#I will not run to not further fuck up my bad knee and also I am simply not a sporty person

[lavenoon]

Good news, @clxckwork-sun-n-moon's Hunter Edition Eclipse accepts kissies! <3

[satyricplotter]

keep on melting my paradigm (you're like candy)

pairing: jason todd x reader word count: a conservative 1.2k im extremely proud of thank you rating: mature warnings: suggestive language, vore-adjacent musings? reader is a little intense also. notes: i've had half of this on my drafts since that chapter of the juni ba dami story came out sjdfs it's a bit weird. title from this gay ass song.

"Do you think I'm creepy?"

Jason hums, hands flexing on the fabric of your jeans. He has an arm slung around your waist, thumb threaded through the belt hoop at your lower back. The other hand rests on the side of your thigh, and this you feel slide just a little as he ponders his answer.

"Pretty sure I wouldn't have you on my lap if I did," he says.

His eyes are closed. They have been ever since you climbed atop him, hands roaming over his face, neck, shoulders. His head thrown back against the swell of the couch's cushion, chest rising and falling in a serene cycle. You brush the tuft of white hair at his forehead back—if you can really call the motion that. It's cropped so short nowadays, there's not really much to brush back. But you relish in the feeling of it poking against the pads of your fingers, a newness to accompany a well-worn habit. You continue to scratch your nails against his scalp. Jason hums, huffs a little. You feel the vibration of his chest against yours. The afternoon stretches slow and syrupy, golden sunlight swallowing you both in and out of shadows. An uncharacteristic idyll broken by your particular neurosis.

"You might," you say. "You people are severely lacking in self-preservation."

"You people..." He repeats, quietly. Amused. Raises an eyebrow but doesn't open his eyes. "You mean the recently dead, or the murderous?"

"The running at night with a cape crowd, rather."

"I don't wear a cape," Jason points out.

"Of course you don't. You've watched The Incredibles."

"Number five on your extensive list of superhero media, if I recall correctly," he says, dryly. He opens his eyes slowly, gaze sharpening on you immediately. A milky grey, almost white—stunning. So stunning. You never tire of him. He jolts you out of your daze by literally jolting you, raising his knee abruptly so you careen further down his lap and clamp down on his shoulders with a yelp. You scoff, he laughs.

"C'mon." He squeezes your waist. "Out with it."

"I fear my fascination with the more... outlandish aspects of your appearance is disrespectful to you," you blurt out.

Immediately, you flush, avert your eyes. Jason has an incredible ability to dissect you open, sink his hands into you and rip out whatever you're trying to hide from him—all with some simple prompting. You hadn't meant to say the truth. Particularly because you know it's silly. You can see it in his face, the way he barely holds back from pulling a face you will most definitely resent. His consideration is heartwarming, considering he doesn't pull his punches on anyone else.

"You worry... about the weirdest shit," he says in the most annoying tone of wonderment. It makes you feel silly—which you are.

"I'm serious," you whine. "You have to take this seriously. What if I'm fetishizing your weird eyes and scarred body?"

"And my big tits?" He ventures.

"And your big tits," you agree.

"And my fat cock?"

"And your—you son of a bitch." You slap his arm as he guffaws. "Be! Fucking! Serious! This is a serious concern! It could be bad for your self-esteem!"

"I don't think you should be worrying about my self-esteem while hitting me. What if my arm falls off? Why don't you worry about that?"

"You're so insufferable." You roll your eyes. "You've been shot before. You can survive some light slapping. Now get with the program. Am I a creep or not?"

"Because you like me?" His eyebrows crawl up his forehead, a little sense of unease settling onto him. "Is it wrong to like me?"

"What? No, of course not!" You exclaim, frowning. "You're great."

"Sure," he snorts. You got a bone to pick with the incredulity, but now's not the time. Jason relaxes back into the couch in the meantime, the grip on your hip loosening. "Then what's the issue. You just like me. Simple as that."

"So much, Jay," you confess, too absorbed in making your point to feel embarrassed about it. "I like you so much. Too much? I feel like if I told you exactly how much, you'd be weirded out by it."

"Not really," he mutters. The hand on your waist slips up to rest at your nape, thumb pressing on a divot at the side that makes you shiver, burrow yourself closer. You drag against him, semi-hard all afternoon underneath you, which is all he wants, and exhale with shaky fortitude.

Jason cradles the back of your head, slowly opens up your neck to him. His lips are sweet as they mouth your pulse point, his breath hot and wet where he kisses. Sure and steady hands hold you in place, big and rough even through the layers of clothes. You want them on your skin, roaming your body. Wanna feel the jagged edge of every scar catch on your every groove and curve. He does this daily; this is no foreign feeling. Jason takes you on lap and holds and kisses you on the regular, and yet, though one may suppose it to be so, no tedium penetrates this daily ritual of affection. As ever, you feel alive and grateful and intoxicated.

You're wrong, Jason, you think dazedly, eyelashes sticking together with the dampness of your eyes, this can't be normal.

Every kiss from Jason is an attempt to suffocate you. His hot mouth closes in on you like a bruise, and you melt into the brute strength, because you, too are voracious. You bite at his lip, feel the sharp jab of lust stab through you at the accompanying grunt. At once you feel the heavy weight of desire and possession build up inside you. He makes you greedy, and selfish, and dangerous. You wanna punish anybody that has ever hurt him, and lock him up so nobody can see him but you, and beg on your knees so that he may never leave you, and it is all ugly and messy and undignified.

"Stop thinking," he rasps, half-pants into your mouth. You try not to whimper or follow after him when he breaks away, presses his temple against yours. He doesn't get it. You don't think he ever will. It's a loving gesture all the same. Your fingers curl on the hem of his shirt.

"I want to sink my teeth into you," you mutter against his cheek. So solid, so warm. Sticky flesh like a babe's. My love, my love, you chant.

His voice is hoarse. "Do you?"

"I think... if I could... if you let me..." You slip down to nibble at his ear, blood pounding on your own. "I'd eat you alive. Bite by bite."

Momentary silence. Bated breath. His skin under your teeth.

Jason laughs. He holds you closer. "Are you sure?" He sounds so playful. "It'd take you a while. There's a lot of me, after all," and this he punctuates by canting his hips up, grinding against you.

"Ugh," you huff, abruptly gripping onto his shoulders to steady yourself. He sure knows how to keep you off track.

Maybe that's enough. Maybe he doesn't need to understand. Maybe he just... knows. And accepts it. Your terrible, unbearable love.

You nuzzle against him, cheek to the underside of his jaw. Press a kiss to the juncture of earlobe and jaw, then think better of it and go a little harder, alternating between sucking and pressing your tongue soothingly over the spot. It's something of a slobber, but his fingers tighten on your waist appreciatively.

"I've got time."

Jason smirks. "Then let's get started."

[thebearer]

arguing with carmen and its big enough where you leave for the night but what’s even scarier to him is that you also took teddy

he'd have an actual psychotic break, nervous breakdown.

especially bc i'm picturing him reverting back to his old ways. it's rare, but he slips into a full carmy (in the lock in) level meltdown. gets unbalanced and spirals further and further, and you just happen to be who he takes it out on.

screaming at you like a maniac over something stupid- you didn't wash his spare whites (he didn't tell you they needed to be washed). it's his fault, he knows it deep down, still he's losing his shit because it's the final straw.

"you stay at home all day! all fucking day and you can't do one thing!" carmen's red faced, screaming.

you're shocked, scared, on the brink of sobbing yourself. teddy's woke up from her nap, his screaming startled her. the newborn wailing from her nursery.

"carmen, you didn't tell me-"

"-i shouldn't have to!" carmen roars. "you're home all day-"

"-i'm on maternity leave. i just had a baby-"

"-oh, so. you can't do one fuckin' thing now? i have to do it all here too?" carmen is spiraling, pacing, running a hand down his face. "i get no fuckin' sleep, go work my fuckin' ass off, a-and then i come home so i can go back and work my ass off some more, and you can't help me out?"

his words sting, shock you with the weight of them. swallowing back tears, you turn, climbing the stairs to the bedroom.

carmen is scoffing, hands shaking with rage and annoyance and just overwhelmed. your ignoring him stings. makes him spiral even more. "don't go do it now! it's too late!" carmen scoffs. "i've got a fuckin' critic coming in two hours, and i'll wear stained whites. probably get a shitty review about our food being gross an-and the chef being just as bad!"

you texted pete through your tears, telling him that you were coming to stay there for a while. shoving clothes for the night in your small bag quickly, hands shaking when you zipped it up, your wedding ring flashing at you. you stared at it, a wave of tears coming over you, screwing the ring off your finger and setting it on carmen's night stand next to a photo of you two on your honeymoon.

you packed teddy and anchovy's things quickly, knowing you'd come back tomorrow to get what else you needed. just the essentials, to get through the night. anchovy in his carrier, and teddy in her's, you ignored carmen's pacing, his deep breaths and clenched eyes, walking straight to the garage.

carmen looked up at the sound of the door, standing quickly. a damning rush of horror, of realization washed over him, pulled him right out of his clouded tantrum.

"w-what- what are you- hey, what-" carmen runs towards the car door, where you're putting teddy's car seat into place, shushing the wailing girl gently.

"-don't fucking touch me." you sneer, teeth bared in primal rage, pure protectiveness.

"baby, wait, wait, ju-just hold on. where're you- hey, don't- where're you goin'?" carmen's frantic, eyes wide, stomach churning.

you shut the car door, moving past him without looking to get to the driver's side. "no, no, no, no, no. don't-baby please, don't. i-i-i'm sorry. i'm sorry!" carmen's stuttering in fear, hands shaking trying to hold the door open, keep you from shutting it.

"let go." you growl, yanking the door. "you're not going to talk to me like that, carmen. i don't care if you're stressed, i don't care. you're not going to come home and talk to me like that because you fucked up. not when i've been at home all day taking care of our- my child."

carmen feels dizzy, mouth filling with spit, sure he's about to throw up.

you slam the door, eyes watery and red and angry, glaring at him before pulling out of the driveway.

carmen's left alone in the garage, knees weak, hands shaking. his ears are ringing, head spinning, sure that he's hallucinating- that this has to be a sick sick dream. floods of realization icy through his veins.

the house is eerily quiet, so still. no teddy, no anchovy, no you.

he isn't sure how long he sits in the garage, the sun sinking in the horizon, but he stays motionless and still. richie shows up eventually, frantic and wide eyed.

"cousin! what the fuck? dinner service started a fuckin' hour ago, and we-" he stops, slowing his stride when he gets closer. carmen's vacant gaze, trembling hands.

"hey, carm, what's goin' on? you-you alright?" richie's voice dropped low and slow, like he used to with mikey. "carmen. hey, what's-"

"-she left." carmen whispered, his eyes wide in horror. "she-she left and she took t-teddy." carmen breaks, a sob choking out of his throat.

"why? why did she-" richie stops, looking at carmen. "carmen, what did you do?"

carmen sobs- no, wails. broken and terrified and horrified. full chest sobs that are more like screams. the realization of what he had done, what he had said, feeling the full weight of the consequences of his actions for the first time.

[prettyboykatsuki]

on deaths door | s. gojo

✮ tags ; dark content ahead, afab + gender neutral reader, dark comedy / black comedy, attempts of suicide, the use of the word rapist in text, mentions of self-harm scars, penetration, intense but not rough, gojo is doting, no curses au, ceo!gojo 18+

note: this fic is mostly intended to be a dark comedy and have an unserious nature. it is very absurdist and it makes light of both suicide and assault. please proceed carefully if you find this might be triggering to you.

PLEASE READ THE TAGS BEFORE YOU PROCEED.

✮ wc ; 2.6k

✮ a/n ; i actually really really enjoyed writing this and would love to expand on it potentially. KJSDFJSKD.

reader has been through a lot so they are super nonchalant about everything just as a precaution

"Uwah," A voice startles you from your place on the roof. You gasp, amidst tears and sobs from shock. "Are you about to kill yourself?"

You whip your head around to see who could be beside you at this hour. It's a deliberately obscure location, too so it's extra weird. You were hoping to die in peace in a place where it'd be hard to find you, after all.

But there's a strange man interrupting your plans. Very strange. He's speaking Japanese rather clearly but his hair is a shock of white and his eyes are blues as saphhires. Despite the situation, his voice is light and cheerful - almost amused.

You can't tell if he's just a figment of your imagination. He's so unusual it stuns you out of your tears. You can't find your voice to respond for a moment.

"Yes," You reply, unsure of what else to say. He smiles at you.

"Hm." He looks contemplative. "Well... if you don't want it, can I have it?"

You stare on, confused.

He grins. "Your life, I mean. Can I buy it off you?"

Starting to wonder if you've already died, you stretch your hands up to wipe the tears off of your face just to see if any of it is real. The touch makes it gasp. You're definitely still alive. So, that means this strange man is also real and asking to buy your life.

"What?"

"Oh, don't worry. I'm not a cheapskate or anything, the price will be fair." He walks closer to you from where you've been standing all this time. He grabs you by the collar of your shirt, picking you up and setting you down further away from the ledge with a harsh yank.

Like a kitten whose mother is dragging it by the nape, you fumble onto the rooftop concrete. As soon as you're moved, you drop down to your knees - unable to find anymore strength.

"Are you... trying to traffick me?" Your voice is coarse in your reply as you stare up. It's a genuine question. You aren't sure what else to call this. The strange, unusual man just laughs in your face.

"Mm, well - not really. Though, if you say yes I'll make good use of you in all ways." The last part makes your skin crawl a little. "You were weeping so pitifully when I came up here... super pathetic. I just thought it'd be a waste if you died since I got to see something interesting."

There's something really wrong with this guy, you think. But this is such a common thing in your life, you aren't sure how shocked you should be.

There's also something equally wrong with you, because you're so fucked up - you're considering it. If he paid you enough to cover all of your debts, you could cut ties with all the bullshit your fathers debt has put you through. You could run away. Not there's anywhere for you, even after that. But at least you'd be unshackled from what makes you most miserable.

You don't want your life, but if this guy wants it so bad then...

"...How much will you pay me?"

His eyes light up when you ask this and it unsettles you further. "As much as you want. And you'd have to live with me at my beck and call."

"Like a pet." You reply easily.

Instead of denying it, he snaps his fingers and grins. "Exactly! Or maybe more like a plush toy that I take every where?"

Either way, you're not any kind of human. You're barely human now though with how much you work, so you aren't sure it makes a difference. You stare at him. And he looks back at you with a smile - all pearly white pristine teeth.

Who cares anymore, anyway? Even if he were to mistreat you, you're not sure you'd even feel it. It's all numb. He can have your life if it means you can escape what you're running from.

He looks rich, so maybe.

"Don't worry," He hums, and he reaches over to pat your head while your face is covered in tears. You don't flinch for some reason. "I don't like breaking things I've bought unnecessarily."

Something is wrong with you. Your self preservation is in total fucking tatters. But still, you want to say so you do. Maybe it's the absurdity, or the fact you truly don't have anything to lose. Nothing could make your misfortune any worse.

You sniffle and shake your head. He's dangerous and weird, but at least you could pay off your debts.

"Okay," You say weakly.

His smile gets impossibly wide.

You're wonder if you'll regret your decision.

__

He's filthy rich.

You should've expected that. You did, kinda. Because only rich people would think to do or ask something so absurd like ask to buy another persons life. Still, he had a driver waiting for him downstairs and his car is definitely a sports care. A McLaren, you think. One of the places you catered for ages ago was full of rich people with flashy cars and you remembered some of them.

He sits with you uncomfortably close in the back seat but doesn't speak to you at all during the ride. Not until you arrive at the destination, which is a giant building where the strange man certainly lives.

The driver (named Ichiji) calls the strange man Gojo-sama, which makes you feel extremely on edge. They whisper about something when you're out of ear shot, and Ichiji gives you a sorrowful look that you can't place.

The name Gojo is familiar to you, but you aren't sure where you've heard it.

After taking a long elevator ride to one of the upper floors, you end up in the strange mans condo. When you get there, he tells you take off your shoes and gives you nice slippers.

"Welcome to my humble abode," He says, still frivolous and speaking to you in what feels like a foreign tongue. "And also yours. I'll set you up in the guest room later, but you'll be keeping my bed warm mostly so keep that in mind."

The size of the place is absurd and so is the decor. What have you gotten yourself into? You must've gone insane. You're too afraid to touch anything.

"Am I like... a sex slave?" You ask curiously.

He frowns at you. "You make me sound like some kind of rapist. I guess now that I own you....it might make me one... but you agreed to come here so don't be like that!!" He huffs, childishly.

His response is somewhat incomprehensible to you. He's stranger by the minute and completely tactless - but for some reason, it's hard to distrust him. He doesn't raise any immediate red flags aside from being unusual.

You almost want to say it wouldn't matter if he was, as long as he pays you but decide not too.

"Okay. Do you want me to take my clothes off?" You reply, nonchalant. He stares at you.

"...I know your heads pretty fucked up, but don't you think you're being too blase about all this?"

Your brow furrows. A weird response for a guy who willingly understands this is a less than ethical situation "Would... you prefer I struggle and refuse you? Is that your fetish?"

"No! Well..." You look at him flatly as he thinks on it, almost blushing at the thought. You make a face of disgust "Not in this case, alright! It's just too pitiful and I'm not that type really.... Be more cautious."

"But you were planning to fuck me from the start, right? Or something."

He nods. "Well, yes. As a way to earn your living and for me get my urges out whenever. Finding people to have sex with is a hassle."

You shrug.

"Right. I can cook and clean too. I've done pretty much every job you can think of it,"

He waves a hand at you. "We can discuss it later." He puts a hand in his necktie and pulls on with a small smile. "Right now, I want to test out my new toy so..."

You should feel more disgusted by how he refers to you, but you don't have it in yourself.

"Can I shower first?"

He looks surprised but nods. "Uh-huh. Just wear one of my shirts when you come out. Everything else is in the bathroom. It's upstairs, first door on your left."

You stand to your feet, nodding.

__

It takes you ten minutes to figure out how the shower works.

His shower is nice. The whole place is nice. Nicer than any shithole you've ever lived in. He has a lot of nice bath products, though you aren't sure how you feel about smelling like him since you're borrowing his.

You examine your body a bit in the shower, looking at old scars as you wash and rub yourself clean. Thankfully, you gave yourself a trim downstairs not long ago.

It's embarrassing in retrospect but you've not had much of a choice in the first place. You're sensitive, unsure of the last time you've touched yourself given how much you work. You think of your job and feel guilty for how you're going to miss it. But you recall that you were preparing to die not even two hours ago and feel less bad.

You whimper a little as you finger yourself open under the water - getting wet easier than you thought. You have to lean against the wall, but with enough coaxing you get three fingers in. You're still horny when you shut the water off and step out.

You dry yourself and put on lotion - staring in the mirror. As told you borrow one of his shirts, but it's too big on you and you can see your nipples too clearly which makes you embarrassed.

You reason you're about to go fuck a stranger anyway, and decide to step out right after.

__

You decide against wearing underwear since his shirt fits on you like a dress, but regret when you come back down stairs feeling aware of the breeze on your went cunt.

He's sitting on the couch with his legs spread, dress shirt unbuttoned but still in his clothes. He hears you before he sees you, eyes widening. You suddenly get self-conscious under the weight of his stare.

"Better than I thought," Is his only assessment. Your skin grows hot.

He beckons you over to him and you go, unsure of what to do until he pulls you into his lap. Forcing you to straddle him, he wastes no time in feeling you up. His hands at your waist and chest. His face lights up in pure amusement when he sees you bare underneath.

He stares at your pussy for a long time.

"It's good," He hums, his hands brushing against it. Your nipples pebble in response to the arousal, a pathetic moan leaving your lips that makes him laugh. "Pretty."

You don't have anything to say to that so you keep quiet. Gojo slides his fingers along the seam of your cunt to asses your wetness, surprised surely by how wet it is. Without warning, he plunges a finger in. He looks up at your face, your hand covering your mouth so you don't moan.

"So wet," His voice can't contain his amusement. "What's this?"

"I was," You shiver half-way through as he plunges in another finger and it goes in smoothly. "I p-prepared in the shower and masturbated. I thought you'd just want to stick it in and I didn't want it to hurt.

"Haah," His voice is sharp, suddenly breathy. Something hard and big presses up against your leg. "You're talented in seducing me. I'm not so ungentlemanly, but I'll let it go this time, alright?"

You nod. He uses a sticky hand to unbutton his slacks and push his boxers away. You gasp at the size of his cock. You're not a virgin exactly, but you haven't had sex with anyone this big ever. He chuckles a little, pressing the head of his cock against your stomach and cunt as if measuring it up to you.

More wetness pulses, shame filling you - because you're almost excited to be fucking this strange man you've only met today. Weirdly, you don't feel unsafe around him. Your eyes glass over from lust.

He sticks his fingers in your mouth and you suck automatically, instinctively. His smile is predatory all of a sudden, teeth glimmering.

"So obedient," He says, sharply. "Ah, I have a good eye. It really would've been such a waste."

You're content to throw yourself at him, chasing the pleasure. His fingers taste of salt and skin, making you want something else entirely. It's not long before he pulls away though, wrapping his hand around his shaft and making it shiny. You blink down at where he fists his cock - your spine tingling at the sight.

"Look at you," He mutters, amused. "Do you always get this excited? Is it normal for you to fuck strange men or am I special?"

You shake your head. "It's only been two people."

"Then I am special," He replies. Your breath hitches at the feeling of his cock pressing against your hole - fluttering. "We have good compatibility."

Before you can say a word, you feel his length push inside of you in one swift motion and gasp. It's so big, so impossibly big - and even with how much you stretched, there's a touch of resistance that's making your entire lower half feel like it's jelly. Almost numb from the sensation. Buzzing from adrenaline and want.

You feel full. In your stomach, in your chest - your whole body feel complete. When you manage to open your eyes, you look at Gojo and find yourself taken aback. His hair is pushed back from his hand and he looks... different. He's handsome now that you realize. His face looks...pleased.

You talk before you can think about it.

"Do I feel good?"

He laughs sweetly, before pressing a kiss to your temple that feels to affectionate for people who barely know each other.

"Uh-huh," He says. His hands are strong, tight on your ass as he bucks up into you - causing you to collapse forward. The pleasure makes you shake, sensitivity through the roof. "Feel so good. Hahaha, how lucky."

You cling onto Gojo's shoulder and bury your face into his neck. He doesn't stop you. A large hand comes around the back of your head - the other one at your hips as he thrusts up into you with alarming force and precision. He feels so good it's a little scary, and you can't keep the noises from slipping out. You moan and whine each time the tip rubs against you inside, soft walls barely able to accommodate the size.

Your body feels hot everywhere he touches. It's been so long and Gojo is so careful but so intense. His expensive dress shirt rubs up against your nipples each time he moves. It's so good, so good - makes you want to cry.

"You're so sensitive." He laughs against your shoulder. "Gripping so tight every time I move. Do you want to cum so bad?"

"Yes," The words are a sob. Just a little more.

"Uh-huh. Tell me where to touch you. How should I make you cum."

You're too shamelessly pent up to feel shy anymore. "Touch my c-clit, please, please."

"Got it, got it - don't cry."

Gojo listens to you well. Thick fingers and an angled hand find your clit with ease as he bounces you on his cock with no regard. Your eyes roll back instantly, immediately - as an orgasm washes over your entire body. Back arching, you cum hard around the base of his cock - but Gojo just keeps fucking you through it. He doesn't stop even when you come down, only moves you both so you're laying on the couch on your back.

He kisses you then, and you meet his mouth with sloppy tears running down your face from the pleasure.

"Let's see what your stamina is like, yeah? See if you can keep up with me."

__

He fucks you unconscious.

Essentially. Though you take with enthusiasm even during your exhaustion because the sex is phenomenal - you have no idea when you stop.

You wake up in a bed, and you wake up completely clean. You don't know whose bed, but there's a large figure besides you. Half-asleep and fully exhausted, you feel shy thinking about the fact he probably bathed and dressed you while you were out.

What a strange man, you think - to do that.

He's talking to someone on the phone. You don't really make out much of the words, though you do hear your name in bits and pieces.

"...A college student.......- young then -...... open a bank account for.... - debt...- pay it all off before it becomes annoying.... look into -."

You shift under your blankets half asleep. A hand comes up on top of your head on the pillow, pushing hair from your face.

"Did I wake you?" His expression is hard to read in the dark with your eyes barely open. "Sorry. Almost done. Go back to sleep."

So you do, because you can't find strength to do much else.

The bed is warm, but your sure the heat you feel is from the strong, gentle head petting your head as you rest.

[cherry-leclerc]

fucked-up little thrill ☆ cl16

genre: pwp but also porn with plot (the best of both worlds!), humor, she truly is a maneater in disguiseee

word count: 8.3K

There’s a difference between warning and danger - you happen to be both. Though, Charles only sees the green light, go. Well, we can all imagine how this will already go.

nsfw warnings under the cut!

18+...oral (m and f receiving), fingering, handjob, penetrative sex, riding, slight cry, unprotected sex

inspired by this and this !

“She’ll mess with your head, man. You’re going to wish she had never looked your way.” 

“I told my mom about her. Crap, I bought her an engagement ring after a few days of knowing her.”

“Four words: Get. The. Fuck. Out.”

“Do you know how fucked in the head you have to be in order to willingly go after her? Fucking pathetic. Sure, I did the same, but hear me out-”

Despite the warnings, he didn’t pay them any attention. He thought he was going crazy for sure when he saw two guys on their knees, begging:  Run, just do it. And whatever you do, don’t look back.

Charles wasn’t even listening. 

-

The nights were beginning to get warmer, yet there was still a slight breeze. Spring was rolling in. What an innocent season to meet the wildest card Charles has ever dealt. 

“...then she laughed so hard that, Jesus Mary and Joseph, my heart went bananas! Y’know what I did next? I asked her, ‘You want a slice?’ I meant the tiramisu, guys! She thought I was talking about myself! T’was the most embarrassing thing. Made me look like a bloody narcissist.” Lando whined as he leaned onto the table to hide his face.

George snorts. “Ah don’t worry mate, I would gladly take a slice.” Lando groans, further rubbing his forehead onto the table. So much so, that it began to squeak.

“Alright, calm down before you shed your skin off. It wasn’t that bad.” Alex voices, as he pops a curly fry into his mouth. 

“Easy for you to say! You basically have the person you’re going to get married to! You’re safe.” The Brit pouts. He then lifts his head up and wipes away a single tear. Everyone explodes into laughter.

“Muppet, c’mon we were kidding! Weren’t we just fooling around, Charles?” Carlos wiggles his eyebrows at the Monegasque. Charles rolled his eyes playfully.

“Yes, of course we were joking,” he starts. Lando looks up, seemingly feeling better as everyone began to agree. We were just playing around!

“Then again, how did you even fall for a girl like that?” Charles finishes his sentence. 

“Argh. You don’t get itttt,” Lando wails in defeat. “When you meet a girl like that, you don’t question it. You just thank God for sending her your way and then BAM! She just walks out of your life.”

Hm - Charles thinks to himself as he takes a sip of Martini - naive, naive little Lando. 

-

Charles met you that same night he was out for dinner with the boys. He was waiting for his car from the valet; shooting Joris a quick text.

"Sorry," he overhears a soft voice, but still didn’t pay much attention.

"Sorry? You’re sorry? We both know goddamn well that you’re sorry about nothing. Nada. Zeeerrrooo," a man's voice angrily shouts back, voice slurring. 

Charles turns and sees a man running his hands through his blonde hair, walking back and forth in despair. Then, his eyes move to find you.

Standing tall in the tightest, shortest, black dress he's ever seen. So, the little black dress truly does exist. Glowy skin shining through from the lights decorating the outside of the restaurant. Your legs appear miles long, feet paired with your nicest set of heels, Joli Queen Glitter. Red fucking bottoms. Christian Louboutin at its finest. Rich jewelry sits on your wrists, fingers, and neck. 

Even with all that in the way, all he notices is just how drop-dead gorgeous you are. Suddenly, his fingers get clammy. What the hell? His jaw was clenched. Literally, why? His pants were growing tight because oh God he was already har- Alright, now that’s just crazy, Charles. Get it together.

“Yes. Whether you believe me or not, I’m sorry. Maybe you just shouldn’t have set high expectations,” you spoke, looking down.

“Are you being fucking serious right now? You’re smiling? You think this is funny! Oh God, what the fuck is wrong with you, you crazyyyy bitch!” The man continues, sharply pointing his finger at you accusingly. He genuinely looks like he’s about to start crying for his mommy.

“Okay mate, I think that’s enough. Why don’t I call you a cab?” Charles speaks up from where he’s standing. You and the mysterious guy turn to look at him. 

You shoot a smile as the man's eye starts twitching.

“Oh great! Great, great, great,” the man chants. “What an idiotic thing to believe that you hadn't gotten rid of me already! How could I not see it coming?” He drops to his knees and starts rocking back and forth. “On my dead hamster's birthday!” Levi, Charles later finds out, cries out to the sky. “Couldn’t this have happened any other day?” Charles cringes. “Call me that shitty ass cab, dude.”

So, you stand close by as Charles helps plop Levi inside with the help of the cab driver. They buckle him up and off they go. 

Not before Levi pokes his out the window. “I swear I’m not being bitter when I tell you to fucking save yourself!”

Both of you are left there standing quietly. You pout your red lips as you pull out your phone to call a cab for yourself. 

“Need a lift?”

-

Glancing around silently, you sneak a look at Charles. Handsome, you ponder, just a tiny bit. Outrageous lie. You quickly scold yourself for being so untruthful. This man was the most beautiful kind you’ve seen in your entire life. 

“Take it that was your boyfriend back there?” He taps his fingers against the wheel.

“Mmm. Hardly. No, he isn’t - wasn’t - my boyfriend by any means. Some guys just instantly assume stuff over any girl that pays them any ounce of attention.” You lazily trace shapes onto your thigh. You tug your dress down a bit, licking your lips. “Thanks for helping me out back there. It was really sweet.”

He notices the way you never look up from your lap as you’re speaking. It’s kind of endearing, just how soft you can be. “Don’t mention it…it was…no problem.”

He walks you from his car to your house. It's small, pastel yellow with a mailbox that reads; No more love letters. Seriously. “Cute,” he comments. You blush.

“Oh, that. Sorry, I live with my two best friends and they wrote that as a joke,” you ramble as you click your heel shyly. “They said it would help out with my, and I quote, ‘secret admirers.’” You let out a tired laugh as you finally build up the courage to look at the man standing right in front of you.

“To be honest, that makes sense.” He tilts his head a bit, analyzing your eyes. “Beautiful girls should receive beautiful letters.”

Tongue tied, you stare back with a pleased smile. 

“This is so unlike me, but would you like to go out some time?”

Easiest question ever asked.

-

A few nights later, he finally decides it would be a good day to take you out to dinner. Testing went well and the car was finally on the right track. He took this as a good omen.

“How long have you lived in Italy now?” you quiz, as you bring your Shirley Temple closer to your lips.

“Oh, um, for quite a while now. I mean it’s really only for work. I go home any chance I get.”

“Sweet. Where are you from?”

“Monaco.”

Your eyes grow wide with excitement. “Really! Monaco is so beautiful!” Your childlike squeal makes him smile brightly.

“Have you ever been?” You sadly shake your head, hair bouncing back and forth. Soft floral fills the air.

“Nope, but I wish to one day. I just know I’ll love it so much…” You trail off. “It’s just that growing up my favorite movie was Monte Carlo. Would beg my mom to play it any chance I could.” Maroon coats your cheekbones. He furrows his dark brows in confusion.

“Monte Carlo? You know, starring Selena Gomez?” His soft features pinch together. “...Leighton Meester? Katie Cassidy?” You desperatelyspit your words, trying to assist. He continues shaking his head. Never heard of it.

Your mood grows sulky as you pout. Leaning back, you finally take a sip of your drink. Oh, well now I really want something stronger than this.

“I would love to watch it some time though!” Charles tries as his voice cracks. He winces.

“Sure!” Though, you're not looking at him anymore. Your eyes are trained behind him. He’s about to turn around and ask if you’re fine, when you finally speak up. “I think I’ll go to the bar for another drink. Be right back!” He huffs. 

You weren’t back for almost too long. Finally, deciding to go look for you, he stands and takes long strides all around the dark restaurant. When he finds you he sees you’re not alone. 

A man in an all black suit seems to be your new company. You giggle as he appears to slide some type of business card to you. Just as you're about to grab it Charles strolls over to you both.

“Is your drink finally ready?” he asks as he wraps a protective arm around your waist. You flinch. You hadn’t even seen him walk over.

“Charles!” you shriek, as you crumble the piece of paper into the palm of your hard, hurriedly. You pray that he hadn’t noticed, but he had. Something inside of him told him not to ask. “I was actually on my way back. Did you need anything? A drink?” you ask, furrowing your brows attentively. 

“No, thank you, amour,” Charles warmly replies, looking into your glossy eyes. You truly were the best thing he’s ever laid eyes on.

“My apologies for getting in the way.” The man extends his hand out to Charles. “Aiden Quinn, pleasure to meet you.”

Charles may be upset that Aiden ruined his date, but he wasn’t keen on being rude, so begrudgingly, he shook his hand. “Charles Leclerc.” See, normally Charles isn’t the type to throw his name out like that expectantly, but he felt as if he had a point to make. He did, though. I was here first. 

The man grins ear to ear, nodding. “Yes, that’s where I know you from. I knew you looked familiar. Formula 1 driver, right? Ferrari?” He points with a knowing smile. 

“Scuderia’s number one driver, yes.” His grip around your waist stays secure. Meanwhile, your eyes are open to their fullest. Surprisingly, you had no idea. 

“Certainly. I’m one of the team's ambassadors, actually,” Aiden challenges. Charles clenches his jaw. “When you have million dollar businesses all around the world, you try to find a place to help. Ferrari really needs it at the moment.” You’re equally as shocked with Aiden as you are with Charles.

“Well then, I’ll make sure to dedicate my next podium to you I suppose." You shift uncomfortably. This reminds him you’re there. With him. Ha! Take that, Quinn! “Anyhow, I would love to chit chat with fellow fans, but I must say we have to get going.” He holds your hand firmly as he leads you out.

“Goodbye, Aiden!” you beam as you depart ways. 

-

“Formula 1 driver now, is it?” you curiously ask as you look over where he has one hand over the steering wheel and running the other calmly through his hair. 

“Thought you knew.”

“I had no clue! Zip!” you shriek as fling your arms through the air. He laughs as he pulls into an abandoned parking lot. 

“In the mood for something sweet?”

-

“Grazie mille,” the Monegasque says as he's handed cones of freshly made gelato. Smiling, he makes his way back to you. Hands you per requested raspberry, as he keeps his lemon one. 

“Molto gentile.” You inspect and nod your head in approval. Just hearing your tongue curl in Italian has him swooning. You take a lick and release a soft moan. “So sweet. Best I’ve ever had,” you declare as you continue enjoying your treat innocently.

Charles gulps, trying to cool down. “I told you it was the best.” He shoots a wink over to Luca, the owner, for keeping the shop open for a few more minutes. 

“You scared me a bit back there.”

“Pfft. With that Aiden guy…I’m sorry about that–”

“God no. Honestly, I completely forgot about that,” you mutter. “I meant with that whole, ‘In the mood for something sweet?’. Thought you were like the rest.”

The 25 year old keeps quiet for a minute. He gathers his thoughts before settling with, “I promise I’m not.”

“Keeping my fingers crossed you aren’t.” You look around with twinkling eyes. “You know, a date I once had asked me-”

You want a slice?

No.

“It shocked me how straight forward he was being. It wasn’t even our second date! I barely even knew the guy.” You frown at the memory. “Then he blamed it on the tiramisu.”

I meant the tiramisu, guys!

God no. 

“Never saw him again,” you finish as you finally focus back on him. A pale Charles is all you find.

“Woah, are you okay?” 

“Yes! I’m so good! You look lovely! Did I mention it already cause if I didn’t then call me the worst date ever!” He begins nervously laughing. His gelato dripping all over his arm.

“I think you did.” You smile as you hand him a few napkins. He returns the gesture, thanking you. “And don’t worry about it, leave that spot for Lando. Now he might take the crown.”

Charles let out a groan.

-

Charles went back and forth deciding whether he should reach out to you. He liked you. A lot. Nonetheless, he was hesitating because he just couldn’t do something like that to Lando. The Brit was as bummed out as one could get. So, it's settled. Bye bye baby.

“Of course. Tonight at 8,” your voice confirms on the other side of the line. Charles celebrates with a quick dance.

“See you then.”

-

He decides today that he wants to switch things up. Do something that would make him stand out from anyone that came before him. 

“Monaco?” Leaning on the hood of Charles' car, you feel you have to be dreaming. He nods his head lively.

“I could show you around, y’know be your personal tour guide.”

“You should have warned me! I don’t have anything ready!” you yelp as you hold your hands over your heart, frantically. He would be more worried if it weren’t for you smiling like the Cheshire Cat.

“We still have time. Come on, I’ll help you pack.”

-

When you make it to Monaco you’re greeted by a young guy wearing glasses, driving a Ferrari Pista. Charles and him fit in a quick embrace before they turn their attention back to you.

“Ah yes, this is Joris. He’s one of my closest friends,” Charles states as you warmly reach for a handshake. 

Reciprocating, Joris says, “Very nice to meet you.” You smile, returning the greeting. “Must say, you are just as beautiful as Cha had mentioned, if not more.” You blush as Charles clears his throat awkwardly.

“D'accord, mec. Pas besoin de le dire au monde entier,” Charles mutters. “Thank you for picking us up.” Joris nods, carrying your luggages. You share a quick goodbye before he finally makes his way to another car. “That’s also one of my very good friends, Marta.” You smile and wave as they drive off. 

Monaco definitely met your expectations. Everything just captivated your attention so much that you wouldn’t be surprised if you started to drool. 

“Holy shit. Your home is absolutely stunning!” you gasp. He wheels your bags in as he exhales.

“Merci. Make yourself at home.”

-

Thankfully, the flight was quick so you both have plenty of energy to go out for a late night snack. He takes you to his; Favorite place in the world! You’ll see.

A little stand sits in the corner of the street. 

“Lou makes one of the best crepes. Trust me, I’ve been a loyal customer since my school days.”

A little old lady is attending to customers, but stops as soon as she spots Charles. “Charlie! Chérie, je ne savais pas que tu étais de retour!” She makes her way around to hug him.

“Des projets de dernière minute, mais j'ai juste envie de manger une de tes incroyables crêpes,” he replies, as they pull away.

“And who is this pretty girl?” she questions as she looks at you, standing there patiently.

“Oop, hello. I’m a friend of Charles.” Lou smiles teasingly.

“Charlie, tu es là pour me dire que tu vas te marier?” Lou suddenly looks over the moon.

“Non!” he quickly shouts, so suddenly, you and Lou both jump a bit. Tight lipped, he apologizes.

“Like she said, we’re just friends."

-

The next morning after breakfast he recommends you bring something you can swim with. Skipping your way to his room, which he is kindly sacrificing for you, you roam through your luggage until you find a baby blue bikini. 

“You don’t get sea sick by any means, right?” He looks over at you with scrunched brows underneath a pair of glossy black Ray Bans. You shake your head.

“Great.”

You make your way to a tiny boat before he helps you settle in. You grab his hand softly as you step into it. A single touch of electricity seems to link your fingertips. It catches you both so off guard that he lets go of you so swiftly, you don’t even notice as you plunge into the water.

You let out a quick yelp before you go underwater and his hands fly to his head in embarrassment. You resurface with wet hair covering your face.

“Oh my God, I am so sorry!” he apologizes before extending his arm out for you to grab. Pushing your hair out of your face, you giggle. 

“It’s okay, I got it.”

Once you independently get on the boat, he unties the rope off the deck and takes a seat himself to drive you both to the unknown destination.

“Pretty please, can I know now where we’re going?” you squeal with puppy eyes. 

Lord help me, he thinks before replying. “We’re going to a little island I love. Îles de Lérins.” You look ahead, nodding patiently. “It’s beautiful, you’ll see.”

-

When you arrive it’s easy to understand that there doesn’t seem to be that many people. You basically have the place to yourselves.

He helps you off, not dropping you this time. There’s a small trail you both begin to take. It’s something peaceful, the moment you’re in. You almost wish to fit it into a snow globe. 

“My parents would always bring my brothers and I here all the time during summer when we were younger,” Charles confesses.

“You have brothers?” 

He turns to look at you, then continues ahead. “Yes. Two.” He kicks a rock out of his way, but something you didn’t know was just how clumsy this man child could be.

“Ouch!” you groan in pain as your hand flies up to your nose.

“Jesus! What’s wrong with me today? Are you okay? I’m so sorry!” He runs to you all panicky now.

You take it back. Break the goddamn snow globe.

You try tilting your head back to ease the blood pouring out your nose before he gently grips your face to gain your attention. You scrunch your eyes, sun suddenly blinding you. Quickly, he takes off his glasses and places them over your eyes. As you open them you notice he’s shirtless. He places his shirt on your nose to clean you up. You flinch a bit.

Instantly, you’re thankful for the sunglasses because wondering eyes were all you could give him. His lean muscles were just begging to be praised. 

You shake your head before taking the Puma shirt from him. “Thanks,” you mutter as you focus on a nearby tree. “Starting to think you might hate me or something.”

“Of course not... I could never hate you!” His voice cracks in nervousness. You snicker.

After a bit more wiping, you are as good as new. You both decide to take a dip while the water feels good. You strip from your Levi shorts and t-shirt. Dipping a toe to test the temperature, you shoot him two thumbs up. 

The ocean feels so fresh and silky against your skin. You can’t seem to remember the last time you’ve enjoyed someone’s company like this, even if they almost ruled you to the ends of Earth. Two fingers press against your neck. You spring one eye open and you see Charles biting down on his thumb. He relaxes.

“Sorry, I thought you crossed the line to the afterlife.”

You tread water to stretch your legs out. “I’m fine.”

He takes this time to note things he hadn’t paid attention to before. Like how your lashes pin against your skin since they’re wet. Or how a tiny bit of freckles are sprinkled on your nose. He curses himself for not having seen it any sooner. Pretty was an understatement. You were extraordinary. 

A few hours later you guys are back at his house sharing a pizza. Pepperoni, you both loved a classic.

“There’s no bruise,” he points out almost proudly. You shoot a playful scowl. He walks over to the T.V. and clicks the remote. “Monte Carlo?”

He loved it, the way you said he would. He especially enjoyed watching how much you loved it. 

“This movie was too ahead of its time,” you confirm as you dig your feet under the blanket you had curled into. 

“Well at least Grace and Theo got their happily ever after,” he pronounces. You shoot an impressed look. “What? I was listening.” You crawl up next to him and pat his cheek. His dimples pop out from how hard he’s smiling. 

He can’t help it the moment he reaches to cradle your face to press your lips together. He can’t help but let a moan slip out when you finally kiss him back. 

Finally, he picks you up to adjust you on his lap, which you comfortably settle into. You feel him underneath you so clearly you can’t help but move your hips. He feels so good.

The heated moment continues as he wraps his hands around the curve of your ass. You pull away as your lips move down to his neck. He almost gasps the moment you lick down his throat. It doesn’t help that you’ve been keeping your hips in motion. 

He almost passes out the moment your lips move to his ear and ask, no, beg; Let me taste you, please. How could he ever deny such offer?

Making your way down to your knees, he adjusts himself on the couch. He thinks to himself that if he were standing he would’ve made a fool out of himself because just the sight of you in front of him has him choking on his own breath. You just look so pretty.

You tug his shorts down, along with his boxers, and bite down on your lip as you grab his cock, softly. He has to stop himself from jerking into your hand. Precum sprouting from his tip. You can’t wait as you take kitten licks. Fuck, he whimpers. The sound of his voice makes you squeeze your thighs together.

Wrapping your lips around him, your hands reach to balance yourself against his thighs. You moan at the feeling of having him inside your mouth, drooling all over his lap.

This itself, is too much for Charles and thinks he’ll barely even be able to survive as his head turns against the couch' pillow with closed lids. You start bobbing your head and one hand flings down to jerk off what you can’t reach. He groans at the feeling. 

You start off slow but suddenly start picking up your pace. He opens his eyes, dazed, to catch a glimpse of you on your knees and this sight is something he won’t be able to forget even if he tried. With glassy eyes, you look up at him. You make a show of releasing your lips from his cock as you lap your tongue along it. Before going back at it, you twirl your tongue a couple of times around his tip before giving it a quick suck, then deep throat him. 

He grits his teeth as if to help deal with any of this but when you start toying with yourself he lets out the loudest whine he’s ever produced. You look up smiling, grazing your teeth lightly along him and he hisses at the feeling. Proudly, you fit him back into your mouth. 

“God, your mouth feels so fucking good,” he manages to get out before you solely start jerking him off.

“What about my hands?” you seductively tease. The sounds coming from both your hands and his cock should be considered a sin itself. He groans as he looks back to make eye contact with you.

“Your hands too, baby.”

He knows he’s close the moment you twist your wrist perfectly. So so good. You know he’s close when he begins to twitch underneath your fingertips. 

“I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum,” he chants as you continue your dirty movements. He makes sure to look at you, focused, eyes drawn to his cock.

“Cum for me, Charles,” you coo as he finally bucks his hips into your hands and hot cum shoots all over your face. You wickedly smile as your lips reach his cock to continue swallowing the rest that is being released. He grabs you face to pull you off him and hauls you once again onto his lap. He’s about to kiss you before you pull away and point at the mess on your face. 

You wipe two fingers along your face and bring them to your mouth to clean them off. A pop is released when you let go. He shudders. 

This is the moment, Charles realizes, he’s so screwed.

-

When you make it back to Italy you realize that all you’ll have are a few fleeting moments together. With Charles going back to racing and you continuing your online classes, you’re both bound to be booked.

Though, Charles just isn’t ready to let you go. And a fucked up man will make fucked up choices when due.

So, he strings you along with him to the Miami GP. He realizes there’s a strong chance you might bump shoulders with Lando, but to be completely honest, he was past caring. He was completely smitten with you.

-

You wear your white summer dress as you are sprawled on his hotel bed. You’re a mess.

“Shit, shit, shit,” you whimper as Charles fingers slip in and out of you. He’s feverishly kissing down the side of your thighs, bites left in between. You groan in slight pain as you tug on his soft hair. This man has brought out the moon and stars, for you.

“C’mon baby, look at me,” he whispers as he paints you with hickeys in between your legs. Somewhere no one else will ever be able to catch a glimpse of. You nod your head as you look down to find him gripping your dress over your thighs, eating you out like a starved man. You shut your eyes as you release a few soft pants, the heels of your feet press deeper against his Ferrari polo.

“Open you’re eyes.”

You shake your head. You wish you could look at him, you really wanted to, but it’s just too much take in. You wanted to make this last.

But Charles was greedy. He wanted to taste you. He stops everything all at once. You let out a cry. Fuck him.

You bring your arms around his neck, loosely, as he kisses your shoulder. “Why’d you stop?”

“You weren’t looking at me.”

With all your strength you open your glittered eyelids. 

“That’s a good girl,” he coos as he picks you up and sits you at the edge of the bed. You look down at him confused as he gets on his knees in front of you.

“If you can’t look at me, then you’re going to have to look at yourself,” he directs as he begins to push your dress back up your waist. You lean against your elbows as you realize what other than Charles is in front of you.

A shiny glass mirror.

With a slightly open mouth you’re about to protest before Charles picks up right where he left off. He spits on your clit before rubbing it. You bite down on your bottom lip so hard, you draw blood. 

“Don’t tell me I have to get you to moan now?” Charles stares at you with furrowed brows. You shake your head no before he kisses your knee. “Good.”

He makes sure you look straight at your reflection before he curls his fingers inside of you. You mewl at the touch. Your legs beg to bring him closer.

He lets out a light chuckle before repeating his motion. With sleepy eyes, you stare at the way your legs rest against his shoulders. You had painted your nails bloody mary a few nights before, in support of him and his team. Your face all fucked up singly by Charles’ long fingers and delicate touch, red lipstick all over your mouth from how heavy your make out with Charles had been.

To him, you looked like an angel. 

You squeal as he presses his nose against your pussy. You grind against his face. He pulls away and you whine, looking at him desperately.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. You’re okay,” he reassures you as he moves up to kiss your cheek and then your pouty lips. 

“Cha, please,” you beg hopelessly. He grins as he pushes your hair out of your face and runs his thumb across your lips trying to clean you up a bit.

You take a chance and wrap your lips around his finger, and you begin to suck. Expertly, you swirl your tongue. Eyes look back at him, almost challenging. He lets out a strained groan.

With all the willpower he has left, he removes his finger from your mouth. Nicely wet, he presses it back where you needed him the most.

“Thank you, baby, you shouldn’t have.” You cry out at the sudden size of his thumb now being inside of you. He switches out his thumb for his middle and ring finger. You throw your head back. All the back and forth almost has you blacking out a few times. Charles gives you a quick peck, fingers building speed, as he pulls your dress down a bit to release your plump tits.

Now he’s at a loss for words. Quickly, he regains his composure and starts sucking on your left nipple, legs squeezing around his waist as a reflex. One hand flies to the back of his head as one makes its way to cup his cheek adoringly.

He moans against you, sucking hard before moving his attention to your right nipple. The way you’re wailing against him has him painfully hard against his jeans.

“Yes, God yes right there, Charlie,” you let out as you grind against his hand. He detaches his lips from your chest as he smiles up at you. 

“I’m right here, baby. Cum for me, yeah?” You let out the most pornographic moan as you finish around his hand. Tears make their way down your cheeks. Cleans his fingers, he shuts his eyes satisfied, before he towers over your body, pressing kisses all over.

You giggle. “That tickles." The 25 year old’s heart doubles in size at the sound of your fucked out voice. 

“Why don’t we get you cleaned up before the race?”

-

The race results weren't the best Charles has had, that’s for sure. Head hung, he makes his way to his motorhome. There he finds you on the tiny little bed, curled up, watching the rest of the ongoing interviews. As soon as you notice him you jump up to your feet and walk to him.

It's almost as if you knew how down he was feeling when you wrap your arms around his waist and pressing your face against his chest. He instantly feels better as his arms swaddle over your shoulders, chin atop your pretty hair.

“You did good,” you mumble. You press a faint kiss on his suit before looking up.

“I fucked up. I got P7.”

You frown at him before holding his face between your soft palms. “P7 is good, what do you mean?” He just shakes his head. “You’ve never heard of seven being a lucky number?”

He scoffs, but not at you, never you. More at himself. “Lucky?”

You pull away and sit back on his bed. “Oh yeah, seven bring all the luck in the world!” you squeal, as you plop on the bed. He laughs lightly as he lies beside you.

“Guess I’ll just take your word for it.” He hums with his eyes closed.

You turn on your side as you try to memorize his face. Like the small mole that sits on the left side of his face that makes him even more handsome, if anyone asks for your opinion. You scold yourself for not having noticed it before. As if to fix things, you name it one of your favorite things about him.

“You should. Things will get better, you’ll see.”

For once, he really believes it.

-

You both are walking out of the Ferrari home when you're suddenly stopped by someone calling Charles’ name. 

“Hey, Charles! Great race man!” A familiar voice rings through the air before you both have a chance to turn around. Both you and Charles, unknowingly of one another, want to make a run for it.

“Thanks, Lando,” Charles replies as he prays he might not notice you. But a girl as beautiful as you can’t go forgotten.

“Holy shit it’s you!” Lando wails as he instantly recognizes you from dinner a few months ago. You cringe. What the chances?

“Hi,” you squeak as you hide behind Charles a bit. You had no idea Lando was a Formula 1 driver too. You ought to do your research better next time.

“Mate! This is the chick I was telling you about over dinner last time!” Lando says, eyes almost popping out of his face from the shock he’s in.

“You don’t sayyyy.” Charles tries to hide it, though inside he’s freaking out as if he’s broken every FIA rule in the book.

“Hey, I want to say sorry for that night, I should have been more clear,” Lando begins to spill his apologies, as all you can do is silently stand there, accepting them all.

“Of course. Long forgotten,” you comfort the Brit. He’s actually a pretty sweet guy. 

“Charles, I’ll wait for you outside, alright?” you utter as he nods. Once you walk out, he turns to Lando frantically.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know that was the same girl you were upset about!” he tells him. Liar. “You must be mad at me and I get it-”

“Nope.”

Charles stares back, caught off guard by Lando’s response. 

“You’re not?” 

Lando rolls his eyes. “I’m not. I just hope you realize what she’s capable of.” He leans in closer to Charles’ ear and Charles leans in too, expectantly. “I’ve heard stories, man…”

Charles immediately pulls away. “Okay, we’re done here. Bye mate!”

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you!”

But Charles knew you better. He saw the way you looked at him. The way you felt. You were different. Fuck your following reputation.

“Ready?” 

-

When you got back from Miami, something had shifted. He couldn’t quite name the moment it had, but he was sure of it. He didn’t care though. He would put up with just about anything as long as that meant having you around.

“And then he told me to test the car again, said it was fixed. Fixed my ass!” Charles tells you over FaceTime. You were sitting in your bedroom, painting nonsense on a canvas. You wore some old overalls with loose space buns. Strands of hair would hit the paint from how messy it was.

“No way,” you say, not looking up. Charles smiles fondly.

“You look lovely by the way.” Though, you don’t seem to catch his affirmation for you. Your eyes are focused on something out of frame, in front of you. A quick smirk appears on your face but slips so fast that he almost begins to think he’s imagined it.

“Thank you, Charles,” you reply with a much bigger smile now. “Hey, how about I meet you at your house at 9? I’ll cook you a nice meal, promise.”

Like always, he knows he shouldn’t ask and also knows he can’t say no to you.

“I’ll be waiting.”

-

That night when you step into his house he notices things he wishes weren’t there. Like how your hair was a tad bit messy or how there were light bruises on your neck. He knows those didn’t come from him. He’d always been mindful to mark you in places no one else could admire, just him. Something bugs him knowing someone has seen them already.

“I’m so sorry I’m late." You rush in with bags from the nearby market, the one just around the corner from his flat.

“No worries. So, what will we be cooking, my little chef?”

That night you seem so infatuated by him, he truly thinks this all was his imagination. Maybe the wind blew your hair on your way here; he should have offered to pick you up. Maybe he forgot he had also marked your neck; he’ll make sure to be more careful next time.

He wraps his arms around your waist as you cut pieces of basil. Giggling, you turn around to peck his lips. Craving more from you, he lifts you up onto the kitchen island. He stands in between your legs as you stare up at him, ever a vixen.

As you lock lips, he picks you up, you yelp all giddy. He makes his way over to his bedroom, your lips lingering on his neck, he almost drops you from how good it feels.

“Careful, don’t need another wack in the face,” you mumble from his neck, light spirited. He rolls his eyes at your comment, but yeah, he should probably focus. 

Finally reaching his room, he kicks the door open so hard, it flies and instantly makes a hole through the wall. You gasp as he groans.

“Fuck it, it’s fine,” he murmurs as he takes you to his bed where he drops you. You giggle as your hair covers your face, he makes his way to hover over you and brush it away.

“You know I would do anything for you?” he asks, tenderness lacing his voice.

You stare back at him with bright and eager eyes. “Yeah. I know.”

He smiles as he leans down to kiss you and you instantly melt into the mattress beneath you. He kisses you so fast, so hot, that it has you feeling lightheaded. I’ve been kissed before but never, ever, like this, you think as he slips his tongue as a quick trick. You moan with pleasure. He smiles into the kiss. 

He picks his head up to get a good look at the angel the universe had ever so nicely sent his way. He caresses you gingerly. “Are you sure, chérie?”

You nod up and down eagerly, ready for more he’s willing to give. You are so desperate you would gladly take anything as long as it's from him. A flash of sadness strikes your face before it’s replaced with a warm smile. 

“We don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to,” he comforts you as he begins to take a step back. You quickly hold onto his veiny arm. 

“I want to,” you confirm. You bring him back to you as you kiss him for the millionth time that night. Even that would never be enough. 

His hands make their way to slip your dress off. Once you're left in your matching lingerie, you push him on his back and straddle him.

“Holy shit,” he nervously laughs as you started to unbutton his linen shirt. He pulls his arm out as you sloppily brush your lips down his smooth chest, fingers tracing his firm abs. Then, as you’re about to pull his pants down, he grabs your hands firmly. You glance at him, confusion written all over your face.

“Ladies first,” he teases. You roll your eyes, but still slip out a quick, okay, before settling under him once again. He kisses down your neck gently as you hum out, finding peace with his lips hovering your body. Every new kiss he places on your soft skin makes you feel thousands of butterflies. You’d never experienced something like this before, you’ve never felt so flawless. 

Clumsy fingers roam your back as he unclips your bra then strips you from your panties. Seeing you completely bare has his dumbstruck. This is something he could easily get used to. 

His hands make their way to squeeze your tits, your head digs deeper into the mattress as you release a soft whimpers. Charles grows harder by the second, already getting rid of the rest of his clothes as quickly as he can.

He tugs you closer to him by your legs. A laugh rolls past your lips. Resting both arms by either side of your head, he pushes into you. Synchronously, you both let out a moan. You dig your nails into his shoulder as he grips onto the sheets. 

You feel so tight around him that it takes all of him not to lose control. You throw your arm over your face, face scrunched.

Putting his feelings aside, Charles leans down and plants a kiss on your arm. “C’mon baby, not again. Look at me.”

“I can’t…,” you cry out weakly, “...too big.”

“You just have to adjust,” he reassures you as he begins to move in and out of you. Your arms fly up to his neck and you grab on tight, as if he’s keeping you ashore. You moan loudly.

“That’s it, baby,” he whispers as he thrusts deep inside of you. Your velvety walls feel like home to him and he never wants to leave. 

You squirm when his cock hits your sweet spot. You yell into the nothingness and your grip on his hair tightens so much, he groans at the sensation. His hips pick up speed, and suddenly, he’s kissing you again. You whine into his lips, needy for more. Harder. 

As if he could read your mind, that's exactly what he does. Your lips form a silent O as you stare at him with eyebrows drawn together. He just feel so fucking good.

“Fuck baby,” he groans, voice deep. You shiver at the sound. “God, you feel so good, you’re doing so good,” he praises you as he now looks into your eyes. You wail in response, too fucked up to form any kind of sentence.

“I love you so much,” he announces so suddenly, you almost push him away. He keeps moving rapidly as he makes out with you eagerly.

As you kiss him back you realize something scary; you love Charles Leclerc. You think you’ve loved him for a while now, but having never been in love, you didn’t seem to notice the feeling. But you do now.

“I love you, too,” you murmur against his lips. When he pulls away you notice you’ve never seen him smile so big. You like being the reason behind it.

He immediately pounds into you harder, not holding back anymore and you’re both a mess. You moan so loud, you’re almost embarrassed but Charles seems to love it.

“If you love me,” he pants, “then tell me his name.”

He continues normally, but you swear you feel your heart stop. There’s no way.

“What are you talking about?” you manage to spit out, but the way he’s handling your body has you seeing stars.

“Please,” a desperate look flashes across his face, “just tell me his name.” His watch covered hand makes its way to your clit and he pushes his finger against it. God, his fingers are so-

“There’s no one.” Liar. “There’s just you.”

With that, you flip him over so now you’re on top of him. Hastily, you start to ride him, making sure to move your hips just the way he likes it. His head falls back against the bed frame as his fingers dig into your hips. You bite your swollen lips in slight pain, but also, just by looking at his current state.

Cheeks slightly pink with sweaty hair covering his face. Long disheveled hair that you pressed him not to trim quite yet. What a sight for sore eyes.

“Please,” he chokes out, “just tell me his name and I swear I’ll never bring it up again.” He opens his eyes to look up at you. His voice hitches when he sees you hopping on his dick, tits bouncing up and down. You throw your head back and circle your hips much harder.

“Fuck.” Charles gasps as he reaches up to attach his lips to your chest. He licks before softly biting down against your bud. You exhale sharply. He then lays back and holds onto your hips harder before helping you move on top of him. Wrapped around him, the motion between both of you picks up so fast you start shaking your head no.

“Yes, amour, say it. Please just tell me before I lose my fucking mind,” he grunts as he stares down at your juices as they make the filthiest sound against his own. 

“I swear Charles, I promise, that I have never loved anyone the way I do you,” you confess as you sink your nails against his chest, red marks instantly mapping themselves down.

“Beautiful fucking liar.” Charles smirks as he moves his fingers against your clit rapidly. With that, your walls clench around him as you cum so hard around him he can’t help but follow. You moan loudly as you fall against his chest as he groans lowly. 

Trying to even your breathing, you grab onto his hand. Instantly, he brings it up against his lips. Just the touch of his makes you want to ride him until you can’t no more. 

You meant what you said that night. Though you both should have known better. Being naive can’t always last forever.

-

“Then she left a note saying it’s best we just remain friends,” Charles reveals a few nights later over dinner. Everyone shares glances of empathy to the distraught Monegasque. Even Lando.

“It’s alright man, you’ll be over her before you know it,” Lando states as he shares a knowing smile. Charles bites down on his tongue knowing all this pent of anger wasn’t towards Lando. Not even for you. 

He would like to say that he learned his lesson and that he should have listened to everyone, all the warning signs that glowed above his head. But he knows damn well he would do it all over again if given the chance. He would say, do anything, to change your mind. To make you stay, but people like you never settled. 

Moping, Charles changes the topic as he begins asking how everyone’s break was. He didn’t really care, but he tried to pretend. 

Out of breath, Oscar rushes over to the table. “Sorry I’m late,” he says as he sits down in between Lando and Charles.

“No worries, mate, Charles was just filling us in on his expired love life,” Daniel fills in, nonchalantly. Charles immediately shoots a dry frown. Daniel shares an apologetic shrug.

“Oh. That sucks man,” the young Australian replies as he gulps down some water. “Speaking of love lives, you guys won’t believe it! I just met the prettiest girl of my entire life just now outside of the restaurant!”

[stvolanis]

What about rafe with a reader who talks a lot land has a bubbly personality and he’s getting annoyed cause she’s just talking on and on and he’s already in a bad mood and so her just talking he’s getting annoyed and like he makes a comment of “why don’t you stop talking and put your mouth to a better use” (sorry for how badly worded this is)

hi! I kinda imagine this as maybe bestfriend!Rafe who kinda manipulates the reader yk? Also knocking two birds w/ one stone by adding a little bit from a different request, hope you don’t mind!💞

Rafe Cameron! who loves his silly little best friend who he’s had a claim on since 6th grade :). Always so sweet to him when you guys were in school together. Giving him the answers, walking with him to all your classes, rides home after school with you on aux cause how could he ever say no to you? Not to mention the fact that he knew you harbored a little crush on him—

Rafe Cameron! Who knew you were heavily inexperienced in the sexual realm of things, which he made sure of after he beat up every guy who even thought they’d be able to breathe the same air as you. He takes great pride in being able to teach you things no one else will. Of course you’d question it, looking up at him with those pretty doe eyes that make his cock pulse with confusion when you guys were in the back seat of his truck one day. “Rafey, I dunno if we should do this—feels weird.” You muttered, your hand tightly wrapped around his cock with his hand shoved down your pants. “Thought you wanted to take care of me, sweetheart? This is just what best friends are supposed to do.”

Rafe Cameron! Who’s been having an exhaustingly annoying day after another group fight between the kooks and pogues. He’s a little scratched up, moping around your house as you go on and on about why he shouldn’t have fought, what could have happened—and then suddenly trailing off to your favorite pasta shell? It was hurting his head. Too much for him to process as he rubbed his temple, watching you babble mindlessly.

Rafe Cameron! Who finally has had enough of your constant yapping. “God, baby, you ever shut the fuck up? Hm? Jus’ be fuckin’ quiet, little girl.” He hissed through clenched teeth, pinching your cheeks together harshly to cease your talking, yet the way your eyes watered and thighs clenched together didn’t go unnoticed. “Think you jus’ need somethin’ stuffed in there so you’ll shut up. That it?” He mocked. You looked up at him from your knees, confused as to what he was referring to.

Rafe Cameron! Who’s cock slapped against your waiting tongue in a taunting manner. Curved slightly, with trimmed hair at the base and heavy balls. His scent strong, consuming your mind with an aching throb between your thighs you knew only Rafe could help. “Gonna teach you how to suck dick like a pro, kay?” He urged, pushing his fat tip into your mouth, further and further till the sounds of you gagging and gasping for air around him was all he could hear, and tears running down your pretty face was all he could see. “That’s my girl. See? All you needed was some good dick to shut cha’little ass up, huh?” He cooed.

don’t be shy, ask to be a part of the tag list and request things!!

TAG LIST: @elvisalltheway101 @epthedream69 @claire-elvisgirl @elvisrealgf @littlehoneyposts @ireallydontcareanymorebrooo @luxuriouslokistan-3 @foxevxid @sapriao @xiyingly @jazminsjaz @likeits2002 @www-interludeshadow-com @khxna @my-fabulousness-has-arrived @hockeyrat @rafeswhorejjsslut @peterpan-neverfails @sunflowerskenz @lemonadygirl @newavenger @bloobewy @hewwokitti3

[diamondocean001]

Hi, may I request SFW/NSFW Kokushibo x human fem!reader hcs comforting her on her period? (With a heavy flow and bad cramps😭) (If you’re comfortable writing that ofc (っ- ‸ - ς)

OMG I love this idea so much!!!

(I get killer cramps too so ik where you're coming from)

Tw: smut (this man's tongue going crazy)

(I put the NSFW/smut at the end in case you want to skip)

--------------------------------------------------

Kokushibo has had a wife before so he vaguely knows what a period is but not how to help. He spent more time fighting demons

But now that he's immortal and has met you? He'd burn the world if it meant you wouldn't feel an ounce of pain

He'd cater to your specific needs. Hot water bottle? Got it! Chocolate? Immediately there! Even just cuddle, the man would drop everything to do it. Such a gentleman

He'd also be over supplied. Pads/tampons for months

If you bleed through (we've all been there) he'll notice in an instant. He'd hug wrap his jacket around your waist to hide the stain and whisper in your ear to let you know

He'd wash your clothes too! Not a single stain by the time he's done

Knees tucked to your chest and face buried into your pillow. You had one hand over your gut as if that would stop the pain of God's curse.

The bed dips behind you, signalling the arrival of your demon boyfriend. Strong arms snake around your waist as he presses a hot water bottle to your abdomen. You couldn't help but let out a groan of relief.

"Kokuuuu."

His other hand runs through your hair.

"Is there anything else you need, moonlight?"

Rolling over, you bury your face on his chest and grumble something vaguely along the lines of "cuddles".

Kokushibo chuckles softly, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you further into him.

"Of course."

--------------------------------------------------

NSFW (can skip if you want)

It can't be forgotten that this man is a demon

He'll know your on your period from the smell of the blood and my word is it so delectable to him

He'd pin you down, tongue delving into you just to taste you blood (with your consent of course)

"F-Fuck! Koku." You groan, fingers embedded in his hair.

Kokushibo lay, head between your thighs, tongue deep in your folds, licking up any drop of your blood and cum he can. And my lord is he merciless with it.

"You taste so good moonlight. So fucking good."

You arch your back, grinding against his face, his nails digging deeper into the flesh of your hips as a response.

You'd lost track of how many times you've came but you knew there was still more to come.

--------------------------------------------------

Sorry its short but I hope you enjoyed reading it

[wutheringcaterpillar]

Jim from TDS gets so fuzzy brained and dumb when he’s pounding into Y/N, because he wanted her for so long and he finally has her. he feels he deserves to have what he wants, and also making sure everyone knows she belongs to him.

Y/N could be either Jim’s son’s gf/ex-gf, Jim’s daughter’s best friend, or Jim’s best friend 🫣

Btw you’re doing such a great job with your fics!!!

Warnings: Age gap (Jim is in his 40s, reader between 18-25), p in v, Jim’s a bad dad, unprotected sex, creampie, stalking social media, mentions of masturbating, taking inappropriate photos without consent, hickies

Thank you for the request I had a lot of fun with this! Hope you enjoy!❤️

Jim was reclined in his bed, his hand massaging his hardened member while he scrolled through social media photos of you. He was completely fucked ever since the day his son brought you home and may or may not have developed unhealthy coping mechanisms that his son had what he couldn’t.

Even in his dreams he could see your attractive silhouette, continuously replaying fake scenarios of you straddling him, on your knees batting those innocent lashes up at him begging for his cock.

You had him wrapped around your fucking finger without even knowing, you were completely and utterly hypnotizing.

“Fuck y/n..” He kept replaying a video on the beach, only thing covering you was a skimpy little bikini. Jim could just imagine what was underneath, reminiscing how even when he lay in the sun tanning chair, he couldn’t help but snag a few photos when you weren’t paying attention.

Position of you bent over picking up pebbles from the sand, when you came up for air from the water, specs of water droplets painting your chest, running down your cleavage.

He needed to have you, wanted to be entangled in the sheets with you, hearing you moan his name lustfully, screaming as he made you cum.

Your body was so young, hardly flawed, and had curves in all the right places. He hated to see you leave the house but loved to watch you walk away.

In the midst of coming to his high, the door slammed downstairs and he could hear yelling, what sounded to be you.

Curious, and for caution he pulled up his pants, huffing in irritation that he was interrupted from his intrusive, sexual imaginations.

“You are such an ass! Just because I enjoyed an evening with my friends doesn’t give you the right to go out with some random girls to some party and kiss them! You’re ridiculous, did you even think about me for a singular moment?!” This was the moment Jim had been waiting for, as awful as it may sound, he wanted you two to break up. He wanted the opportunity to arise for him to be there when you’re upset, knowing that there was a chance for you two to be together.

Jim wasn’t stupid, there were many times where you “accidentally” brushed past him inappropriately, there were plenty of stolen glances and obscene gestures whenever his son Caleb wasn’t around. You wanted him just as much, but due to your relationship with his son, you hadn’t gone any further. He’d constantly have to excuse himself to the restroom to deal with the repurcussions, seeking out a sweet release.

“You’re over reacting, besides I’ve been meaning to put an end to this dwindling flame. We were never going to work so figured, why not just end it the easy way.” Jim was in shock that Caleb would do such a thing to a girl, especially you. He had taught him better than that, granted he did cheat on his mother but that was besides the point.

Hearing footsteps run up the stairs followed by a door slam, Jim poked his head out hearing your sniffles from downstairs. What kind of man would he be to not check in and ensure you were okay?

“Y/N?” You were seated on the cushioned sofa, mascara flowing messly down your cheeks from weeping, but that voice…that masculine, caring, attractive voice had your glancing up from your emotional turmoil.

Jim was standing there in his pajama pants and black t-shirt, his reading glasses tucked in the hem of his shirt while his peppery hair was slightly disheveled.

“Oh I’m sorry, I was just going to head out. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“No, no. Stay please. My son’s an idiot and I can assure you I didn’t raise him to be that way.” He took a seat next to you, trying to act concerned when in reality his eyes kept glancing at your thighs, the way your skirt hardly covered anything. Keep it together Jim, jesus.

The close proximity and the smell of Jim’s cologne was raising the tension, and an idea popped into your head. If Caleb thought he had the right to hurt you, you would hurt him ten times worse.

Jim’s crystal blue, alluring eyes were locked on your in a transfixed state of mind, heart pumping with adrenaline when he settled his hand on your thigh in a way to “comfort” you.

He was radiant, smart, and overwhelmingly attractive for a man in his forties. When he touched you, goosebumps formed on your skin, breath hitching in your throat. Was this a bad idea, most likely, but temptation and profound desire had a hold of you both.

“I um- I always thought you were a nice girl Y/N, and beautiful, kind, sexy- fuck what the fuck am I saying.” He wanted to hit himself for his stammering of words, rolling off his tongue without even thinking, but you simply laughed, blushing from his clear embarassment. When he tried to pull away his hand, you moved it back further up just nearly underneath your skit.

“Jim, it doesn’t bother me. I’ve always thought you were quite sexy too, I mean fuck you’re a total dilf and I’ve always imagined what you looked like underneath those clothes. How fucked up is that? My own boyfriend- well ex’s dad.” You glanced down at the floor, eyes skimming the carpet trying to find a way to justify your feelings, that they weren’t morally wrong.

Brushing a strand of hair behind your ear, he slid his finger down the length of your warm neck, gaining your attention.

There was a momentous silence as you stared into one another eyes, an immense sense of crave and desire coursing through your veins.

Closing the distance, you smashed your lips against Jim’s, hands settled on his cheeks needing him desperately. At that moment the air in the room seemed to disappear, the oxygen slowly didsapating from Jim’s lungs. He was in disbelief that this was actually happening, he was kissing his son’s ex girlfriend who he’d been masturbating to all summer long.

Your lips were soft, smoothe, and you were surprisingly good at kissing for how young you were. Unable to resist, his tongue lapped inbetween your lips as he pulled you onto his lap, his hardened cock rutting against your dripping mound desperately needing you, forgetting Caleb was just upstairs.

He held you like a woman, his hands grasping at the chubby skin of your ass cheeks underneath your skirt, roaming and massaging the delicate skin roughly.

“Fuck Y/N… you don’t know how long I’ve waited for this moment…” Your lips roamed down to the crook of his neck, sucking and rotating your tongue, surely leaving a mark causing him to release a disgruntled groan.

Your hands fumbled with his belt, craving to be filled with his cock while your pussy throbbed in your panties, slick merely dripping from your cunt.

Shedding yourself of your shirt, Jim’s eyes widened from the sight of your well rounded, perfect tits, they were everything he had imagined them to be and more.

His hands grasped the jiggly skin, eyes nearly rolling to the back of his head in satisfaction. Hold it together Jim, what would she think if you busted just from the sight of her fucking tits, pathetic man.  

His brain seemed to turn to a puddle, any prior thoughts lost from your hypnotizing body. He had to have you right then and there.

“Well, are you going to fuck me or not, because I really…” You trailed off you sentence, running a singular finger down his lip, eyes focused on him with a lustful gaze as you grinded against his lap, needing more.

“Really, need you inside me, my pretty pussy aches for you Jim.” Within second he flipped you onto your back, shedding himself of his clothes and tearing down your skirt and panties down in a animalistic frenzy.

He had never seen such a perfect cunt in his life, so in tact, so beautiful, and dripping for him, god how his dick was felt like it was going to burst any minute. His size took you by surprise, Jim wasn’t small by any means, his cock a good eight maybe nine inches, this was going to be fun.

Your hand grazed the back of his neck, pulling him down just so your lips brushed against his ear.

“Hope your cock is better than your son’s, wouldn’t want to be dissapointed.” He took that as a challenge, one that he knew very well he was going to win.

“My son, doesn’t seem to know how to pleasure his woman and I’m going to make sure he and everyone else knows who fucked you right.” Your eyebrow quirked up in interest.

“Well go on then, fuck me like no other man could.” Jim had never been this nervous in his life to fuck a woman, but you- you he didn’t want to leave unsatisfied. 

He didn’t even need to glance down before pushing the head of his thick shaft deep inside of you, claiming you as his.

You gasped from the sudden intrusion, nail’s scraping against the muscles on Jim’s back. He smirked satisfyingly, leaning down to kiss you once more, shoving his tongue roughly into your mouth, desperately needing to explore every inch of you, craving more and more.

He pumped quickly into you, patience being non existent, the feel of your hot, indisputably tight walls clenching to his length. Your boobs bounced with each powerful thrust. His lips trailed down to the warmth of your neck, tenderly sucking lavender marks into your smoothe skin, needing people to know who you belonged to now.

“Oh Jim, more, more, please…” Oh the velvet, captivating sound of your strained moan had his horny brain whirling, eyes merely fluttering closed from the sweet descent of your exasperated tone.

Your pussy was throbbing from pleasure, being filled to the brim like no other man had fucked you before.

Your fingers intertwined in his hair, scrunching at his gray, partially wavy hair, pressing him against your body as he fucked you relentlessly. His free hand cusped at the cushiony skin of your boob, rolling the jelly like skin.

He needed to see you in another position, he need to see himself filling your cunt.

Standing up causing you to whine from the empty feeling, he picked you up with his strong arms effortlessly as if you weighed nothing before bending you over the sofa.

“Oh!” Jim slapped your ass and pulled your head back aggresively by the strands of your hair, plumetting his cock into your heated, tight walls simultaneously.

“Fuck! Fuck Jim! Ah!” He didn’t hold back, striking deep within your aching core over and over, his balls slapping against your skin with each powerful thrust. He had never seen an ass bounce back against him so poetically and perfectly, he was nearly salivating on the mouth looking down at you bent over on display for him and only him. Watching your pussy swallow his dick with each desperate rut, god you were stunning.

Hearing you man his name and take his cock so well was sending him over the edge, his dick pulsating in you before he even had the chance to think. 

As you pounded your ass back against him, your bottom lip was becoming increasingly swollen from how much your teeth had been biting at it from the immense pleasure.

“Jesus, you’re fucking amazing, fucking beautiful, taking my cock so fucking well. Tell me who you belong to.”

“You Jim. All yours, completely yours. I-I’m going to-Ah-“ He slapped your ass cheek fiercely once more, focusing on the way you moaned his name, the way your back arched as you came undone.

Your knuckes turning white from the grip they had on the cushioned surface, toes curling from your orgasm. The euphoric, alluring sensation taking over every part of your body.

That didn’t stop Jim from going to pound town. Slamming your hips down against him, rutting desperately and bottoming out deep within your dripping, aching cunt. He wad close.

“Gonna fucking cum- want me to fill you up love. Hm? Having my cum spilling out of you like a faucet for days.” You nodded desperately moaning for him to cum at the sound of his gruff voice

“Jim, Jim, please. I need your cum, need you to paint my fucking insides white, right now. Now.” At that moment you could feel his thick cock pulsate within your core, his cum shooting straight up into your cervix.

“Fuck, fuck y/n… I’m fucking cumming.” The sweat beaded at your forhead, his own dripping down from his hair onto your back.

He had never felt a high so unfathomably pleasurable, he finally felt like he had accomplished what he always wanted- needed to. You were finally his. 

Pulling out he stretched your cunt, pulling the sensitive, reddened skin apart with his large digits, seeing the art he had created with his milky white cum flowing freely out of your alluring pussy that was still twitching from your orgasm.

Caleb turned and twisted in his bed, the constant strange sounds keeping him up. Deciding to investigate, he grabbed the bat from his room before making his way downstairs only to be blindsided with his own dad intertwined with his now ex-girlfriend whom was covered with hickies on her neck

“What the fuck is this?! How did this-How could-“

“That’s how you treat a woman son. Maybe take notes because let me tell you, she’s a keeper this one.” You smirked on the couch, nuzzling your nose against his chest being fully happy with your decision to sleep with your ex’s father. He was already proving to be more of a man than Caleb ever was.

“Ready for bed love?” Jim held his hand out for you, wrapping his robe around your shoulders while Caleb stood there fuming at the actions of his own father and you, disbelief that you’d go this far, making him question if you ever really gave a shit about him or just dated him for his dad.

[bellshells]

A Promise of Grim Death

Hi! First, I’ve never written for Art before- but I loved it. 10/10 will do again.

Second, I wrote, edited and posted this on my phone. Times are hard bestie, we do what we can. So if you see any errors in there, shh no you don’t.

Third, there’s a few TW here; I’ll do my best to list them all. But surely to god if you’re reading Art The Clown anything you know there’s going to be batshit times ahead. Okay, love you bye!

TW: language, smoking (cigarettes), mentions of gratuitous violence, murder (only a little one and it’s not too bad I promise), thoughts of a sexual nature (Art remembers that fucking is a thing), suggestions of grooming, suggestions of familial death, stalking, masturbation, art??? Is he his own trigger warning?

Art had been trailing Sienna for hours. He followed her from Target to what he assumed was her new apartment, and now he sat in a parking lot downtown in a beaten up van. He had seen her go down an alleyway hidden somewhat on the corner of 86th and Maple a couple of hours ago, and whilst he waited for her to reappear, he thought of all the ways in which he could inflict the most unimaginable pain unto her.

He considered flaying, but that was too time consuming for very little pay off. He thought about some good old fashioned water torture, but he was still too impatient. Art was desperate to end Sienna. He wanted to watch the life drain from her eyes, the last thing she would see on this mortal plane was the smiling face of Art the Clown. He sighed silently, he didn’t miss talking per se, but he did miss being able to convey his annoyance. The bike horn had its charm; don’t get him wrong. But sometimes he missed being able to sigh, or grunt or scream. Screaming was also fun. After another thirty minutes of listening to Talk Radio, the only way to consume radio in his opinion, he decided to take action. Pulling his black bag full of items of his pleasure/your pain close to his chest, he exited his vehicle.

Rounding the corner to the alleyway, he surveyed his surroundings. The sun had long set and a low sitting fog had begun to settle. Art loved nights like this, he could often smell the fear of passersby before he could see them. For as they say, you never knew what could be lurking in the dark. For Art though, he could almost sustain himself off of the fear itself. Almost. He gave a trash can a big, jolly kick knocking it tumbling into two more. He genuinely found this very funny indeed, especially when the homeless man who was sound asleep between them jumped up in a daze. The man was all arms and legs, shouting incoherently. When he saw Art, a cold terror swept over his face and he tripped over himself trying to make his escape. Art was faster though, he gripped a handful of the man’s shaggy hair as he tried to run and pulled down, bringing his knee up to meet the man’s face in an expert blow. Art did this a further three times, with each connection to the man’s face, it concaved further in on itself until he was unrecognisable. Just a mass of blood and sharp pieces of bone, exposed cartilage and teeth. Lots of teeth.

A bang from further along the alley made him freeze. He dropped the homeless man immediately, and kicked him against the wall. Dodging behind a broken fire escape, Art saw a door open and a figure step out. He craned his head to see who it was, though he needn’t have. He knew it was her, opening a dumpster and throwing trash bags inside.

He eyed Sienna with a white hot fury as she closed the dumpster, his view partially obscured by the fire escape; but it was enough to see her fish a bottle of hand sanitiser out from an apron she wore around her waist. Art toyed with the idea of shooting her there and then. One swift bullet straight into her skull would leave such a pretty smattering of brain matter on the dull brickwork behind her, but no, he wanted to make this last. He wanted to hurt her. He took one step out from his hiding spot, but the sound of a gruff man’s voice behind Sienna stopped him.

“Get your ass back in here, we’re getting fucked in the ass behind this bar,” Sienna’s shoulders slumped as she turned to face the man, he too wore an apron and dried his hands on an off white towel.

“It’s almost like you want to drown in trash,” she said, the man gave her a sarcastic smile and held the door open for her. Art strained to hear what was said as the fire door slammed shut behind them, but the music emanating from within was too loud even for his sensitive ears.

He made his way over to the door and tried the handle to no avail. He pulled tightly and still the door wouldn’t budge, instead he decided to give it a swift kick. Fuck that door, he thought. Fuck it. Art wandered back onto the street, he counted back the buildings until he was sure he found the one that Sienna had emerged from. The blacked out windows of a bookshop confused Art, he was sure he heard music, and didn’t that guy mention a bar? A single flickering bulb hung limply above the entrance, it was a single framed door with a peephole that watched him as he studied the entrance. This had to be the place, but why did it look so sketchy? Art shrugged and pushed against the door, it opened slowly into a dark vestibule you couldn’t swing a cat in. His eyes adjusted to the darkness, and he noticed the walls lined with books were just a wallpapered effect. He brought a finger up and traced the seam where two panels joined. It was then that he heard applause, rapturous applause coming from below. He turned on himself, once and then once more until he could faintly make out a heavy black curtain hidden in one of the corners. Tentatively pushing it to one side, a narrow wooden staircase appeared before him. That familiar sound of music rose up from the stairs, and with one silent step, he descended them.

Art expected to find Sienna at the bottom, he deduced that she’d be behind the bar serving overpriced drinks to a newly gentrified crowd. And he did find that, but what surprised him was the unmistakable feeling of his heart pounding in his chest. Its beating was so ferocious he could hear it in his ears. It had been a long time since Art had felt his heartbeat. In fact, he wasn’t entirely sure he even had one anymore. But as he rounded the corner after the last step, he felt all too human indeed.

The bottom of the stairs opened up into a wide cavernous room with an arched ceiling decorated with twinkly lights. A bar on the far right hand side is where Sienna stood, chatting cheerfully with a customer as she wiped the bar top down. She hadn’t noticed him yet, and Art didn’t care, for his attention had been entirely captured by the woman who stood on the stage. His black bag of goodies slipped from his shoulder and landed with a clang at his feet. This usually would have drawn attention, but the sound was disguised by the most beautiful sound he had heard.

She was tall this woman, not as tall as him of course, but she stood proudly in a red dress. Art couldn’t help but notice the way the velvet seemed to wrap around her body like an embrace. Her hair, long and the colour of fire pushed over her shoulders to expose her throat. He eyed it as she sang, the way it moved with each note. She was sultry in her movements too, her hands an extension of her voice, in her hair, on her hips, around her waist, thrust out into an equally captivated audience. Art swallowed instinctively and his mouth felt dry, he brought his fingers up to his lips and he noticed they were trembling. He stood until she finished her song, a long sustained note- impressive for any singer, but this was divine treacle dripping from her lips. The audience again were generous with their applause, this woman and her band, a drummer and some men with shitty jazz instruments basked in it. Art always took pleasure in killing musicians, artists or folk of that ilk. He enjoyed watching the life seep from them, their magnum opus often nothing more than a crimson stain upon his gloves. But this woman was wholly different, she was like a monolith of a bygone era. A penetrating gaze suddenly lowered, coupled with a flirtatious smirk of a red lip. A long white glove scandalously exposing the top of a bare arm, the most innocuous piece of flesh unexpectedly the most arousing promise of more. And boy did he feel that arousal.

It was foreign to him, alien almost. A dull ache in the pit of his stomach that had almost been entirely forgotten. He had once been a creature intent on satisfying his most carnal desires, and yet, in his contemporary memory- he was laden with an empty feeling of well, nothing. There was rage, and then, nothing. The only way in which Art could liken this feeling of sudden and irrevocable desire, was the desire in which he wanted Sienna Shaw dead. Not just dead, destroyed. Mutilated and destroyed and dead. Mutilated and destroyed and dead and finished. It was something that Art recognised deeply as an obsession, yet Art was also a master of getting what he wanted. What he wanted in that moment, was to hide.

Art noticed a small table set for two hidden partially behind a supporting pillar. He had a clear line of sight to the stage, yet he would be obscured from the bar. He would get to Sienna, he would, but there were more pressing matters to attend to. Namely, the threat of an erection that pushed gently against the front of his costume. Art’s first erection in a long, long time. He shuffled nervously from foot to foot. A flash of teenage panic behind his eyes. A memory of a girl with huge tits sitting in front of him on the school bus. A memory of another life.

He settled at the table and placed his bag in his lap, folding his hands over the top neatly. Art watched her intently, the way she interacted with her band, the way she fiddled with the cable of her microphone. He watched as it slipped slowly through her fingers, his dull ache became more of a throb. Art tried to skilfully cross one leg over the other without drawing any attention with as much grace a 6”4 monochromatic porteur de mort could muster. For the first time since Art had donned his costume all of those years ago, he tried to blend in. Act natural. He tried to be so inconspicuous he could almost be a waxwork in the corner. A forgotten project, or an antique put on display. Anything to not pull any attention away from this woman on the stage.

“This will be our last number,” the woman spoke into the microphone. The audience made noises of protest, but Art’s mouth ran dry once more. Her voice was like a gong in his ears, reverberating around his head. It was dizzying. It was thrilling. She smiled then, and Art’s chest deflated. His unfamiliar heartbeat arrhythmic, his brow sweaty. Christ, he thought, her smile was downright devastatingly lovely. He bared his bloodied teeth in response, a reflex responding to his unnatural thoughts. A defense against this monstrous vulnerability.

A couple of men on the table next to Art’s stood and moved toward the stairs, momentarily obscuring his view. Art banged his fist on the table furiously, the shorter of the two men jumped in fright and turned to look at Art, the shock on his face visible even in the dim light. Art shooed the man away with a flick of his wrist, his face twisted into a disgruntled snarl. These precious seconds lost, thought Art, she’s only singing one more song. He just wanted to look at her, he wanted to stare at her. He wanted his vision to be filled with nothing but this woman and the way her body moved to this number from the Great American Songbook. He remembered one of the nuns would listen to this song after hours, she would sit in the Reverend Mother’s office on the ledge of a large window. You could just about slip your wrist through the bars affixed on the outside, that was helpful if you needed to flick away the ash of a cigarette. Which she often needed to. Art remembered thinking this nun was rather pretty, for a nun that is. He would stand hidden behind a big filing cabinet and just watch her. She would pull her knees up to her chest and the skirt of her habit with them, letting the moonlight dance across her pale legs. Once, when he was fifteen, he remembered she caught him staring at her whilst she did this, instead of screaming for the Reverend Mother, she smiled and slowly pushed her stockings down her thighs, unclipping the suspender deftly with one hand. That same hand outstretched to him in silent invitation.

Art shook his head to clear his thoughts, he didn’t want to think about her. She was entire lifetime ago, two lifetimes ago even. No, he wouldn’t think about Sister Anne. Instead he would think about this other divine creature, this new one singing his favourite song. At least, it used to be. He was grateful that his little detour of memory had indeed killed his erection. A silent little breath of relief left him, he rubbed his eyes gently so as not to disturb his makeup. At least he could return his attention to the woman, he marvelled at her. She was beautiful, that was a given; but there was something else within her that drew him to her. Art found this physiological reaction complexing, he found it infuriating, but he also found it rather comforting in a strange way. It was like a piece of him that he thought had been lost forever. He supposed in fact not. He supposed that perhaps he just had a type, and his type was this one particular woman. Where usually he would look at someone; man or woman and feel the burning rage and desire to kill them in painful and obscene ways- with her, there was just this almost morbid desire to well, fuck her.

He remembered fucking too. He remembered liking it, loving it even. He used to fuck anyone that would let him, as even psychopathic killers have a line of morality they won’t cross. Boys, girls, nuns and everything in between. Art would fuck them. And he was good at it too. Perhaps a little sadistic, but he was good at making people cum. He wondered if he’d still be able to do it. He knew he still had blood in his veins, and his newfound ability of a racing heart was a not so unpleasant a surprise, but would his cock still work? Would it feel the same? Would he be able to-?

Art was drawn from his deep contemplation by a searing pain in his hand. He cried out, well, he would have if he had a voice. His eyes shot down to see a serrated blade used for cutting steak sticking out of the back of his hand, then a flurry of dark hair appeared over his shoulder. The maddening scent of apple and vanilla washed over him, it turned his stomach.

“You’re a real piece of shit turning up at my job,” Sienna hissed in his ear. Art moved his eyes to look at her menacingly, he brought a finger from his non-stabbed hand and pressed it to his lips and pointed at the stage. Sienna’s gaze wavered for a moment, flickering over to where the woman was finishing her song. Her last song. Art was furious with Sienna for ruining it. He’d add it to the list. “I won’t kill you in front of these people,” She said, “I need to keep this job, and it’s in your best interests if you go quietly. Don’t cause a scene, Art. You’ll regret it.” Art laughed at that, his shoulders bobbing up and down. Did she really think she could tell him what to do? Demand things from him? He swiftly pulled the knife out from the back of his hand and plunged it just as quickly into the top of her thigh. It was the fleshiest part so it wouldn’t kill her, she wouldn’t even bleed all that much. But it would give her a couple of hours in the ER, a minor inconvenience at best. He would have to be satisfied with causing her a minor inconvenience, there were more important things that required his attention. Sienna gasped with pain, her hands coming either side of the protruding blade. “Fuck!” She spat, her teeth clenched together. Art’s hand now ceased in its bleeding and would be right as rain come the morning. Annoyingly, so would Sienna. But that was by the by. “If you do anything to these people,” Sienna wheezed, “I will hunt you down.” Art gave a her a wave with his fingers, a saccharine smile plastered on his face. She limped off in the direction of the bar, the guy Art had seen talking to her in the alleyway rushed to her aid. He saw them talking animatedly, and he ushered her into a room behind the bar.

Art finally, finally returned his attention to the stage just as the woman finished her song. Art felt a sense of deflation as the final sweep of applause bounced off the walls. He joined them, quickly slapping his hands together. It was then, as the woman left the stage and the musicians started packing up their instruments that the house lights were raised ever so slightly. It wasn’t much, but it was enough for the people around him to notice that there was a clown in their midst. Which on any day is odd, but on a cold late November night drew some raised eyebrows. The murmurs started then, and Art felt an unfamiliar discomfort. A heat raised on the back of his neck. He hadn’t felt embarrassment in a long time, even in his former life it had felt an age since the last time he had allowed himself to be embarrassed. Yet, as he heard the whispers and one interesting mention of Miles County he stood. He grasped his black bag and made his way silently up the stairs, acutely aware of the eyes that bore into his back with each step. Glancing over his shoulder, he longed for one last look at this woman, instead he found a poster haphazardly placed on the wall. It had her picture, her dazzling smile. Art gently pulled it from the wall and brought it to his lips, he didn’t kiss it, no, but he did run his lips over hers.

Back in his van, he produced the poster once more. It was an events poster by the looks of it, detailing all the acts playing at that bar, (which he now understood to be named The Speakeasy,) in the run up to Christmas. Art was derailed slightly by how impressed he was with the number of local acts on the bill, nodding in approval. He scoured the calendar at the bottom and found today’s date, November 20th. There he found three acts;

7:00- Sheena Morris

9:30- The Shortage System

11:15- Daphne Loveday and The Little Lovers

Art checked the time on the van clock, it was 12:45, that had to be her. Daphne Loveday. Daphne Loveday.

This woman, this holy apparition was due to perform every Thursday before Christmas. Art grumbled silently to himself. He hated the thought of not being able to see her again for a whole week. He could of course, follow her home tonight. See where she lived, observe her routine, get close to her even. But where Art’s usual vengeful fury lived, the familiar guttural need for blood was replaced with something else entirely. This feeling was not completely unknown to him, he had known desire and even love before. He loved his mother for instance, until he didn’t. He loved the Reverend Mother too, until her skull crumbled beneath his fingertips. He even had a minute softness for Vicky and well, yes, there was Vicky. But this was different. This was something else. This attraction, and he begrudgingly named it so, was an almost cosmic pull. Art had long since questioned his existence, human or otherwise, he knew better than to wonder why the things that happened to him happened.

Art turned the key in the ignition, resolving himself to no more play or plunder tonight. He felt that to take another life tonight would be disrespectful to her, to Daphne. No, tonight would be sacred to him. Whatever that meant. Sienna would have to wait. He pulled out from the parking lot and stopped just shy of the entrance to The Speakeasy, and saw Daphne’s band mates lugging their heavy equipment out of the front doors. They were wrapped up tightly in coats and scarves, the five men passed a lighter around them as they lit celebratory cigarettes. They chatted loudly, Art could hear their laughter as it carried down the street and through the slightly cracked open window of his van. He knew he was waiting for one last glimpse of her. One last glimpse and then he could go home. One last glimpse and he could go home and imagine the things he wanted to do to her. He refused to acknowledge the fact he didn’t want to kill her. He wanted to hurt her, but from the inside. He wanted to see the look on her face when that pain turned into blissful pleasure.

Focus.

Art watched intently as one of the men held the door open. Daphne emerged draped in a long green woollen coat, it hugged her waist and flowed just shy of the sidewalk, now glistening with the promise of a frosty morning. She pulled a large black suitcase behind her, getting caught on the frame of the front door. Before he could realise, Art was slamming the van door and in six quick strides he had grasped the handle of the suitcase and hoisted it over the threshold with ease. He collapsed the extendable piece and lifted it by its handle, waiting for further instruction. The musicians stood dumbfounded, he hadn’t realised that perhaps his silent approach and apparent theft of this woman’s suitcase would cause such an uneasy din to settle. The men eyed each other warily, each of them flashing a concerned look in Daphne’s direction. She, on the other hand looked surprised if largely unphased. This pleased Art. Pride swelled in his chest.

“Oh! Thank you,” Daphne said, her eyes alight with an almost humour. They were green, Art saw. She had the most beautiful green eyes. Art made a gesture for her to proceed and he would follow. Without looking at her band, she nodded and headed back towards the direction of the parking lot. Art followed dutifully behind her, refusing to glance back at the men behind him. He followed her to a silver minivan parked incredibly next to where Art had parked his own van. He could have just waited he thought, without outing himself so quickly. The rest of the band came around the corner as Daphne rooted her through pockets, producing a key. She unlocked the minivan and Art brought the suitcase to the trunk, opening it up and placing it gently inside. Daphne appeared next to him then and he caught a whiff of her. Incense and lily, and an almost metallic smell that he couldn’t work out. She smiled at Art again, as she rearranged some things already in her trunk, an old duffle bag, a pair of sneakers and a large black umbrella that almost took out Art’s good eye when she manoeuvred it. “Oops, sorry,” she giggled. Art thought he simply might pass away at the sound of her small laughter, once more he could hear his uneven heartbeat. It was thunderous. His stomach aflutter with the proximity of her body to his, twice she had accidentally brushed against his arm. Twice he felt the skin beneath his costume feel ablaze. “Thank you,” she said finally to Art. The other musicians had appeared and were adding their own cases into the mini van. Three of them had pushed the larger pieces into the body of the van, covering the back seats usually reserved for small children with black cased instruments. There was certainly no room for anyone else to sit, he wondered whether she would be going home alone.

“Oh fuck me,” said one of the men, he stood a ways off, tapping furiously on his phone. “The road’s closed between 75th and Main, there’s been an accident. Big pile up apparently,” he read from his phone, taking a drag from his cigarette. “Six cars, all dead.”

Yummy, Art thought.

“We’ll have to drive through Fair Creek to drop the stuff off,” said another, pinching the bridge of his nose. Daphne looked between them, Art stood back against the wall, hoping to disappear into the brickwork.

“That’s fine,” she levelled, “I have to swing by the ER anyway, see how madam clumsy is doing,”

Art shot a look at Daphne, she couldn’t possibly be talking about Sienna, could she? Fuck.

“I can take the van then,” said the first man, his hand outstretched for her keys. She dropped them into his palm and walked around the back of the minvan, she turned then.

“Hey, thanks for carrying my-“ she stopped short, looking for the clown. But Art had skulked back to his own van, headlights turned off and the window pulled all the way down. He could hear her perfectly, see her perfectly as she looked over her shoulder for Art. “Where did he go?”

“Who cares, that guy gave me the creeps,” said the new driver of the minivan. “Can we go? It’s fucking freezing,”

Daphne, still craning her neck to look for Art, acquiesced. He watched her climb into the backseat of a beat up Buick LaSabre with four of her bandmates. The other two in the minivan. Art tightened his grip on the steering wheel, he imagined how impossibly close she would be sitting in between two of those men. How they would be able to smell her, to feel her touch. He snarled into the darkness.

Art contemplated for a minute after he watched the cars disappear whether he should head to the hospital. He knew she’d be there, but he also knew Sienna would be there and he just did not have the energy to deal with the bullshit that would come from that. Instead, he drove toward the disused factory he called home. He had made a cozy, well for him, little safe haven in the very far corner of the roof. He figured somebody somewhere must still be paying for gas and water, because he was always able to get a hot shower. He didn’t really feel the need to eat anymore, but sometimes he would heat up a can of beans or a hot dog for old times sake. It was strangely cathartic for him.

He flipped the switch on his tiny, definitely shouldn’t still be working TV when he got home. He was met with a rerun of FRIENDS, he remembered how much Sister Anne had loved that show. How she used to sneak away during evensong to watch it in the Reverend Mother’s private apartment. She would tell Art about it the next day, and Art would recite the lines of characters he had never heard, just to make her laugh. He turned the TV off again. He made his way down to the shower block, stripping himself of his costume along the way. It really was cold outside now, he could see it in the whiteness of his breath as he exhaled under the heat of the shower. He didn’t necessarily remember what it was like to feel cold, but he liked to see the flesh pimple on his skin. He liked it when it happened on his victims too. Maybe it was an open window that did it, or his breath on their neck, but either way, it pleased him.

Art pulled at his mask, it resisted coming away from his skin and he pulled harder. Wincing as bit by bit, his flesh was revealed. It had been a long time since he had removed his mask, too. He let the water drip down his face, using his fingers to rub away months of neglect. In truth, Art had forgotten what he looked like. The mirrors in the shower block had long been smashed, and he had no desire to go outside without his mask, so he felt the contours of his face. His nose, nowhere near as pronounced, and cheekbones not as sallow. He recognised he was thin, as he moved his hands over his torso, he could feel his ribs under his calloused hands. Then, has he cupped his hands over his genitals to wash them, he remembered a flash of green eyes. Bright and dazzling in the night. The erection that he had fought so hard in the bar, reappeared and Art looked on impressed. Another thing he had forgotten about, the look of his cock as it jutted proudly, curving upwards slightly to better fill a pussy. Or an ass, he wasn’t fussy.

Experimentally, he stroked his length once. His head rolled back with a remembered pleasure. It all came back to him with that single stroke, how fucking good it felt. How fucking good it felt to be buried to the hilt in some sweet thing. How fucking good it felt to have someone’s lips wrapped around his end, gagging on his length. Art stroked himself again, this time letting his eyes flutter shut, this way he could imagine Daphne’s hand in place of his own. Imagine the kisses peppered down his back, and her other hand cupping and gently squeezing his balls. If he could moan, he would’ve and loudly. As soon as Art quickened his ministrations, he knew it would be over all too soon, so he stopped. He shut off the water and wrapped himself in a too small towel, trudging his way back to his room. There, he fished out the poster he had taken from the bar, a soft smile plagued his lips as he refreshed his memory of Daphne’s face. Climbing up onto his bed, or rather an old army cot he had found, he lay back, one hand on his cock- the other holding her picture up to the light. He gripped himself harder this time, like he used to like it. Art bared his teeth as he rubbed his finger over his tip, a surprising amount of liquid had emerged and he used it as a lubricant. Quickly, he moved onto his knees, he placed the poster of Daphne on the bed in front of him, and began fucking his hand. His hips moved quickly into his waiting fist, her eyes never leaving his as with a would be grunt, he ejaculated over his hand, spilling his cum over the poster. It dripped onto her face in big lumps. Years of his cock not being used, he deduced. He panted, exhausted. It was one thing swinging an axe around and another making yourself cum. Falling back onto the bed, he pulled the poster with him. Daphne’s smiling face now littered with his seed, inexplicably, he felt the flame of arousal burn deep in his core at the sight. He gently smeared it over her face, paying particular attention to her mouth, as if by some miracle he could shove it inside there. He longed to have her taste him, just as with that thought he longed to taste her. To have her wetness fill his mouth, cover his face and drip down his chin. He gently tapped his teeth, they were rotten, he knew that. But he wasn’t sure what Daphne would make of them, and in that moment he felt a pang of self consciousness. Resigning himself to sleep, he pulled his threadbare cover over his bare shoulders. He felt a contentedness he hadn’t felt since before he was, well, what he was. It felt different going to sleep that evening not full of rage, but with a lazy arousal that more than likely meant when he awoke, he could treat himself once more.

As he closed his eyes, he told himself that his plans for Sienna would have to wait. The rest of Art’s week would be spent in conserving energy for this next Thursday. He had a concert to catch.

[all-alone-he-turns-to-stone]

Sway Me Now

Billy Butcher Masterlist

Summary: For one mission, they have to work together. But after last time, can Butcher really trust her? As tension grows, they inevitably end up on the dance floor and have to dance to keep their cover. And right there, all the anger turns into something else. Can they really finish up the mission now? Pairing: Billy Butcher x F!Reader Rating: 18+ Warning: implied smut but nothing explicit, The Boys level of violence, ennemy to lovers, tension, sexual tension, anger, dancing, fighting Word Count: 3946 ​​ A/n: This fic was requested by @mightyhemsworthy​! So sorry it took so long!

Don’t forget to leave a feedback!

It wasn't his idea. Truth was, he was completely and irrevocably against it. But Hughie had the annoying capacity to convince everyone, including him. As soon as he used his secret weapon, his puppy eyes, everyone flinched.

"It's a shitty idea," he repeated for the hundredth time. Running his hand slowly through his beard, Butcher looked in the mirror to observe himself from all angles. He hadn't worn anything this fancy in so long.

The costume was very beautiful, there was no doubt about it. The black fabric was soft to the touch, a little reflective, showing its expensive price. The white button up shirt was a little tight so Butcher didn't hesitate to untie his bow tie to loosen a button.

"Who would have thought you could rock a suit."

Butcher closed his eyes and let out a long, telling sigh. That voice, he could never forget it.

"Who the fuck let you in, luv?"

His eyes still closed, Butcher turned to face the woman who haunted his nights… Both in a good and in a bad way.

"The little guy with the blue eyes. He's the one that called me and begged me to come here for your shitty plan."

Butcher's lips twitched in an uncomfortable spasm. Why did it have to be her, out of all the possible choices?

"Not. My. Plan," Butcher finally opened his eyes to place them on the woman in front of him. And for once, he was glad he could keep an unfazed face in any situation, because the view in front of him...

Y/n was leaning against the door frame. Her silhouette illuminated by the light behind her made her look like an angel… but he knew the demon hidden behind her beauty. She wore a red dress so tight, the fabric looked and probably felt like a second skin. The length came below her knees, but there was a slit on the side that went up to her hip, exposing her leg. Butcher couldn't help but stare at that bare part, exposed flesh that made him salivate. After long seconds of impossible scenarios passing through his mind, he managed to raise his eyes. The top of the dress was low cut just enough to show off her assets but also hid some to leave room for the imagination.

To finish up her look, her hair was curled and tied in a bun, small strands falling on either side of her face.

So lost in the contemplation of the woman in front of him, Butcher didn't immediately notice that she was doing the same to him. Her eyes roamed up and down her body, burning and interested in the sight.

He wasn't used to being looked at like that. Not in a long time, at least. Feeling himself losing control over her expressions, Butcher cleared her throat to bring the focus back to what was important and what she was there for. The mission.

Y/n was biting her lip in interest when he spoke.

"Did Hughie tell you his plan?"

-

“Alright. So the target’s name is Edmundo Rodriguez. I texted you a picture.”

Sitting at the bar, Butcher was sipping a nice glass of strong whiskey when M.M's voice rang loudly in his ear. By reflex, he tried to remove the piece from his ear, but a hand was faster and stopped him.

“We got the picture,” the person next to him muttered discreetly against her wrist, her silver bracelet hiding the microphone allowing her to communicate with the base of operations. The truck was parked further on the road outside the manor, M.M and Hughie ready to guide them if necessary. Y/n slid the phone on the counter by his drink so Butcher glanced at it quickly.

“That motherfucker looks like all the other motherfucking in here, how the hell are ye gunna find him, eh?” 

“I don’t care how you do!” M.M's voice once again sounded loudly in his ear. Butcher grimaced. He definitely hated this plan. Hated the mission. “Just do it. Target should be in the VIP section.”

“Sure thing, we just need to get in there now, do we?”

Turning his head to the left and then the right, Butcher mentally noted everything around him again. The room was full of people, cocktails in hand, dancing, talking and laughing out loud. A real bunch of money cows, good at milking the poor to fill their pockets. And they called that event a charity gala? It stank of scam.

The phone disappeared from the counter as Y/n grabbed it. Butcher followed the gesture and watched her put it back in her bag. Again, his breath got caught in his throat at the beauty of the woman next to him, and his frustration grew.

“Are you gonna stop being a baby for one night?” She sighed, turning to him completely. After crossing one leg above the other, she leaned against her hand, her elbow against the counter. She narrowed her eyes at him, clearly judging him with her gaze.

“Only when you’ll stop being a greedy bitch,” Butcher replied, mimicking her posture to face her as well. He grabbed his glass and put it to his lips, but decided not to drink from it at the last second. “Why are you even here eh? We don't need ya, like we didn't need ya last time either.”

"Oh, if that's how you say thank you, then fuck you!" Straightening slightly, Y/n swiveled towards the bar to order a drink, but Butcher interrupted her.

“I won’t say thank you, hun, not after what you did last time.”

“You’re still mad about that!” 

This time, the two were face to face, standing on their feet, their faces so close they could feel each other’s body heat.

“I’ll always be mad that you betrayed us and joined the fucking enemy.”

The only reason she could answer him at the same height was the 4 inch heels that adorned her feet. “You know why I did that!” Noticing she was raising her voice, Y/n looked around. Her gaze wandered behind Butcher for a moment, then she grabbed his arm to pull him even closer to her. “Now's not the fucking time. I'm there, like it or not,” she whispered, her face so close he could admire every detail of her beautiful eyes. “The guards are looking at us, we're making a scene and getting too much attention so you’re gonna shut up and follow my lead.”

Butcher had no time to protest or answer, he was being dragged on the dance floor. Once they were in the middle, Y/n looked to the left where the guards were and Butcher followed her gaze discreetly. Indeed, three men were staring intently at them. Cursing himself for accepting the mission, and more importantly, agreeing to go with her, Butcher didn’t notice the song had changed. He understood only when he felt his hands switch places to end up against a fabric that was soft to the touch. Turning his head in front of him, his eyes widened as he noticed he was now holding her waist.

“Follow my lead,” Y/n hissed through her teeth. Already, her hips were moving side to side and she was raising her arms to wrap them around Butcher's neck. Caressing the back of his head, she moved closer to him enough to press her chest against his torso. Still in shock of having her so close, Butcher didn't move. A strong pain in the foot brought him back to him with a choked moan of pain. "Sway me now!"

She was crushing his foot with her heel? Perfect! He was awake now.

Suavemente, bésame

Que quiero sentir tus labios

Besándome otra vez

Prior to The Boys, Butcher had been to many events that required dancing. To not embarrass and shame Becca, he had learned and practiced relentlessly. It had been a while now since his last dance, his body responding to the movements by remaining rather stiff, but it was enough. And the confused but satisfied expression of the woman in his arms confirmed he wasn’t too bad at it.

Cuando tú me besas

Me siento en el aire

Por eso cuando te veo

Comienzo a besarte

One foot in front of him, Y/n moved hers back and they repeated the movement a couple of times to the beat of the song, swaying their hips. Then, Butcher grabbed Y/n's hand, kissed it quickly before spinning her on herself several times. After a few turns, he grabbed her against him and helped her down to the ground by holding her hands. Y/n slid, one leg in front and the other behind as she did the splits. Applause sounded around them, but neither paid attention to their spectators. Once on the ground, Y/n stuck her legs together and Butcher spun her around to build momentum and lift her up. With a strong, precise movement, she seemed to fly through the air for a moment, her legs splitting again but in the air this time.

Y si te despegas

Yo me despierto

De ese rico sueño

Que me dan tus besos

Suavemente

Grabbing her by the waist, Butcher gently helped her land on her feet. Then, they pulled back, Y/n moving her hips and caressing her body as she kept her gaze on her partner. Pointing at him, she motioned for him to come closer, which Butcher did, a smile on the corner of his lips. Swaying, he advanced towards the young woman so that she ended up in his arms again. His hands rested on her waist again, but the heat had already risen too much, and his fingers wandered lower on her body, inviting her to sway her hips even more.

It was hot. Their bodies touched more often than they stayed apart. The two were sweating as the song struggled to finish. The 4 minutes of the song felt like an eternity, but soon, that eternity was over. The song ended as Butcher rocked Y/n backward against his arm. Her hair, surprisingly still in her bun even after the dance, tickled his arm. Her back was arched perfectly and he was holding one of her legs with his other hand.

The sound of their rapid breathing filled the room full of people watching them, but it felt like there were only two left in the world. Nothing existed anymore, nothing could reach them in the bubble they were in. The tension was palpable, the dancing had warmed them both up in a way they hadn't expected. Of course, Butcher knew how incredibly beautiful Y/n was. And sexy. Fuck, she was so hot. But that moment they had lived... It felt more than that.

Butcher stared at Y/n's lips with one longing...

His face moved closer and closer to hers, and she didn't do anything to stop him. He could feel her breath on his lips, feel the fruity scent of her lip gloss tickle his nose, they were so close… when a round of applause startled him.

Butcher was getting his dance partner back on her feet when a voice rang in his ear.

“Nice way to get attention, well done.” He had no idea how they saw the dance back in the truck, but they knew and it made Butcher lose focus once more.

Y/n was faster than him and leaned over to salute and thank the crowd. Butcher did the same, and then the band resumed the songs and people started talking as if nothing had happened.

Time seemed to slow down as the dance looped through his head. People talked to him, but he didn’t listen to any of them. He could almost taste them, her lips, feel their warmth on his… And he wanted to. So bad. God, he was screwed. He only hoped she didn’t notice how strong her hold was on him and how bad he wanted her. That would be fucking embarrassing.

"Y/n-" Butcher turned his head towards her, but she wasn't near him anymore. He blinked a few times and looked around, panic slowly rising in him. She was there and then, gone. Raising his watch to his mouth, Butcher let his fear pour out.

“M.M! I lost Y/n!”

“Relax,” the voice answered. “You spaced out for a while Butcher. She’s doing her job. Look towards the bar.”

A long sigh of relief escaped Butcher's lungs when he found the red dress among the people sitting at the bar. He was walking towards her when he finally noticed that she was not alone. Sitting next to her, a man was talking to her. Although he was far away and the man had his back turned to him, Butcher could still notice the smirk stamped on his face as he looked at her, his big stubby hand going up on Y/n's thigh. His dirty fingers slid through the slit of the dress to caress her leg… And that was his limit.

Butcher saw red. Not waiting a moment, he rushed to the bar, pushing the other guests around without worrying about attracting attention. He was almost there when a waiter stepped directly into his path.

“Un entrée vous ferait-il plaisir, monsieur?”

Butcher recognized his voice before realizing that the server was speaking French. “Frenchie, get out my way now.”

“Saw your little dance there, impressionnant,” Frenchie, disguised as a waiter, nodded. Of course, they had to send him inside in case something turned bad. That was how M.M knew about the dance, Frenchie had a great time describing what he was seeing. “But now’s not the time to screw your cover. Take a little pain crouté and let her work.”

“I don’t care about your food!” Drowning in his anger, Butcher's hand went off on its own and the plate filled with probably very expensive appetizers flew through the air to end on the floor in a deafening din. Of course, this caught everyone's attention, including the guards, the man at the bar, and Y/n. “Leave me alone Frenchie,” Butcher hissed through his teeth. Frenchie lowered his head, muttered something in French and left. Butcher was about to continue on his way to the bar when a hand landed on his chest to stop him.

“What the fuck is wrong with you!” Y/n whispered and glanced behind her where she had left the man. She quickly waved at him to let him know it would take her a moment and then turned to Butcher. “Why are you making a fucking scene!”

“Why are you flirting with the first guy you see, eh?!” Butcher clenched his fists, casting a hateful gaze toward the bar and the man.

"Are you fuckin-" Not finishing her sentence, Y/n grabbed Butcher by the wrist and led him out of the room. Once they were in an empty hallway, she stopped and turned to him. Certain she would only try to find more excuses for her actions, Butcher was surprised to see that look on her face.

Her beautiful eyes were sad, filled with overflowing tears. Her eyebrows were furrowed, clearly disappointed in his behavior. She let go of his wrist and Butcher felt the chill creep up his spine as she pulled the phone out of her bag to show him the photo.

“Why are you showing me the target again!” He exclaimed, raising his voice louder than he liked.

“Because I was with him at the bar! Are you blind?!”

“I knew it, you’re gunna go with the enemy again!” Clapping his hands over his head, Butcher was about to leave the mansion, fuck the mission, when a hand forced him to stay put.

“How can you think I would- I was seducing him to get the fucking key! Yanno, for the safe that contains the fucking documents we need to destroy Vought!”

Butcher lowered his hands. It was like his body weighed a ton and gravity was pulling him down. He hadn't thought of that. However, that didn't calm the anger he had been feeling ever since he saw her again.

“How do you want me not to think that after last time!” No matter how hard he tried to calm down, the anger and that negative feeling ate up inside him like an ever-growing black cloud.

Pain passed over Y/n's face. Her eyes filled with water again. No tears rolled down her cheeks though. 

“I had no choice…”

Her voice had become so quiet, he had difficulty understanding her. "What?"

“Last time. Monaco. I had no choice. They had my dad, and if I didn’t give them the documents…” Lowering her head, a lock of her bun finally fell over her eyes. “I didn’t want to… But I had to save my dad.” When she lifted her head, a single tear spilled out of her eye and started rolling down her cheek, but she wiped it away before it could sink too low.

“Why did you never tell me?” Butcher's voice was softer now. Although the betrayal was still fresh, he could understand. He would have done the same for Becca. He would betray his own team for the one he loved, no hesitation.

“Cause I failed that too,” she shrugged and smiled sadly. Her mouth opened to add something but her gaze shifted to the side and her eyes widened. "Oh shit."

“So that’s where you were, Cariño…” Butcher closed his eyes, a silent “fuck” mimed on his lips. Turning slowly, he got face to face with the man from the bar, the target, Edmundo Rodriguez. And he wasn’t alone. Three guards accompanied him, all armed with weapons. Edmundo shook his head and sighed. “What a shame it has to end before I can own you.” Butcher could feel a shiver of disgust and hatred wash over him at those words. “Oh, you wanted this, perhaps?” Raising a hand, Edmundo passed it through his sweater to pull out a chain and at the end of the chain, a key. The one they needed. “You thought me stupid. Tried to rob me. But who’s dumb now eh? Corpses don’t do well in stealing. Kill them.”

“Oh fuckin finally some action I’m good at.” Butcher smiled darkly. As the guards closed in on them, Butcher pulled off his far too expensive jacket and grabbed the gun hidden behind his back to point it at the nearest guard. However, he was already in front of him and with a quick swing, disarmed Butcher. His weapon fell to the ground and slid away much to the dismay of the man who took a punch in the face. His whole body twisted from the force of the hit and his mouth filled with blood. "Oh. You shouldn’t have done that.” Turning his head towards the guard, Butcher offered a bloody smile that made him take a few steps back. The guard had fear shining in his eyes… Even if he was the one with the gun. "Oh, don't be scared," Butcher was still smiling. 

It happened so quickly, the guard didn't stand a chance. Butcher grabbed him by the sweater with one hand, the other grabbed the wrist that held the gun, and in a strong and precise movement, headbutted him right in the nose. 

A crack was heard, followed by a scream.

Clearly stunned by the hit, the guard staggered and he put a hand to his face. Butcher took the opportunity to hit his knee with his feet, a strong and precise kick that bent his leg at an angle that shouldn't be possible. More cracks and yells of pain were heard. The guard fell to the floor screaming, his gun falling from his hand, and Butcher didn't hesitate to press his foot against his throat and pressed. Purple slowly crept into the guard’s face as he squirmed under the boot, trying to get free and get oxygen. But Butcher didn’t let go.

A gunshot sounded so close to his ear that Butcher had the instinct to duck, but the bullet missed its target. Looking behind him, he could see that the fight wasn’t over. One of the guards was pointing his gun at him, and if he missed the first shot, he wouldn’t make the same mistake again. Butcher was ready to drop to the ground, praying the bullets would miss him, but it wasn't necessary. Because one moment the guard was standing with a gun pointed at Butcher, and the next he was falling on the floor with a knife stuck in his throat. A few feet away from him stood Y/n, the covered side of her leg raised to show a belt filled with small knives strapped to her thigh.

"That's hot," Butcher couldn't help but say as Y/n picked up another knife and threw it at the last guard. Since the guard was busy dealing with knives being thrown at him, Butcher could pick up the gun the guard dropped, but it was unnecessary. Because one second later, Y/n skilfully jumped on the guard to stab him in the throat until he fell to the ground, motionless and choking in his own blood.

“Where’s Edmundo?” She asked, straightening her dress as if nothing had happened. She was barely disheveled, no cuts or wounds and above all, no drop of blood was on her person.

“I don’t care.”

Leaving the gun on the floor since he didn’t need it anymore, Butcher took the few steps that separated him from Y/n to immediately place his hands on her waist and pressed his lips to hers. It took her breath away, both with the force and the surprise of the intense kiss. She didn’t wait a second to respond, wrapping her arms around his neck, pulling him impossibly closer. A low moan echoed in his ears as he slammed her against the wall, their lips parting just long enough for her to jump up and wrap her legs around his hips. "You're so fuckin hot," Butcher sighed and without waiting, brought his lips to hers again. One of his hands was used to support her while the other did not hesitate to slide under the slit of the dress to caress and grip her thigh.

The kiss was wild and filled with a longing and frustration that the two constantly felt. So needless to say, it only took a few moments for Butcher to undo his pants just enough to have access to what he needed.

-

Meanwhile, a French waiter who didn’t really have his place in this kind of event had intercepted a panicked person who was running towards the guardhouse. With a quick kick and a precise punch, he knocked him down, dragged him to a quiet place, bound and gagged him and finally, stole his key. Proud of himself for getting the key, he started searching for the two people under cover to tell them the good news. The mission was over, they had to leave before someone realized what happened.

After a while of searching, Frenchie finally found them…

Right in the middle of the hallway, caught up in an activity he wished he had never seen.

“Ah! Non, non non non! Not today! I’ll wait in the car!” Frenchie started to walk away, both hands raised in despair. But as the moans reached his ears, he cringed and shouted without turning back: “No, better than that, when you are done, just call a taxi! Au revoir!”

Forever taglist: @nitnat6245 @eevvvaa @wickedinspirations @fictional-affairs @awkward-and-indecisive @peachyaliien @katbratsupernaturalwhore

[fitgirlfemdom]

This fictional story is a continuation of this story which is a continuation of THIS story.

This fictional story is 18+ and contains: public humiliation?, femdom, weight teasing, overstim, mommy kink, gentle dom, and a happy ending <3

"Logan, we got your favorite."

He glanced up from the couch, surrounded by his nest of empty red Solo cups, soda bottles, empty bags of chips, and empty plates. He had his laptop in front of him, with the newest MMORPG he'd been grinding on for two weeks now. Logan heaved himself up, pulling his glasses from his face and running his fingers through his fluffy locks of hair. He felt half-asleep.

"We also brought your favorite," Cole said from the kitchen.

Logan walked in, wiping at his eyes with the palms of his chubby hands. "What's that supposed to--?"

In walked Anna and Cassie, chatting about something or other. A few other girls and guys emerged, all of them being Cole's friends from work or school. The second Cassie's eyes landed on him, he felt a deep shiver run down his spine. Immediately, he felt his face grow hot. The last time he saw her was when he... accidentally came inside her. She was on the pill, but nonetheless, she was rightfully pissed.

On the kitchen table were bags of food from a local burger place. He watched as Cole pulled out his chicken sandwich with a small helping of fries. He watched as Anna brought out her little dainty salad with chicken strips. He stared dejectedly at the large bag in front of his chair.

Some of Cole's friends said hello, and some just gave him passing glances. He felt underdressed in his tank top and sweatpants.

"Cassie, you remember Logan, right? You guys met?" Cole asked, cluelessly. Logan could feel the girl's eyes on his skin. He couldn't take his eyes off the bag. The last thing he wanted to do was pull out all the food he was planning on eating. It was like some sort of humiliation ritual.

"Oh, I remember," Cassie said low. "I actually was planning on talking to you, Logan--if you had a second."

"Uh..." This couldn't be good. Was it a crime to finish inside someone if they said not to? Was she gonna press charges? Was she gonna kill him? Did he actually fuck up that bad? He couldn't help but stammer, "U-Um, yeah... Sure..."

She beckoned him down the hallway as both Anna and Cole exchanged confused glances.

His heart dropped when they went towards the bathroom, and it sunk further when she closed the door behind them.

"You're gonna make it up to me," was the first thing out of her mouth.

"In, um... In what way?" Logan stuttered, watching as she pulled out a small cylindrical device from her purse. "Is that...?"

"A bullet vibrator."

He held his hands up. "You are not putting that up my ass."

She rolled her eyes. "You're so fucking stupid." She pulled out a few hair ties as well. "I'm gonna strap this to your dick. I can control it from my phone." Without warning, she yanked down his sweatpants, revealing his free cock. He must've forgotten to put on boxers. She smirked. "The vibe might be too big, come to think of it..."

"M-My dick's not that small." He made for it to sound firm and defiant. It did not.

She knelt down and fastened the small, purple device to his cock, jacking it a few times to get it semi-hard. The hair ties were tight and pretty uncomfortable. Seeing her on her knees immediately did the trick--If she'd glanced up at him, he might've leaked.

She stepped back, admiring her work, as she yanked up his sweatpants. His face was bright red. "We're gonna have a nice dinner now," Cassie cooed, her voice domineering and low. "And you're gonna try your best not to embarrass yourself."

"But--"

"I was planning on inviting you three out to dinner," she said, turning to open the bathroom door. "Y'know, so I could see your face when you cum down your leg in an Applebee's, or something."

"Oh, but--"

She cut him off, saying over her shoulder as they walked down the hallway, "You should thank me, though, for being so kind."

He muttered out a stagnant, "...Thank you," as they reemerged in the kitchen, with Cassie as neutral as ever and Logan so red, the other two must've noticed.

What'd happened to him? He would never let a girl ever disrespect him like this before. He used to slap girls in bed, making them call him Daddy as he spat in their mouths. He wasn't a sadist by any means, but he thought that's what guys did. He actually could remember when he made the switch.

It was the summer after high school, when he was still deciding if he was going to go to college, despite losing the scholarship. He met this cute girl at a coffee spot, and they really hit it off. It wasn't until that night, when he really thought he bagged another bitch, that she saw his dick, and audibly laughed. She told him to put it away and drive her home, laughing the whole way.

He realized he was a muscular, handsome, over 6-foot, charismatic guy who looked like he should be on the cover of a magazine, but it felt like it didn't matter. Once he finally let himself go completely, he just kept telling himself that even if he lost all the weight, took care of himself, and got himself back on his feet, self-respecting girls would just laugh at him, and he couldn't take that. Internet girls wouldn't. Internet girls didn't care if he lived or died.

He pulled out the two double-cheeseburgers and large serving of fries from his bag, as well as the chicken tenders and vanilla milkshake. Suddenly, he felt sick, and uncomfortable, and unconfident. As he went to take the first bite of his burger, that feeling changed.

Suddenly, he felt very, very turned-on, and it must've been from the vibe on his crotch.

As Cole talked about his stocks and investments to the others at the table, Logan couldn't help but choke back a moan. The vibe was right up against the most sensitive part of his body, right up against his cockhead, and with the base of it snug against his balls. It was distracting. He glanced over to Cassie, who was smiling at her phone. He watched her drag her thumb upward, and at that moment, the vibrator intensified.

"Fuck," Logan breathed out, taking another bite. He had to pretend it wasn't that, that it wasn't happening. If he just didn't focus on it, it'd be gone, and no one would think he was a total pervert. It'd be one thing if it was just Cole and Anna, but with all these unfamiliar faces, he felt like he couldn't breathe. He almost wished Cassie just pressed charges, or pushed him off a cliff. "Ah, fuck..."

"Something wrong, Lo?" Cole asked, plucking a fry. "Oh yeah, guys--This is Logan. He's a friend from high school. He's our roommate."

He thought he'd slipped by the awkward introductions, but there he was, smiling at the other people at the table, pretending his cock wasn't twitching against his sweatpants.

"I'm fine, just..." He shook his head, trying to laugh it off. "Just got this throbbing headache."

"Throbbing, huh?" Cassie asked, still staring at her phone. She was really messing with the settings, setting the vibrations to a dull murmur before hiking them up to the highest possible option. "You're probably just hungry."

Nobody noticed, but she definitely meant it as some sort of diss. He was the heaviest one at the table, by far, and he had the biggest order. He couldn't lie, though. Being horny did make him hungry, and he couldn't understand why.

As the conversation drifted to someone else, Logan went back to eating his burger. It was pretty good. He was a frequent customer at this place, much to his waistline's dismay. He really hoped everyone else hadn't noticed how much he was moaning while eating. At one point, when he was finishing his tenders, his eyes rolled up into the back of his head. He really hoped no one noticed that.

His cock twitched. He was uncertain if he was going to make it through this meal without shooting ropes down his chubby thighs. He must've been making a scene--A few of the girls he didn't know at the table were snickering amongst themselves.

"Are you okay, Logan?" one of them--a particularly pretty, blonde one--asked. She was smirking behind her hand. They must've known something incredibly humiliating was happening. Maybe they could hear the vibrator. Maybe it was because he was sweating like a horny pig. Maybe it was because his nipples were so prominent against his stained tank top. Maybe, maybe, maybe--He was losing his mind.

He knew Cassie would be pissed, but he didn't care. He rose to his feet and left, unannounced, to the bathroom. He had to get this stupid vibrator off, before--

He made it halfway down the hallway before he fell to his knees. He bit on his wrist to stifle a moan as he came, with the streams of cum seemingly never-ending. It must've been twenty seconds before it was over, as the vibe continued to torture him. The front of his sweatpants, and bottom of his gut, were stained and sopping wet. When he opened his eyes, he saw Cassie staring down at him.

"You lasted a lot longer than I thought you would," she said flatly. He slowly rose to his feet, using the wall as support. He felt so sensitive, so vulnerable, and the vibe just kept stimulating him, on and on. He was still leaking.

"Cassie, I... I'm sorry. I'm sorry I did that the other day," he breathed out. He couldn't look her in the eye. "I... You were just so pretty, and I..."

"You just had to blatantly overstep my boundaries?"

"No, that's not--" He watched as she raised the intensity on her phone. "Fuckin' hell--Turn it off."

"I don't like your attitude." She pushed him down the hallway, and with the vibrator so strong against his cock, he couldn't put up much of a fight.

They were back in the bathroom again.

He fell to his knees on the tiled floor as she locked the door. Every muscle in his body was contracting. His head was pounding. He started gripping at his waistband. "That's it--I... I can't--"

"You disobeyed me." She crossed her arms over his full chest.

"I... I did," he admitted, tears stinging his eyes. "I'm sorry. It just... You said you'd punish me if I did it, and it..." Her arms lowered. "I... Fuck it, I like being punished by girls like you."

She was silent, and her expression was completely neutral. "...What?" she asked at last, lowering the intensity of the vibe.

Logan covered his face. "I like getting talked down to. I like being humiliated. I like getting slapped around by pretty girls. It turns me on. And... And I just figured, y'know, whatever you'd do to me... It couldn't make my life any worse."

She was silent. He didn't know what could possibly be going through her head until she knelt down in front of him on the floor. They were level to one-another. She pulled down his sweatpants and unstrapped the vibe, throwing it off to the side.

"You're probably right about that," she sighed, finally making eye contact. "Your life is pretty shitty." Cassie looked askance. "Maybe I should go a little easier on you." She met his eyes. "Against the sink."

"What?"

"Lean against the sink, facing the mirror."

He did as he was told, standing to see his gross self in the reflection. She was so much shorter than him, and so much more petite, but he watched as she forced him down to bend over the counter, taking his cock in her hand as she jerked him off. She leaned against his back.

"You're still so hard," she cooed, stroking him softly and slowly. He bit his lip as he stared down the drain. "I want you to cum again. Can you do that for me?"

"Y-Yes..." he breathed out. This dynamic was new to him. He'd never even treated a girl like this, much less be on the receiving end.

"Just focus on me stroking you." He couldn't help but whine. "Focus on me milking you dry. Focus on my soft hands."

"O-Okay..."

"Everyone's outside, eating dinner," she whispered sweetly, "And you're in here, being a good boy for Mommy."

There was that word again. It made his stomach flip.

"Aw, sweetie..." She wiped at his lip with her other hand. "You're drooling."

"It just... It feels good, I'm sorry," he breathed out.

"That’s okay, baby… Does it feel that good?”

“Y-Yes, it does.” He could feel his small cock twitch in her grip.

“Imagine if it was my cunt wrapped around you," she whispered. His breath hitched. "Imagine rutting your little cock into something warm."

"Ah, fuck." Her hand was so tight, and his dick was already slick from the amount of times he'd leaked already.

"Do you think you could make me cum from your cock?" she mewled, gripping the base of his jaw with her free hand. She wasn't choking him, but it made him tighten up nonetheless. "Or is it too small? Am I just gonna have to use your face?"

"I could... uh..." he groaned out. It was hard to think. He couldn't keep his eyes open for too long, mainly because he hated to see his reflection. “It’s too small, I’m sorry.”

"You are good at head... Must be all the eating you do." She was stroking him faster, holding up his gut with her other hand. He was so sensitive there. "And you're so stupid... So brainless... You'd be happy to suck my clit all day. It's not like you work or anything."

"I wanna suck on your clit," he admitted pathetically, his voice barely over a dull whimper.

"Shh... I wanna feel you cum in my hand first." She was stroking faster, and his breaths were growing more rapid. "Then you can suck off Mommy, when you're nice and empty."

“I wanna suck you off…”

“Hear how pathetic and embarrassing you sound,” she breathed out. “It’s making Mommy so wet.”

He still couldn't get over how much that word turned him on. He could look introspectively into his own personal mommy issues, but that would definitely fuck up his vibe. He'd much rather feel his cock melt in her hand as he shot ropes into the sink, moaning out so loud that Cassie had to wrap her hand around his mouth.

"Shh… Good boy... Cum for Mommy," she cooed, her engorged chest right up against his back. He could feel every inch of himself shaking as he finished leaking, his breath rapid and his heart beating out of his chest. “Mm… You made such a mess.”

“Fuck… Cole’s gonna give me so much shit for this la—“ He was cut off by Cassie kissing him from the side, taking his lips against her own. It surprised Logan, but he slowly melted into her embrace, taking the sweetness of her lip gloss. It was long, and breathy, and a bit awkward because of their height difference, but he was glad she milked him dry before. It felt so deep, he probably would’ve cum again.

“I wanna do that again sometime,” she whispered, staring up at him with big brown eyes.

"I really wanna make that happen." He was panting. He couldn’t look her in the eye. “I… I wanna make you cum. I wanna do something for you.”

“How about you come home with me tonight? Make it up to me?” she cooed. Then she turned to the door. “Come on—Our food’s getting cold.”

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[hanemiyaz]

TOKYO REVENGERS MEN WITH MOMMY KINKS

18+ only, minors/ageless blogs dni

characters: takemichi hanagaki, chifuyu matsuno, hajime kokonoi, seishu inui, tetta kisaki

synopsis: as per the last one, sub tokrev men with mommy kinks!

cw's: fem!reader, dom!reader, sub!characters, mommy kink, pussyjob, overstim, crying/dacryphilia, begging, teasing, bondage (m receiving), piv, breeding, lingerie (m wearing), amazon position, lots of pet names, pet play/puppy play, collar and leash (m wearing), handjob, pegging, cockwarming (as punishment!), punishment for bratting, maybe slight cnc in kisaki's, vibrator usage.

an: this is part two of tokrev men w/ mommy kinks that i posted on my old blog (iykyk). i hope you enjoy these little drabbles!

TAKEMICHI

Michi lets out a loud whine, his palms sweaty against your thighs as you slowly grind your pussy against his cock. He averts his gaze, not because he’s shy— he passed that point two orgasms ago— but because he simply cannot handle the electric jolts of pleasure rushing through him.

“Mommy… please.”

“Please what, baby?”

He stutters, realizing he doesn’t even know what he’s begging for as tears continuously roll down the sides of his face. 

You take your hand and gently wipe away his tears with your thumb, your quiet shushing not doing much to combat the sticky noises coming from where your two bodies meet. His cum is thick and white, and there’s almost too much of it, your fluttering cunt milking him dry with ease.

He does his best to beg again, “Mommy… need you.”

“You need me? But, Michi, I’m right here,” you smirk, running your hands along his chest and stomach. 

"Need to feel you... wanna be inside."

You shake you head as a smirk grows across your face "Not yet, baby... Mommy's having too much fun like this."

He whines again, both of you knowing that tonight will be a rather brainless night for your sweet boyfriend.

CHIFUYU

You’re on your knees over Chifuyu, his chest rising and falling quickly as he does his best to hold onto his sanity, while you only grant the tip of his cock the pleasure of being buried inside of you. He strains against the pretty pink rope you have him bound with, his ankles and wrists struggling to break the bondage to no avail. You know it's an act, that he’s actually enjoying being tied up like this, but that only serves to turn you on further.

“Ah, ah, ah… good boys use their words. Tell me what it is you want.”

“W-Wanna breed you, mommy…”

His cheeks are red, coloured so because of his arousal and his embarrassment, not used to being told to speak his deepest desires without the ability to cover his face too.

“Good boys also use their manners.”

“Please, mommy, please. I’m sorry, jus’ wanna breed you so bad”, his lips form a deep frown, fearing as if he’s ruined his chance.

You lean down to kiss his worries away as you lower yourself fully onto his cock, feeling him twitch inside you.

“There’s mommy’s good boy.”

HAJIME

If you’d ever seen a more beautiful man, you couldn’t remember him in the slightest with the sight beheld to you now, in this moment. You have your fiancé folded in half on your bed, the man donning a pair of black thigh high socks decorated with big red bows on the cuffs. Just as pretty though, are the lascivious sounds he’s making as you fuck yourself on his cock, straddling the undersides of his thighs.

“Fuck mommy… you look so pretty.”

You giggle as your skin smacks against his “Thank you, handsome boy, you look very pretty too.”

“I do?”

“You do, sweet prince.”

He moans obscenely loud, his long hair sticking to his sweat covered forehead. He’s always loved that pet name.

“You like when mommy rides you like this? When she reminds you who this cock belongs to?”

His eyes squeeze shut and he nods frantically.

“Who owns this cock, hm?”

“You do, mommy…”

You pick up the pace with your movements, your legs a little sore but you don’t care. Right now, all you want is to feel Hajime pulse and cum inside of you as you do, your spasming walls drawing out every last drop.

SEISHU

You yank a little harder at the leash wrapped around your hand, pulling what was hanging loosely, taut. 

“Slow down, pup.”

“B-But mommy, s’too good…” Despite his arguing, he slows his bouncing on your strap on. 

“I know you’re eager, baby, but good puppies listen to mommy. You wanna be a good puppy, don’t you?” Your voice is low, dripping with lust.

He nods, eyebrows knit together and a pout on his face.

You smile at him before loosening your tug on the leash and leaning in to give him a kiss, one he eagerly accepts.

“You know what else good puppies get?”

“What?”

“Good puppies get treats,” you move one of your hands to the tip of his cock, focusing all of your attention on it, rubbing it gently.

His legs start to tremble as he continues to ride your dildo, throwing his head back with a whimper which makes the tag on his collar jingle louder.

“Thank you mommy, th-thank you.”

“Are you gonna cum?” He nods again, “Mhm… gonna cum for mommy.” “Go ahead, puppy, make a mess. Just for me.”

TETTA

You look him in the eye as you come down from your orgasm, bare chest heaving as you try to catch your breath. You turn off the vibrating wand you had pressed to your clit, moving it from between the two of you.

“I’m s-sorry, mommy. Was only a joke.” His eyes well up as he sits there almost motionless, his limbs tied to the chair and you sitting in his lap—his cock buried inside of you— keeping him from doing much more than protesting verbally.

“So being a brat is funny to you? Making mommy angry is a joke?”

He shakes his head, “N-No, I’m sorry. Just really want you to fuck me now.”

“No, I think naughty boys like you need to learn lessons the hard way. So, for now, all you get to feel is me, sitting nice and still, cumming around your cock… nothing more.”

He whines and his bottom lip starts to wobble, his body betraying his typical collected demeanor, “I’m sorry mommy, I really am.”

You move your free hand upward and cup his face, caressing his cheek with your thumb, “I know…”

You turn the vibrator back on and return it to your clit, feeling yourself tighten around Tetta’s cock, causing him to let out a pathetic whimper, “but I think the lesson needs to really sink in.”

[fairytsuk1]

getting katsuki gifts for the holidays was like trying to teach a monkey to dance, it was impossible.

you'd whined, mumbling about how the two of you had enough money to buy most items you wanted; katsuki also never seemed to never ask for things specifically.

"so, katsuki... the holidays are coming up!"

he's picking at his ordered in take-out, and you can see his displeasure at the lack of peppers as he picks through his kung pao chicken.

"yeah, already got your gift," and he's giving you smirk that makes you sweat, "are you sure you got the right chicken? this shit tastes like the fuckin' kids menu."

your eyes get caught on the wedding band wrung around his fingers, sailing the veins of his forearm till you can see his bulging biceps in the black muscle shirt. was your husband hand-carved by gods? seemed likely.

"mmm, no, it should be the kung pao chicken, want me to chop some chilies up for you?"

you're standing before he can protest, taking out your knives and chopping boards, "and you already have my gift? I don't have your gift, yet."

the box of take-out is set down as your husband circles his arm around your waist to leave soft kisses on the column of your neck.

"yeah, 'cause you don't love me," and a thankful hand squeezes your ass just to show his appreciation for the chopping of chilies, "...whatcha gonna get me?"

his hands are still wandering, and you're thinking more of what his talented fingers could do than his stupid gift, "i'm not supposed to tell, you know. santa's elves might get me into a whole lotta trouble."

he gropes you even more fiercely, and you can feel his pressing need against your back.

"fuck santa,"

he carries you off in a fit of giggles to your shared bedroom.

-

the bookstore was fairly crowded and you felt thankful you could slip by unnoticed and browse the various books of romance or sci-fi; katsuki didn't even seem like a sci-fi guy so each row left you feeling panicky and like a bad wife the further and further you went.

"excuse me, do you have any classical romance?"

the timbre of the voice makes your heart stop. It sounded just like, well, katsuki! your legs are thrumming with the knee-jerk reaction to tackle him to the ground, but you were literally buying his gift! the surprise would be ruined, and you're dashing into the row of cookbooks to calm yourself.

maybe it's not even him. you know what they say, just because it sounds like katsuki doesn't mean it is! you're affirming yourself silently when footsteps grow close, and your husband is flashing by you in seconds.

it is katsuki!

"i'm fucked."

your eyes follow the object of your love, his strong hands randomly pick books out of nowhere, but there's grumbles of displeasure as he skims the summary and grimaces at the cover. he didn't know that much about books, but you deserved something special.

you'd dealt with all the hero stuff (being gone for long periods of time and coming home nearly dead was no news to you), always made him lunch or dinner, and frankly... katsuki found his eyes drifting to a sleeping baby in its stroller.

he'd started thinking more like that. so the gift had to be pretty damn good!

a man strikes up conversation, and you smile at the idea that katsuki wasn't just factually married, but he gave that aura too. yeah, that was your man.

"i'm shoppin' for my wife," straight to the point and he's already grumbling at having to interact with this person for more than a minute.

"wow! a true husband, what's with the books then? looking to open your marriage?"

it's a joke that katsuki doesn't find funny, you do however and you're sure this conversation would be going very differently.

"fuck no. i'm just lookin' for somethin' good," there's a brief pause in his words, and katsuki looks askance at having to provide a reason why, "she does a lot for me. want her to know I appreciate it."

a beating heart is soothed by the words. your hormones run wild at his mild love declaration, and you're grinning like a mad man.

katsuki wakes up on christmas morning to find his absolute favorite thing; you.

and the book he got was pretty damn good, too.

[madamechrissy]

But it's Better if you Do

ৎ୭ Pairings ৎ୭ Nanami Kento x Fem Reader

ৎ୭ Warnings ৎ୭ MDNI- This chapter- Explicit sex, breathplay, dom/sub undertones, brat taming, whipping, Nanami being a whole DADDY bc he is, anal play, multiple orgasms, dirty talk, Nanami yanks you by your collar bc why not. Just a whole freaky sex chap

ৎ୭ Word Count ৎ୭ 6.9k

ৎ୭ Summary ৎ୭ Every weekday for a year, Nanami Kento comes into the coffee shop you work at, and he orders the same damn thing. You have it bad but are too nervous to do more than doodle on his cups. You have a double life, because you're also 'Foxy' a featured dancer at a strip club once a week. A bachelor party for Satoru Gojo has you dancing, and he's there. Nanami fucking Kento. You end up both in a VIP room, awkward, nervous, but then... it's your chance. He doesn't know it's you, right? What harm can a lap dance do? Surely won't be awkward the next day...

Chapter 8-- Masterlist

Chapter 9

You and Nanami seem to always be making out when you walk into either of your apartments, you wonder what people think in the halls of you two, or the maddening  way you tear each other apart. Nanami picks you up with ease, and you’re holding onto those broad shoulders tightly, falling into the whirlwind that was his kisses, that was the desire that was building.

He gently places you down, easing you onto your knees, hands pressing on your shoulders, and you’re enamored as he is standing so tall above you, his fingers brushing through your loose hair. You lick your lips, hands going to eagerly unbuckle his belt then, his hands stop you.

“I didn’t say that you could do that yet, darling.” He murmurs, smacking at your hands when you try again. You pout.

“Isn’t submissive where you like please?” You ask, he smirks, shaking his head then, caressing your jawline.

“It’s much more intricate than that.” He gathers your hair up, pulling it, making tears prick your eyes, you’re grinding on the ground for friction for your aching pussy now, moaning. “We need some ground rules.”

“Like some safe word or some shit?” He chuckles, pulling your hair a little more, making your head arch back as you look up at him.

“That would be a good thing to have if your mouth wasn’t about to be occupied.” He whispers, thumb running across your lips. “Remember when I choked you, and I said to tap my arm three times?” You nod eagerly. “When your arms aren’t tied up, do that. When your mouth is free, you come up with a word you like.”

“Well, can’t be Daddy, you like that now. Ah!” He pulls further, and you’re arching into the hold, pressing further on your knees, fingers itching to touch him.

“Foxy.” He says with a smirk, you giggle.

“Okay, that’s the word. Or the taps. What if you have me tied up and your cock shoved in my mouth? Do I bite it? Oh!” He snatches you up, and before you know it you’re on all fours on his bed. He eases up your skirt, sliding down your panties, already soaked.

“So wet, so easy for me, I haven’t even touched you.” He whispers, you just cry out, arching your back. “How do you feel about a flogger?”

“A what?” You peek back over your shoulder at him, and he’s just smirking, cupping each ass cheek in his big hands, squeezing. “I don’t know your terms, freaky Dom Kento.”

“You’re adding more and more lashings. Tsk tsk.” Nanami eases across the room, and you lean up on your hands, biting your lip as you watch him slide open a drawer. You peek.

“Oh shit. You’re really freaky.” You crawl over, peering into the drawer, full of all kinds of rope, whips, toys, gags… you flush when you see some of them, but he bends over, caressing your face.

“It’s all up to you what we do. And what we don’t. I would never, ever push you into anything.” You choke up at that, feeling emotions prick your eyes, and you nod, sniffling a bit as he caresses your face. “This is all your choice, I am perfectly content with the most vanilla sex ever with you.”

“I’m not vanilla, I’m like… french vanilla?” He laughs, shaking his head, and he takes your hand and kisses it.

“Pick a couple things and we will try them. How about that?”

“You’re a sweet dom hmm?”

“The only kind to be. Don’t worry, you’ll still get punished.” You giggle at that, then look in the drawer, curiously pulling out things. A long leather whip, a flat smaller one, peeking at the different kinds. “That one is easier to handle.”

“You think I can’t take a hit?” You tease, but you pick the one he suggests, handing it to him with red cheeks, then looking through more. “I don’t know if I would like not being able to use my hands? I love to touch you.”

“We could do a loose one on your wrists.” You look down at his tie, smirking. “Ah, you want this around them?” He loosens it, and you gulp, nodding eagerly. “Anything else you see?”

You’re nervously thumbing through, and there are shimmering objects still sealed in cases, you pop one open and flush. “Anal plug?”

“That’s too much for right now, don’t you think?” He says with a serious set to his lips, snatching it away. You tilt your head curiously.

“Now you think I couldn’t take it up the ass?” He sputters, and you laugh. “I’m teasing, no I never have. Not even… a finger or whatever.”

“It’s not something I’ve done too often, some women enjoy it though.” He shrugs, hands brushing your hair back rhythmically. It feels so good. He whispers in your ear, hot breath on your skin. “That cunt is so tight I’d never need it.”

“Fuck.” You flush at that, trembling a bit, curiosity wrecking you. “Would you wanna try it some time?”

“We can try the plug for now if you want. With a lot of lube. But I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You’re too sweet of a dom.” You tease, running your hand up and down his abdomen, under his dress shirt, feeling each muscle.

“You’re my darling girl, and very special to me.” He murmurs, your heart aches at his words, eyes meeting his hazel ones eagerly. “I’m more of a pleasure dom.”

“I can see that. I’m jealous of whoever got you before. Isn’t that so petty?” You pout, and he grins at that.

“Are you?” You nod. “I’m jealous that anyone had you.”

“Just one person.”

“I’d like to fight him in a ring. And burn his clothes you keep.”

“Kento!” You’re laughing now, and he grows serious, taking off his tie now, and it’s always the sexiest fucking thing he does. You moan softly. “We are petty and jealous, hmm?”

“We are. Because…” He gulps, and then he grabs your wrists, looking down at you. “I need you naked, darling.”

“Undress me then, Sir.” You whisper, and in a flash he has your skirt off, your top undone, your breasts spill out and he sighs, playing with them, cupping them in his big palms, already sensitive to his touch. “Thank you.”

“Already acting like a good sub, when you’re a brat.” He taps your nose, you giggle at that. “You want the tie, and you want this whip. What else did my darling girl desire?”

“This looks hot.” You pull out a leather collar. “Kind of goth?”

He snorts in laughter at you, and gently unclasps the collar, attaching a chain to it. “Goth, hmm? Maybe. It’s a leash.”

“Oh… like to choke me?” You ask eagerly.

“More to assert dominance over you, but it can be used to choke you, we just should be careful. Here.” He puts it on you, moaning softly at it. “You do look fucking beautiful with it. Anything else, darling?”

“The shiny jewel thing.” He snorts at that, shaking his head, and he pulls it out, along with a purple bottle of lube. “Kento I’m already so wet…”

“Not for your cunt, darling. Now, if this does hurt you, please tell me, I can take it out at any time. Understood?” You nod, he yanks your hair, and it hurts so good that you’re soaking his mattress with your dripping cunt. “It is going to be different, how I speak and act, but I always want you to know how much I adore you.”

“And I adore you, Kento.” You want to kiss him so badly, but he holds you at a bit of a length, smiling, eyes drinking you in.

“So you will say ‘yes Sir’ when I ask you if you understand. Understood?” You nod, biting your lip.

“Yes, Sir.” You say softly, and he kisses you as a reward.

“Perfect girl.” He murmurs, then he taps you. “I’m going to prep you a bit for this, even with lube I am worried. So, on all fours.”

“Yes Sir.” You do as he commands, on your hands and knees, and your thighs tremble when he gets between your thighs, his hot breath on your pussy, pressing his mouth and nose between your folds, inhaling you. His breath alone has you nearly cumming, shaking in pleasure when his tongue flicks up your slit. “Ah! Kento!”

He slides his tongue up, then back down, faster and faster, fucking you with it, sucking up all your wetness, and then he pushes a finger inside, stretching you, making you feel so full. He thrusts it in and out, faster and faster, making you moan, and then he adds a second finger, stretching you impossibly, and fucking you with those long, talented fingers.

“You love me stretching this perfect cunt, don’t you darling?” He whispers, and you nod eagerly. Something smacks you then, hard, and his fingers stop, you wriggle gasping then. “I asked you a question.”

“Oh fuck. Ow!” He gently whips you again, and it feels good , the air hitting the stinging whelp, making you tremble. “Yes, Sir?”

“Good girl.”

Fuck.

He bends back down, kissing your thighs, your pussy, flicking his tongue in your entrance again, spreading your ass wide, until he starts licking up further, and flicking his tongue on your ass. You squeal, his laugh is hot against you. “Are you sure about this love?”

“Yes, Sir.” He hums approvingly, sliding his tongue in little circles again, and you wonder at the sensation, so different than what you were used to, but before you could contemplate it, he was back eating your cunt, just teasing your little ass hole. “Mmm, it feels… good, Sir.” You whisper.

He continues to work you, a finger in your cunt, a thumb now rubbing your ass, and you’re more than a little nervous, when he pulls away, and then you feel lube cool down you, dripping everywhere. You squeak a bit, and he chuckles, you crave the sound of his laughter, crave his touch as he spreads you open more.

“Ready, darling girl?” You nod eagerly, he smacks your ass lightly with the flogger again. “Relax, fully. That’s an order.”

“Is it, Daddy? Ow!” He smacks you hard with the lubricated hand now, and you giggle, exhaling then, bending low. “Yes, Sir.”

Nanami pushes the lubed up plug against the entrance of your pussy instead, slowly pushing it in, spreading your tight heat around it. You feel stretched, aching, but it feels so good, too. He pushes it in deeper, stretching you until he hits your g-spot, and then he begins to twist, massaging it. You moan, arching your back, and then he yanks you up.

“Suck on it.” He orders, and you do so, tasting your pussy juices all over it, mixed with the lubricant, he moans as your eyes meet, as you suck the silver object. “I needed it extra ready.”

He ties your wrists easily then, behind you, feeling the silky cheetah tie on them was an ecstasy you could not even describe. Nanami gently pushes you back down, your face buried in the mattress now, helpless to his touch. He pushes the plug in your ass now, and you gasp, trying not to tense at the new sensation.

“Fuck!” You wince a bit as it stretches you.

“Are you okay, darling?” He murmurs, you nod, exhaling, as he presses it deeper, then twists it just a bit, making you gasp. “It’s in there. Do we want to try it for a while or should I take it out? I want you to enjoy yourself.”

“No, no, it feels… good?” He hums, spreading your cheeks, exhaling slowly, and you feel aching pleasure from the stretch. He keeps going, fucking you with the plug, making you feel full, making you feel owned, you’re crying out. “It looks really fucking pretty like this.”

“A bedazzled ass?” You tease, peeking back, seeing his heated gaze, and his smirk, he shakes his head at you.

“So mouthy, hmm. I have an idea for that.” He lifts you as if you’re nothing but a little doll, and you’re back on your knees on the soft plush rug under you. You feel a new pressure inside you that is overwhelming.

He takes off his shirt, and you drink in his sculpted body, pure perfection it was, every inch of him. Your tied hands don’t allow you to touch him as you want, you yank them just a bit, testing the slack, as his free hand glides down his abdomen, teasing the head of his cock as it strains against his pants. He unbuttons his pants, revealing the thick length of his erection, and pushes them down, along with his boxer briefs.

You look at him hungrily, your eyes tracing the veins that pulse along the length of his cock. He steps closer, pressing his hips against you, and guides his cock to your lips. "Be a good girl and do a good job, and I’ll reward you.”

“Yes Sir.” You whisper, he smiles approvingly, as his hand wraps your hair in his fist. You open your mouth eagerly, taking his shaft between your lips, and begin to bob your head up and down. Your tongue swirls around the head, tasting the saltiness and sweetness of his precum, he moans, gripping you tightly.

You suck him deep into your mouth, feeling the hot skin of the tip of his thick cock brush against the back of your throat, and you moan around him, wanting to please him, wanting to make him feel good. You can feel the heat of his body, the strength in his body, holding back to not hurt you. You ease back just a bit, and he allows you a moment.

Your eyes lock, seductively, hooded lids and your mouth is dripping in saliva and his precum. “Yes, beautiful girl?”

“Fuck my face, please. I can take it.” You urge, and he exhales, tension in his brows as he caresses your face so softly.

“Your hands are tied, and your mouth will be…”

“You wouldn’t hurt me, you know me so well, already. Just… try it with me. Please, Sir. I’ll do a good job.” You’re dripping so bad in your empty cunt at the thought you start pulsing, as he’s so fucking handsome, looking at you, spreading all your drool along your lips.

“Then, do a very good job, would you darling?” You nod, and he opens your mouth back up with two fingers. “Open wide, tongue out.”

You do as he asks, and his hands tighten in your hair, guiding your mouth back around his hard cock, and he’s slamming his hips with sure movements, encouraging you to take more of him. You do as he says, sucking harder, letting out a moan around his cock as you feel the pressure building inside you. You can feel the veins pulsing on his shaft, the heat of him, the taste of him.

He’s hitting a spot in the back of your throat that’s making you cry with each thrust, gagging you just a bit. “Relax that tight throat, pretty girl.” You breathe out your nose, doing as he asks, and he moans, louder, holding your face in place. “That’s it, that’s perfect.”

He’s so gently holding your face but his big, thick cock is wrecking your throat, and you’re crying full on tears, mixing with drool all over your lips that’s sliding out the sides of your mouth. You're so lost in the sensation that you hardly notice when he pulls his cock from your mouth suddenly, and he’s snatched you up, kissing you, tongue shoving in your mouth.

He pulls back, yanking on the chain, compressing your throat, deliciously making you dizzy. "Are you okay?" he asks, his voice low and husky.

You nod, as he wipes your tears. “I really love that. Pleasing you, Sir.” You whisper, and he moans, pulling on the chain, and then he stands back, admiring his handiwork.

“I’ve made a mess of you already, darling.” He murmurs, taking in your tears, your reddened eyes, reddened lips, chapped and raw from the friction. “And you are so, so pretty when you cry.” Nanami then trails his fingers down your stomach, teasing your puffy clit, having been neglected for the most part, it was so sensitive you arch your back, trying to get closer to his touch.

He smirks, enjoying your helplessness, as his fingers circle your clit, sending waves of pleasure through you. “Back on the bed, darling.”

You do as he bids, your legs are trembling as you walk, and you realize how bad you’re starting to ache with his teasing, with the plug still in you. A long finger slides in your aching entrance, pressure building in your cunt, mixing with a new pressure from the plug still in there. He continues to tease you with his fingers, driving you wild with anticipation. Finally, he pushes two fingers inside you, filling you up, and begins to thrust in a rough, punishing rhythm.

“Kento, please . Please.” You start to plead with him, arching your ass up for more, and then he pulls the chain of the collar, making your back arch like a bow, and you’re sitting on his fingers, grinding helplessly.

"Oh, you'll be able to cum soon enough, darling girl." He promised, his fingers still moving inside you, but it was you doing the work, helpless and eager. "But first, I want to hear you beg."

“I did beg. Ugh.” You grumble, he laughs a bit in your ear, yanking the collar harder now, and you feel everything get fuzzy.

“Crying for me again would really make me consider it.” He nips your ear, hitting that g-spot, pressing the plug further against you, stretching and filling you. You’re moaning, gasping for breath. “So helpless you’ll fuck yourself on my fingers?”

“Yes, Sir. Yes. Helpless. Fuck.” You’re uncaring of what he says, of how pathetic you are for his touch, you just are . A mess for Nanami.

“Try to get yourself off on them. Then I’ll help. Once you’ve earned it.” He orders, you glare back at him, and he’s grinning, fucking sexy as fuck. You sigh, looking down at his body.

“I’d rather get off on your face.” You murmur, and he grabs you tight with his free hand, moaning. “You want me to, to cum on your face, Daddy?”

“Who’s the Dom here, brat?” He yanks your collar hard, shoving his fingers in so deep you swear they almost hit your cervix. You laugh, fucking maniacally, arching your head back and looking up at his handsome face.

“Maybe I am not subby enough.” You tease, and he rolls his eyes, smirking at you.

“Do as you’re told, little brat. Then I’ll give you what you want.” You eagerly, rock on his fingers then, whining.

“Move them a bit!”

“No.”

“Ugh!” You wriggle this way and that, as his fingers are just still inside you, unmoving, your clit is left without stimulation, you have no clue how you can do this. “Hmm…” Then you straddle his thigh, moaning.

“Fuck you’re soaked.” He murmurs, his fingers stretch out just a bit, as you grind your clit on his strong, bare thigh, giving you the friction you need, and you start falling apart. “That’s it, cum all over me, so desperate you’ll ride my thigh, hmm?”

“Yes, fuck yes I am. Desperate for you, Daddy.” You tense for a moment, but he’s on his back quick after you cum, and he unties you, rubbing your wrists, kissing them softly. He yanks you on him, making you straddle his face, you flush at the position for a moment.

“Is my darling getting shy?” He whispers, and you nod just a bit. “Relax. Bend forward a bit.” You do so, and he gently eases the plug from you, making you exhale in relief. “Was it too much?”

“It felt good, just a lot to handle… everything.” He nods, kissing your leg that wrapped his face, flicking tongue over the soft flesh of your inner thigh.

“You did exactly as I asked, so you can ride my face till you cum, all you want, my perfect girl.” He says to you, in that baritone voice of his, and you moan, settling down further.

“Are you gonna be okay down there?” You tease, he laughs, nodding.

“I want it pouring all over my face, darling.” He murmurs, and you’re cumming as soon as you sit on his face, bracing yourself on your thighs, struggling to balance as one flick of his tongue makes you soak him. “So fucking easy.”

“I should shut your mouth, Sir.” You whisper, grinning, he laughs against your cunt then.

“Go right ahead, a perfect pussy soaking my face is fine with me.” You fully sit on him then, as his hands grip your thighs.

He nuzzles your folds, inhaling your scent, and then his tongue darts out, teasing your clit. You moan, arching your back into his touch, your hips rolling as you grind on his perfect fucking face. Nanami licks and sucks, teasing you mercilessly, as his fingers dip inside, finding your entrance and circling, looking for the perfect angle to penetrate, pulling more wetness, making it gush out.

You feel the familiar tightening in your core, and with one smooth motion, he pushes a finger inside you deep, filling you up while sucking on your clit. You cry out, the sensation sending shockwaves through your body, and you’re cumming again, this time harder, until you fucking fall back, shaking, panting, your every sense on fucking fire.

His big hands flip you on your back, and then he’s back between your thighs, and you scream. “Kento I can’t take anymore of it! Too much.”

“You can cum all over my face again, be my perfect girl.” He whispers, and your hand is in his silky sandy blond hair as he’s between you again.

His tongue continues its relentless assault on your clit, and his finger begins to move in and out, finding a rhythm that has you digging your nails into his strong shoulders now. You feel your orgasm building, the need growing stronger with each thrust of his tongue, each stroke of his fingers. He senses it too, and speeds up, his tongue flicking faster, his finger moving deeper.

Finally, you explode again, your body tensing and convulsing around his fingers. He groans, his tongue circling your clit as you come apart beneath him, so oversensitive your thighs try to close. He pushes another finger inside you, stretching you wider, before pulling his hand away to kiss you deeply. Your juices coat his lips, and you can taste yourself on his tongue as you sloppily kiss.

“You taste so exquisite my darling girl.” He whispers, easing the collar off you then, too, exposing your reddened neck to his kisses, hot and wet on your sensitive skin.

“Kento… I fucking…fuck.” You’re sobbing, overwhelmed, and he pauses, and you curse, but suddenly he’s filling you up, cock sliding deep in you, filling you finally, and you’re crying, it feels so fucking good.

Nanami Kento is over you, big hands on either side, cock sliding in inch by inch, more and more, hazel eyes studying you intently, until he’s fully in, and you arch your back, gasping, breasts pressing against his hot, hard chest. You cum around him embarrassingly fast, sobbing in pleasure, pulsing around him.

“You wanted to say something, darling ?” He asks, shoving into you hard, hitting your cervix, you’re crying out.

“Y-yeah. Fuck. Mnh.” He’s slowly fucking you, so different than the way he’d fucked your mouth, how he had eaten your pussy, no, he was going torturously slow, staring into your eyes, those flecks of green bright in the dim room.

“Say it then.” You tremble, clinging to him, kissing him deeply, arching your hips up, grinding against him, his pelvis snapping against yours as he hit so deep you started falling deeper, losing it. You gasp as he presses in, hands entwining with yours, which were still numb, lips a breath away.

“I’m scared, Kento.” You whisper, tears start to pour, hot and sticky, and he pauses, caressing your face with his big hand, brushing your tears, pressing in gently, you’re sobbing it feels so good, nails digging into his arms.

“Never be scared with me, darling. Never.” He kisses you, so deeply, and you can’t stop the emotion that overflows, as he slides out and back in, and is edging you closer to the abyss. You’re struggling to hold on to any sense of anything.

“Kento. Kento…” You’re whispering his name like a mantra, soaking wet around his hard length, making lewd squishing sounds as he slowly fucks you, in such deep strokes. His hands are trailing down your breasts, he lavishes a nipple with his tongue, you hiss when he nips it between his teeth. “Fuck… Kento… I…”

“Yes, my perfect girl?” He whispers, bending further, hitting deep as he sucks on another sensitive peak, and you’re going higher and higher. He’s watching your every expression, your every movement, so carefully, as his cock is wrecking your insides, up in your stomach.

“Please. Please.” You have no clue what you’re saying anymore, your vision is going dark as he lovingly puts his fingers around your throat, squeezing, pressing up until the air leaves your lungs. You climax so hard with it you feel like you are floating on nothing, can’t come down, barely hearing his whisper.

“Who do you belong to?” He whispers, and eases his hand off just a moment, you greedily suck in air, looking up at him.

“I belong to you. Only you, Kento.” He kisses you, teeth and tongues bumping, it’s messy, as you both moan into each other's mouths. You taste yourself on his tongue, you taste him on yours.

“You’re all mine, darling?”

“Yes, yes. Yes.” You’re nodding fervently, burying your face in his chest as he fucks you senseless, as he takes over every ounce of you. “Kento…”

“Fuck you feel so good.” He groans, pausing for a moment, exhaling, gripping you so tight, back to kissing you, possessing every inch of your mouth.

“Love. Love you. Kento.” You manage, as you’re panting out the words, as he’s pressing in so deep, sweat dripping from his chest onto your breasts, where his hand comes to cup one, staring into your eyes, out of breath himself, his lips are parted as he studies you. You freeze. “Fuck, forget that!”

“Forget it?” He scowls, yanking your leg up, shoving into you hard, and you throw your head back into the bed, sobbing now, as he fucks you into the bed, slapping of skin and your wetness loud in the room.

“Yes. Please.” You’re hardly able to see through the tears, hardly able to hear with the pounding of your heart in your ears.

“You don’t mean it, hmm?” He demands, silkenly, hitting your cervix hard then, to where you bucked up, crying and trembling.

“Fuck… I do mean it. I do. Mmm. Fuck, Kento!” He’s flipped you back to your tummy, pressed on you, sliding in and hitting that damn spot, the one that makes you gush all around his cock, screaming, gripping the sheets.

“Then say it. Say it, stop being a scared little brat.” He huffs in your ear, now reaching for the back of your hair, pulling it at the base of your neck, owning you, dominating every part of your being.

“I love you, Kento.” You’re crying the words out, between sucking in shaky little breaths, and he pauses, holding himself up, the weight of his heavy muscles pressing on your back.

“I love you too, so fucking much.” He murmurs, and you begin to sob more, as he kisses you, as he makes love to your mouth, your body, your soul. Your fucking heart. You gasp as he presses in so deep behind you, as he continues pulling your hair so that your neck was thrown back.

“You do? Ah!” He laughs, kissing the side of your neck now, two fingers toying with your slick clit.

“I am madly in love with you, darling little brat.” You laugh through your tears, breathless, arching your ass up for more of his slow thrusts, head lolling to the side as he lavishes it with his tongue.

“Loved you since… I first… saw you… fuck!” He moans, sinking his teeth into the soft skin of your throat, fucking you faster and faster as he bit you, teeth gently breaking your flesh, enhancing everything.

“I was stupid… I love you so much, my beautiful girl. Perfect girl. I’m close, so close, you feel too fucking good around me. So tight.”

“Cum in me, please, fill me up.” You shiver as he licks the bite, making it sting as the air hits it, as he presses even deeper, breaking you apart, bit by bit, hand leaving your sore clit to choke you again, taking over your little body with his huge one.

“Will you take all of it like a good girl, my love?” He asks, and you nod, digging further into his hold, his hand squeezing as he slows, making you feel every inch, oversensitive as fuck, you’re shaking everywhere under him.

“All of it. Want it all. Please, please, please. Fucking get me pregnant next.” You pause then, but he loses his shit on top of you, choking tighter, fucking so hard it hurt, pounding into your slick cunt, bringing you higher and higher as you lose oxygen again and everything is fading in and out as you’re feeling every sensation in every nerve ending.

“You want to get pregnant, do you?” He eases off your throat, you gulp up the air in your lungs.

“By you, Kento. Daddy .” He curses, loud, shaking above you, groaning, you laugh breathlessly. “You like it. Admit it. You’re throbbing.”

“I’ll fill you up, little bratty girl. Until you can’t run this mouth.” He shoves his fingers in your mouth, you’re sucking them off, the sweat, your wetness, and he’s wrecking you now. “Now be a good girl, and milk me for all of this cum, with that sweet little cunt of yours.”

“Mmmh!” You moan around his fingers, drooling, and you’re cumming hard around him, ass pressing up for all of it, for all of his hot cum that shoots up deep inside you, he’s groaning in your ear, gripping you so tight you can’t breathe. Everything fades to black and little glittery stars, as he gently releases you, moaning softly as he presses deep.

You both gasp, both so oversensitive now. “All of this cum, my darling.” He whispers, releasing your mouth to kiss it, shoving his still hard cock, pressing his hot ropes of cum deeper, as both of your liquids are sliding out of you, between your lips and around his thick, veiny cock in you.

“All of it. I can do it.” You whisper, he breathlessly chuckles, falling over, easing out of you, yanking you to his side. You’re crying still, hiccuping even, and he frowns, cupping your face.

“Darling, are you alright? Was it too much with-”

“Shh.” You kiss him, clinging to him, and he enwraps you in his strong arms, holding your trembling body. You ease your face back to gaze into his dilated eyes, as the shadows dance across the hard planes of his face. “Nanami Kento, you love me.”

He smirks, popping little kisses along your nose. “I do love you, silly girl. How have you not figured it out?”

“You’re really bad at showing your feelings, you know.” He sighs.

“I’ll try to get better at that.” He’s gently brushing your hair back, and it feels so good your eyes flutter shut at the situation. “I am crazy for you.”

“I thought it was just me, and you were like… enjoying the ride?” He frowns, shaking his head, continuing his soothing caresses.

“No, darling, I may not have known as soon as you, but I have fallen pretty fucking hopelessly in love. I can’t think of anything but how much I want to see you all the time, hold you all the time. Be with you. Be in you.” You moan, lips trembling, he’s wiping your tears now.

“You really just want me to cry huh.” He snorts at that, shaking his head. “Liar, you love it.”

“I mean every word.”

“I know, Nanami. I know you mean anything you say.” You love him so much it tears your heart, but now he fills it, he fills you. With joy, with love, with his fucking passion, with that cock… “Fuck I really threw in that pregnant thing. Promise I’m not going off the pill.”

“Although we are not ready for that just yet, I love the thought of you pregnant, it’s actually stupidly hot.” You giggle at that.

“Want my tits bigger and my belly big hmm?” You run your fingertips up and down his chest errantly.

“You’d be beautiful.” He murmurs, so seriously, hands sliding down the curves of your body slowly. “So beautiful.”

“Fuck, Kento. I’ll cry again.” You sniffle, burying your head against his chest, feeling his heartbeat steady and slow against your cheek.

“Are you sure you’re okay, my love? That seems to have taken…” He grins, deviously. “A lot out of you.”

“You’re saying I have shit stamina.” He bursts out laughing, and you lean up and scowl at him.

“You’re so cute when you’re mad.”

“Am not!”

“You’re not exhausted then, darling?”

You flush. “Well of course I am. Aren’t you, Daddy ?”

“I think I should have gone harder on your punishment.” You grin, and he rolls his hazel eyes. “You’re going to be a fiend.”

“How did I do as a sub, Daddy Dom Kento?”

“Stop it.” He pulls you on him, slick thighs around his lap, both of your cum pouring out of you onto his lap. You shiver at the sensation. “You’re not a good sub, you’re a switch at best. A bratty switch.”

You flush bright red. “I was trying!”

“Mmhmm, were you?”

You lean forward, hands on his chest, breasts swaying. He moans, grabbing onto them. “Teach me more then, Daddy. Or, Sir. One lesson and you give up on your student so quickly?!”

“You’re incorrigible.”

“And you talk old people talk.”

“Fucking brat.” He smacks your ass hard, and you jerk, hissing.

“Ouch!”

“I love you.” He shocks you then, and you melt, stinging ass forgotten, and you sigh, kissing him deeply, his strong arms wrap around your waist, big warm hands along the small of your back.

“I love you, so so much. Mmm.” You feel exhaustion hitting you then, at his comforting touch, as you realize how much all of this did take out of you. “Fuck, I am exhausted.”

“See, the stamina…”

“I’ll fuck again!” He laughs at you, white teeth showing, and his handsome face is lit up. “You’re so beautiful, Nanami Kento.”

“Beautiful? Have I fucked you completely loopy?” You scowl.

“You are a beautiful man. Every inch of you. Handsome face, chiseled god body, and that dick-ah!” He’s flipped you back over, leaving you breathless.

“You are beautiful.” He kisses your forehead sweetly. “Every bit of you. Your pretty little face, your gorgeous body, soft curves and these goddamn stripper legs.” He grips your thighs, and you moan.

“Should I get a pole for just you?” You tease, and he groans, you feel his length hard against your thigh, making you tremble.

“Say one more thing like that and I’m going again. And darling, I don’t think you can handle it.” You grin, and at that he glares, reproachfully.

“Oh no, Daddy, don’t punish me with your insanely big cock! Oh no, I am just so afraid! Ah, fuck fuck!” You cry out when he shoves in you, in your sore and sensitive cunt, hurting and stretching you out. “Fuck, mmm, too much.”

“You need to learn to listen, darling.” He lifts your legs around him, shoving in deeper and deeper, every stroke hurting and feeling so goddamn good you couldn’t find any energy to even move. “How’s that stamina, love?”

“Fucking… fucking shit stamina.” You cry out weakly, as he chuckles, then he is pulling you down on his cock, hard. “Can’t move, Kento. Mmm.”

“Will I have to use you as my fuck doll then?” You nod weakly, looking into his heated gaze, arms weakly reaching for him.

“Use me till you cum, Kento. Use me.” He moans, loud as fuck, and he fucks into you, stroking into your cunt, over and over, as you just lay down weak, falling apart with little cries. “Kento… can’t cum again.” Your head lolls to the side.

“You only want my cum?” You nod, and he fucks faster, faster, pressing your legs up against your breasts, you just lay there, spent, as he’s hitting that spot. You start to cry. “You’re such a pretty doll, crying under me.”

“Can’t cum… about to… don’t know… Kento…” You’re incoherent, as he’s dripping sweat on you, as he overtakes you, as he uses you, fucking so fast as he presses your hips hard into the bed, pinning you.

“Are you ready for more of my cum, then? You’re so greedy, darling.” He holds your face now as his body presses your legs against you, it’s hard to breathe, to see, as you lay there and weakly nod.

“Use me until you do. Please.” He pounds into you, and you can’t help but pant as you’re about to cum again. “Fuck… can’t… why…”

“Because, you’re easy for me, darling.” He kisses you then, and you’re cumming around him, pushing more of his cum out, only to be filled by more, as he pumps you fucking full, throbbing in you as you spasm.

“Kento! Unh.” You barely squeak it out, so spent, so exhausted, as he collapses on top of you, kissing you, moaning his sweet release in your mouth as you’re so full of cum it’s leaking all over.

“Is my greedy girl full enough of cum?” He murmurs, and you manage a little bit of a nod, eyes fading in and out, lids heavy.

“Yes, so full, thank you Sir.” You snuggle into him, hissing as he pulls out of your now wrecked little cunt, so messy and wet it’s unrecognizable. “Kento, so tired. So sore…”

“Need me to take care of you, love?” He asks softly, and you again give the smallest nod. “I’ll run you a bath.”

Next thing you know, you’re inside a hot bath, and Nanami is behind you, washing you gently, and you hiss when he touches you between your thighs, it hurts so bad you can’t think. You’re arching against him, looking back at him, raising your weak arm to caress his face with your dripping wet hand. He exhales, kissing you softly, deeply.

You are so in love with him, it’s intoxicating. Kissing him is like being drunk, fucking him is like being high, you can only feel all the fucking pleasure. You’re moaning when he’s kissing your neck again, head weakly falling.

“Love this. Love you.” You mumble, he sighs, pulling you hard against his wet body in the fragrant water.

“I love you, my perfect girl.” He kisses your cheek, sweetly. “I don’t think you can take another round.”

“Fuck no I can’t.” He chuckles, shaking you as you’re against his chest, you can’t manage a glare, you’re too sleepy, fading in and out. “Come, let’s get you in some jammies.”

“Yes. Please.” He’s drying you, he’s drying your hair and brushing it, he’s dressing you.

“You’re still just my little doll tonight, hmm?” He murmurs, and you weakly help him dress you, lifting your legs just a bit, sighing.

“Yes. Can’t move much.” You flop on the bed, and he laughs at you, softly. “You’re enjoying this. Making me into a blob.”

“You are no blob. A puddle.” You flip him off, he just laughs more, and then he is tucking you in, and he’s next to you. You inhale his clean scent.

“What happens now, Kento, now that we… are in love.” You murmur sleepily, he tenses a bit, then goes back to caressing you, snuggling behind you.

“What do people do that are in love?” He whispers. You hum.

“Fuck a lot?”

“I think we’ll do more than that. Go to sleep for now, darling, we will talk more tomorrow. You’re fucking spent.”

“Wonder why, stamina like a fucking racehorse.” You feel his laughter, and you’re fading out now, in the warm cocoon of his arms. “Never want to leave here.”

“I never want you to leave.” He kisses your temple. “Get some sleep, love.”

“Don’t leave.” You don’t know what you’re mumbling now.

“I’m going nowhere. I’ll be right here, my love.” You hum happily, and you fade out, wondering if this was all a beautiful dream, but now, you’re in his arms, in the arms of the man you love. Who loves you. You couldn’t dream anything this good.

Forever . You think you hear in your mind, but you don’t know. You don’t know anything, you’re floating into blissful sleep.

In Nanami’s arms.

Chapter 10

Ao3 chap

https://archiveofourown.org/works/56003029/chapters/144721441#workskin

[bunny-eats-fox]

heart on my sleeve

miyamura izumi

wc: 4700 warnings: female brash/loud/confident reader ; high school romance ; confession  an: my second hormiya story! i love him 🥺 enjoy~

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It happened a week before you officially started your second year of high school in a completely new, unfamiliar town.

You strolled through the park to get used to your way around the town. However, since it was already 8:40 p.m. and thus dark, you didn’t pay much attention to your surroundings any longer and instead you scrolled through your phone. Your long, painted fingernails tapping on the screen was the only sound that disturbed the otherwise peaceful quiescence.

 That’s when something different suddenly ripped apart that silence.

 “Ooiii, sexy lady, what are you doing here this late, hm?”, a complete stranger asked and stood up from one of the benches.

 Immediately, the disgust showed on your face and you thought ignoring him was the way to go. Hence, you didn’t answer and hastily walked past him. The young man, however, didn’t stop and instead, he followed you while spouting nonsense like, “Come on, you’re suuuuper erotic, you’ve just waited for someone to pick you up, right? Don’t be shy now.”

 You didn’t really know what that idiot meant; you literally wore a hoodie and short pants with some stockings. There was nothing revealing or tantalizing about your outfit. Even if you had chosen to wear something more saucy it wouldn’t have made this interaction any better or more acceptable.

 Sadly, ignoring him didn’t help and despite your usual short-temper, he was still a guy probably much stronger than you. Hence, while you were boiling inside and so close to exploding, you opted for something else when you saw another dark figure walking in the park. It was the only way to get out of this now.

 As you walked even quicker, you could finally properly make out the unfamiliar figure was another man, probably also in his teens, thus you started running towards him. Now, you only had to pray he wasn’t a creep either, but you hoped for the best here.

 “Daaarling~ you’re finally here!”, you chirped ecstatically and glomped a complete stranger, “I missed you so much, you kept me waiting!”

 That stranger was no other than Miyamura. Despite his initial shock, because suddenly a girl hung onto his arm and pressed into him like crazy, when he looked at your distressed face, he immediately knew this wasn’t some joke. And before he could say something, the young man from before appeared as well and he started cursing, “Fucking bimbo. Why are you dressed like that if you have a boyfriend, hah Bitch?! Hoe!”

 Even though his knees were shaking a little, Izumi didn’t think twice when he pushed you behind him further so the man couldn’t look at you anymore. As he desperately searched for the right words to say, the way he glared at the guy must have been scary enough.

  “Whatever, fucking pavement princess.”

 Then the guy finally left.

 “Pavement princess…? What the fuck!?”, you growled to yourself as you really had to hold back not to curse loudly - if that creep would hear and turn back, things would become very messy.

 Instead, you finally looked up to the boy you had glomped.

 “I thought my heart was about to give in.”, Izumi gasped as he clutched his chest, visibly scared but also relieved.

 And when your eyes met, a strong “badump” in your chest caught you off-guard for a second. That he was scared but still stood in front of you and saved you was seriously admirable and the stranger wasn’t even that bad looking either, rather the opposite. For a moment, Izumi and you stared at each other, before you realized you hadn’t said anything and was still glued to his arm. That was embarrassing.

 “Ah! I’m so sorry I suddenly did that and thank you so much for saving me!”, you hastily let go of his arm and stumbled back a little so you could bow properly.

 “No, no. Please, I’m so glad it somehow worked out.”, he sighed in relief and then smiled nervously.

 Another “badump” in your chest had your knees weak. He was so… handsome and yet so pretty too? The gorgeous stranger was exactly your type. For a girl you had always been taller than most of your female classmates since you almost reached 170cm, hence why you had always liked lanky guys the most. You were almost as tall as him. However, right when you wanted to open your mouth again to introduce yourself and also possibly get his name, your shrill ringtone echoed through the night which made both of you jump and him gasp. You couldn’t help but find that cute.

 “Papa? Sorry, sorry, I’m on my way home already. I’m coming!”, then you hung up and realized: Hold on… you didn’t know where your new apartment complex even was and you might have gotten lost in the park.

 “Uhm… do you… perhaps know which way this is?”, you looked up to Izumi and showed him your address on your phone. Sure, this could have seriously backfired, but you didn’t get those vibes from Miyamura.

 “Hm? Ah… I live there too.”

 “Heh?! Seriously??”

 “Mh, 7th floor. Let’s go.”

 Today was seriously your lucky day and just like that, you got to spend more time with the pretty boy.

 Safe to say, when you found out his name and where he attended school, you thought your perfect high school romance unfolded right in front of you. Things couldn’t have turned out any better…

 Is what you thought.

 But you thought wrong.

 You didn’t mind that Izumi changed his appearance in school, you still found him cute and handsome! Plus, you were very happy when you got the chance to walk to school with him due to you two living in the same apartment complex. Destiny couldn’t have been any nicer to you when you even got into the same class as him, however, the first day, you had already realized people treated him… differently.

 Maybe it was because you were “the new kid” but people naturally flocked to you and guys were interested in you, despite your efforts to just look and act normal. Since you were naturally just loud and confident, it got you attention. Though you never shied away from interacting with Miyamura the second you had a chance to.

 Izumi was happy you didn’t ignore him, despite the fact that it also didn’t go unnoticed by the people around you. It was only the third day of the new school year and he had to listen to some guys giggling in the corner how the new girl should seriously stay away from a gloomy otaku like him or your reputation would go down the drain as well. That’s when it hit him again that he was simply not in your league at all. You only knew them for three days and you fit right in. Well, he couldn’t blame them, you were just really… bubbly and nice. So the last thing he wanted was for you to get dragged down by talking to him.

 However, you were either oblivious to the fact that everyone whispered behind your back, or you seriously didn’t care, because you never stopped engaging with your crush. Izumi didn’t know what it was, but he was just thankful, because for once, he felt like he didn’t want to be invisible anymore as he enjoyed himself quite a lot when he talked to you.

 As for you… You did notice. Even your new “friends” had warned you already that being too fixated on Miyamura could have a bad influence on you, since you were the new kid and all. But you didn’t care. Not at all. Honestly, you wore your heart on your sleeve like an idiot. That had always been your problem, you were even aware of that yourself, but you couldn’t stop it. People noticed the big fat crush you had on him quite quickly.

 And Izumi also swiftly realized that this new happiness he felt whenever he was with you didn’t just came from the conversations he had with you. Although, as weeks passed, he realized another thing: His classmates and other students in your grade noticed you as well. And before he even had a chance to work out his own feelings towards you properly, he had to witness you getting confessed to.

 “Oi, oi, oi!!! Sugimori’s confessing to (Y/n)-chan right now!” Miyamura heard a student yell through the class.

 “That bastard it hasn’t even been two months!” Someone else laughed as they rushed to the window where they could watch the corner where you and that Sugimori guy met.

 Of course, how could Izumi even think he was the only one interested in you. Probably due to his own insecurities, he took your kindness just as that: Kindness. You struck up a conversation with him because that night he was the only one available and now you were practically neighbors, or at least only three floors apart. Miyamura was certain that you weren’t interested in him like that, hence he gave up before he even started.  

 Things like that kept happening in the following weeks. More often than not, guys would ask you out, but no one was ever successful. Well, most knew why that was. It seemed everyone but the boy in question knew about your feelings towards him. Hence the other boys in your second grade that had a crush on you, took it upon themselves to silence the man that stood in their ways way too many times.

 “Miiiyaamuuraaaa-kuuun?” A chill ran down his spine just from how his name was chanted like that. And Izumi’s senses didn’t disappoint when three boys suddenly came up to him in the hallway.

 Before he could even say anything, he was grabbed and pulled along. Despite his instincts to immediately resort to punching the living shit out of them, Izumi had to realize that against three boys, two of them even from the soccer club, he didn’t stand a chance. So all he could do was get dragged along. Did anyone help him? Of course not. Most students started whispering but turned away and thus, he landed in the gym equipment room – literally. They threw him against the cart full of soft floor mats.

 “Now… let’s talk about (Y/n)-chan, shall we?”

One of them said while the other two closed the heavy door.

 “Hmmm?”

 You stood in front of Izumi’s desk, wondering where the boy went. Usually, after you grabbed lunch from the cafeteria, you’d come back to your crush waiting for you, so you could enjoy your lunch someplace else.

 Though this time, he was just gone without a word. Sure, he wasn’t obliged to tell you every little thing he did, but it was still a bit strange. Especially, since the day you had started your second year at that school, you had always eaten lunch together.

 “Ah, (Y/n)? If you’re searching for Miyamura-kun…” And then they told you what they had seen, how he got dragged outside and that it looked really serious and not good at all.

 “Someone has seen them going in the direction of the boy’s gym, but-“

 That was all you needed to know as you put the food down onto his desk and you rushed outside of the classroom. When you heard “Sugimori, Tachibana and Sunao”, you knew that Izumi was in trouble. You remembered those three names; you had rejected all three of them at one point in the last weeks. Two of them were in your class, so they had probably noticed how you openly crushed on Izumi and weren’t too happy about it.

 “Shit, shit, shit, fuck this shit!”, you cursed under your breath as you hastily ran through the hallway and down the stairs.

 Once you ran into the gym you heard some gurgling and coughing behind the heavy steel door to the equipment room, thus you rushed over.

 “Miyamura?!”, you yelled his name when you opened the door, ready to fight whoever it was that tormented your crush, however…

 Izumi was gasping, visibly out of breath as he sat on two of them, his knuckles bleeding. Here you thought he needed to be saved, but in reality… he may have been lanky and looked somewhat weak, but he certainly knew how to pack a punch.

 When your crush turned to the third boy, he only winced and pressed himself further into the next corner, holding up his hands. Until they all looked at you and he dared to run past Miyamura and his two friends, right behind your back.

 “He is crazy! He just started attacking us out of nowhere. We just wanted to talk. He is violent! Look at what he did to them!”, he shouted and pointed to the bleeding knuckles and further down to the bleeding faces of Sunao and Tachibana.

 “I didn’t, they-“, Izumi immediately tried to defend himself, but was cut off.

 “Do you really have a crush on someone like that?! He’s a psycho!”, Sugimori continued and finally revealed your feelings to Miyamura.

 Who, when his attacker said that, Izumi was completely confused. A crush? You? On Him??? Never. He was sure you would deny it with every fiber of your body, but instead…

 “I do! Do you have a fucking problem with that, hah?! What is this shit?? Just because I rejected you, what are you, fucking 12?!”, you shouted as well now.

 Though all Izumi understood was: You… had a crush on him? He didn’t even have enough time to realize that when he got dragged along for the second time that day, though this time, when you grabbed his wrist and pulled him with you away from the scene, he didn’t struggle and followed quietly.

 He simply followed you through the hallways – once again, students watched intensely but didn’t say anything. That was honestly very awkward. Hence why Miyamura was so happy when you finally reached the nurse’s office and you were finally freed from the nosy, judgmental stares of everyone.

 You pushed him onto the bed before you went around the office and grabbed a few necessary things. Nothing was said, the air was heavy and he wondered if you could literally hear his heartbeat because of how loud and quick it was.

 “You’re… pretty good at this.”, he finally broke the silence when you were in the middle of cleaning his bruised, bleeding knuckles. Even though his hand was shaking a little and all he wanted to do was talk about your “confession”.

 “Hahaha yeah… I told you about my big brother, right? When he was in high school, he would always get into fights. It’s probably because of him that I lash out so easily and have a short-temper haha. Since my parents work a lot, even on the weekends or during holidays, they were working almost every day…So uh, long story short even though I was three years younger, I was the only one who could help him with these things so I got pretty good at it.”

 Then quietness engulfed you two once again as he watched you clean the rest of his hand, the cut lip and also the cut on his cheek. Once you were done, you sat down beside him on the bed.

 “I’m sorry, Miyamura.”

 “Hah? Uh, no! It’s not your fault, don’t apologize.”, he immediately said and gestured with his hands.

 “Well, I do feel like it is.”, you started nervously playing with your, “You know… I wear my heart on my sleeve, I know it’s bad and such a nuisance. Because of that, they knew how I felt about you and targeted you... I’m sorry.”

 “No, no, no really, it’s fine!” Then silence again as he nervously looked to the side.

 “So… it’s true… ?”

 “Hm?” You looked up, confused for a moment, but when he just lightly blushed and avoided your eyes, you knew what he meant.

 “Mh.”, you confirmed and nodded, “I like you. From the moment we met. At first, I just thought you were cool because you saved me and it definitely helped that you’re my type. But… on our way to school, in school, our way back and all the times when I get a chance to talk and be with you, I just enjoy myself so much. Really, it was inevitable that I would fall for you, haha. I just really… really like you.”

 You finally confessed and then looked back to meet his eyes. At first, you weren’t embarrassed, but when your crush blushed even harder, it suddenly got to you as well. You had just confessed. Spilled your feelings like coffee onto a table. Now, your face grew warmer as well as you quickly looked away and at the walls.

 “Ahh hahaha b-but you already knew, right? Haha I mean like I already said I wear my heart on my sleeve so it must have been obvious, haha so don’t worry, it’s okay if you don’t feel the same. I’ll be happy if we can just stay friends.”, you nervously scratched your neck and hastily tried to explain yourself. Since Miyamura had never reacted, you guess he just didn’t feel the same.

 “I like you…”

 “Eh?” It was so quiet you thought it was your wishful thinking.

 “I like you, (Y/n)-san. I… never realized.”, Izumi said quietly as he leaned forward a little so his hair mostly covered his embarrassed, red face because he couldn’t bare to look at you right now.

 “Eh? You didn’t?! Heeeh? Miyamura… you’re quite dense…”

 At that point you thought he might burn to ashes with how on fire his face and ears looked. My. You didn’t know someone could blush that much, it was really cute.

 “Mn. I really am…” He nodded and then finally dared to look up to confirm it once more while he looked at you straight in the eyes, “I like you, (Y/n)-san.”

 “Oh… So you like me too…” For a moment, you were too speechless, before it suddenly sunk in fully: Izumi liked you too.

 And then, you jumped up from the bed and spun around, “Wait, really, like… seriously?!”

 Even though Miyamura still looked bashful, he still smiled and nodded. Before he knew it, all he could see was white as his back hit the matrass and he stared at the ceiling. For a brief second, he was confused because you suddenly tackled him, though not for long as he started laughing and returning the tight hug quickly.

 It still felt surreal, but the way your hands shook as you grabbed him tightly and snuggled him was confirmation enough that he was, in fact, not dreaming. He had a girlfriend now.

 #

 „Izuuuummiiiii-kuuun~“, your whine got no reaction out of him, so you continued, “Izumi-kyun?…Izumi-dono? Izumi-sama? Izumi-saaaan? Izumi? Zuzu? Izu? Iz-“

 Finally, after you had seemingly “abused” him long enough with those nicknames, your boyfriend looked up (a cute blush adorning his cheeks since he still wasn’t used to you calling him by his first name) and shut your cute little mouth with his hand.

 “You know, (Y/n), I’m really trying to concentrate here.”, he said sternly, though as you saw the corner of his mouth twitch, you knew exactly that he didn’t mean it that seriously.

 So, you pouted for a second and then, to free yourself from his hand above your mouth, you flicked your tongue against the inside of his hand. All Miyamura did, however, was raise his eyebrow in amusement, completely unimpressed by your action. You were only dating for three weeks but… he was already used to your shenanigans, hence the hand stayed.

 As you playfully glared at him, because he wouldn’t free your mouth, you wanted to change your tactics, but before you could even try, you both heard the sliding door to your classroom open and a few of your classmates came in. When they looked at you, he immediately withdrew his hand and buried his nose back into your English notebook. It certainly didn’t help that they were giggling as they grab their stuff and headed out again.

 Of course, both of you still heard their cackling in the hallway and a few words like “cringe” and “embarrassing” also stuck out. It wasn’t something new per se. The moment people found out and you didn’t deny it, everyone had a few things to say.

 “Tch.”, you clicked your tongue, “Bitches.”

 “Don’t mind them, Izumi. Seems like some people just got mentally stuck in preschool.”, you sighed annoyingly and then turned back to him.

 Well… he was happy you didn’t find the need to hide the fact that you were dating, even though he would have understood. Your classmates weren’t the only ones who found you were way out of his league after all, but then again…

 Once you realized Izumi kind of got lost in his own thoughts, you let your fingers walk across the table to his free hand. The bruises and wounds from three weeks ago had thankfully healed fully, thus you gently nudged him. Thankfully, Izumi returned the gesture and slid his fingers between your own to intertwine them.

 “What are you thinking about, hm?”

 When he suddenly stood up, you were a little surprised, but even more so when he leaned over the table to press his lips against your own for a quick, soft kiss. It melted your heart right on the spot.

 “Nothing much.”

 “Oh my gosh, hurry up with this thing so we can go home already and enjoy the weekend!”, you groaned, “slapped” his hand away and buried your face in your crossed arms. You were so going to make out with him when you were finally home.

 “Hahahaha yeah, yeah I’ll hurry up if you stop distracting me.”, he laughed and went back to copying your notes from class.

 Later that night, he came into your bedroom, a towel in his hand as he dried his freshly washed hair. You lay in your bed with your phone in your hands and only looked up shortly when he entered. Though it was enough to gift him a small smile before you turned back to your social media app. Even that small smile was enough and his heart fluttered. During those moments, he wanted to let the world know even more how much he liked you and that you were his no matter what anyone else said or laughed about.

 Hence why he finally made up his mind.

 “Ne, (Y/n)?” He sat down onto your bed and slightly leaned in.

 “Un?” You paused your video and looked up.

 “Wanna cut my hair?”

 “Huh?! Ah, uh, fuck YEAH?! But… why all of a sudden?”

 “It’s not that sudden. I’ve been thinking about it for a while now and… since you said you want to become a hairdresser, I thought you might want to practice?”

 “Fuck yeah.”, you immediately sat up full of energy, “But… until now I’ve been practicing on my brother whenever he lets his hair grow out because he’ll always get a buzz cut anyways, but what if I mess up your hair?” Now you got a little nervous and you started twiddling your thumbs.

 “That’s okay. I can get it fixed tomorrow so I won’t look like a hot mess on Monday.”, he reassured you with a smile.

 “Mn… Okay, then I’ll give it a try, though…”, then you reached out and brushed through his long, damp hair with your fingers, “I’ll miss it.”

 “Mhmh, you liked it?”, he chuckled, which made you pout.

 “Obviously? With how much my hands are in your hair, shouldn’t that tell you everything?”, you giggled together with him, “Plus…”

 Now you got embarrassed though as you thought about your next words, hence you hastily looked away and stopped.

 “Hm?” Izumi cocked his head, his gorgeous blue eyes shimmering with curiosity.

 “Mhhhh…”, you grumbled shyly and then mumbled, “When we make out it’s nice to hold on…Or when we cuddle and I can feel it on my skin ‘n stuff…”

 Now, you’ve done it again. His face resembled a tomato once more. Despite the fact that Miyamura was quite straight forward when you two were alone (which surprised you at first, but a very pleasant surprise), that statement was too much it seemed.

 “Err uhm, but I’m totally for it, if that’s what you want.”, you swiftly continued and gestured with your hands a little.

 Inevitably, Izumi had to smile.

 “Yeah.” Nodding, he leaned in further to steal a little kiss before he stood up to get your chair.

 In the meantime, with a fluttering heart, you stood up as well and rummaged through your drawer to get your scissors and other tools you needed. It would be a good learning experience, but you sure hoped you wouldn’t fuck up his hair too badly. After all… imagining Izumi with a buzz cut was a little wild. However, at the same time also very funny, hence you couldn’t hold back the laughter that suddenly erupted from your mouth.

 “Hm? What’s so funny?”

 “Hahaha, sorry, uhm, I just hope I don’t fuck this up, because… Izumi… imagining you with a buzz cut…”, then you laughed again and tried to stop as you pressed your knuckles against your lips, shakily saying, “It’s just so funny.”

 “Ahaha yeah.”, he nervously chuckled, “I’d rather not do that if it can be avoided haha…”

 “Don’t worry, I won’t betray your trust, Izumi.”

 You finally got yourself together and got behind him.

 “I’ll be very, very careful and only take a few millimeters off at a time and I won’t cut it too short so there’s still something for the barber to work with if it needs fixing.”

 He listened to you talk as you started sectioning off his hair. Until, a few moments later, you suddenly stopped with a small “Oh.”

 “Oh?”

 Out of the blue, he felt your arms around his shoulders and your weight on top of them as you leaned against him. While you cuddled your head against his, he wondered what just happened.

 “Soo… maybe you can wait just one more week?”

 “Err, I mean… sure. But why?”, he asked, a little confused.

 You didn’t answer him for a few seconds and he was about to turn his head to directly look at you when you finally raised your head and leaned in to his ear to whisper, “I miiiight have given you a hickey when we made out earlier… And it’s maaaaybe just quite visibly when you put your hair up…or cut it… ehe…”

 “Oh.” That was all he said.

 “I’m sorry, Izumi.”

 “No, it’s okay. I’m… surprised I didn’t see it when I took the shower.”

 “Ah, well it’s right here.” You pushed your fingertip against the blue mark you had left underneath and slightly behind his ear. That made him flinch and whine. That was cute.

 “You can’t see it when your hair’s down so that’s why. So you also don’t have to worry about anyone else seeing it. Sor- Wah?!”

 Completely unprepared, Izumi had grabbed your hand and pulled you forward and into his lap. The scissors and clips fell from your hands onto the floor due to the sudden movement. And the look on his face told you he was not amused, rather… it looked impish.

 “Ne… (Y/n), since your hair also covers up that area, it’s only fair if I do the same, don’t you think?”, he smiled mischievously and you knew then and there you were doomed.

 “What? No, I mean, it’s- Yaahhh Izumi!”, you squeed at the end when he grabbed your thighs and carried you the one step back to your bed in which you both then fell.

 A playful fight started which contained rolling around in your bed, pushing the pillows and blanket down together with a few plushies you kept on there. At the end, however, you gave up and before you knew it, the fight had turned into tangled limbs and inevitably also tangled mouths as a second make out session started.

 Well… at least you could enjoy his long hair for just a tad bit longer now.

--------

all characters canonically under 18 are always aged up in nsfw scenarios ; english is not my native language so i apologize for any mistakes  

[starlightsuffered]

Halfway Party

Warnings - dom female, scratching, dry humping, teasing, sub Timmy, unprotected sex

Timothée and I had been together almost a year now. Although he was probably the most beautiful human to ever grace the planet, sometimes our bedroom shenanigans could be very mundane. It wasn't as if I didn't enjoy every time, trust me, I did, but it was predicable.

I'd turn him on or he'd turn me on in some way, he'd get on top of me, a little foreplay, then he was fucking me.

We never really changed positions, and he was always on top.

I had never expressed this, for fear of scaring him off, but I usually enjoyed being the more dominant one. I'd discovered this a long time ago, but I never thought any boy would want that.

However, we had just said "I love you" to each other for the first time. Plus, we were celebrating the fact that ! was officially halfway done college this weekend. I thought that maybe this would be the best time to approach the subject.

On the night of my "halfway party" I was feeling guilty as hell. Timothée had already given me a new dress, a decadent bracelet, plus paid for all the food for the party. Maybe it wouldn't be fair to ask a new sexual act of him that he may or may not want. I kept telling myself not to think that way, a relationship was a give and take.

He wouldn't be scandalized that I wanted to try something new... hopefully. Also, I didn't have to earn the ability to talk about my preferences, I needed to stop thinking that way. Still, I was scared.

I might have lost my nerve if it wasn't so obvious through the night that Timothée was horny as hell for me.

Maybe others couldn't tell, but the strain in his jeans had started when I had come out in my form fitting black dress. He was also being rather handsy, fingers moving up and down my arms. He pushed himself as close to me as possible during the night. His eyes were dark with such a lust that it made my body ache and my cheeks redden.

Finally, my friends and family had all filed out. Timothée and I were alone. My knee was jumping nervously and I couldn't keep my hands still.

"I suppose I should clean up," I squealed, making to get off the couch. Timothée's arms immediately surrounded me and held me in place.

"To be honest," he said, his hot breath making chills run down my spine. "I had other plans." He nipped at my neck and it just made me want to pin him down and take him all the more.

"Timmy, I have to tell you something," | managed to get out.

His carnal actions immediately stopped and he pulled back. His green eyes darted over my face, trying to sus out the meaning behind my words.

"What?" He asked, and I swore | heard fear in his voice.

"Oh baby," | kissed his quickly. "It's nothing bad, just something l'm a bit nervous to say."

"Oh," his whole body relaxed, and he grinned lazily at me. "Baby you can tell me anything, don't be nervous."

"Okay," I looked him dead in the eye. I wanted to properly gauge his reaction, I didn't want him doing this just to indulge me.

"I have realized, over the course of my life, that there's something that really turns me on."

Timothée sat up straighter, eyes locked on my face. I didn't dare look down, but I believed his cock was probably hardening even further in his pants. That look of concentration always meant pleasure would be coming my way.

"I-l like to be more dominant, and in charge in the bedroom. I really get off to the feeling of power. I know that might not be your thing."

I cut myself off, sucking in a breath as I looked into Timmy's eyes. I was surprised to see his pupils blown out with lust. He was biting his lip and I could see his hand, fingers twitching to touch himself.

"That's definitely something l'd like," he said, voice huskier than l'd ever heard it.

That was all the permission I needed to take charge. I straddled him, and attached my lips to his. I ground down on him as our tongues moved together in our mouths. He was moaning like l'd never heard him moan before. I began to bounce slightly on his hardness as I tangled my hand in his hair and yanked his head back to access his neck.

"You're so gorgeous," I spoke into his neck. "You wouldn't believe the nasty thoughts I think about you."

Timmy moaned and squirmed. My lips were sucking on his neck like a vampire and I could not be prouder of the large purple and red mark I left when I came up.

"You're amazing," he breathed.

"You haven't seen anything yet," | winked and he bit his lip.

I aided him in taking of his shirt and I disposed of mine as well. I pushed him down on the couch and licked a strip up his chest. I began to lick and suck on his nipples. While I did this, one hand clawed into his back, and the other palmed his hardness over his jeans.

His moans were something different than ever before. Whiny, breathless, and heavy. It was beautiful. The whole display was as gorgeous as the ceiling of the cistine chapel. His heavy breathing, helpless figure, totally given over to pleasure, made my whole body ache with lust. I was already so wet, but I was also on a high I didn't want to end.

I kissed down his body as his hands massaged my breasts and unhooked my bra. He was gasping for air, his cock throbbing in his pants. I left two love bites on his hip bones and unzipped his pants. He was left in his black boxers, heaving.

I decided to tease him, running my hand from his neck to his ankle making sure to brush his cock lightly every time.

"Stop," he gritted out finally. "I can barely take it, please."

Hearing him beg practically had me devouring him. He was so beautiful laying there. His chest moving up and down rapidly, red and purple marks covering his neck, chest, and hips. I could still see where my nails had dug into him and where l'd licked his chest. His eyes were begging, his lips swollen from him and I biting them. He was the most lovely thing l'd ever seen.

"You beautiful boy," I crooned. "You want me to make you feel good don't you?"

I had taken on this persona and it felt right and good.

"Yes, please," he gasped.

I moved up and kissed him sloppily as I moved my hand over his member through his boxers. His little whimpers gave me life. But I knew him well, I knew when he was about to cum, so I stopped just in time.

"Cool down a bit," I ordered and climbed off him.

"What!" He demanded, sitting up.

"I said," I pushed him down onto the couch roughly.

"Cool down," I pressed a sweet peck to his lips and moved to the center of the room.

"You. Are. Awful." He panted. I shrugged, a sly smile on my lips.

I began to strip completely as he watched. I slowly pulled my dress the rest of the way down my body. Since he'd taken off my bra, I only had my panties left. His hand moved slowly towards his dick.

"Dont!" I commanded. He let out a breath of exasperation.

"Watch me take my clothes off," I said softly. "And take yours off too."

It didn't take long, both of us were only in our underwear at this point, but I hoped it bought us enough time so that we both didn't cum right away.

I approached him again, kissing him gently. I ran my hand over his body again, still standing over him.

"You know," | mused. "Since the moment I met you, I wanted you, not just physically but in every way. I love you more than anything. I love your body, and your looks, I love your personality, and the way you make me feel. I especially love your soul and heart. I am so deeply in love with you Timothée Chalamet."

Before he could get a word out I lined him up with me and sunk onto his throbbing cock.

"Fuuuuuck," he exclaimed.

I began to move up and down.

"Wait!" He said, and the way he said it showed he was using a lot of strength and self control to do this.

"You didn't let me answer. I love you too, more than the stars and the moon and the sun. You mean the world to me. You are amazing and I can't believe I get to be yours and you are mine."

I nearly teared up but I leaned down and kissed him gently. As I did that, I raised my self up and slammed down.

"Fuck me," Timmy begged and cursed at the same time. I obliged, moving up and down on him.

"Fuck you're so deep, you make me feel so good," I groaned as we moved. Timothée's hands dug into my hips, and I hoped it left bruises.

"You're so fucking sexy I can't stand it," he gasped. I smirked as I bounced faster, his hands feeling me up languidly.

"Baby l'm so close, can I come?" He asked. The fact that he asked me made my pussy ache even more, even though he was deep inside me.

"Yes, do it, come in me you amazing boy," I said kissing him.

With that, he let out a pornagraphic noise from his swollen pink lips and let his seed spurt into me. I made circling motions with his hips as I rode him through his orgasm. I came as he was finishing, small whimpers leaving my mouth as I felt him help me along by massaging my clit.

I finally collapsed on his chest cuddling into his warmth.

"Okay, I don't know if that was the same for you, but l've never cum that hard in my life. That was beyond amazing."

"I've never felt that good either," I admitted.

'So it was good for you?" He asked quickly. "So you'd want to do it again?"

"Little eager are we," | chuckled.

"Fuck yeah I am, that was heaven incarnate."

I kissed him deeply, so glad to have someone who matched so well with me.

"I've wanted to do that for a while, l've just been too nervous to ask."

His lips curled and his eyes brows raised.

"What l'm reading between the lines is that you have more dirty plans for me that you have fantasized about for a while."

''Maybe," I said with a wicked smile. "You'll have to beg and see." | winked at him and he pulled me closer. I felt more content than I ever had.