if he was trying to convey a message without words. The hostility in his tone lingered, intensifying the breeze rustling the leaves overhead.

Eventually, a heavy silence stretched between you. Tsukishima's usual aloofness was tinged with an undercurrent of something primal, something raw that made your heart race

As you approached his apartment building. The click of the key in the lock echoed through the empty hallway, a stark contrast to the charged atmosphere between you. Tsukishima led the way inside, his footsteps purposeful and unwavering. The silence enveloped you both like a heavy cloak, suffocating any attempts at conversation.

You watched as he shrugged off his jacket, the fabric falling to the floor in a haphazard heap. Without sparing you a glance, he made a beeline for the bathroom, his movements swift and controlled. The sound of running water soon filled the air, a sharp reminder of the distance between you.

Confusion and tension wrapped around you like invisible chains. Tsukishima's sudden change in demeanour had thrown you off balance, leaving you grasping for some semblance of understanding. The way he seemed to be wrestling with his inner demons made your heart ache with a mixture of sympathy and fear.

You stood in the dimly lit living room, uncertain of what to do next. The seconds stretched into minutes as you waited, the sound of the running water creating a dissonant background to the turmoil brewing within you. His apartment felt unfamiliar now, shadows lurking in every corner where there used to be only familiarity. You sinked face. first onto his bed and struggled to look up to rest your face between your hands.

Your mind was running a mile a minute overthinking every interaction you had with him today, desperate to know what was wrong.

Minutes passed in a suspended state of uncertainty, each tick of the clock echoing loudly in your ears. The water from the shower continued its steady rhythm, a barrier separating you from Tsukishima. You debated whether to stay or leave, unsure of where you stood with him at that moment.

As you tried to gather your thoughts, the door to the bathroom creaked open, and Tsukishima emerged His hair was damp and tousled, strands sticking to his forehead while his shirt fit in a way that allowed his collarbone to peer through.

Suddenly, Tsukishima was behind you, his breath fanning the top of your head. You could feel the heat radiating off his body as he reached out his hands to slide them against your waist, you gasped softly at the new touch. Your heart pounded in your chest, the moment stretching taut between you like a drawn bowstring.

“What was that with Kageyama?” Tsukishima murmured, his voice low and gravelly, you felt a sharp stab of remorse upon hearing the pain in his voice. The weight of his words hung heavy in the air, sending a jolt of anticipation through you. His lips traced barely-there kisses along your neck and shoulder. Starkly contrasting the form grip he now had on your hips, igniting a trail of tingling warmth in its wake.

You remembered the closeness between you and your boyfriend’s teammate and you hoped that he had interpreted the situation differently. Taking a deep breath, you turned to face him. The expression in his eyes was undeniably dark and hard, and you could understand why.

"Kei, I’m sorry," you said, stammering. "I didn't mean to—I just got—"

"Swept up in the moment?" Tsukishima interrupted with a sneer. "Come on. Did you really believe I'd accept that excuse?"

Without another word, Tsukishima gently wrapped his arms around your body, his gentleness confusing yet comforting given the situation. He turned you around onto your back and looked into your eyes with a now unreadable expression.

His presence loomed over you, a dark cloud suffocating any sense of self-control. You were nothing but a puppet in his hands, helplessly succumbing to his every whim and desire.

“I know you better than anyone y/n” he reminded you with his lips ghosting against yours. He pulled back with a smirk when you chased them and opted to press his thumb to your bottom lip.

You lean forward slightly to take it between your lips sucking it gently as Tsukishimas gaze becomes more intense. His other hand trails down your front, stopping just above where you needed him most and you can see the anticipation written all over his face. He pressed down gently eliciting a sinful whine from you.

Your tongue swirls around his thumb, tasting the faint saltiness of his skin, watching in fascination as he fought to maintain his composure by closing his eyes.

They snap open with a new drive as he removes his hands from you only returning them to press his fingers against your clothed cunt. Already desperate you moan out craving more from him and he settles between your legs to pull you in for a heated kiss.

You kiss him back matching his intensity and exploring each other’s tongues, his lips are soft and demanding against yours, his hands roaming your body with a heat that sets your skin on fire. Your fingers tangle in his hair, relishing the feeling of his short strands against your skin. You felt lightheaded and being able to feel his hardening erection against your pussy with only thin material between the two didn’t help.

His hand sneaks up to wrap his slender fingers around your throat applying just the right amount of pressure to the sides.

Your eyes screw shut as he turns your head to the side, giving him full access to the expanse of your neck. His lips part slightly to trail his tongue tantalizingly slow up the side of your neck finishing with a kiss to your most sensitive spot while grinding his cock onto your pussy, every movement calculated to elicit pleasure and desire from you.

Your legs instinctively spread wider needing more from him so you plea with a moan:

“Fuck Kei, I want you so bad.” Those words came out more breathless than you intended but he lacked the amusement he would usually have.

“No, you don’t.” He rolls his hips into yours again, harder this time. “You want someone else.”

Tsukishima couldn’t even bring himself to say the other man’s name and the conflict was evident in his gaze as he groped at your chest. Even though he was behaving in a certain way, his underlying insecurities were still palpable. After the events that occurred earlier, these feelings seemed to have heightened and become more prominent.

You struggled to form coherent sentences as Tsukishima kept stimulating you. You were hot and bothered and you felt distant from the man on top of you despite your proximity.

Tsukishima's whisper sent shivers down your spine, and you couldn't help but melt into the bed. "I could give it to you," he murmured, his words dripping with temptation. "I could give you the best fuck of your life, without any strings attached. You could leave and go to him right now." You didn’t know whether to moan or cry at his sheer lack of emotion when stating his offer.

But what you did know is that you didn't want anyone else. "No," you whimpered, grasping onto Tsukishima's arm. "Please, I only want you. It's always been you."

Tsukishima's rough hand slips into your pants, his fingers moving expertly as he searches for your slick heat. Faint streaks of wetness cling to his skin as he pulls his hand back and messily spreads your arousal over your lower stomach.

Tsukishima's fingers are cool against your heated skin, his touch sending shivers through your body. As he spreads your slick over your folds as well, fingers brushing over your clit, you feel a jolt of pleasure shoot through you, causing your body to arch and writhe beneath him.

“I bet he doesnt know how messy and rough you like it when we fuck.” His fingers are focused on your clit now and you’re a moaning mess.

“Think he could make you moan like this?” he coos at you “I’m barely touching you”

“Kei! Please—”

“But really, it’s up to you,” Tsukishima said nonchalantly, smirking a bit as he spread your pussy lips open, hearing you moan. “maybe he’s better than me,”

“I’m not going anywhere, Kei,” you begged, nearly crying. “I’m yours, I promise!”

“Promise?” his tone was now soft as he tilted your chin down to search your eyes for sincerity.

“Yes!” You reached out to tangle your fingers in his hair.

Tsukishima let his eyes flutter close for a moment and melted into your touch. When he opened them again he collected you in his arms tenderly and then through you onto the covers the way he wanted you, pinning you down your head on the pillows.

"Good girl," he murmured, pulling down your pants and soaked underwear. He then traced his tongue up your slit, making you gasp with pleasure."

From this point on tsukishima was not gentle and showed you no mercy, devouring your pussy like a starved man focused solely on your pleasure. With every lick and suck, he dialled up the intensity, using his tongue in ways that had you panting and moaning with each thrust.

He went deeper, his rough tongue darting inside you, hitting your G-spot just right, making your back arch off the bed, your hands gripping the sheets in a vice-like hold. His lips were soft, but his tongue was a force to be reckoned with, flicking, teasing, and exploring your most sensitive spots.

You were a mess now, your entire body trembling with pleasure, your breath coming in short gasps as you begged for more.

And so you gave in, desperately clinging to him, writhing beneath him with each thrust and lick. The world was reduced to that one moment, that one sensation. You no longer thought about the other man, the one who had caused this turmoil within you. All that mattered was Tsukishima, his skilful touch, and the way he made you feel.

Your eyes scrunched shut once more as he placed his hand on your chest, his thumb gently grazing your nipple. He knew all of your sensitive spots, your weak points.

“Don't stop! I’m—”

Before you could even finish he pulls away, expressionless, lower face covered in your slick. You whine and lift your hips off the bed but you can’t deny your arousal heightening at the sight of him.

Without saying a word he taps the outside of your leg while kissing your inner thigh signalling for you to get up. He chuckles when he notices you struggling slightly but you manage to crawl towards him nevertheless and push his shirt off. He looks down at you with an admiring smile and responds immediately, pulling his shirt over his head and tossing it aside, along with his boxers.

Her eyes grew wide at the sight of his length: rock hard and already dripping. You marvel at him in awe while he’s attentively watching your expression.

“Looks like someone wants me bad,” Tsukishima purred, leisurely stroking his length as his eyes watched you carefully, challenging you to make a move.

His constant teasing had finally reached its limit, and you were determined to get back at him. You sat up and crawled over to him, where you slapped his hand away from his length, taking control with your own hand.

Tsukishima inhaled sharply, tilting his head back, but he immediately brought it back down, not wanting to take his eyes off of you.

"Faster," he demanded, his voice strained.

You hurried your hand up and down his length, occasionally grazing your thumb over the tip and relishing in the sounds of pleasure that escaped him. When you noticed his fists clenching the sheets, turning white with tension, you knew he was close. So without hesitation, you did what came naturally to you.

He groaned and swore as you took all of him into your mouth. Tsukishima's body shuddered as you slowly moved your head up and down, maintaining eye contact with him. Suddenly, he grabbed a handful of your hair and forcefully pushed your head down, making you take all of him in at once.

You choked and gasped for air, and it seemed like your body was reacting in his favour – the tightness in his stomach began to loosen, and he was on the brink of losing control. He repeated your name like a mantra as if pleading to anyone listening.

Before he could give in to his desires, he suddenly snapped out of it and pulled you off him. You trembled with anticipation as Tsukishima's expression turned into one filled with pure lust. He manoeuvred you around, forcing you onto your hands and knees.

He stood behind you, leaning in close to whisper in your ear. "I'm going to make you feel so good," he breathed, his words sending shivers down your spine. You let out a moan, unable to resist his dirty talk. It was always a turn-on for you.

You feel your breath hitch at his weight shifting on the bed before you feel his cock against your glistening opening.

He uses his top to spread your slick around and gently pushes your legs wider. He begins to push into you struggling at first.

“shit- baby relax.” he hisses and leans forward to kiss your shoulder and hold you tenderly for a moment, relieving some of your tension.

You feel his soft lips part on your shoulder as he pushes his length into you slowly letting you feel every vein against your walls.

Once he was fully inside you, he pulled out almost entirely, a slow, teasing motion that left you yearning for more. Then, he began to thrust, creating a rhythm that left both of you gasping for air.

You’re moaning load so he pushes your head into the pillow, the new position allowing him to thrust deeper causing you to let out a muffled scream.

He groaned and picked up the pace, his hips slapping against your ass. You were lost in the moment, feeling his cock deep inside you, and the passion between you growing with every thrust.

Tsukishima groaned, his hands tightening on your hips as he felt the pleasure building within him. His cock slammed against your G-spot with each brutal stroke, sending waves of ecstasy through you both.

You were panting now, your body trembling with the intensity of the sensation. You felt his hands digging into your flesh, possessive and needy, driving you wild.

“Oh god, Kei! Right there, just like that!” you cried out, cupping at your slick, needy mound.

Tsukishima slapped your hand away, replacing it with his own as he messily stimulated your clit. He pounded into you harder, his cock swelling with each thrust, you could feel the build-up of his climax.

"I'm going to cum, baby," he growled, his voice low and thick. "You want my cum, don't you?"

You nodded vigorously, looking back with eyes wide with desire. He smirked, his gaze locked on yours, and then he began to thrust even faster. Your screams filled the room as he hit your sweet spot over and over again.

With one final thrust, Tsukishima whispered your name, releasing a torrent of intensity within you, bringing your climax crashing down upon you. Your body shook with pure bliss, every nerve ending ignited by his touch.

He collapsed on top of you for a moment, his breath ragged as he tried to catch his breath. You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him close, feeling both relieved and exhilarated.

Slowly, he pulled away, leaving a kiss on your forehead, before helping you to lie down on the bed in a more comfortable position. The afterglow was just as intense as the passion, leaving an unspoken comfort between you. You opened your eyes, to see Tsukishima’s golden ones staring right back at you.

You reached out to brush the wet strands of hair from his forehead and he sighed softly pulling you closer to him. The two of you shared tender kisses and he looked up at you with a flash of raw vulnerability.

“You’re mine. No one else’s.” he rasped.

You nodded in agreement causing you both to crack smiles before you kissed his cheek softly and held him as he fell asleep almost instantly.

You observed him as he slept; it was during these vulnerable moments that you were reminded of the gentleness that always resided within him, hidden beneath his tough facade. You lightly traced the line of his jaw, completely enamoured with him.

𝘼𝙪𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙧𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚: This is a work of fiction not a portrayal of anyone in real life. this was supposed to be much shorter but I got carried away lol. This is not proofread so I'm sorry for any mistakes! Likes and reblogs are welcome and appreciated. Happy reading .ᐟ

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darkstaria · 4 months ago

Text

Yandere Batfam - Soulmate Soul Animal Au.

Chapter 5:

Chapter 1. Chapter 2. Chapter 3. Chapter 4. Chapter 6.

Sorry for the long weight everyone! I had to binge allll of Stranger Things for a friend's future birthday event and ohhh wow I thought the episodes were gonna be 20 minutes not 40-1hr

Also I suffered a bit of writers block, it happens

But regardless, I hope you all enjoy! ^ ^

(also the taglist has migrated to the bottom of the fic because it's a bit too long now)

----

The office was large, sprawling walls contained by an even bigger ceiling. The faint humming of Tim’s computer provided no reassurance, nor did the soft leather of your seat. It felt as if you could sink right into it, and try to fade away. There was a faint aroma of coffee that lingered around the office, but it gave you no solace. It just reminded you of the mistakes you made, to end up here. The elephant in the room.

Tim’s smile was bright, a warm sun. You were burning.

“It’s.. nice to see you again.” You attempted, words stumbling about on your tongue. You couldn't help it, the mere presence of your soulmate sending anxiety skyrocketing down your spine. Why couldn't he just get to the point?

“I didn't really expect my company and Wayne Enterprises to be working together.” You continued, a fake smile plastered onto your face. “What a nice coincidence!”

“I hope for us to have a successful collaboration.” Tim replies, still smiling. “But enough about the companies, it's been so long since I've seen you, and I didn't have your number to text.”

You laugh in response, a pale imitation of a real laugh. You had hoped to focus on discussing the work you both had to do first, and then escape before any catch up talks were attempted. Unfortunately, it appears that Tim won't let you do any actual work before engaging with him.

Your nails dug into your knees, an attempt to stay calm. Your reply was measured.

“Oh are you sure? Surely it would be better to get work on the collaboration done first, then we’ll have all the time left to chat freely.”

“I wouldn't worry about that, really. We’ve got plenty of time together, and I wouldn't be able to work without knowing how you're doing lately. Since you didn't have the time to text, I presume you've been busy?”

“Ah, right! Yes! Yes I have been, busy that is, you know how it is with work. Endless and all that.” You were frustrated at being pushed into a lie already. Tim was in charge here and he knew it.

“Why don't you give me your number then?” His smile was perfect, as flawless as his manipulation. “That way, when you're too busy to remember to message, I can remind you.”

You frowned. Like he didn't know your number already.

Quickly remembering you had to smile, you gave him your number, watching as he slowly typed it in, then texted. Only when you showed you received his text did he relent.

The ‘meeting’ continued on from there, Tim asking about all your hobbies and passions. Time ticked on, daylight turning to evening. Any attempt from you to redirect the conversation to either himself or work was swiftly dismissed. A small part of you admired his skill, he was playing you like a doll. You knew it, but you had no option but to play along. It was like an older sibling playing pretend with the young sibling. You hated the comparison.

The attention was unnerving. Your only solace was that neither of you had soul animals present currently, which was an absolute miracle.

Actually… what if that isn't a coincidence at all? Could this too have been engineered? Was that even possible?

“So then what’s your opinion on..” The sound of Tim’s voice slammed you back to reality. You quickly focused back in, fearing losing any advantage due to a lack of attention.

Abruptly, an alarm sounded, the noise blazing a path through your eardrums. You jolted in surprise. Tim however, was barely rattled. A frown appeared on his face as he glanced at his phone.

“That was the Arkham Asylum breakout alarm. It's no longer safe to go outside.” With these words Tim got up, walking over to the door and opening it.

“What…?” You mumbled, horrified.

“Stay here.” He commanded, a firm tone in his voice. This was Red Robin. “I’m going to check on the building, don't leave, it isn't safe.”

“Wait! But.. the collaboration.. we didn't..” The words rushed out of your mouth, leaving you feeling like a fool as Tim paused for a moment, to look at you.

“Don't worry.” He smiled, the weight of it bearing down upon you. You felt small. “You can just come in tomorrow, I'm sure your company won't mind.” With the final word said, Tim closed the door, presumably rushing off to become Red Robin. The click of the door felt like a dismissal, a scolding. A reminder to stay in your place.

Once again, you were trapped.

You clenched your fists. He wanted you to stay here, in his territory. You didn't doubt that Wayne Enterprises had amazing security, probably some of the best considering the identities of the owners. This was likely the third most safe place in Gotham, with the first and second places going to Batman’s base and Wayne Manor.

But… you haven't learned anything yet. All that time spent with him and somehow he hadn't brought up that singular, obvious fact. There was no way he didn't know, not with the way he was acting. And yet, he hadn't brought it up. Why?

What was he getting out of this?

Was he hoping that if you assumed he didn't know then you could easily be monitored? Was he just gathering information before acting? Where was the rest of the vigilantes in this?

Your head was spinning, going in circles. You couldn't understand him, you couldn't understand any of them. Why choose to be vigilantes, knowing the costs that life endures? Why were you tied to them, when you were so against a fundamental part of their existence?

You couldn't understand this at all. How could this be the basis of a soulmate bond?

You were… opposites.

You felt the telltale beat of an oncoming headache. For your own sanity, you decided to fold the incoming soulmate crisis into a small cavity of your brain to panic about later.

Fact One: There was an ongoing Arkham Asylum breakout, everyone is either being attacked, hiding away or escaping the city.

Fact Two: Batman and all his partners are going to be occupied for at least several hours if not a day.

Fact Three: You were going to take advantage of this.

It was the perfect time. All your soulmates were occupied, so none of them would be able to pay any attention to you. Red Robin might know your identity, and so the other vigilantes may know as well.

That didn't need to matter. They may have the information, but information itself is useless, if they are unable to act.

Right now, any Gothamite that isn't involved with rogues is either hiding or escaping. You could join the escapes, and get out of Gotham in the rush.

You didn't have to stay here, to play the role of a caged bird. You could escape, before they even got a chance.

You had to try.

You suppressed a shaky sigh, getting up and walking to the door. You tried the door handle.

Locked.

Uh oh. You tried it again, and then a few more times after that, shaking the door eventually in your desperation. Oh come on! You desperately thought to yourself. The one time you finally got the perfect chance and it's being ruined by a locked door.

Wait. You glanced at the small window in the door, the beginnings of an idea sprouting in your head. You glance over at Tim’s desk, noticing a small paper weight. You smile.

Lifting the paperweight, you judge the weight to be enough. Holding it up, you get into position to throw.

Wait.. the door has a keyhole, not a sliding chain, you realize, almost too late.

Ah.

Well that would have been embarrassing.

Sadly, you place the paperweight back down. There goes that idea.

But that wasn't the only door in the office, there was another one, the one that the shouting voice left out of. You approach the door, trying the doorknob.

Click!

It opens! Giving a small laugh, you advance through the door and out into the halls of Wayne Enterprises, a jubilant smile on your face. Whoever was shouting at Tim earlier, you almost wanted to thank them.

You avoid the elevators, instead picking stairs, as you presumed they may also be in lockdown. It didn't take you too long to get down to the ground floor, since the main walking areas were now barren of people.

The ground floor had some unfortunate news to offer you though. The once wildly open doors had now been locked down and barred, an iron wall between you and freedom.

Although, maybe there was some other way, you thought, eyeing the anxious security guards patrolling the front entrance.

Pulling out of your hiding spot, you approach the guards, making to time your steps, making noise to not scare them. You really didn't want to get shot before you had even left the safety of the building.

“P-please help me!” You stuttered, trembling with tears in your eyes. The guards jolted in surprise, turning to face you. They were expecting threats from the outside, not the inside.

“I need to get home, I can't stay here.” You sobbed, the guards pausing in confusion. They didn't know what to do with you.

“What’s wrong?” A sympathetic guard asked, patting you gently on the back. You almost felt bad.

“I need to go home!” You repeated, tone frantic.

A disgruntled guard stepped up to you. “Look, no one can leave right now. Company policy. It isn't safe, there's been an Arkham breakout. Just sit tight, and whatever’s waiting for you at home will be there when you get back.”

“N-no…” You mumbled. “You don't understand.. I have.. I have a cat, waiting for me.” You glance up, watching the expressions on their faces. They seem unmoved. “A-and my child!” You cry out, realizing you needed a better lie.

“A child?” The disgruntled guard repeated, sounding a little more sympathetic, but clearly not convinced. He eyed you up and down, evidentially thinking you looked a little too young.

“They're so little, but my cat likes to take care of them and I needed the money so, so I left them at home alone today. But recently they're been figuring out how to open doors and if anything happened to them I don't know what I’d d-” Your frantic lie is cut off, the disgruntled guard laying a hand on your shoulder.

“Alright listen. None of us can escort you, we're here on the job.”

You nodded, feeling exuberation rush through you.

“But if anything happened, run right back here, alright?”

You nodded again, fighting a smile on your face. The guards unlocked the doors, watching you dash out with frowns on their tired faces.

They were obvious to the beaming smirk on yours.

Nights in Gotham are by nature a little terrifying, but they're nothing compared to an Arkham breakout night. Shadows crawled up alleyways, the smell of booze and smoke lingering in a way it never could on normal nights. The terror was so pungent in the air, you could almost taste it. It was on the tip of your tongue.

Every so often you'd hear a scream, and you'd walk a little faster. Ideally you would have committed to the stealth route, but you had wasted enough time already.

Your house was on the way to the bus station, so you could easily pop in, grab essentials, and get out. You wouldn't lie, you were nervous. Every so often you’d feel your knees lose strength, and you'd have to fight with your body to regain the strength to stand.

But at this point it was either the horror of whatever your soulmates had in store for you, or the horrors of Arkham night. You'd already picked your poison, now it was time to swallow.

You took a breath in, then out, and continued walking. You were almost there.

The streets of Gotham stretched on endlessly, a cacophony of fear.

Just a bit longer.

A gunshot sounded nearby, the noise blasting through your eardrum.

Almost there.

The hum of a van's engine rushed through the night, haunting laughter echoing through the road.

You could see your house!

You beamed, a smile lighting up your face, as you practically skipped up to the entrance. You reached into your bag to withdraw your keys.

You had just retrieved them when a crowbar smashed into your head.

----

Wow umh, please pray for reader guys, this is NOT going well for them. Who do you think that was?

Me writing shenanigans for this chapter:

I just really feel like reader should smash open this window, let's do it. Wait. They wouldn't have doors that work like that. so reader sadly puts the heavy object down :(

Also me: yeah so reader lies here and it's an absolute mess

Also also me: rip reader that's a lotta head trauma omg

Sorry for the lack of soul animals this chapter :(( there's a reason I swear

The next chapter is definitely gonna be a bit insane, for sure! The soul animals return then anddd in droves!

Taglist: @moonchild-artemisdaughter @jjsmeowthie @madine11-blog @xxrougefangxx @hadesnewpersephone @neerathebrightstar @mel-star636 @jaythes1mp @rosecentury @lov3vivian @gaozorous-rex-blog @victoria1676 @vrsin @silverklaus @ryukyuin @kurai-hono-blog @thisisafish123 @isawyourbrowserhistory @ain-t-no-way-bsfr @realifezompire @lunaluz432 @nickey-diano @sukiiluvs @sara0055 @alleakimlala @kdidgg @paperhermits @lavender-moony @alishii @emmbny @sirenetheblogger @fantasy-angelo @andrasia @vinnvinnvintage @nyra-42 @armystaysatnct @beyond-your-stars @starsdotalk @adeptusxia0 @jailbimbo @yandereheros @sxftiebee @i-have-three-feelings @toast-on-dandelioms @lyl-3 @sitepathos @pato-spoiler-27 @ghostdoodlen @phoenixgurl030 @problematicreblogger @sociallyakwardpanda

@imaginarydreams @zanzie @yuyuzi-ling @soriansick @f1lover4ever @kiikkey @elizzsush @raincxtter @luoyi85 @yune1337 @erikasurfer @thekingofsimps @chaosbeanuwu

If I missed anyone out im super sorry! I generally check the replies for the current chapter and messages for people that want to be tagged, so it's possible for people to slip by

Just remind me again and I'll be sure to add you! (This also goes for if I misspell you accidentally, which also happens cuz I type them all manually)

For some reason I couldnt tag anymore people until I put a random space in-between the tags, so that's apparently a thing. If anyone has any ideas why, I'm listening

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mrsfancyferrari · 2 months ago

Text

I'm All Yours

Summary: You and Lando have been in the talking stage for some months now. After Lando's third win, he knows he's missing something important. You being his girlfriend.

Song: Thinking Bout You by Frank Ocean

Author’s note: Please like, reblog and share this! <3

Word count: 5.8k

You and Lando had been navigating the delicate waters of the talking stage for several months, sharing countless late-night conversations and laughter that echoed through the quiet of your respective rooms.

Each message exchanged felt like a step closer, yet there was an unspoken tension lingering in the air, a sense that something significant was just out of reach.

Lando's impressive third win filled him with an exhilarating sense of triumph. As he stood on the podium, basking in the cheers and flashing cameras, he could almost taste the sweet taste of success.

However, amidst the euphoria, a realization washed over him, an emptiness that he couldn't ignore.

It was you, being his girlfriend, who was missing from the celebration, and the thought gnawed at him.

The absence of your presence cast a shadow over the victory that was otherwise so overwhelming. Lando couldn't help but feel incomplete, knowing that you were the one he wanted to share this milestone with.

The exhilaration of the win was dulled by the ache of knowing that you were missing out on the shared joy and celebration.

Without you by his side, Lando's victory felt hollow and incomplete. He had poured his heart and soul into achieving this milestone, knowing that your support meant the world to him.

But without you there to witness it, to witness his hard work and perseverance paying off, the victory felt less meaningful.

Lando couldn't help but replay in his mind the late-night conversations and laughter he and you had shared, each memory reminiscent of a time when he felt complete and whole.

Those moments fueled his determination and pushed him to work harder, but now, as he basked in the spotlight, he couldn't help but long for the presence of the person who had meant so much to him.

Lando knew that he couldn't control whether or not you were able to attend his victories, but he couldn't help but wish for the opportunity to share this momentous occasion with you.

He longed for the day when he could celebrate with you by his side, when the cheering crowd and the flashing cameras would serve as a backdrop to a beautiful and loving partnership.

As Lando stood there on the podium, amidst the deafening cheers and applause, he couldn't help but wonder what the future held for him and for you.

He knew that he couldn't suppress his feelings any longer, and he vowed to find a way to bridge the gap between the two of you.

The tension between the talking stage and something more had always been palpable, but now, Lando realized that he couldn't move forward without addressing it head-on.

He knew that he couldn't continue to navigate these delicate waters without risking the potentiality of losing you altogether.

With a heavy heart, Lando decided to take the first step, to reach out and let you know how much you meant to him, even in the face of uncertainty. . . .

Later that evening, Lando found himself pacing in his hotel room, the trophy gleaming on the table, but his heart was heavy. He picked up his phone, hesitating for a moment before dialing your number.

When you answered, your voice was a soothing balm to his racing thoughts. "Hey, Lando! Congratulations on the win! I saw the highlights; you were incredible!" you exclaimed, your excitement evident.

He smiled, but it quickly faded as he replied, "Thanks, but it doesn’t feel complete without you here. I thought about you the whole time. I really wish you could have been there to celebrate with me."

You could hear the sincerity in his voice, and it made your heart flutter. "I wish I could have been there too. I was cheering for you from home, you know that!" you said, trying to lighten the mood.

Lando sighed, "I know, but it’s just not the same. I want you by my side, sharing these moments. You mean so much to me, and I think it’s time we stop just talking and start being something more."

His words hung in the air, heavy with meaning, and you felt a rush of emotions.

"Lando, take a deep breath and sit down," you instructed, and Lando listened without hesitation. He settled onto the edge of the bed, the weight of his emotions pressing down on him.

"I need you to know that I care about you deeply too. But let's take it one step at a time, okay? We need to be honest with ourselves and each other about what we want and how we feel."

Lando nodded, feeling a sense of relief wash over him. "You're right. I just didn't want to waste any more time pretending that what we have wasn't special. I want to build something real with you."

You smiled, your heart swelling with hope. "We'll figure this out together, Lando. No rushing, no pressure—just us, exploring what we could be."

For the first time in a long while, Lando felt a sense of calm, knowing that he wasn't alone in his feelings.

"I love how you know how to calm me down," Lando muttered, looking at your face on the screen.

His eyes softened as he took in your reassuring smile, feeling a warmth spread through him. "It's like you always know exactly what to say to make everything better."

Your heart skipped a beat at his words. "That's because I care about you, Lando. And I want us to be happy, whatever that looks like for us." The two of you continued to talk about the race that he just won and he taught you some of the rules of the sport.

As the night wore on, the distance between you seemed to shrink, and Lando felt more certain than ever that together, you could face anything. . . .

It was the inaugural week of the much-anticipated long break, and you had made the decision to visit Lando, a choice that filled both of you with excitement. It had been weeks since you last saw each other in person, and the anticipation of reuniting was palpable.

As you made your way to the airport, Lando was a bundle of nerves, standing in front of the mirror in his room, adjusting his collar repeatedly as if it would somehow ease his anxiety.

Charles, his ever-watchful friend, leaned against the doorframe, a smirk playing on his lips as he observed Lando's frantic preparations.

"You know, mate, you’re acting like you’re about to meet the Queen or something," Charles chuckled, his voice dripping with playful sarcasm.

Lando shot a quick glance at Charles, his brow furrowed in concentration. "I know, but I just want everything to be perfect. I mean, she’s coming all this way, and I want to make a good impression," he replied, his voice tinged with a mix of excitement and dread.

The thought of you arriving filled him with both joy and a hint of panic. He was supposed to pick you up from the airport, and the only thing he was waiting for was the message that would signal your arrival.

"It’s not like it’s the first time you’re meeting her," Charles teased, crossing his arms and leaning back against the wall, clearly enjoying Lando’s discomfort.

"Yeah, but still," Lando muttered, turning to face Charles, his hands fidgeting with the collar of his shirt. "I want her to see me at my best."

Charles couldn’t help but laugh, shaking his head. "Honestly, mate, if she’s still talking to you after all this time, I think you’ve already made a pretty good impression."

Lando, unable to suppress a grin, playfully punched Charles on the shoulder. "Thanks for the vote of confidence, but I’m still going to be a nervous wreck until I see her."

The banter continued, but deep down, both friends knew that this reunion was going to be something special, a moment they had both been waiting for.

"Do you think there's something special brewing between you two in the future?" Charles inquired, his curiosity evident in his tone. He leaned back in his chair, a playful smirk dancing on his lips as he watched Lando's expression shift.

Lando's eyes sparkled with a mix of hope and uncertainty, and he took a moment to gather his thoughts before responding. "Honestly, I really hope so. She's not like anyone else I've ever dated," he replied, a soft smile spreading across his face.

"She has this quiet strength about her, always listening to my problems, but she can also be so lively and chatty. And when she smiles, those dimples of hers just light up the room. I find myself wanting to see her smile all the time. It’s like she has this incredible ability to make everything feel right. And don’t even get me started on how smart she is; I often wonder why she even bothers with a guy like me."

Just as Lando was about to delve deeper into his feelings, a notification chimed from his phone, interrupting his train of thought.

He quickly reached for it, his heart racing with anticipation. The message was from you, simply stating, "I'm landing now, see you soon! <3"

A wave of excitement washed over him, and he couldn't help but grin.

"See, mate? The moment you start talking about her, all your worries just fade away," Charles said, his grin widening as he nudged Lando playfully. "You’ve got to go get her. This could be the start of something amazing."

"You're right, I should," Lando replied, his voice filled with newfound determination. He quickly grabbed his suit, the fabric crumpling slightly in his hands as he rushed to the door. "Thanks for the push, Charles. I really appreciate it."

With a final glance back at his friend, Lando felt a surge of confidence. He was ready to embrace whatever the future held with her, knowing that this moment could be the beginning of something truly special.

As he dashed out, the anticipation of seeing her again filled him with a warmth that made him forget all his insecurities.

Lando slid into the driver’s seat of his car, the engine purring to life as he navigated through the bustling streets toward the airport. The anticipation bubbled within him, a mix of excitement and nerves as he thought about seeing you again.

Once he arrived, he parked and made his way inside, where he found a cozy spot to wait. Time seemed to stretch as he glanced at the arrivals board, his heart racing at the thought of your imminent arrival. Soon enough, he spotted the familiar figures emerging from the terminal, and his breath caught in his throat when his eyes finally locked onto yours.

You looked stunning, a vision in a sleek black dress that hugged your figure perfectly, complemented by a small coat that added an air of elegance against the chilly backdrop.

As you approached, Lando couldn’t help but notice the way you seemed slightly nervous under his gaze, your suitcase rolling behind you as you made your way closer. The moment felt electric, and he found himself momentarily lost in the depths of your eyes.

“Lando? Earth to Lando?” you teased, breaking the spell that had momentarily held him captive.

He blinked, shaking off the daze, and blurted out, “You look beautiful.” The words slipped out before he could think, genuine admiration shining through.

A soft blush crept across your cheeks as you replied, “Oh, thank you, Lando. You look handsome too.”

Your smile was infectious, and he couldn’t help but mirror it, feeling warmth spread across his face as he realized just how much you affected him.

After a few moments of shared smiles and lingering glances, Lando finally broke the silence. “Let me take your bag,” he offered, his voice steady despite the fluttering in his chest.

He reached for your suitcase, gently taking it from your hand and replacing it with his own, their fingers intertwining in a sweet gesture that felt both natural and exhilarating.

“I’ve missed you,” he admitted, his eyes searching yours for a hint of how you felt. “I missed you too,” you replied, your voice soft yet filled with sincerity.

"Congratulations on your win," you said as the two of you left the airport, your voice carrying a mix of pride and excitement.

Lando's eyes sparkled at your words, the acknowledgment of his recent achievement making his chest swell with joy. "Thank you," he responded, his tone humble yet filled with gratitude. "Though I wish you were there to celebrate with me."

As you walked side by side, the bustling noise of the airport fading into the background, Lando couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of contentment.

"Well, I'm here now," you said with a playful smile, "Do you have anything planned?" Lando's eyes lit up with excitement as he opened the door for you, his hand gently guiding you into the waiting car.

"Yeah, but we have to make a quick stop first," he replied, his voice tinged with a hint of mystery.

As the car sped away from the airport, you couldn't help but feel a thrill of anticipation. You glanced over at Lando, who was now staring out the window, a thoughtful expression on his face.

"Where are we going?" you asked, curiosity getting the better of you. He turned to you, a mischievous grin spreading across his face.

"You'll see," was all he said, leaving you to wonder what surprises lay ahead.

The car soon pulled up to a familiar street, and your curiosity only grew as you recognized Lando's neighborhood. As the vehicle came to a halt in front of his house, you looked at him with a puzzled expression.

"Why are we here?" you asked, but he just smiled and opened the car door, holding out his hand to help you out.

"Trust me," he said simply, his eyes twinkling with a secret only he knew.

Your confusion slowly turned to excitement as he led you up the steps and into his home. The moment you stepped inside, you were greeted by the warm, inviting ambiance of the living room.

On the coffee table sat a beautifully wrapped gift and a bouquet of your favorite flowers as well as all of your favourite books.

"I wanted to give you something special before our adventure," Lando said, his voice soft and filled with genuine affection.

"Aww, Lando, you shouldn't have," you muttered, your voice mingling with shock and gratitude as you took in the thoughtful array of gifts.

You knew how much time, effort, and money must have gone into arranging all of this, and it made your heart swell with appreciation.

Overwhelmed by the gesture, you stepped closer and placed a gentle kiss on Lando's cheek, watching as his face turned a delightful shade of red.

"Well, I wanted to make sure you knew how much you mean to me," he said, his eyes meeting yours with an earnest sincerity that made your heart flutter.

"You mean the world to me, Lando," you whispered, your voice trembling with emotion. "This is the most thoughtful thing anyone has ever done for me. I can't believe you went through all this trouble just to make me happy."

You wrapped your arms around him in a tight embrace, feeling the warmth of his body against yours and savoring the moment.

Lando hugged you back just as tightly, his breath hot against your ear as he murmured, "I'd do anything to see you smile like this."

As you pulled back slightly to look into his eyes, you could see the depth of his feelings reflected there. The world outside seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in that perfect, intimate moment.

After the embrace, the air between you and Lando crackled with an unspoken tension. You could feel the warmth radiating from his body, and as you turned to look at him, you caught him stealing glances at your lips, a flicker of desire dancing in his eyes.

It was a moment that felt suspended in time, yet he seemed to fight against the urge to close the distance.

"We should head to the next place," he finally murmured, breaking the spell as he moved toward the door, his voice low and slightly hesitant.

You followed him, a soft smile playing on your lips, but inside, a whirlwind of thoughts swirled. Lando was always so considerate, so respectful, and while you appreciated that about him, there were times when you wished he would take a leap of faith.

The two of you had danced around this moment for far too long, and the anticipation was almost unbearable.

"You know," you said, catching up to him as he paused at the door, "sometimes I think you’re too careful. What’s stopping you from just going for it?"

Your heart raced as you spoke, hoping to provoke a reaction.

He turned to face you, his expression a mix of surprise and contemplation. "I guess I just don’t want to ruin what we have," he admitted, running a hand through his hair, a gesture that always made your heart flutter. "But I can’t help but wonder if we’re missing out on something amazing."

You could see the conflict in his eyes, and it made you want to reach out and pull him closer.

"Whatever your option is, I'll always stand with you," you assured him, your voice soft but firm. The sincerity in your words seemed to ease some of the tension in his shoulders.

"Come on, don't you have a secret place to show me?" you added, a playful glint in your eye as you tried to lighten the mood.

Lando's face broke into a relieved smile, the weight of the moment lifting. "Yeah, I do," he said, his tone more relaxed as he opened the door for you.

As you both stepped out into the cool evening air, the unspoken promise of exploring that hidden place together filled you with a renewed sense of excitement. The night was still young, and with Lando by your side, you couldn't wait to see what adventures awaited.

Lando drove through winding roads until they reached a secluded, picturesque area. The headlights illuminated a candle-lit table set with an array of delicious food, and in the background, a luxurious yacht waited by the water's edge.

The sight took your breath away, and you turned to Lando with wide eyes, unable to hide your amazement. "How did you even manage this?" you asked, your voice filled with awe.

He merely grinned, a hint of mischief playing on his lips. "I have my ways," he replied, stepping out of the car and moving to your side to open your door.

As you walked together towards the beautifully set table, the ambiance of the evening wrapped around you like a warm embrace. The flickering candlelight cast a soft glow, making the moment feel even more intimate.

He gently pulled out your chair, guiding you to sit down with a grace that made your heart swell even more. As he took his seat across from you, the candlelight reflected in his eyes, creating a mesmerizing sparkle that you couldn’t look away from.

The aroma of the food wafted up, mingling with the crisp evening air, creating an atmosphere that was nothing short of magical.

Lando poured you a glass of wine, his movements deliberate and smooth, as if he had planned every detail to perfection. "To us," he toasted, raising his glass with a smile that spoke volumes.

You clinked glasses, feeling the warmth of the wine and the moment seep into your soul. The conversation flowed effortlessly, filled with laughter, shared dreams, and the kind of deep connection that made you forget about everything else.

As you both reached for the first bite, the flavors exploded in your mouth, a symphony of tastes that perfectly complemented the enchanting setting. The dishes ranged from succulent grilled vegetables to tender cuts of meat, each prepared with exquisite care.

Lando watched your reaction with a satisfied smile, clearly pleased that his efforts were being appreciated. You savored every morsel, the delicious food enhancing the magic of the evening even further.

Between bites, you exchanged stories and memories, each one bringing you closer together.

The food was more than just a meal; it was an experience that tied the night together in a perfect bow. The rich, creamy desserts were the final touch, a sweet ending to an unforgettable dinner.

As you finished the last bite, you couldn’t help but feel that this evening was the start of something truly special.

"So, is the yacht just for show?" you asked curiously, glancing over at the sleek vessel docked nearby. Lando's grin widened, a playful glint in his eyes.

"Ahh, I was waiting for you to ask about it," he replied, his voice tinged with excitement. "Do you want to get on it?"

Without waiting for an answer, he stood up and extended his hand to you. With your hand in his, you walked towards the yacht, the anticipation building with each step.

The yacht was an epitome of elegance and luxury, gleaming under the moonlight. As you stepped onto the polished teak deck, you couldn't help but admire the sleek lines and sophisticated design.

The gentle hum of the engine and the subtle sway of the boat added a sense of adventure to the atmosphere. Soft ambient lighting illuminated the pathways, guiding you both towards the interior with an inviting glow.

Inside, the yacht was a marvel of modern craftsmanship. Plush seating areas were adorned with rich fabrics and tasteful decor, creating a cozy yet opulent ambiance. The main salon featured expansive windows that offered breathtaking views of the starlit sea.

A state-of-the-art kitchen and a well-stocked bar hinted at more delightful culinary experiences to come. Everywhere you looked, there were thoughtful details that spoke of Lando's impeccable taste and the promise of unforgettable moments ahead.

"Do you like it?" Lando asked, a hint of uncertainty creeping into his voice despite his confident demeanor. You turned to him, eyes sparkling with genuine admiration.

"It's absolutely stunning, Lando. You've outdone yourself," you replied, squeezing his hand reassuringly. He visibly relaxed, his smile broadening as he took in your reaction.

As you continued exploring the yacht, Lando pointed out various features with pride. From the luxurious master suite to the sleek entertainment system, every detail was carefully curated to provide the ultimate experience.

You could see the passion and effort he had poured into making this yacht a floating paradise.

"I wanted this to be more than just a boat ride," he explained softly. "I wanted it to be a memory we would cherish forever."

You nodded, feeling a warmth spread through you as you realized just how much this evening—and this moment—meant to him as well.

You also promised to yourself that you would make the first move to him tonight. With a determined yet gentle resolve, you leaned in closer, your heart pounding in your chest.

"Lando," you began softly, gazing into his eyes, "I want this to be a memory we both cherish forever too."

After thoroughly exploring every nook and cranny of the luxurious yacht, the two of you found yourselves drawn to the expansive deck, where the horizon was ablaze with the colors of the setting sun.

The sky transformed into a canvas of oranges, pinks, and purples, casting a warm glow over the water.

"Isn’t this just perfect?" you remarked, leaning against the railing and taking in the breathtaking view.

Lando, with a smile that lit up his face, nodded in agreement. “I can’t think of a better way to end the day,” he replied, his eyes sparkling with excitement.

With the large, plush couch inviting you to sink into its comfort, you both had ample space to stretch out. However, instead of sprawling out, you chose to sit on Lando’s lap, feeling the warmth radiating from him.

"You’re so cozy," you teased, wrapping your arms around his neck. He chuckled softly, his fingers gently tracing patterns on your back.

"I could get used to this," he said, his voice low and playful. As you began to massage his head, your fingers weaving through his curls, you pressed soft kisses on his hair, relishing the intimacy of the moment.

"You know, I could stay here forever," you whispered, feeling the world around you fade away.

Lando looked up at you, his expression a mix of affection and mischief. “Forever is a long time, but I wouldn’t mind if it meant more sunsets like this with you,” he replied, his eyes locking onto yours.

You felt a flutter in your chest at his words, the connection between you deepening. “Let’s make a pact then,” you suggested, a playful grin spreading across your face. “Every sunset for this break, we find a cozy spot and just enjoy each other’s company.”

He laughed, nodding. “Deal! But only if I get to sit on your lap next time,” he countered, his playful tone making you giggle. . . .

As the sun began to dip below the horizon, casting a warm golden hue across the gentle waves, you found yourself nestled comfortably in Lando's lap on the deck of his sleek yacht, the subtle sway of the boat only adding to the intoxicating atmosphere.

You could hardly remember how you had crossed the line from innocent flirting to this moment, where your lips tangled and your breaths mingled under the fading light. It felt like a long time coming, a slow build-up of longing and unspoken words that finally erupted in a passionate kiss.

Lando smirked, his famous charm practically radiating off him, and he leaned in close, his breath warm against your ear as he teasingly whispered, “I think you and I have been waiting for this for ages." His hands began to travel across your back, fingers barely grazing your skin, igniting a fire within you that was both thrilling and comforting.

"Is this really happening?” you asked, half-mesmerized by the way his touch sent shivers down your spine.

“I mean, one moment we were only hands, and now…” you trailed off, a mix of disbelief and excitement coursing through me.

Lando chuckled softly, his hands finding a firmer grip on your waist as he pulled you closer, your bodies fitting perfectly together as if they were always meant to be this way.

“Did you only want to hold hands, though?” he questioned, a playful glint in his deep-set eyes. “I’ve always thought there was something more, something bubbling under the surface, waiting for the right moment to explode.”

His words hung in the air, wrapping around you like the gentle sea breeze, and you felt a surge of confidence at his unfiltered honesty.

You let out a breathy laugh, captivated by the moment as you brushed a loose strand of hair behind your ear, your heart racing in synchrony with the rhythm of the waves.

“Are you saying this was all a part of your master plan?” you teased, playfully raising an eyebrow at him.

Lando leaned back slightly, giving you that signature lopsided grin that made your heart flutter. “Master plan? More like a series of happy accidents,” he quipped. “But if I’m being honest, I wanted to kiss you the moment we first met. You were just too busy trying to keep up with the racing jokes.”

You rolled your eyes dramatically, but your heart swelled at his words, realizing how much energy and chemistry had been humming between us all along.

"Well," you replied, resting your forehead against his, "I guess it's a good thing we finally figured it out.

As you settle onto Lando’s lap, a surge of exhilaration runs through you, a mix of the salty breeze from the ocean and the intoxicating smell of sunscreen layered with his cologne.

His eyes, a vivid shade of green, spark with mischief as they meet yours, and a sense of weightlessness seems to blanket the world around you. Moments later, he leans in closer, the heat radiating from his body enveloping you like a warm wave, and without a word, his lips find yours.

You can taste the slight tang of the sea on his mouth, a delicious contrast to the sweet sensation of his kiss.

The world around you fades and the gentle lapping of the water against the yacht become a distant echo; you’re completely absorbed in this captivating moment of connection.

As the kiss deepens, you feel Lando’s tongue dance playfully with yours, each movement sparking a thrilling anticipation that sends shivers down your spine.

You can’t help but pull him closer, wrapping your arms around his neck and feeling the sinewy strength in his shoulders. With every little touch, every brush of his lips, the air seems to vibrate with the unspoken electricity between you.

The world is no longer defined by the yacht or the party behind you; it’s merely the two of you, lost in a fleeting paradise where nothing else matters.

Suddenly, you can feel his hands roaming on your back, and you giggle softly against his lips, teasing him, “You’re not supposed to distract me like this!”

He chuckles in response, his breath warm against your skin, "But how can I resist?"

Just as the kiss begins to take on a more fervent intensity, Lando finds a delicate gap in your dress, his fingers exploring the bare skin of your waist with a confident, gentle caress. The sensation ignites a fire within you, every glide of his fingertips a tantalizing reminder of your shared connection.

“Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?” he murmurs between kisses, his voice low and sincere, causing your heart to race.

You smile against him, feeling bold and cherished; “Only when I’m with you,” you reply, feeding the warmth that envelops the two of you.

The embrace seems to stretch into eternity, every kiss and touch intensifying the chemistry that crackles in the summer air, leaving you both intoxicated by the moment and eager for what lies ahead on this magical, sun-kissed day. . . .

Just moments earlier, you had shared a soft, lingering kiss, a tender connection that made your heart race, leaving you momentarily breathless.

"Wow, I didn’t know you were such a great kisser," you teased while gazing into his captivating blue eyes, feeling the flutter of excitement bubbling within you as laughter escaped your lips.

Lando chuckled softly, his gaze locking onto yours with a seriousness that took you aback, his fingers gently brushing a stray lock of hair behind your ear.

As the wind tousled your hair and the sounds of waves crashing against the yacht faded into the background, Lando looked at you with an intensity that made your pulse quicken.

"I’ve been thinking about this for a while," he began, his voice steady yet laced with a hint of vulnerability, "and I just can’t keep it to myself any longer. I thought of making a speech but that doesn't sound like a thing I would do so I thought I was just freestyle it. Y/N, you've made me so happy ever since I've met you, you've made me read more books, you've changed my life entirely and I'm grateful for your existence with everyday that passes by."

The playful banter dwindled, and an anticipatory silence enveloped you both as he continued. "Will you be my girlfriend and make the happiest man in the world?"

His question hung in the air, the weight of it leaving you utterly shocked, your mind racing as your heart skipped a beat. You stared at him, the world around you blurring into a hazy backdrop as those words echoed in your mind.

Was this really happening?

Your heart filled with joy and disbelief, and you found yourself momentarily lost in the depths of his ever-watchful eyes, torn between excitement and an overwhelming sense of surprise.

Taking a deep breath to steady yourself, you finally managed to respond, the corners of your mouth curving into a smile, though your heart was still racing.

"You really know how to throw a girl off balance, don’t you?" you replied, your voice slightly teasing yet laced with genuine affection. "That's quite the unexpected question, Lando. I mean, I thought we were just having fun on this beautiful yacht, enjoying the sunset."

You felt the blush rising to your cheeks as you remembered the kiss, your heart still hammering. "But, you know," you continued, looking deep into his eyes, trying to gauge the sincerity of his proposal, "I’ve definitely been feeling something special between us."

"but yes, of course I will be your girlfriend. I've been waiting for you to ask the question for weeks now," you said, smiling at how shocked Lando looked at your responce.

"Really? I thought it would be inappropriate to ask so quickly," Lando explained shyly, his cheeks turning red for a second.

"Aww Lando you're such a gentleman!" you said, melting at his words and pressing a kiss on his cheek as a reward. "You definitely deserve a treat after this,"

"I'm all yours," Lando smirked, his hands up in 'surrender' but you knew it wasn't going to take long for his hands to get back on your body. . . .

894 notes · View notes

kitten4sannie · 6 months ago

Text

for love of the game

pairing: pitcher! wooyoung x batter! reader (fem) x teammate! yunho

genres: college baseball au, enemies to fuckbuddies, best friends to fuckbuddies, smut

summary: jung wooyoung, a pitcher with a fearsome curveball, and your self-proclaimed enemy since the beginning of the playoffs, is beyond determined to show you that he is in fact, on top. Yunho, your close friend and reliable teammate, will do everything in his power to watch it all go down.

w.c: 5k (2k words of plot bc i can ✨ the rest is filth tho i promise <3)

warnings: tobacco/vape usage, nasty mean dom! wooyo, perverted subby puppyboy! yuyu, bratty bitch in the streets, subby slut in the sheets! reader, yuyu has a horsecock, implied brat taming, brief choking, mxm, one single slap and spank, cuckholding, pet names/name calling, praise/degradation, humiliation kink, dirty talk, exhibitionism/voyeurism, brief breath play, oral (giving/receiving), masturbation, yuyu sucks cock, thigh fucking, cum eating, deep-throating, spit kink, hair tugging, breeding kink (would it be a kitten4sannie fic without it? idt so 💅🏼), unprotected sex, creampies, dumbification

a/n: hey batter, batter~~ ughhh i’ve been itching to write this ever since they went to their first dodger game 🥺 i had an unusual amount of fun writing this as you’ll be able to tell eeheheheh (≧∀≦) anygaysss i hope you enjoy this hater x hater x nasty bsf fantasy ✨

song recs: siren by ateez - new girl by finneas - knock me out by miyavi - heaven and back by chase atlantic

“You ready for today’s game, Y/N?” Yunho, your teammate and closest personal friend outside of baseball, asked you inquisitively, one of his large hands rubbing into the tense muscle of your shoulder, using the other to send a tactical text message to someone.

When you weren’t training, working out, or competing in your college team’s playoff games, you were hanging out in Yunho’s frat house, watching him get his ass handed to him in League. You both had a simple, easy going relationship, one that consisted of chill kickbacks and drunken shenanigans, with the occasional exchange of longing glances, lingering touches, and perhaps an adrenaline induced fuck or two, or three before and after one of your games — but who were you to decipher what your relationship status was? You had your future career to focus on.

“Am I ready? Yun, I came out the pussy ready for this fucking game,” you replied vulgarly, bringing your water bottle up to your lips to take a few sips, smiling crookedly up at your tall friend over the shoulder he was keenly massaging.

“That’s what I like to hear, baby,” Yunho chimed proudly, shoving his phone into his back pocket so that he could use both of his hands on your shoulders, doing his best to loosen up your muscles with his long, slender fingers.

“I’m not your baby, but maybe I would be if you stopped solo-queuing as Braum every time you hop on League.” You couldn’t help but let out a few groans from the pressure he was using on you, hoping that his massage would aid you in the powerful swings you would have to make during the next seven innings. “I’m tired of watching you get ass fucked every round.”

“You wanna go for a few rounds next time then? I wouldn’t mind watching you get wrecked,” Yunho mumbled into your ear, glancing across the dugout at the other team, before he let go of you and sat down next to his rowdy teammates, joining in on the competition to see whose thighs could take up the most space on the crowded bench.

“Yeah, I bet, you degenerate. Oh, you know what else you can watch?” you retorted, pretending to reach into one of your pockets and pulling out nothing, simply holding your middle finger up to Yunho. Your best friend quickly mirrored your unique display of affection, leading the both of you to giggle and smile at each other for a little too long, before you decided to sit down as well and conserve your energy.

During the typical pre-game announcements, you found yourself not being able to get comfortable like you usually could. It was off-putting, to say the least. There was nothing unusual going on. The sky was nice and clear, the wind blew a cool breeze across the exposed skin of your neck, right in between your pulled-up hair and the collar of your softball uniform. Your teammates were all stretching their limbs, shooting the shit, eagerly chewing nicotine gum, or spitting out tobacco juice into empty water bottles. All was right in the world, yet you couldn’t seem to stop bouncing your thigh, your cleats repeatedly digging deeper marks into the dirt below. That was when you felt the intensity of someone’s eyes boring into you.

“Yo, baby, you got some chew on you?” someone with an irritatingly smug, yet distinctly familiar voice asked you from the other side of the snug dugout.

You immediately stood up from your seat, turning your head in the direction of the voice, just in time for you to come face to face with the Devil himself.

Jung Wooyoung, a pitcher with a fearsome curveball, and your self-proclaimed enemy since the beginning of the playoffs, was casually leaning down against the small metal fence that separated your teams, looking up at you through the yellow lenses of his sunglasses.

“Do I look like the type to put that nasty shit in my mouth?” you immediately snapped, taking a few steps in his direction, not realizing how hard you were squeezing your plastic water bottle until it began to audibly crunch inside your tight grasp. “Huh?”

Wooyoung licked at the mole on his chapped bottom lip, his canines becoming visible when he smiled cockily at you. He missed his favorite plaything. You were so easy to rile up. It made his already tight pinstripe pants even tighter. “Mm, but you’ve put nastier things in your mouth, haven’t you, baby?”

Scoffing, you placed your hands on your soft hips, shaking your head, pretending his perverse words didn’t make your cheeks feel like they were already sunburnt, wanting to put up more of a front, now that your entire team was possibly listening in. “You would know a thing or two about that, wouldn’t you, Wooyoung? The handjobs you give your team aren’t doing enough for you these days, huh?”

Wooyoung did his best to ignore the snickers and whispers of your team, taking his cap off to run his fingers through his silky raven hair, biting the corner of his lip all the while. “People talk in the locker rooms, you know. They say you really know your way around a cock. Probably from all that practice you get with your teammates, yeah?” He looked over to Yunho, who sheepishly smiled at him. “You can vouch for me, can’t you, Yun?” The batter remained quiet out of fear of your wrath.

Wooyoung was about to say more, when his vision was suddenly blurred by something cold. You had offered him mercy, dumping the rest of your water on the pitcher’s head, rather than shoving the entire bottle up his ass like you desperately wanted to. Instead of blowing up on you and embarrassing himself like you had hoped he would, Wooyoung simply flipped his hair back and put his cap back on, resulting in a few squeals from some nearby fangirls that were sitting in the stands. “If getting me hard was the goal, you succeeded, Y/N.”

You grimaced. “You’re fucking disgusting, Wooyoung.”

Wooyoung reached over the fence to push a few loose strands of hair behind your ear. “But, you love it, don’t you? That’s why you’re so obsessed with me.”

“You should be obsessed with me. Maybe if you paid attention, you could figure out how to pitch a ball that I won’t knock out of the goddamn stadium.”

You irked Wooyoung to no end, your equally quick-witted jabs getting underneath the pitcher’s tan skin. However, he wouldn’t let you have the satisfaction of seeing that, unless hell itself froze over. “And if you paid attention, maybe your team would actually make it past the playoffs.”

That was when a vein visibly began to bulge out of your temple, your jaw tensing. Wooyoung had struck a nerve. You knew it, he knew it, and your team definitely knew it. You’d give anything to make it to the championship game, but it was always just barely out of reach. The fact that Wooyoung would stoop so incredibly low had your blood boiling. You wanted nothing more than to grab the smug pitcher by his collar and spit directly in his face, but you were afraid that he would enjoy that more than you would have. So, instead you simply accepted defeat in that moment and sat back down on the bench, staring ahead at the expansive baseball field.

You were too caught up in your own furious thoughts to notice that Yunho had left the spot he had taken up on the bench, instead leaning on the same fence Wooyoung had been chilling on just moments ago.

“Your girl’s feisty, Yun. I fucking love it. She seems like she bites. Does she bite?” Wooyoung prodded the taller man, just as he pulled a vape out of his pocket and took a long hit, causally blowing out the smoke into Yunho’s face.

Yunho waved the vapor away, shaking his head slightly. “She’s not mine, but yeah, she bites. She…does a lot of things.”

Wooyoung hummed in response, smiling like he knew something no one else did, his eyes shifting from the crowd, to his teammates who smiled back at him, then back up at Yunho. “She’s not yours, but she lets you hit, doesn’t she?”

“She does…She’s just very...rough.” Yunho bit his lip, thinking about how ferociously you would ride his cock in the empty locker rooms after the games you would ultimately lose, remembering all the love bites and scratches you littered his broad body in, knowing you wouldn’t let him go until you left his cock raw and so sensitive he was ready to cry. He was more of a softie himself, a good boy, if you will, not exactly cut out for the animalistic sex you required after such a brutal loss. Wooyoung, however, seemed more fit for that. In fact, Yunho felt his throat go dry just imagining the two of you going at it in such a way, especially in front of him. That was allowed, right?

“Yunho.” Wooyoung took another long puff from his vape, using his free hand to take his glasses off and placing them over the brim of his baseball cap.

“Yeah?”

Wooyoung reached up to place his hand on Yunho’s tense shoulder, massaging his digits into it to loosen up the muscle. “I got a proposition for you. If your team wins today, you get to fuck a happy, calm Y/N. She’ll probably even blow you without expecting anything back. Who knows, she might even swallow.”

Yunho unconsciously licked his lips, glancing back over the shoulder Wooyoung was massaging into to admire your pretty face, even if it was contorted with rage-filled determination. He slowly looked back down at the pitcher. “And, if your team wins?”

Wooyoung grinned deviously, licking at one of his sharp canines. “I get to put that pretty slut in her place.”

The first locker in your sight was the main recipient of your bubbling anger, the side of your bat making contact with the metal, incidentally leaving an indent. “Motherfucker!” you shouted to no one inside the empty women’s locker room, tossing the bat down the long hallway, not bothering to watch it roll along the ground until it was stopped by someone’s dusty cleat.

You threw your baseball cap into your crowded locker along with your balled up, button-up shirt once you pulled it off of your torso. You then pressed your hands into the cool metal, staring at your angry, sweaty reflection in the locker door mirror, huffing and puffing. “How could you strike out to a bitch like him? Do better,” you told yourself, your hands forming fists.

Wooyoung cleared his throat, making his presence known, taking slow steps down the hallway with his hands in his pockets, happily chewing on a piece of gum. “I knew you were a sore loser, but I didn’t know it was this bad.”

“Are you lost, Wooyoung? This is the women’s locker room, and last time I checked you don’t have a pussy,” you spat in his direction, reaching down to unbutton your pants.

“You wanna check for me, baby? I might not be hung like Yunho, but I’ll still be able to pump you full of cum. A slutty little cleat chaser like you would love that, huh?” Wooyoung mused vulgarly, leaning against the lockers, lowering his tinted glasses to leer at your half-naked body.

You didn’t look at Wooyoung for too long, knowing you might kill him, or fuck him raw, if you did, now that jealousy-fueled rage was flowing through your veins.

A shower would probably help cool you down. Help you think straight. On the other hand, a nice, thick cock drilling into you wouldn’t solve all your problems, but it sure would help, even if it was your sworn enemy who was servicing you. Instead of replying, you simply shimmied out of your tight, dust-covered pants and stepped out of them, bringing a foot up onto the bench to stretch out your sore, bruise-ridden legs, deeply annoyed that you slid to so many bases just to lose anyway.

Wooyoung’s throat ran dry, his gaze suddenly fixated on the g-string that formed to the curves of your hips, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down upon the sight of the thin string tightly cupping your cunt as you bent down to massage your fingers into your thighs and calves. “Fuck, is that a thong? You usually don’t wear anything…”

“What does it look like, dumbass?” you snapped, before turning on your heels in the opposite direction, looking back at him over your shoulder. Chuckling softly at the tent that formed inside his pants, you reached back to unclasp your bra, letting it drop to the floor, prior to heading into the open shower room, very aware of the fact that Wooyoung was following close behind you like a eager, drooling puppy, smirking at the sounds of shuffling and grunting, the pitcher’s clothes hitting the tile floor on the way. Wooyoung talked a big game, but at the end of the day, he was just a man, and you took pride in knowing you had that power over him, even if you didn’t have it on the field.

“Hey, does having something rubbing against your pussy help you play better, Y/N? Or do you just like getting wet in front of all those men like the whore you are?” Wooyoung asked near your ear, watching you turn the shower handle to the right until a steady stream of warm water began to pour onto the both of you, waiting for you to turn around so that he could slip his twitching fingers under the thong straps that clung to your hips and pulled them up just to watch your pussy lips slip out past the thin material, making the pitcher groan.

“Did you come here just to slut shame me, Wooyoung?” You pressed your back into the cold tile wall behind you, goosebumps forming on your bare, heated skin, looking up at him past your wispy lashes, an amalgamation of intense hatred and lust sitting just beneath the surface of your piercing gaze. “Or did you come here to fuck me?”

Wooyoung groaned at your bold words, pressing one of his hands onto the wall near your head, the other cupping your slick cunt, his lips just barely ghosting yours. “I didn’t just come here to fuck you, princess. I came here to ruin you.”

“Then, ruin me,” you reiterated, grabbing Wooyoung by a tuft of his wet hair, your teeth and tongues clashing together in an instant.

Once Wooyoung was satisfied with the amount of spit he had swallowed, he pulled back, simply placing one hand on the top of your head and forcefully pushing you down until you got the hint.

You were mad at yourself for being unable to resist getting on your knees for a cocky prick like Wooyoung, so you simply glared up at him, trying to pretend you didn’t notice his stiff, thick cock standing at attention in front of your face. “When I said ruin me, I meant my cunt. You think I’m just gonna suck you off because you pushed my head down? It’s bold of you to assume I won’t bite.”

“Don’t be a brat, Y/N. I won today, so I deserve special treatment, don’t I?” Wooyoung argued, squinting his eyes at you once you began grimacing up at his erection, his fingers wrapping around your hair to create a makeshift ponytail. “Maybe if you didn’t strike out so many times, I would be the one on my knees, devouring that pretty cunt of yours.”

“Shut the fuck up…” you murmured, squeezing your thighs together, not understanding why someone like Wooyoung had so much power over you.

“That’s not very nice of you to say, princess.” Wooyoung reached down with his free hand to hold the base of his cock, tapping the leaking tip against your lips, smearing his pre-cum over them in the process. “How about we put that dirty mouth of yours to better use, yeah?”

Afraid he was late to the show after being forced to do an interview with the local college, Yunho quickly made his way into the women’s locker room, almost slipping on the bat you left on the floor as he followed the sounds of breathy groans, gurgled moans, and running water that were echoing from the showers. He almost fell to his knees at the sight of his best friend taking cock down her throat. You were a complete mess, streaks of mascara running down your flushed cheeks, strands of milky saliva dribbling down past your swollen lips, along your bulging throat, and onto your tits, your nose routinely making contact with Wooyoung’s pelvis. Yunho didn’t even know you could deep-throat cock with so much ease.

Leaning against the opposite side of the shower room, Yunho desperately began to palm at his stiff, leaking length through the baggy gray sweatpants that hung loosely from his hips, his cheeks and ears growing red once he caught your teary gaze.

You reached in between your trembling thighs, trying to relieve the deep ache inside your dripping cunt by filling it with two of your fingers, letting out a choked moan when Wooyoung roughly smacked the side of your cheek.

“Did I say you could touch yourself? You’re my cocksleeve right now. You don’t get to play with your cunt, dumb whore,” Wooyoung grunted, letting go of your hair to pinch your nose when you wouldn’t stop finger-fucking yourself, keeping his cock lodged deep inside your throat, cutting off your only source to oxygen.

“M-mmnfff…!” you whimpered, your brain starting to feel delightfully fuzzy around the edges, getting an instant head high from not being able to breathe. You waited until the very last second to stop playing with yourself, suddenly grabbing onto Wooyoung’s hips and squeezing them tightly, begging him for mercy with your watery eyes.

Wooyoung immediately pulled his cock out of your mouth and slapped it down onto your face as a further attempt to humiliate you in front of your friend. “What a dirty slut…” He began to jerk himself off, rubbing his reddened cockhead against your parted lips. “I want you to listen to me. Once I cum inside your mouth, you’re not going to swallow, got it?”

Wiping the excess saliva from your face, you nodded your head obediently, gazing up at him with half-lidded eyes, knowing Yunho was just a few feet away from you, but too distracted by the thick, leaking cock right in front of your face. “Cum, please…”

Yunho didn’t realize how much he was getting off on being ignored by the two of you until he finally freed his cock from his stained sweatpants and jerked himself off directly, thick globs of pre-cum pouring down the side of his heavy length, breathy, whiny moans escaping from his drooling mouth, his glasses starting to fog up.

“Brainless for me already, hm? What a good girl. Now, show me your tongue,” Wooyoung whispered, taking advantage of the situation and sending a few strings of spit down onto it as soon as you held out your tongue. When he watched you swallow it immediately, your thighs squeezing together right after, Wooyoung tossed his head back and let out a long guttural groan, pressing his cockhead against your tongue just in time for spurts of hot cum to shoot out of it.

Ready to cum untouched from being used solely for Wooyoung’s pleasure, you carefully closed your mouth, not letting any of his hot load spill out, but not swallowing it down either, as much as you wanted to.

Wooyoung reached down to run his fingers through your wet hair, admiring the mess of pre-cum and spit you had on your face, smiling at you with his canines on display. “Spit out my cum onto your fingers and fuck it into that whore-hole of yours. You wanted to play with yourself, didn’t you? Now’s your chance, princess.”

Shocked by Wooyoung’s perverted request, you simply looked up at him with wide eyes, looking like a hamster with the way your cheeks were currently puffed out and filled with his cum.

“Go on, baby. Don’t be shy. Show Yunho why you have a reputation of being such a shameless cumslut with the guys on my team,” Wooyoung encouraged breathily, gently patting one of your filled cheeks, a few dribbles of milkiness leaking out past your lips.

Yunho’s eyes left the soaking mess in between your thighs for a second to meet your embarrassed gaze, coming to terms with this new information. Not only did you fuck him after your losses, but you took the time to fuck the winning team, even after Yunho had filled your womb with countless loads. You really were a slut. Yunho became so hard, he grew a bit dizzy.

“F-fine, but don’t stare…” you murmured sheepishly, as if you hadn’t been ran through by both of their teams before. The men in question watched with bated breath as you let the milky load drip onto your fingers, letting out little gasps when they quickly disappeared all the way inside you, your cunt making obscene squelching sounds each time you pushed them in and out.

“You’re so filthy…I think I’m in love,” Wooyoung sighed dreamily, reaching down to clutch your jaw with his slender fingers. He smiled keenly at your contorted expression, enjoying the sound of your whiny moans. “What’s wrong, princess? Are you going to cum just from being a filthy whore? Does it feel that good knowing you're breeding yourself with my load? Mm, and it feels even better knowing that Yunho is watching you be my pretty little cum dump, huh?”

“S-so good, I might…ffffuck…” Once your heated gaze returned to your best friend, Yunho began to seize up at the same time as you, painting his plain black t-shirt with ropes of cum just as your milky release poured onto the tile floor below.

Wooyoung simply chuckled in amusement, before turning his head to face his longtime friend just in time to see him wiping thick streaks of cum off of his long, softened length. “Did you just bust a nut from watching Y/N try to impregnate herself?”

“Y-yes.” Blushing, Yunho adjusted his glasses out of habit, now that he wasn’t wearing his contacts, pulling at the sleeve of his hoodie now that his two favorite people were looking at him like they wanted to devour him.

“You’re just as dirty as she is.” Wooyoung smiled idly, positioning himself behind you so that your back pressed into his chest, slowly spreading you wide open for all three of you to see just how pink your soaked slit was. “Hey, Yun. You hungry?”

“Very,” your teammate replied quickly, licking at his lips, already finding himself on his knees before you, ready to start panting in true golden retriever fashion.

“You don’t mind if Yun eats out your pretty, cum-stuffed cunt, do you, baby?” Wooyoung asked you, leaning over to nip at your jaw, pinching your swollen clit just to hear the cute sound you made for him.

Just as you gave them the go-ahead, your teammate buried his face in between your thighs, appreciating how Wooyoung spread you open further with his thumbs, eagerly lapping at the milky liquid that slowly began to drip out of you.

“What a good puppy,” Wooyoung praised, growing hard and harder the longer he watched Yunho desperately slurp up the tangy mixture into his drooling mouth, slipping his cock in between your soft, sweaty thighs, appreciating the warmth they provided. “Do you like the way my cum tastes, Yun?”

“Tasches scho good, Woo,” Yunho replied with his mouth full, dragging his dripping tongue up and over your puffy cunt over and over, idly kneading his fingers into the sides of your thighs.

Groaning, Wooyoung began to fuck the tight space in between your thighs, the underside of his cock rubbing deliciously against your pussy, making you moan even louder than you were before. “You wanna taste it from the source, Yun? Huh? You want a taste of my cock?”

Yunho nodded quickly, having to push down his own stiff length from the way it was poking into his abdomen. Drooling, he watched how Wooyoung pulled you just a little farther back against his body, until Yunho had access to his friend’s leaking cock, immediately wrapping his lips around the reddened tip and noisily slurping on it.

“Oh, fuck yeah,” Wooyoung moaned out, clutching one of your hips tightly, snaking the other one around your waist to begin flicking and rubbing your clit, looking down over your shoulder to watch his friend fervently suck and lick at his cock each time he thrusted himself between your closed, trembling thighs, a combination of his pre-cum and your wetness dirtying Yunho’s foggy glasses. “I’m gonna fucking cum all over your face, Yun. Gonna make Y/N squirt all over it too.”

“Give it to me, please…” he panted, dragging his tongue up from Wooyoung’s twitching tip, along your pulsing cunt, and up over your clit, licking fervently at it when Wooyoung lifted your hood up to expose it completely. Yunho was so desperate to chase his high, he almost didn’t register that he had begun to hump against your leg like a dog in heat, leaving streaks of sticky pre-cum on your skin.

“Good puppy, fuck, you’re such a good boy, Yuyu,” you praised your teammate whinily, desperately rubbing your cunt all over his tongue until your knees felt like they were about to buckle, Wooyoung’s veiny cock running along your slit from below sending you over the edge.

“Wet this puppy’s face with your squirt, baby. Now,” Wooyoung growled into your ear, biting on the side of it just as he roughly pinched your clit, thrusting forward in between your thighs one more time, only for his sensitive tip to be met with Yunho’s agile tongue, his eyes rolling back when his friend lapped over and into the slit.

Right as your arousal began to squirt onto Yunho’s flushed face, Wooyoung’s cock twitched up into your cunt, his hot load shooting out onto your teammate’s tongue, a few spurts landing onto his glasses.

When Yunho was about to cum from rubbing himself all over your leg, he suddenly didn’t have access to it, causing him to look up and whimper. Licking at the cum and squirt on his lips, his honey brown eyes widened at the both of you, his pupils blown wide.

Wooyoung had lifted up your trembling thighs so that they were pressed into either side of you, your body folded up like a paper doll, his hardened cock already slipping in and out of your soaking cunt. Chuckling at your breathless moans and whines, he dragged his tongue up and over your jaw, humming at the taste of your salty skin. “You’ve been waiting to get pounded like this, yeah? Because no one uses this pretty body like I do…huh? You’re so spoiled now.”

“It’s all your fault,” you gasped out in between moans, reaching your arm back to hold onto Wooyoung’s neck, turning your head so that your lips ghosted along the side of his panting mouth. “Please cum inside, Woo, please, I need it.”

Wooyoung squeezed his fingers into the underside of your thighs, bucking his hips roughly up into you. “God, I love when I turn you into my little breeding bitch.” He turned his head so that he could bite at your bottom lip, groaning, “Get ready to retire, baby. I’m gonna knock you up.”

Yunho thought he was going to lose his goddamn mind from witnessing the display of dominance and submission that was taking place directly above him. Wooyoung was completely controlling your body, ruthlessly fucking up into you, one hand tugging at your hair, the other wrapped around your neck, a small bulge routinely becoming visible within your lower abdomen with each thrust and every he made into your stretched cunt. It seemed like neither of you could even remember that Yunho was there, right below you, until he began to eagerly lick at the slick, milky space where your heated, sticky bodies routinely made contact.

You both moaned at the pleasurable sensation, your pulsing lower halves beginning to grow extremely heavy. “Yuyuuu, that feels so good,” you whimpered, angling your head down to gaze lovingly at Yunho, reaching your hand down to ruffle his sweaty hair.

Growling, Wooyoung grabbed you by the chin and shoved his tongue down your throat, forcibly bouncing you up and down on his cock. Your teary eyes never closed, and never left Yunho’s, even when you began to cum for Wooyoung, your release spilling out into your dear teammate’s open mouth and onto his lolled-out tongue. Just when Yunho thought he couldn’t get any harder, you began to cry out a cuter version of Wooyoung’s name once he really started to drill his pulsing cock into your sensitive cunt, the twinges of jealousy Yunho felt only contributing to his need to witness his friend unload himself into you.

Wooyoung pressed his forehead against yours, his sharp eyes boring into yours. “You look at me when you take my load, baby. I don’t care if your little boyfriend is watching me fuck you stupid,” he demanded, smacking his palm roughly into the side of your ass, making you squeak out in pleasurable pain.

“Yes, Youngie,” you breathed out, your eyebrows drawing closer once your bottom half began to grow heavier and heavier, not knowing if you were truly capable of cumming for the nth time.

“What a good girl…Open your mouth for me…” Sighing softly, he caught his dripping saliva on your tongue with his own and slid it into your open mouth, the both of you letting out muffled moans as he spilled inside you once again. He broke the sloppy kiss to look down over your shoulder, admiring how his load began to slip out past his softening cock, dripped down past his balls, and landed onto Yunho’s fucked-out face. He smiled darkly at the dried spurts of cum Yunho left on his t-shirt and stained sweatpants. “Baby, look at the mess puppy made…”

You licked at your lips, both you and Wooyoung just about devouring your teammate with your lustful gazes alone. “Oh, Yuyu. Look what you’ve done to yourself. Poor, sweet puppy just wants to feel good, doesn’t he?”

Yunho bit his bottom lip, looking up at the both of you with half-closed, watery eyes, completely at your combined mercy. “Y-yeah. More, please.”

You and Wooyoung exchanged lecherous glances, knowing neither of you would be able to stop, especially not when you had such a perfect new companion to play with. Despite all the odds, you and your rival had finally come to a truce, and, of course, came to the conclusion that you’d be tag teaming Yunho until you would have to get ready for softball practice the next morning.

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lifeofpriya · 3 months ago

Text

I Mean It - Franco Colapinto

[gif credit goes to @argentinagp]

summary: your friendship with franco takes a surprising turn when his protective instincts kick in...

"Oh god, it's Chad again," you murmur under your breath, watching him stumble towards you with his friends in tow.

"Who's that?" asks Franco, not taking his eyes off the road. His grip on the steering wheel tightens almost imperceptibly.

You roll your eyes, the neon lights from the street outside flickering in the car's cabin. "Chad. He's had a thing for me since high school, but I've never given him the time of day."

Franco's eyes flick to the rearview mirror, catching your reflection. "Well, maybe he just needs to realize you're not interested." His voice is calm, but there's an undercurrent of something else—concern, perhaps.

You sigh, watching Chad and his entourage draw closer to the car. "I've told him plenty of times, but he's like a bad penny."

Franco's jaw clenches as he shifts gears. The engine purrs beneath you, a comforting sound in the growing tension. "Why don't you let me handle it?"

You glance at him, surprised by his protective tone. "It's okay, I can handle it."

But as Chad knocks on the window, his leering smile plastered across his face, you feel a shiver of fear. You've dealt with this before, but something about the way he's looking at you tonight sends a chill down your spine.

Franco doesn't miss a beat. He rolls down the window, his eyes cold and sharp. "What do you want?" he asks, his Argentine accent more pronounced than usual.

Chad's smile falters, glancing from you to Franco and back again. "Just saying hi to my old classmate here," he slurs, gesturing towards you with a sloppy wave.

"Hi's been said," Franco replies curtly, his eyes never leaving Chad's. "Now if you don't mind, we're busy."

Chad's friends snicker, but his smile turns sour. He leans closer, the smell of alcohol heavy on his breath. "What's going on here, then? You two on a date?"

You tense, ready to speak, but Franco beats you to it. "It's none of your business what we're doing." His voice is even, but the muscles in his neck stand out, a clear sign of his growing irritation.

Chad's eyes narrow, his grip on the window frame tightening. "It is when they're with me," he sneers, his hand reaching for the car door.

Without hesitating, Franco's hand shoots out and grabs Chad's wrist, his grip firm and unyielding. "Back off," he warns, his voice a low growl. "Or you're going to regret it."

Chad's friends exchange uneasy glances, taking a step back. They hadn't seen this side of him before—the fierce, protective side that only emerged when someone threatened someone he cared about. You sit frozen in the passenger seat, heart racing.

"Take your hand off me," Chad spits, trying to pull away.

Franco's grip tightens, his eyes never leaving yours. "You heard me. Back. Off."

Chad tries to jerk his hand away, but Franco's hold is like steel. The unspoken message is clear: no one messes with you on his watch. Your heart skips a beat at the sight of his protective stance, and for a moment, all you can do is stare at the intertwined hands—Chad's meaty and desperate, Franco's firm and unwavering.

"You don't know who you're dealing with," Chad slurs, his voice shaking slightly.

Franco's eyes flick to Chad's face, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips. "Oh, I think I have a pretty good idea." He releases Chad's wrist and the other man stumbles back, almost falling.

Chad's friends grab his arms, whispering in his ear, trying to calm him down. His cheeks flush with a mix of alcohol and embarrassment. He glares at you before stumbling away, his words slurred and angry. "You'll regret this, you little tease."

Franco's gaze follows Chad until he's out of sight. Then, he turns to you, his expression softer. "You okay?" His hand reaches over to give your knee a gentle squeeze.

"I could have handled that myself, you know," you murmur, trying to regain your composure.

Franco's hand lingers on your knee for a moment before retreating back to the steering wheel. "I know," he says softly. "But I didn't like the way he was looking at you."

You nod, feeling a strange mix of emotions—gratitude, relief, and a flutter of something more. You've never seen Franco act like this before, not even when he's racing against the clock. "Thanks for that," you manage to say, your voice shakier than you'd like.

He nods, his eyes flicking back to the road. "No problem," he says, but you can see the tension in his jaw. He's not one to get involved in other people's drama, especially not like this. But there's something about you that makes him want to protect you, even though you've never talked about being more than friends.

The car rolls to a stop at a red light, and you both sit in silence, the hum of the engine the only sound. You can feel the warmth of his hand where it touched your knee, and you're suddenly very aware of how close you are. The chemistry between you has always been palpable, but this is the first time it's felt so intense.

The light turns green, and the car jolts forward. You clear your throat, trying to break the silence. "So, do you do that for all your friends?" you ask, trying to keep your voice light.

Franco glances at you, his eyes lingering for a moment. "Only the ones who are worth it," he says with a small smile.

You laugh nervously, your heart racing. The air in the car feels charged with something new. You both know there's a line that's been crossed tonight—a line you're not sure either of you is ready to talk about.

Franco's eyes flick to you again, a question in them. "Do you want me to take you home?" he asks.

You nod, the adrenaline from the encounter with Chad starting to wear off. The thought of being alone with him, in the quiet of the night, sends a thrill through you. "Yes, please."

The rest of the drive is tense, filled with the unspoken words hanging in the air. You can't help but steal glances at Franco, his strong profile silhouetted against the glow of the dashboard. His focus is solely on the road, but you can feel his eyes on you every now and then, checking if you're okay.

When he pulls up to your house, the engine's purr dies down to a gentle rumble. He puts the car in park but doesn't turn it off. The silence between you is thick, charged with the unspoken tension of the night's events.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Franco asks, his voice gentle but still holding a hint of the steel from earlier.

You nod, trying to ignore the way your stomach flutters when he looks at you with genuine concern. "Yeah, I'm fine. Thanks for, you know, not letting him ruin my night."

Franco smiles, his eyes searching yours. "You don't have to thank me for that." He pauses, his hand hovering over the ignition. "Do you want to talk about it?"

You shake your head. "Not really." The words tumble out before you can stop them. You're not ready to dissect the mess of emotions swirling inside you.

Franco nods, his hand dropping to his lap. "Okay." He takes a deep breath, his chest rising and falling in the dim light. "But if you ever need to talk, I'm here."

You appreciate his understanding, the sincerity in his voice. "I know," you murmur, reaching for the door handle. The cool night air seeps into the car as you open the door.

"Hey," he says, stopping you before you can step out. His hand grazes your arm, sending a shiver down your spine. "I mean it."

You look back at him, the intensity in his eyes making your heart race even faster. "Thanks," you murmur, feeling the weight of his words. You've known each other for years, but this is a side of Franco you haven't seen before—vulnerable, caring, and fiercely protective. It's intoxicating.

As you step out of the car, the cool evening air brushes against your flushed cheeks. You pause, glancing over your shoulder at him. "Would you, uh, want to come in for a bit?" You hadn't planned on asking, but the words just slip out.

Franco's eyes light up, a smile spreading across his face. "Yeah," he says, a hint of surprise in his voice. "I'd like that."

You lead him inside, the warm glow of your house a stark contrast to the dark, quiet street outside. The door clicks shut behind you, and suddenly, the air feels different—electric. You both know that this night has changed something between you, and you're both equally terrified and excited by it.

\\\

In the cozy living room, you offer him a seat on the couch. He sits, his movements deliberate and cautious, as if he's afraid to shatter the delicate moment. You sit opposite him in an armchair, the space between you feeling both vast and suffocatingly small.

You start with small talk, asking about his racing career, the upcoming races he's excited for, trying to keep the conversation light. He answers, his eyes never leaving yours, and you can see the excitement in them when he talks about his passion. But there's something else there too—an unspoken question, a silent plea for you to acknowledge the shift in your friendship.

As the conversation lulls, the air between you crackles with unspoken feelings. You bite your lip, wondering if you're reading too much into his protective behavior earlier. Maybe it was just a friend looking out for a friend.

Franco clears his throat, breaking the silence. "So, that guy," he says, his voice low. "What's the deal with him?"

You shrug, trying to play it cool. "He's just an old classmate who doesn't get the hint."

Franco's gaze intensifies, his eyes searching yours. "But he's more than that, isn't he?"

You swallow hard, noticing the way the shadows play across his face, highlighting his sharp cheekbones and the concern etched into his brow. "Yeah," you admit. "He's been bothering me for a while now."

Franco's jaw tenses, his hands clenching into fists on the armrest. "If he ever bothers you again, you tell me. I won't let him get away with it."

You nod, feeling the gravity of his promise. "I know."

Franco leans forward, closing the distance between you. "But I'm not just talking about Chad," he says, his voice dropping to a whisper. "I don't like seeing you upset or scared."

You look down at your hands, twisting in your lap. "I know," you reply, your voice barely above a murmur. "But it's not your problem to deal with."

"It is when it involves you," Franco insists, his eyes never leaving yours. "I care about you."

The words hang in the air, and you feel a rush of heat to your cheeks. You've had a crush on him for what feels like forever, but you've never dared to hope he felt the same way. "Franco…"

He takes a deep breath, his eyes searching yours. "I know we're just friends," he says, his voice a soft rumble. "But I can't ignore how I feel anymore."

You look up, your heart pounding in your chest. "How do you feel?" you ask, the question a whisper in the quiet room.

Franco leans closer, his hand reaching out to gently cup your cheek. "I think you know," he murmurs, his thumb tracing the line of your jaw.

You can't help but lean into his touch, your eyes closing for a brief moment. When you open them again, you find him staring at you with a look that makes your heart ache. "I've had feelings for you for a while now," he confesses, his voice a soft rumble. "But I didn't want to mess up what we have."

You swallow hard, trying to find the right words. "You wouldn't mess it up," you murmur, your voice barely audible. "I've had feelings for you too."

The confession hangs in the air, a silent acknowledgment of the tension that's been building between you for so long. Franco's hand lingers on your cheek, his thumb brushing over your skin as if memorizing every inch of you.

You lean closer, the space between your faces shrinking until you can feel his breath on your lips. "Then why did you wait so long?" you ask, your voice trembling slightly.

Franco's hand slides around the back of your neck, his thumb stroking your skin in a gentle, soothing motion. "I didn't know if you felt the same," he admits, his eyes searching yours for any sign of doubt or rejection. "I didn't want to ruin our friendship."

You lean into his touch, the warmth of his hand spreading through your body. "It's okay," you whisper. "I've felt the same way."

Franco's gaze lingers on your mouth, and you can see the moment he decides. He leans in, closing the gap between you. His lips are soft, tentative at first, as if asking for permission. You give it, your eyes fluttering shut as you lean into the kiss. The chemistry that's been simmering between you for so long ignites, sending sparks through your veins.

The kiss deepens, becoming more urgent, more needy. His other hand finds its way to your waist, pulling you closer, as if trying to erase the years of unspoken longing. You wrap your arms around his neck, your fingers tangling in his hair. The world outside the confines of the armchair fades away, leaving only the two of you.

As the kiss breaks, you both lean back, panting. The air is thick with anticipation, your hearts racing in sync. "I've wanted to do that for so long," you murmur, your voice hoarse with emotion.

Franco's eyes are dark with desire, his hand still resting on the back of your neck. "Me too," he whispers, his thumb caressing your skin in a gentle rhythm. "But I didn't want to push you."

You smile, feeling the warmth of his palm against your cheek. "You didn't push. I wanted it too."

Franco's smile widens, his eyes searching yours for any hint of doubt. Finding none, he leans in again, his lips brushing against yours in a soft caress that sends your heart racing. This time, the kiss is slower, more deliberate, as if he's savoring every moment.

You melt into him, feeling his warmth envelop you like a blanket on a cold night. His arms tighten around you, and you realize that you've never felt safer, more cherished. It's as if he's been waiting for this moment just as long as you have.

"I should have told you sooner," he whispers against your lips, regret lacing his words.

You shake your head, your heart hammering in your chest. "It's okay," you reply, your voice a breathy whisper. "We're here now."

Franco's arms tighten around you, his warmth seeping through your clothes. You press closer, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your palm, the comforting thud echoing in your ear. The weight of his confession settles on you, a warmth spreading through your body that has nothing to do with the heat of the moment.

You pull back slightly, needing to look into his eyes. "What happens now?" you ask, your voice a whisper in the quiet room.

Franco's gaze holds yours, filled with a vulnerability that makes your heart ache. "Whatever you want to happen," he says, his thumb tracing small circles on your cheek. "We take it slow, we talk, we figure it out."

You nod, your pulse racing. The idea of navigating a romantic relationship with your best friend is both exhilarating and terrifying. But the way he's looking at you now, with so much care and longing, makes it feel right. "Okay," you murmur, your voice barely above a breath.

Franco leans back, giving you some space. He takes a deep breath, his eyes searching yours. "I don't want to rush anything," he says, his voice steady. "But I can't ignore this anymore."

You nod, feeling a mix of excitement and fear. "Neither can I." The words feel like a confession, a secret you've held close for so long finally spilling out into the open.

He smiles, a soft, gentle smile that makes your heart flutter. "Good," he whispers, leaning in to kiss you again. This time, it's slower, more deliberate, as if he's committing every sensation to memory.

The kiss lingers, and when you finally pull away, you're both left breathless. The silence stretches out between you, filled with the unspoken promise of what's to come. You can feel your heart racing, your skin tingling from his touch.

"I should go," Franco says, his voice gruff. He doesn't move, though, his hand still cradling your cheek.

You nod, your heart racing. "Okay," you whisper, feeling a mix of disappointment and relief. You stand up, and he follows, his hand slipping away as you both regain your footing in the new reality of your relationship. The space between you feels charged, the air heavy with unspoken promises and the weight of what's to come.

#franco colapinto #franco colapinto imagine #franco colapinto imagines #franco colapinto fic #franco colapinto fics #franco colapinto x reader #f1 imagine #f1 imagines #f1 fic #f1 fics #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 imagines #formula 1 fic #formula 1 fics #williams racing

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rafecameronssl4t · 5 months ago

Note

omggg I have oneeee🤭

ALSO I LOVE YOUR FICS

so fmc is out with her bestfreinds, the kook boys- Kelce ,top and rafe for lunch and waiter Sofia attempting to flirt with rafe but our man only has eyes on his girl. ♥️ mc ends up teasing rafe after the incident cause of the attention he’s getting and rafe teasing her back asking her if she’s jealous hehe

Jealousy, Jealousy || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

A/n: half of me feels bad about Sofia in these type of fics but remember Rafe wants YOU and ONLY you 😋

Warnings: nothing really :)

Word count: 836

MASTERLIST

divider by @yoonitos

“She’s coming again,” Kelce muttered under his breath, nudging Rafe with a knowing smirk. Rafe fought the urge to roll his eyes, the annoyance evident in his tightened jaw. Topper chuckled, both he and Kelce watching as Sofia approached their table, her steps light and deliberate.

Her presence was unmistakable, and her eyes were locked onto Rafe. “Hey, anyone need another drink?” Sofia’s voice was bright and cheerful, but her gaze lingered on Rafe just a fraction too long.

He resolutely kept his eyes fixed straight ahead, focusing intently on a spot somewhere behind Kelce, refusing to give her the satisfaction of his attention.

Topper glanced at Rafe, sensing his discomfort, before answering for the group. “Nah, we’re all good here, thanks.” His tone was polite but firm. Sofia nodded, her smile unwavering. “All right, just let me know if you need anything.”

As she turned to leave, her eyes subtly drifted over Rafe, as if hoping for a reaction. Rafe’s frustration simmered just below the surface, and he couldn’t suppress a scoff. Fishing out his phone, he quickly texted you, his fingers tapping out the message with a mix of impatience and frustration.

From the moment they had arrived at the country club for lunch, Sofia had been constantly hovering around them, her attention mostly focused on Rafe. No matter how many hints he dropped about being content and committed to his relationship with you, she just didn’t seem to get it.

Rafe: When are you coming?

Y/n: In like 10 minutes!!!

Rafe let out a sigh of relief as he read your reply, his tension easing slightly. Shutting off his phone, he cast a hopeful glance towards the front entrance, silently wishing you would appear any second.

After about ten minutes, the front doors swung open, revealing you and Sarah. Engaged in lively conversation, the two of you walked through the entrance, laughter bubbling between you. Rafe’s face lit up at the sight, and he immediately stood up, making his way toward you with an eager smile.

As Rafe strode across the room, Sofia rounded a corner, her eyes lighting up as she saw him heading in her direction. “Hey, Rafe—” she began, her voice hopeful. But Rafe didn’t even glance her way, brushing past her without a second thought, his focus entirely on you. The smile on Sofia’s face faltered, her heart sinking as she turned to watch him.

“Hey, babe,” Rafe greeted you warmly, his hands finding their way to the back of your neck as he pulled you into a deep kiss. Sarah, standing beside you, rolled her eyes and let out a mock gag. “Jesus,” she muttered, shaking her head before wandering off to give you two some space.

You smiled into the kiss, feeling Rafe’s affection and urgency. Pulling away slightly, you chuckled. “What was that for?” you asked, your eyes twinkling with amusement as he peppered kisses along your cheek.

“Nothin’, just missed you,” Rafe mumbled against your skin, his voice low and filled with sincerity. You couldn’t help but giggle at his tenderness, feeling warmth spread through you.

With his arm wrapped securely around your back, Rafe guided you towards the table where his friends were seated. As you approached, Kelce and Topper exchanged knowing looks, smirking at Rafe’s obvious delight. Sofia, now back behind the bar, watched from a distance.

“Thank God you’re here,” Topper quipped as you approached, a grin spreading across his face. “I thought Rafe’s jaw would break from all the clenching he’s been doing.” You raised an eyebrow at him, then turned to Rafe, who was pointedly looking away. “Why? What happened while I wasn’t here?” you asked, chuckling.

“Sofia’s what happened,” Topper continued, and your confusion deepened. “Seems that pogue’s got a thing for your man here.” Rafe let out a scoff. “You think? She could barely keep her eyes off me.”

You glanced back at Sofia, who quickly looked away when your eyes met. “She kept looking at you, did she?” you asked, your arm protectively wrapping around Rafe’s neck. He smirked, enjoying your reaction.

“Aren’t you popular with pogues these days, hmm?” you teased, giving Rafe a playful nudge. He chuckled, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Mhmm, you jealous, baby?” Rafe asked, his tone light and teasing.

You rolled your eyes playfully. “‘M not,” you said, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “I know you’re mine anyways,” you shrugged, feeling his smirk against your skin as his hand came up to rest on your hip. “Always,” he murmured, his voice low and sincere.

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faebled-stories · 1 month ago

Text

In the Shadows of Fantasy

Kinkvember Day 2: Roleplay/CNC

Shin Ryujin x Male (????)

TW: Non-Con Themes (first time writing this sort of scenes.)

6.2k words

On a quiet evening in her snug apartment, the bustling world outside felt like a distant dream, imbued with an air of surreal calmness. The remnants of a vibrant day, filled with the excitement of promoting for ITZY, lingered faintly in her mind, but like a gentle tide, it was ebbing away, gradually replaced by the soothing hum of her sanctuary. After conquering the frenetic energy of rehearsals, interviews, and eager fans, Ryujin relished stepping across the threshold into her own little bubble of peace. The muted symphony of the city—a soft hum of distant honks and faintly echoing conversations—enveloped her, whispering tales of life outside while allowing her the comfort of solitude.

Her sanctuary was a refuge, a warm hug against the chill of the metropolitan hustle. As she entered her cozy space, the atmosphere exuded comfort; the soft, golden glow from carefully placed lamps created playful shadows that danced across the walls, turning the stark lines of her apartment into something softer, more inviting. The ambiance wrapped around her in layers of warmth, a stark contrast to the chaos of the outside world. As she sank onto her plush bed, enveloped in a knitted blanket, the remnants of the hot shower she had just indulged in lingered around her, a steamy embrace that melted away the exhaustion of her day. The warm water had worked wonders, loosening her tense muscles and leaving her in a state of relaxed bliss.

Wrapped in her silky pink pajamas—a delicate tapestry of fabric that brushed against her skin like a soft whisper—Ryujin felt a wave of relief wash over her. The delicate lace trim of her pajamas was not just an embellishment; it was a small act of indulgence, a reminder that even in a world that demanded strength and poise, the quiet luxuries of self-care were invaluable. Her long black hair, still damp and slightly tousled from the shower, had been pulled into a loose, messy bun, radiating an effortless elegance as if she were embodying the beauty of simplicity. In this personal space, Ryujin cherished the joy of authenticity, free from the public scrutiny that accompanied her life on stage.

Before fully sinking into the serene embrace of her evening rituals, Ryujin felt the familiar buzz of her phone. She reached for it, quickly thumbing through her messages. A smile tugged at her lips as she read through the lively chatter in her group chat with her bandmates. They were making plans for the night, a rare and precious opportunity to unwind amidst their demanding schedules. She quickly typed her response, crafting her words with care,

“Sorry, I can’t meet up later. I’ve already got plans for tonight.”

A wave of hesitation washed over her. It was true—she had plans, albeit not the kind that involved meeting friends for dinner or drinks. As she sent the message, a flutter of excitement coursed through her, igniting a spark of anticipation. The girls replied with understanding, their supportive words bringing a warmth to her heart. She locked her phone and tucked it beneath the comforting folds of her blanket, her pulse slowing as she glanced around her apartment. The gentle glow of candles flickered soothingly, the air thick with the aroma of serenity, a sharp contrast to the exhilarating chaos she had just left behind.

The scents of lavender and vanilla blended harmoniously, wrapping around her like an invisible shawl. A diffuser on her nightstand sent delicate puffs of lavender oil into the air, its calming properties weaving throughout the room, while a vanilla-scented candle flickered softly on the coffee table, casting moving shadows that danced playfully across the tidy space. Scattered around her were remnants of the day—magazines, photos, promotional flyers—tokens and trinkets of her fast-paced existence. Yet, in this tranquil sanctuary, they felt more like mementos of a bygone affair, whispering echoes of a vibrant life now tucked away as she embraced her present.

Ryujin let out a deep, contented sigh, surrendering fully to the plush comfort of her bed. As her mind wandered, she began to scroll through pictures from the day’s events—captured smiles and spontaneous laughter with her bandmates and the adoring fans who filled the venue with enthusiasm. The vivid memories—bright stage lights, pulsing music, and the electric energy of a crowd—swirled within her, a vibrant tapestry woven from moments of authenticity and connection. Yet, here, nestled in her softly lit living room, with the city humming a lullaby outside, she felt a reassuring sense of peace wash over her. This was her moment, a rare stillness amidst a world that rarely paused to breathe.

With her feet tucked comfortably beneath her, Ryujin relished every second of this quiet solitude. The world outside could wait; tonight, she would luxuriate in her own tranquility, enveloped by warmth, the scent of her favorite candles, and the knowledge that within the chaos of her life, she could carve out a corner meant solely for introspection and self-appreciation. Here, in her sanctuary, she could simply be Ryujin—the girl behind the stage lights, the one finding solace in the quiet power of her own company.

The tranquility of Ryujin's home was shattered by a sudden, deafening crash. The sound, akin to a gunshot, reverberated through the living room, its echoes bouncing off the walls and jolting the young idol from her peaceful reverie. The serene stillness of the dimly lit hallway before her was now a corridor of uncertainty, a pathway to an unknown danger that had so rudely intruded upon her sanctuary.

As the initial shock subsided, the pounding of heavy footsteps against the wooden floorboards sent waves of dread through Ryujin's petite frame. Each thud was a drumbeat of impending doom, the rhythm growing louder and more insistent as the source of the disturbance drew nearer. Her heart, a wild drum in her chest, pounded in sync with the advancing threat, the surge of adrenaline sharpening her senses to a painful acuity.

The darkness in the hallway seemed to deepen, and from its depths, a figure emerged—a menacing silhouette that moved with deliberate intent. Ryujin's instincts screamed for her to flee, but fear rooted her to the spot. Her attempt to cry out for help died in her throat, a silent scream that hung heavy in the air.

As the intruder drew closer, the dim light revealed his obscured features—a black ski mask concealed his identity, and his eyes, those piercing, manic eyes, gleamed with a dangerous intensity that sent shivers down Ryujin's spine. His presence was a palpable threat, a predator in her home, and she knew with a sinking certainty that her world was about to be upended.

With a roughness that took her breath away, the man seized Ryujin by the shoulders, his grip an iron vice that she couldn't break free from. He hoisted her over his shoulder as if she weighed nothing, ignoring her frantic struggles and the blows she rained down upon his back. Her attempts to break free were met with a firm smack to her backside, a humiliating assertion of his control over her. His hands, now freed from the task of restraining her, roamed over her body with a sense of entitlement that made her blood run cold.

The journey down the hallway to her bedroom was a blur of panic and disbelief. Ryujin's mind raced, searching for a way to escape the nightmare that had ensnared her. But her efforts were in vain; the intruder's strength was overwhelming, and her bedroom—a space that had always been a haven—was now the stage for her terror.

Tossed onto the bed like a ragdoll, Ryujin's breath was knocked from her lungs. The bedframe creaked ominously under the sudden addition of weight, and she scrambled to regain her footing, to put distance between herself and the monster that loomed over her. But he was on her in an instant, his body pinning hers to the mattress with terrifying ease.

"Stop! Who are you? What are you doing?" Ryujin's voice was a tremulous whisper, laced with the kind of fear that claws at the throat and threatens to suffocate. The room, once a sanctuary, now felt like a prison, the air thick with the scent of her own fear and the sickening sweetness of the intruder's breath.

His response was a cruel laugh that seemed to mock her vulnerability, he silenced her attempts to scream. "Silence," he hissed, the command a low growl that filled the room and silenced the last of her protests. His hands, calloused and rough, tore at her clothing with a ferocity that left her exposed and shivering in the cool air.

Ryujin's heart pounded in her chest like a trapped animal desperate for escape as she lay there, her wrists firmly ensnared in the iron grip of her captor. His hands, large and unyielding, were like manacles, pinning her to the cold, unforgiving surface beneath her. Her struggles were futile, her strength no match for the brute force that held her captive.

Tears carved rivulets down her cheeks, each one a silent testament to her terror. Her voice, once strong and defiant, was now a mere whisper as she begged for mercy. "Please, don't do this," she pleaded, her words laced with desperation. But the intruder, his eyes darkened with a lust that brooked no room for compassion, was deaf to her entreaties. He was a man possessed, his mind clouded by a perverse obsession that had consumed him whole.

"You’re mine now," he declared, his voice a guttural growl that resonated with the promise of unspeakable acts. The words hung in the air like a specter, filling the room with a palpable sense of dread. Ryujin's body trembled, not just from the chill of the room, but from the deep-seated fear that gripped her soul. She knew that her life was hanging by a thread, and that the man above her was the only one who held the power to sever it.

His breath, hot and ragged, washed over her face as he leaned in closer, his intentions clear. Ryujin felt a wave of nausea rise within her as she realized the horror that was about to unfold. She closed her eyes, trying to transport herself to a safer place, a happier memory, but the reality of her situation was an unbreakable chain that tethered her to the present.

The intruder's hands roamed over her body with a sense of entitlement, each touch a violation, a desecration of her being. Ryujin's mind raced, searching for a way out, a miracle that would deliver her from this nightmare. But as she lay there, helpless and afraid, she knew that her fate was sealed. The only thing left to do was to endure, to survive by any means necessary, and to hope against hope that she would live to see another day.

The roughness of his hands scraped against her soft skin, leaving a trail of dread in their wake. Ryujin's heart pounded in her chest, a frantic drumbeat that echoed the turmoil in her mind. Each grope, each unwanted caress, sent shockwaves of revulsion through her. His touch was a violation, a harsh juxtaposition to the gentle caresses she had once known.

His fingers, unyielding and intrusive, pried at her most private sanctum, a sacred space now desecrated by his relentless, cruel exploration. The intimate touch that should have been filled with warmth and mutual desire was instead laced with a cold, brutal possessiveness. It was a reminder of her loss of control, her autonomy stripped away by force.

Ryujin felt her very essence recoil from the abomination of his touch. Her body, once a vessel of joy and pleasure, now served as a battleground, a site of abuse. With each passing moment, the vile invasion further tainted her, leaving her feeling irreparably soiled, her spirit crying out against the defilement of her temple.

In the depths of her being, Ryujin's mind railed against the horror, a silent scream reverberating through her consciousness. She clung to the fragments of her dignity, a desperate act of defiance against the physical and emotional ravaging of her person. With each heartbeat, she fought to preserve a piece of herself untouched by the brutality that surrounded her, a small flame of resistance flickering in the darkness of her ordeal.

His depraved taunts sliced through the air, each word a lash against her dignity. "God look at you getting wet, I knew you were a slut hiding as an idol," he sneered, his voice dripping with malicious glee. His words were not just spoken; they were a deliberate and cruel violation of her spirit, an attempt to strip her of her identity and reduce her to nothing more than an object of his twisted desires.

Ryujin's denials were fierce, yet they seemed to dissipate into the ether, unacknowledged and invalidated by the monster looming above her. She mustered all her strength to form coherent words through her sobs, her voice trembling with a mixture of fear and outrage. "No, please, you're wrong!" she pleaded, her eyes wide with terror, reflecting the shattered remnants of her once untouchable world.

But her tearful pleas fell on deaf ears. The intruder reveled in her distress, feeding off it, his smirk growing ever wider as he watched her struggle against the nightmare he had forced upon her. With each passing moment, her torment seemed to intensify, a crescendo of emotional and psychological pain that threatened to consume her entirely.

The man who claimed to be her fan, who had morphed into her captor, traced the contours of her vulnerability with a touch that was both invasive and terrifying. With a single finger, he probed her innocence, curling it in a gesture that was as much a violation as it was a perverse display of control. Scooping the essence of her fear and arousal, he brought it to her tear-streaked face, a macabre exhibition to prove his twisted point. "See? Even when you deny it, you love it," he sneered, before indulging in the taste of her terror, his eyes gleaming with sadistic pleasure as she watched, paralyzed by the moment, her struggles futile under his oppressive grip.

The chill of his words cut deeper than the physical intrusion. "I've been watching you for some time now, I even attended your fan meet," he growled into her ear, the proximity of his breath a violation in itself. "The way you spoke to me, I knew you wanted this, wanted me." His statement was a delusion, a fabrication born from his obsessive desire to possess her.

With no regard for her well being, he forced his three longest fingers into her, cruelly exploring her depths as she fought against the invasion, her legs flailing in a desperate attempt to deny him access. A swift, stinging slap to her thighs served as a harsh reminder of her helplessness, and he pinned her legs open with his knees, ensuring her resistance was crushed under his relentless assault.

His hands were unyielding, pistoning with a ferocity that ignored her pleas for mercy. The slickness of her own arousal betrayed her, fueling his relentless rhythm. Each thrust was a reminder of her captivity, each cry that tore from her throat a testament to her suffering. But Ryujin was not one to surrender easily. With a surge of adrenaline, she mustered the strength to fight back, freeing a leg and landing a kick that momentarily freed her from his grasp. The brief respite was a fleeting victory, as her attempt to escape was swiftly thwarted by his longer reach and quick reflexes.

"You never know when to quit, do you?" he taunted, a smirk playing at his lips. "I should have seen this coming; you were always so strong." His eyes gleamed with a dangerous mix of admiration and malice. "But that only makes it sweeter—knowing how satisfying it’ll be when I finally reduce you to nothing but a toy." His words, dripping with twisted admiration, laid bare the sinister depths of his obsession.

The room that was once a haven of tranquility and self-expression, a scene of unfathomable horror was unfolding. The room, bathed in the dim glow of a solitary lamp, bore witness to a transformation that would leave its occupant forever scarred. This was no longer a sanctuary; it was a site of a struggle that would test the very limits of human resilience.

The walls, once adorned with vibrant colors and personal mementos, now stood as silent sentinels to an act of domination. As the assailant's eyes swept across the room, they settled on an object that would chill the blood of any onlooker: a length of rope, its very presence an ominous harbinger of what was to come. The rope, an everyday item twisted into an instrument of torment, lay coiled and waiting—its innocent origins now a distant memory in the face of its dark new purpose.

With a grip born of malice, the assailant seized the rope, its fibers a cruel contrast to the softness of the skin it would soon bind. The victim, a soul whose light had drawn many, now found herself ensnared by the very space that once celebrated her essence. As she was dragged towards the bed, a symbol of comfort turned into an altar of suffering, the rope in the assailant's hand became a grim portent of her impending entrapment.

"What is this for? You're a kinky little bitch, huh?" he sneered, the words a vile distortion of intimacy. Ryujin's denial was written in the frantic shake of her head and the terror etched across her face. Her gaze flickered towards a drawer.

Noticing her glance, he leaned over and pulled it open, his expression twisting with dark amusement as he uncovered the hidden item. "Well, well," he murmured, lifting the rainbow-colored dildo wrapped in cloth. "Looks like you've got your secrets." His tone was laced with cruel satisfaction as he held her private joy aloft, a personal item now transformed into a weapon for her degradation.

In a swift and brutal motion, she was thrown onto the bed, the force of the action resurfacing memories of what happened just moments ago. The assailant, driven by a desire to dominate and degrade, secured her hands to the bedpost with ruthless efficiency. The rope dug into her flesh, each strand a thread in the tapestry of her suffering.

The decision to leave her legs untied was a calculated one, a means to leave her completely and utterly vulnerable. The sense of exposure was all-consuming, rendering her utterly defenseless against the violence that was to follow.

Ryujin, whose name evoked images of a fierce idol known for her strength, grace and power. Now found herself trapped in a human drama of the darkest kind. Her heart raced, a frantic drumbeat against the silence that enveloped the room. With each desperate pull against the restraints, her unyielded spirit shone through the darkness of her situation, a beacon of resistance that refused to be extinguished.

The moment of violation arrived with a swift and violent plunge, an act that would seek to strip away her sense of self. The toy, once a source of personal enjoyment, was now an extension of her assailant's twisted desires. Its rainbow markings, a grotesque contrast to the act they were now part of, stood in stark contrast to the vibrancy they were meant to represent.

The struggle was internal as much as it was physical. I can't… not like this she thought, but her body, a finely tuned instrument honed through years of dance and performance, betrayed her. A quiet gasp slipped out, her legs trembling as she fought to maintain a composure that was being systematically dismantled. The toy filled her in a way that was impossible to ignore, its movements an unwelcome rhythm dictated by hands that had no right to touch her.

Teetering on the edge of her endurance, her mind spun in a desperate search for an anchor—a lifeline to cling to amidst the relentless onslaught. But the man, a specter of menace was unrelenting, a manifestation of her deepest fears made flesh.

With each passing second, Ryujin felt the invisible grip of inevitability tighten around her. It's too much, she realized, the thought piercing through the haze of her resistance. And just as this realization coalesced into a stark acceptance, her body tensed, betraying her final shred of resistance. A soft cry, born of a place where strength and vulnerability intertwine, escaped her lips as she let go, surrendering to the overwhelming sensation that threatened to consume her whole.

The orgasm that followed was not just a physical response; it was a shattering of the self, a detonation that rippled through every fiber of her being. For a moment, everything else vanished—erased by the pulsating, all-consuming release she had tried so hard to deny. "No, no, not like this—" she gasped, but her plea was lost in the tempest that raged within. The orgasm crashed through her like a rogue wave, her entire body seizing with the sudden intensity, leaving her breathless and exposed.

Her legs shook violently, her control lost to the tide of pleasure that surged through her core in overwhelming pulses. Each throb was a testament to the power of her adversary, a man who watched with a dark satisfaction etched into the harsh lines of his face. His gaze was fixed on her, a predator savoring the sight of his prey coming undone in his arms.

Ryujin's body arched into the pleasure she had tried so hard to resist, her mind too clouded with sensation to mount any further defense. Her composure, once a fortress, lay in ruins, each shudder tearing away the last remnants of her armor. She was completely vulnerable, exposed to the cruel whims of her attacker, a man who seemed to revel in the unraveling of her defenses.

With her legs trembling and the last of her resistance shattered, her orgasm wracked her until there was nothing left to give. She lay there, spent, her breaths coming in shallow bursts as the aftershocks pulsed faintly through her limbs. He held her, still reveling in the sight of his idol succumbing so completely to the moment.

The assault on her dignity continued as he began to undo his pants, letting her glimpse his hardening cock—a sight that was both repulsive and terrifying. He repeated his previous actions, dipping his fingers and letting Ryujin see just how wet she was from being handled against her will. "Just accept it, Ryujin, you're a slut, a slut who loves to be ra-" His words were cut off as a glob of saliva hit his face. Her defiance was palpable, "how dare you say such things, let me go, you freak," she tried to intimidate him despite her position.

This only made the man chuckle, a sound that was incongruously light against the gravity of the situation. He wiped the spit from his face and, without warning, he slapped her pussy and suddenly inserted his full length into her throbbing folds. A sharp gasp escaping Ryujin's lips as her body adjusted to the sudden abuse. His pace was relentless, each movement rough and mechanical, offering no reprieve from the overwhelming sensation.

"Stop… please…" Ryujin whimpered, her voice barely audible as she fought to hold on, her body bucking beneath him as she tried in vain to push him away.

"You want this," he hissed in response, his hips slamming into hers. "You knew what would happen, all those times you were up on the stage, shaking your ass with nothing but shorts that didn’t even cover your ass, you know what you were doing, don’t pretend you didn’t."

The words sent a shudder through her. In the privacy of her home, the fear took hold—would anyone even know to come help her? She should've just gone with the ITZY girls, but this was what she had wanted, a moment to herself, a chance to stay home and relax. Now, her desire for solitude had backfired, trapping her in a nightmare. Her mind rebelled against the raw brutality of it, while her body betrayed her with its responses.

"I… I don’t…" Ryujin gasped, her voice trembling as his thrusts became more punishing, forcing her to feel every inch of him inside her. The sensation was overwhelming—pain and pleasure mixed into one confusing, intoxicating wave.

The man grunted, a cruel smirk twisting his lips. "You will take it. You’ll take everything I give you." He forcefully grabbed her hair, using it as a handle as he thrusted harder into her. If she just slightly brought her eyes down, she would be able to see the assault happening to her precious core, a sight that would haunt her long after the physical scars had healed.

Tears of frustration and shame spilled down her cheeks as Ryujin struggled to process the overwhelming intensity. Each brutal thrust tore through her, making her feel both powerless and consumed. Her body quaked with each movement, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she fought the conflicting emotions warring inside her.

"Please… stop…" Ryujin whispered again, but the plea fell on deaf ears. Her body, traitorous in its response, began to react to his touch, a warmth pooling deep within her core, betraying the turmoil of her heart and mind.

This scene, fraught with a harrowing mix of fear and arousal, is not just a moment but a narrative that underscores the intricate and often misunderstood nature of human sexuality and consent. Her voice, barely a whisper, laced with a mixture of fear and desperation, "No… No… I can't cum like this, not again," underscores the internal conflict that many victims of sexual coercion face. The struggle within her was palpable, a conflict between the primal urges of her flesh and the clear boundaries she so desperately wanted to maintain.

Yet, her tormentor was relentless. "You can, and you will. You want it, your body craves it," he growled, his voice a low rumble that seemed to resonate within her, stirring feelings she wished would remain dormant. His words were not just a statement but a command, an assertion of control that left her feeling powerless and exposed.

The intensity of the situation was undeniable, pulling her closer to the edge despite the tears that streamed down her face. Each sob was a silent scream, a plea for mercy that went unheard. She hated how much her body had betrayed her, how it responded to the very touch that repulsed her mind. The paradox of pleasure and pain intertwined, creating a storm of emotions that threatened to overwhelm her.

Just as his brutal thrusts reached their peak, his voice broke through in a ragged growl. “Fuck, your tight pussy is making me cum. I’m gonna fill you up so well,” he groaned, his member starting to pulsate inside her.

Panicking, Ryujin tried one last time to regain control. “Please don’t—anything but that. I’ll swallow everything, please don’t cum in me. I need to keep my job, please!” Her voice was desperate, her pleas frantic. But he ignored her, too far gone, the sound of her cries only pushing him closer to his inevitable release.

With a final, forceful slam of his hips, he buried himself deep inside her. His body tensed, grunting as the rush of his climax took hold. Ryujin’s body, pushed to its breaking point, betrayed her in the worst way possible. A choked, involuntary cry escaped her lips as she felt a molten heat bubble up from her core. “No, no, no—I can’t cum like this, I can’t—OH FUCK! NO!” Her protest turned into a scream as an intense orgasm ripped through her, unstoppable, her body convulsing against her will..

Every nerve was on fire, her entire being wracked with sensation as her climax overtook her. She could feel him inside her, his length pulsing, pumping one wave of release after another, spilling every drop of his cum deep into her womb. It was too much, her body buckling as the pleasure overwhelmed her.

When it was over, she lay there trembling, her limbs weak and unsteady. Conflicting emotions tore at her—shame and disgust mingled with the unsettling, undeniable relief her body had experienced. She felt a profound sense of humiliation, haunted by the fact that even under such circumstances, her body had responded so intensely, climaxing harder than ever before.

Her breaths came in shallow, uneven gasps as she tried to make sense of the chaotic swirl of sensations and the hollow feeling left behind. Finally, his movements slowed and stopped, his weight pressing heavily into her, pinning her further into the bed. For a moment, the only sound in the room was their ragged breathing, thick with exhaustion, filling the air like an unwelcome reminder.

But then, something shifted. He slowly peeled himself away from her, his movements hesitant, as though the air had grown thick between them. She felt him exit her, and a cold breeze hit her core, leaving her to shiver and her pussy pulsing. He stood, silent, and as Ryujin looked up, she saw him reach for the mask he had been wearing. He pulled it off, the fabric falling to the floor.

Her gaze followed it, and then she looked up, meeting his eyes. Something in his expression made her heart lurch. It wasn’t anger or disgust that she felt now—it was guilt. Sympathy and regret welled up inside her, twisting her stomach.

You stood there, staring down at her with a look of conflict, your shoulders heavy as if the weight of the moment had just settled on you.

“Did you… like that?” you asked finally, your voice soft, uncertain, almost fragile.

Ryujin blinked, trying to sort through the storm of emotions inside her. She had liked it, loved it even—there was no denying the raw intensity of what had just happened. The power of the orgasm had been overwhelming, consuming her entirely. But seeing the guilt in your eyes now made her chest tighten. She hadn’t realized the toll it had taken on you.

“I did,” she admitted softly, sitting up and pulling the blanket around herself for comfort. “But… I didn’t think it would be like this for you. I thought you’d enjoy it too.”

Her voice was tender, her eyes searching for understanding. She hadn’t anticipated this outcome, hadn’t realized that what had been a moment of intense release for her had left you feeling something much different. The realization hit her hard, and suddenly the thrill of the moment faded, replaced by the weight of everything left unsaid between you.

You let out a slow breath, running a hand through your hair. “I thought I would enjoy it. But halfway through, it stopped feeling like an act. It felt… too real.” You shook your head, guilt flashing across your face. “I don’t want to hurt you, Ryujin. Even if it’s just role-play.”

Ryujin’s heart sank as she heard the strain in your voice. The plan she had been so excited about—the one she’d been texting you earlier, coordinating in secret—suddenly felt like a misstep. She had wanted to explore this fantasy together, to push your boundaries, but now she saw how deeply it had affected you.

Seeing your troubled expression, Ryujin immediately reached out and took your hand, squeezing it gently. “You didn’t hurt me, I promise,” she said softly, her voice full of warmth and reassurance. She shifted closer to you, her fingers brushing through your hair, trying to comfort you. “I trusted you completely, and you didn’t cross any lines. You gave me exactly what I wanted.”

Your eyes softened as you looked at her, but the weight of your emotions was still evident. “I just didn’t expect it to feel so real. Seeing you like that—so vulnerable—it scared me. I wasn’t sure if I should stop. I wanted to make you feel good, but then it felt like too much.”

Ryujin’s heart ached seeing the guilt and confusion in your eyes. She could sense how much you had been battling internally, pushing through the moment for her sake. Her fingers gently traced your jawline as she spoke. “I know it felt intense. I know it was a lot. But you did everything right. You didn’t hurt me. It’s okay to feel unsure sometimes—it means you care, it means you’re thinking of me. And I love that about you.”

She pressed her forehead against yours, her breath warm and steady as she tried to ease your anxiety. “I’m sorry if I pushed you too far,” she whispered, her hand gently squeezing your shoulder. “This is our time, not just my time. If it ever feels too real, or if you’re uncomfortable, we stop. That’s what the safe word is for, remember? We’re always in control together.”

You exhaled, your body relaxing a little as her words sank in. You knelt beside her on the bed, your hands resting on her thighs, drawing strength from her presence. “I didn’t want to ruin it for you,” you murmured, your voice thick with emotion. “You looked so caught up in it, and I didn’t want to let you down.”

Ryujin shook her head gently, her heart full of affection as she cupped your face in her hands. “You could never let me down. You did exactly what I asked of you, and you did it because you love me. That means more than anything. We tried something new together, and that’s what matters. The fact that you care enough to worry about me—that’s what makes this work.”

Your eyes filled with gratitude as you leaned into her touch, feeling the weight of your worry begin to lift. “I’m not mad,” Ryujin continued, her voice soothing as she spoke. “We don’t have to rush back into this. I know it was intense, and maybe we can try again in the future if we both feel ready. But not until you’re comfortable.”

You nodded, your forehead resting against hers. “Thank you… for understanding and for being patient with me. I really didn’t like seeing you cry, even if it was part of the role-play.”

Ryujin smiled softly, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. “I know. I could feel it when you hesitated, but I also knew I was safe with you. You did everything right. It’s okay to take things slow next time. We’ll figure out what works for both of us.”

As she spoke, Ryujin wrapped her arms around you, pulling you close. She could feel the tension slowly ebbing away from your body, replaced by the quiet understanding that, while you hadn’t shared the exact same feelings during the moment, your love and trust remained strong.

“I love you,” Ryujin whispered into your ear, her voice steady and full of care. “We’ll always figure this out together. Don’t carry this weight by yourself.”

You hugged her tightly, your grip firm but tender. “I love you too. I just… I want to be what you need.”

Ryujin pulled back slightly, her eyes locking with yours. “You already are. Just by being here, by talking to me like this—you’re everything I need.”

Your breath hitched slightly, and Ryujin could see the relief wash over you, your shoulders relaxing as the guilt you’d been carrying finally started to dissolve.

You sat together, wrapped in each other’s warmth, the earlier intensity now softened by the quiet hum of the room. The air, still charged with the echoes of your shared vulnerability, gradually became a sanctuary of comfort. The rhythmic thrum of Ryujin’s heartbeat under your ear anchored you, a gentle reminder that in this moment, safety and love surrounded you.

The night hadn’t unfolded as either of you expected. While it was intended to push boundaries, it ended up brushing too close to an edge that felt unsettling. But here, in the quiet aftermath, the true strength of your bond revealed itself—not in flawless moments, but in facing the imperfect ones together.

Ryujin’s hand moved with a tender steadiness, fingers threading through your hair as she held you close. Her eyes, soft with understanding and glistening with unshed emotion, searched yours. The apology she whispered carried the weight of sincerity. “I’m sorry again for making you do something you weren’t comfortable doing,” she said, her voice low and earnest. The kiss she placed on your forehead lingered like a promise, warm and reassuring. “We should always both be enjoying it, okay?”

You felt a lump rise in your throat, a mixture of relief and gratitude. Her words resonated in the space between you, washing away the remnants of doubt that had lingered in the corners of your mind. You nodded, the gesture small but full of resolve. “Okay. If it ever feels like that again, I’ll tell you,” you said, your voice steadying as her hand tightened over yours.

A smile broke through the lingering tension on Ryujin’s face, the corners of her eyes crinkling as she nestled closer. The room felt warmer, filled not just with the heat of bodies, but with the shared understanding that mistakes were not failures—they were lessons. The moments of discomfort were laid to rest, and in their place grew something deeper: the affirmation that your love thrived not in perfection, but in how you navigated the imperfect.

Ryujin’s embrace became your refuge as the minutes passed, her breathing synchronizing with yours in a comforting rhythm. The world outside fell away, leaving only the steady beat of two hearts, learning and loving as one. Trust, communication, and care—these were the foundations of what you had. And in that moment, it felt like more than enough.

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