#THEIR FIRST KISS..........................

[hansoeii]

A latte with lots of love!

[katsdynam1ght]

@decadenttaleenthusiast it’s touya. keigo’s a straight-A student (he hates it) and touya can’t be assed to even try. but if touya fails he’ll have to leave and keigo doesn’t want him to go, so. tutoring sessions ensue. results vary depending on how motivated touya is

[consultingfujoshi]

imagine you are a gay man in your 60s and you've been in the military most of your life so you've never been free to be yourself or to seek out people like you and as a result you're now elderly and alone and you've spent a lifetime betraying yourself and you've never been loved and you get experimental brain surgery to cope with this and then one day you learn that the innocent child version of yourself who knows nothing of your isolation or your sins fell in love with another man and the man he loved was killed for pursuing that relationship and then your other self is also killed presumably for the same reason but you meet the other version of the man he loved and he's married but he wants to get to know you and you don't know him but you have some inextricable connection, something is pulling you towards him and you know you shouldn't trust him but you do and you just don't want to be alone and his husband is kind of a dick so you follow that feeling and it leads you right into a trap he set for you and it turns out that he was just manipulating you all along, to make you let your guard down, and you fell for it because there's a part of you that wants to put your life in his hands and so you do and he takes you to a train station and tells you to get as far away from here as you possibly can, he's saving you perhaps even at the cost of his own life and you think maybe you weren't entirely wrong about trusting him so you tell him you want him and he doesn't deny he wants you back, you tell him you're ready to be loved by him and you don't even know what that means but you keep saying it over and over because it just feels right, like you've been waiting for this your whole life, and maybe you have, all you know is your life hangs in the balance but for the first time you're not afraid, and maybe his interest in you was under false pretenses but you don't care because there's a part of this that's real and you both know it, he doesn't let you kiss him but he lets you touch his face and stroke his cheek with your thumb and then you walk away and get on the train with your dog going to god knows where and as the tracks whisk you away into the great unknown and the dying light of a cold winter day paints your face you think maybe you have been loved all along. happened my friend irving bailiff

[kyri45]

Traffic Trio, My beloveds (ALSO FINALLY! FREENOODLES KISS!) Give her a break Mei she's in high heels!

Shadowpeach Bio Parents AU - The End Credits (PREV/ FIRST / )

Next part is coming on March 16th, 1PM ET

[ninjautizm]

Based on a twitter trend,, 😋🫶

[neigepomme]

cw // suggestive. caleb likes to catch a glimpse of your panties.

after you and caleb started dating, he got comfortable real fast.

physical touch with him was always something you were used to, and that didn't change at all. always hugging, always holding hands, always laying your legs on his lap. it was the usual, really.

of course, kissing was new though — caleb was your first kiss back in high school, but the two of you never spoke of it again (although you're both grateful you were each other's firsts). you got used to that quickly, too, giving his lips a quick peck before he left for work or kissing him more deeply when he had to spend some time away from you in the deepspace tunnel.

what caleb got comfortable doing (and what you were still not used to), though, was lifting your damn skirt. his gravity evol was useful, don't get me wrong! he'd catch plates before they dropped to the floor, or he'd make the tv remote float towards you when you were too cozy beneath the covers to get up.

but that damn pilot made you reenact marilyn monroe's flying skirt scene every single time you walked past him. and every single time, he'd just offer you a smug smile and a comment along the lines of “cute apple pattern, pips", while dodging the hits you were determined to land with a boyish laugh.

unbeknownst to you, he was cataloging your panties in his mind, and he had his favorites — the purple lacy ones being at the top of the list (which he definitely planned on stealing later, but you didn't need to know that).

what can he say? turns out golden retriever caleb is nothing but a nasty dog.

(w)oof!

🍎 pomme's final notes — alexa put on sir mix-a-lot's nasty dog 🐕

[humanjarvis]

lads LIs when you're hesitant to initiate kisses

sylus understands your hesitancy to make yourself vulnerable, but he also can't stand to see you unfulfilled. the first couple times he catches you staring at his lips, he offers nothing but lazy blinks and slow smirks, challenging you to come to him first. but when you look away in uncertainty one too many times, seemingly content to watch your own desires slip away as long as it saves you from embarrassment, he saunters toward you, maintaining eye contact all the way. placing one hand on your hip and the other on your chin, he bends to capture your lips with his, making you stumble with his intensity. his grip on you only tightens when he breaks the kiss, and before you can ask what he’s doing, he tugs you toward his lips. when you lose your balance and fall into his embrace, you realize his game: he’s making you kiss him first 

zayne empathizes with your shyness and hesitancy, afraid to so much as look at you the wrong way in case he offends you. since you’re both too frozen in overthought to make the first move, you don’t become intimate as quickly as most couples, trading physical closeness for emotional understanding. when he walks you to your door after a visit to the bakery, he leaves you with a warm goodnight hug, and you both assume the other is satisfied. only when you think he’s asleep on the sofa one evening and press a fond kiss to his cheek does he realize you share his private desires. the next day, after stoically psyching himself up for 20 minutes, he finds you in the kitchen and kisses you deeply, a pink tinge on his cheeks when he pulls away

caleb wants you to kiss him first—or at least ask him to kiss you—but what if you won’t? he needs to know that you want him—that you’ll willingly give him the privilege of kissing you—so he gives you a few pushes in the right direction. he teases you with heated glances and not-so-accidental touches until you walk up to him, dumb with desire. when you stare up at him helplessly, he settles a large hand on your waist and hovers over your mouth, giving you the chance to push him away. when you don’t, he leans in slowly, tantalizingly, as if wanting to drive home the fact that you’re letting this happen to you—letting him claim your mouth in a slow, consuming kiss. this way, maybe, just maybe, you’ll find the courage to take what you want from him next time—if you let him taste you, there’s no need to be shy anymore, right?

you know rafayel, so you know he would be upset if you expected him to initiate everything—would it kill you to show a little interest in him? that said, you also know that initiating things isn’t really your thing. so, you find a trick that works like a charm: you goad him into kissing you. you’re comfortable enough with kisses to other places—anywhere but the lips—so you adorn his cheeks and neck with soft, chaste kisses until he’s riled up and flushed, his breath coming out in soft pants from the pleasure of feeling wanted. when you pull away, he chases your touch, and all it takes is an innocent giggle from you before he’s pinning you down and stealing your breath away, his tongue tangling with yours in passion and power.

xavier is confused and a bit discouraged when he realizes you never initiate��he thinks you just don’t want to kiss him. one afternoon, you find him sulking in bed, huddled under his comforter with the lights off. worried he’s sick or hurt, you ask what’s wrong, and he gives you 4 pouty non-answers before finally giving in. you can feel your face heat and gut tangle in guilt when he questions if you ever want to kiss him, and with one hand stroking his hair, you confess that you’re simply too shy to kiss him first. he responds with a blink and a whispered “so you do like me, then?”, and when you nod, he tackles you at the speed of light, pressing kisses all over your face before finally claiming your lips

a/n: anon who asked me if i’d ever write for zayne and i hinted at later this week this is not what i was talking about don’t worry, just an impromptu writing exercise to convince myself i’m not washed. also while this technically counts for xavier and raf i’m the least familiar with their cards so idk if/when i can write anything much longer than this for them (love them tho)

[reignpage]

Husband!Nanami missing you

Usually it was Husband!Nanami leaving for business trips, not you. But for one reason or another, the roles have been reversed and he doesn’t quite know how to feel.

“Bye, sweetheart. Text me when you get there, alright?” He says, stroking your cheek with his thumb. Everything you could possibly need for your week-long trip is organised meticulously in your suitcase so you’re all packed and ready to go, thanks to him. 

Giggling, you peck your husband on his lips. “Yes, I will. I’ll text you so often you’re going to get sick of me.”

Husband!Nanami smiles. How could he not?

“That won’t ever happen, sweetheart. You should get going now; you still have to get through security. I love you.”

“I love you more!” You yell out, rushing away with a final wave goodbye. 

Under his breath, he mutters, “I love you most.”

And so that was that.

Husband!Nanami returns to an empty home, already feeling your absence. He knew he’d have a difficult time — he always did. Whenever he was away to Kyoto or Osaka or even further, he would count the days till he gets to come back to you. But now, he’s counting down the days till you get back to him and gosh, time really does move slowly when you’re not having fun.

On the first day, he busies himself with all the things he doesn’t really get to do when you’re home. Things like reading a book (you find him absolutely adorable with his reading glasses and he can barely get through a chapter before you’re snuggling up in his lap and distracting him with kisses), watching the news (you much prefer fiction over cold, harsh reality and he obliges you every time), and taking a nice, long and relaxing bath on his own (he always has wife-shaped bathing buddy occupying the tight space with him).

Husband!Nanami never complains about the fact that most days he has go without the solo activities he used to cherish before being in a relationship with you. Of course not. It wasn’t as if he ever ‘gave up’ or ‘sacrificed’ anything. Things were just different.

But a good different. 

He knew that getting with, proposing and marrying you. And he knows that now. 

Especially when he realises that none of his books from his ‘to be read’ file are very interesting, what with them all being about the same thing — he really ought to branch out into other genres. The news is depressing and all there seems to be these days are bloodshed and destruction — as a sorcerer that’s all he’s ever know, so why would he subject himself to anymore of it at home?. And baths?

Overrated. 

Unless, of course, they’re shared with you; he’d much rather feel your soft, warm flesh against his. 

That sole thought occupies his mind as he spontaneously boards a plane and counts down the hours until he gets to see your face, likely full of surprise but also, hopefully, of acceptance and love. 

Husband!Nanami isn’t ashamed to admit he couldn’t last a day without his wife. He isn’t ashamed to admit that living alone, without you, is his worst nightmare. And he will never be ashamed to declare to the world that he doesn’t even think he exists outside of you. 

Because to your Kento, he is a husband first, and everything else second.

[merakidoll]

the third part to porn star!toji, the other two are on my m.list 🎀

“what a good pussy” toji held your legs that were pressed together back so that they were by your ears. you bitting your lip and letting out long moans that could never be faked when you were with him. you and toji had quickly became one of the most popular duos on the porn sight. something about your innocent face and act being able to take the big, buff, mean man, and not a lot could say they did. another thing was toji never ever did multiple videos with one person. but you? oh, now he only wanted to film with you. “be rougher toji” you heartbeat sped up at the sound of his wife’s voice. your nails digging into his skin making little dents as your cream made a mess all over the faux dinner set up.

a cook and the hot waitress. the white hat on toji head moved, but never came off as he spead up his pace. your blue apron dress was pushed up to be over your tits, then bouncing with every pump. the sound of your wetness and skin clapping had everyone paying attention, the sight being one that was beautiful. “f-fuckkk” you cried, camera man two coming close to get a video of your teary face, then the view of toji going in and out of you. his balls slapped your ass, and with small grunts passing his lips. your head lolled to the side where you were met with the crew. your orgasm was right there. toji sensing it with how you quieted down, but your pussy got louder. “you there princess?” you bit your lip turning to look at him. slowing himself down, he bent forward, so that his breath fanned against you.

“wanna make that pretty pussy cum for daddy or what?” his words made your tummy tighten. “ohgoddd!!” using your hand to try to push him your eyes closed, pussy creaming nice and deliciously around him making a bit of a mess against the table. “not god baby, just toji” bitting his lip he let a growl out, his head turning to look at the camera as he slapped your ass making eye contact with his wife. as he stared at her, he fucked you through another orgasm while stuffing your cunt full of his load. he couldn’t help but smirk as she winked at him, groaning when you clenched down. “and scene” the room clapped while toji rolled his eyes, putting his attention back upon you.

he slowly pulled out of you, his cock limp and resting on his thigh. a smirk was on his face watching your body still quiver, and the harsh breaths you took. “always so good for me angle” he cooed quietly taking the robe form you assistant and shooing her off. still, he was immersed with how the mix of you two dripped from your cunt. “so good for us” a voice said making you jump and toji laugh. you watched his wife walk up to you both with a small smile on her face. “unt un wouldn’t wanna waste that now would we?” you were confused at first - looking around at the now empty set wondering what she was talking about. it wasn’t until you felt her finger scoop up the cum and push it back inside of you. her fingers rubbing against your gummy soft walls making your legs shake, a soft cry coming from you. and toji watched with a smirk the whole time.

you were shocked. what was happening? but you were loving every second of it. in the next moments still pumping her fingers in and out of you, she leaned down kissing you. your tounges swirled together as something slipped into your mouth, to which you moaned swallowing it; then she pulled back with a smirk. “plan b. don’t want you pregnant just yet” with a peck to your lips she walked away. leaving toji to pick up your shocked frame and whisper how you were theirs.

what was happening?

[moonlightwritingf1]

The Night She Finally Gave In | LN4

🎀 summary ━━━━━━━ For eight months, Y/N teased, denied, and kept Lando chasing—but he never gave up. Until one night she finally gives in. 

🎀 pairing ━━━━━━━ Lando Norris x she!reader

🎀 word count ━━━━━━━ 7.9k

🎀 warnings ━━━━━━━ +18, sexual content, p in v, unprotected sex, creampie, oral sex (f receiving), dirty talk, teasing

Based on this request.

The persistent hum of the city pulsed against Y/N’s ears as she stepped off the crowded London sidewalk and into a cozy Shoreditch lounge. Music throbbed under low lighting, and the place was already bustling with familiar chatter. Tonight, she was meeting Pietra and Max for casual drinks, but she knew one other person would be there—someone who’d been on her mind more than she cared to admit. Lando Norris.

She spotted Pietra first, her friend waving her over from a corner booth. Max, Pietra’s boyfriend and Lando’s best friend, grinned in greeting. Y/N slid into the booth and unwrapped her scarf, letting the warmth of the lounge soak into her. Before she could even settle, an electric awareness sparked at the base of her spine. She sensed him near before she actually saw him. And sure enough, there he was—leaning against the bar, exchanging an easy laugh with the bartender, but already casting sideways glances in her direction.

For over half a year, Lando had chased after her with single-minded obsession. The moment they’d been introduced—eight months ago at a friend’s barbecue—he’d made his interest painfully obvious. Texts at odd hours, random calls whenever he was in London, spontaneous outings with their mutual friends that always ended with him trying to corner her for a private moment.

She found it thrilling at first. She teased him mercilessly, indulging in the attention of someone so persistent and quite obviously smitten. She’d let him buy her drinks, whisper silly compliments that made her cheeks warm, and flirt back just enough to get his heart pounding. But any time he tried to escalate—from a lean-in kiss to a direct request for a date—she’d reject him. Gently, but firmly. Over and over.

Why did she do it? Maybe she wanted to protect herself from the potential heartbreak of dating a man adored by millions. Or maybe she reveled in the power of knowing that someone as high-profile as Lando Norris was practically wrapped around her finger. Whatever the reason, the game had dragged on for months, and he never gave up. If anything, each rejection only seemed to strengthen his resolve.

And how he persevered. In those eight months, she had watched him run himself ragged trying to impress her. No matter what she threw at him—a dismissive laugh, a pointed change of subject, a half-hearted excuse—he always came back stronger. She’d catch glimpses of his frustration sometimes, in the tight line of his mouth or the way he’d fist his hands at his sides, but he never unleashed that frustration on her. Instead, he teased, he flirted, he praised. And every time she knocked him down, he got up again, more determined than ever.

Lando was desperate. His affection for her had morphed into an all-consuming fascination. When he was away in Monaco, racing or fulfilling sponsor obligations, he’d tell Max how he couldn’t stop thinking about her. He’d message Pietra, trying to get any new details about Y/N’s day. He was head over heels, losing sleep, replaying every interaction they’d ever had—each brush of the fingers, each clever remark that made him laugh, each time she chewed her lip and pretended not to look at him, even though he felt her gaze.

She, meanwhile, was enjoying the slow burn. It was cruel in a way, but exhilarating. She loved the sense of power over a man who had the entire world at his feet yet seemed willing to crawl if it meant she’d say yes. She wasn’t intentionally cruel—she did like him. In fact, she liked him a lot. But the thrill of him chasing and her evading was addicting. She made sure to flirt just enough to keep him on the hook—an extra lingering stare, a subtle graze of her hand across his chest whenever she passed by him at a party, a playful text that ended with a winking emoji—only to turn cold if he tried to corner her for anything more.

And it worked. She reeled him in, then pushed him away, over and over. Each time, he fell deeper under her spell, thoroughly bewitched by the side-smiles, the confident tilt of her chin, the way she’d arch an eyebrow whenever he tried to inch closer. Lando found himself wanting her with a fierceness he’d never felt before. Some nights he’d lie awake in Monaco, scrolling through photos of them at group events—her bright eyes, her maddening half-smiles—and wonder what he had to do to make her his.

So here she was again, sliding into a lounge booth with Pietra and Max, fully aware of Lando’s presence across the room. She greeted her friends with a sweet smile, but her pulse fluttered. Lando soon made his way over, wearing a casual denim jacket and a grin that betrayed a hint of nerves. He paused by the table, his gaze locking onto Y/N’s.

“Evening,” he said softly, eyes gleaming.

She cocked her head, forcing a pleasant smile. “Hey there, Norris. In London again?”

He shrugged with forced nonchalance. “Yeah, had some meetings earlier. Thought I’d stick around for the weekend.” It was a lie. He’d finished his obligations days ago, but no one doubted he’d stayed in town solely for her.

Pietra nudged Y/N with a playful smirk. “Glad you two can finally catch up. We’ve barely seen you in the same place these last few weeks.”

Lando lowered himself next to Y/N on the booth’s bench, the cushion sinking beneath his weight. She could practically feel the heat radiating from him. He smelled fresh and warm, a subtle cologne mixed with something distinctly him. “I’m starving,” he announced to no one in particular, though his attention stayed fixed on Y/N. “Hungry?”

She had eaten earlier, but she smiled coyly. “Might nibble on something if it’s good enough,” she teased.

His gaze flickered over her lips as she said the words. “I’ll make sure it’s good,” he murmured, voice dropping lower.

Goosebumps prickled her skin. She had to look away, heart drumming. If there was one thing Lando excelled at, it was firing her up with a single line of flirtation. She tensed her jaw, determined not to let him see just how much she liked that.

As the night wore on, Max and Pietra chatted about their upcoming travel plans. Lando and Y/N lingered at the edge of the conversation, occasionally joining in, but mostly locked in a subtle battle of words and glances.

At one point, Y/N excused herself to go to the bar, deliberately leaving him behind, half-hoping he’d follow. Sure enough, a moment later, a figure slid in beside her, resting an elbow on the wooden counter.

“You’re really not going to sit next to me all night?” Lando asked, feigning a pout.

She shrugged with a lazy grin. “You seemed too eager. Didn’t want to get your hopes up.”

He let out a soft groan, rubbing the back of his neck. “You drive me insane, you know that?”

“Yeah,” she teased. “I’m counting on it.”

He placed a hand on her lower back. Not too low, but enough to make her heart jump. “You’re doing this on purpose,” he accused, though the corners of his mouth lifted in admiration.

She pursed her lips. “I might be.”

He laughed, shaking his head. “Why do you keep saying no?”

“Because…” She trailed off, letting the unspoken tension fill the gap. She could have easily told him she was afraid or uncertain, but that wasn’t the game she was playing tonight. Instead, she flashed a small, almost innocent smile. “Maybe I just like watching you try.”

His expression tightened, eyes flashing with frustration and something hotter. “Then watch me,” he said. “I’m not quitting.”

She gulped, momentarily stunned by the heated timbre in his voice. A flicker of genuine nerves fluttered inside her because she sensed his patience was wearing thin, replaced by a more urgent desire. For all her playful torment, she couldn’t deny a thrill ran through her at the thought of him finally snapping—that the slow burn might become an inferno that neither of them could control.

They returned to the booth, but an hour later, the small party started to disperse. Max and Pietra had an early morning. With warm hugs and goodbyes, they headed out, leaving Y/N and Lando alone amidst the lounge’s dwindling crowd.

He slid closer, draping one arm along the back of the booth. “So… are you gonna run away now?”

She pretended to check her phone. “It’s getting late. I might call it a night soon.”

He exhaled a barely concealed groan. “You always do this. We hang out with friends, you tease me, and then you leave me high and dry.”

“You’re still here, aren’t you?” She batted her eyelashes, an expression of false innocence.

“Barely,” he muttered, raking a hand through his hair. Then he steeled himself. “What if I said I’m done taking no for an answer?”

Her pulse skittered. She arched an eyebrow. “That sounds dangerously close to an ultimatum, Norris.”

He looked straight into her eyes, unwavering. “I want you. You know it. You’ve known it for months. I’m tired of playing the same game where I lose every time.”

Her stomach twisted with both excitement and the faintest tremor of guilt for having strung him along so long. But her desire to keep him on the edge remained strong. “You sound desperate,” she murmured, leaning forward.

His cheeks flared with color, but he didn’t back down. “I am desperate. Do you have any idea how you’ve been driving me crazy?”

She placed a hand delicately on his chest, feeling his heartbeat thunder beneath her palm. “You’re cute when you’re frustrated,” she quipped, pressing just enough to keep him leaning toward her.

He caught her wrist lightly. “And you’re unbelievably gorgeous when you’re tormenting me.” His gaze darkened as he whispered, “Come home with me. Or let me come home with you. Either way, let’s stop pretending we don’t want this.”

For a moment, she was silent. The tension between them was near stifling. Every inch of her body buzzed with anticipation, and she had to swallow hard to steady her voice.

She trailed her fingers up his neck, pausing to toy with the hairs at his nape. “My place,” she whispered. Her heart pounded at the stunned look that crossed his face. “You coming or not?”

He didn’t need to be asked twice.

They left the lounge together, the cool air of the London streets a sharp contrast to the heat that had built between them. Neither spoke much on the walk to her flat—a short distance that felt endless in the taut silence. Lando’s hand found hers, and she didn’t pull away this time. In fact, she threaded her fingers through his, sending a jolt of excitement right through them both.

He followed her inside the building, up two flights of stairs to her door. She fumbled with her keys, her nerves betraying her calm façade. Once inside, she discarded her coat, setting it on a rack by the door.

Lando shut the door behind them. No small talk. No polite questions about whether he wanted a drink. The second they were alone, he crossed the space in two strides, cradling her face with both hands and pressing his lips to hers in a long-awaited, bruising kiss.

A whimper escaped her as she leaned into him, arms sliding around his shoulders. Their mouths moved in a frenzy of pent-up hunger. She could feel his desperation in every breath, every gasp. He’d waited so long for even a taste, and now he devoured her lips, tongue stroking against hers as though trying to claim every inch.

She broke away momentarily, panting. “Hungry?” she teased, voice uneven.

“Starving,” he growled, eyes flickering with a mixture of relief and raw need.

Without warning, he scooped her up around the waist, drawing a startled laugh from her. She hooked her legs around his hips as he backed her up against the wall, ignoring her protest that she could walk just fine. His lips returned to hers, trailing hot kisses along her jaw, down her neck.

“Do you know how many times I’ve imagined this?” he breathed against her throat. “You, in my arms, not running away?”

She shivered, tugging at the collar of his jacket. “And do you know how many times I’ve thought about you losing your composure like this?” She let out a shaky exhale as his teeth grazed her skin. “I love seeing you barely holding it together.”

He groaned. “You really do get off on tormenting me, don’t you?”

She only smiled, unrepentant. “Maybe.”

With an exasperated laugh, he carried her deeper into the flat, pushing open a door until they tumbled into her bedroom. He set her down carefully, but kept her pinned against him, lips still fused.

Clothes became an unwanted barrier. They stripped each other down in hurried, desperate movements, fabric hitting the floor carelessly as they pressed closer. His palms roamed her curves, mapping them with reverence and urgency all at once. She marveled at the firm lines of his shoulders, the warmth radiating from his skin.

He nudged her gently onto the bed, following her down in a tangle of limbs. She let out a soft moan when his lips trailed over her collarbone, pressing open-mouthed kisses that made her toes curl. It was overwhelming, this culmination of half a year’s worth of tease and denial.

His breath hitched as she slipped her fingers through his hair, guiding him up to meet her eyes. “You like to lead me on, but trust me,” he said, voice husky. “Tonight, I’m the one in control.”

She smirked at the newfound edge in his tone. “Prove it.”

That challenge was all he needed. With a low growl, he leaned in, pressing a series of heated, possessive kisses along her throat. “I’m going to make you beg,” he rasped into her ear. “And you won’t be rejecting me this time.”

Her heart stuttered. She’d never seen him this way—intense, almost predatory in the best sense. It ignited a fire in her she hadn’t known existed. “Show me,” she whispered, arching against him.

His hands slid lower, and she gasped at the sensation of his touch, every nerve in her body singing with tension. She tangled her legs around his waist, pulling him closer, fueling the friction that built with every heated breath. The months of frustration erupted into a raw, almost desperate passion, making them both reckless.

Lando’s hands were firm on her hips, his lips trailing down her neck with a slow, deliberate intensity that made her breath hitch. Y/N’s back arched instinctively, her fingers gripping the sheets as he hovered above her, his weight pressing her into the mattress. His eyes were dark, pupils blown wide with desire, but there was a new edge to him—a sharpness that hadn’t been there before.

“You’ve had your fun,” he murmured, his voice low and rough, sending a shiver down her spine. “But now it’s my turn.”

Before she could respond, he captured her lips in a searing kiss, cutting off any protest. His tongue swiped against hers, demanding, claiming, and she felt herself melting into him, her body betraying the control she’d so carefully maintained for months. His hands moved to her wrists, pinning them above her head with ease. She let out a soft whimper, the sound swallowed by his mouth as he deepened the kiss.

When he finally pulled away, she was breathless, her chest rising and falling rapidly. He smirked down at her, his expression a mix of satisfaction and something far more dangerous. “You’ve been teasing me for months, love,” he said, his thumb brushing over her bottom lip. “Do you have any idea what that’s done to me?”

She opened her mouth to respond, but he silenced her with another kiss, this one brief but no less intense. “No,” he said, his voice firm. “You don’t get to talk right now. You don’t get to control this. I’m in charge now.”

Her stomach flipped at the command in his tone, a wave of heat pooling low in her core. She nodded, her eyes wide, and he smiled, a predatory glint in his eyes. “Good girl,” he purred, the words sending a jolt of electricity through her.

His grip on her wrists tightened as he leaned down, his lips brushing against the shell of her ear. "You’ve driven me wild for months,” he murmured, his voice low and rough, sending a shiver down her spine. “Now it’s my turn to make you lose control.” His free hand trailed teasingly down her body, fingers skimming over her ribs, her waist, her hips, making her squirm beneath him. “Stay still,” he commanded, his tone leaving no room for argument. “Or I’ll stop.”

She whimpered, her body trembling with restraint as he continued his slow, deliberate exploration. His hand moved back up her side, fingers brushing the underside of her bra. “So beautiful,” he whispered, his gaze locked on hers as his fingers found the clasp. God, he’s doing this with one hand, she thought, her breath hitching as she watched him. How is this so fucking hot?

With practiced ease, he undid the clasp, the material loosening against her skin. He slid the straps down her arms, his eyes never leaving hers, a smirk playing on his lips as the bra fell away, exposing her breasts. “Fuck,” he groaned, his voice thick with desire. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to get my hands on these.” His palm cupped her breast, his fingers fitting perfectly around the soft curve. He squeezed gently at first, then more possessively, his grip firm as his thumb brushed over her nipple, drawing a sharp gasp from her.

He unpinned her wrists, but she didn’t move, as if waiting for permission. He didn’t give her any, too focused on her breasts, his hands now free to explore every inch. He cupped them both, his fingers sinking into the soft flesh as he squeezed them together, his eyes filled with hunger. “Fuck, baby, they fit perfectly in my hands,” he said, his voice rough. “Like they were made for me to touch.”

He leaned down, his lips hovering just above her skin. “They’re even better than I imagined,” he murmured, his breath hot against her as he took one nipple into his mouth, sucking gently before flicking his tongue over the sensitive peak. She gasped, her hands finally finding his hair, fingers tangling in the soft strands as he lavished attention on her breasts, alternating between them with a slow, deliberate rhythm.

His mouth was relentless, kissing, licking, and sucking as if he couldn’t get enough. “God, baby, they’re so soft,” he groaned against her skin, his voice trembling with need. “So fucking perfect. I could spend hours right here.” He buried his face between them, his hands still kneading her breasts, squeezing them together as he pressed hot, open-mouthed kisses to her skin.

She arched into his touch, her breath coming in short, uneven gasps as he worshipped her body. Every flick of his tongue, every squeeze of his hands sent shockwaves of pleasure through her, and she couldn’t help but moan his name. “Lando…”

He looked up at her, his lips swollen, his eyes burning with desire. “You’re mine now,” he said, his voice low and possessive. “And I’m going to make sure you never forget it.”

She nodded, her body trembling with anticipation as he returned to her breasts, his hands and mouth working in perfect harmony to drive her wild. She’d never felt so wanted, so completely claimed, and she loved every second of it.

Lando’s lips left her breasts with one last, lingering kiss, and she whimpered at the loss of contact. But he wasn’t done—not even close. His mouth trailed down her body, leaving a scorching path of kisses along her skin. He kissed the curve of her ribs, the dip of her stomach, each press of his lips deliberate, maddeningly slow. Every inch of her felt like it was on fire, and she could barely keep herself still as he moved lower, his lips brushing the top of her hip bone.

Her breath hitched as he reached the hem of her underwear, his hands skimming over the fabric as if he were memorizing every curve. “So soft,” he murmured, his voice low and rough, sending shivers through her. He kissed just above the waistband, his breath hot against her skin, and she let out a desperate whimper. “Patience, sweetheart,” he said, smirking up at her. “You made me wait for months. You can wait a little longer.”

She groaned, her hips lifting off the bed as if begging for him to touch her where she needed it most. But he didn’t. Instead, his lips moved to her inner thighs, kissing and nipping at the sensitive skin there. His hands gripped her thighs, spreading her legs wider, and she felt exposed, utterly at his mercy. “Look at you,” he said, his voice dripping with amusement. “So desperate already. What happened to all that teasing confidence, love?”

She could feel the dampness pooling between her legs, her underwear clinging to her in the most embarrassing way. The fabric was soaked, a dark patch spreading across the front, and she knew he could see it, could smell how turned on she was. He kissed her thigh again, his lips brushing so close to where she needed him that she thought she might scream. “Every time you told me no,” he whispered, his breath hot against her skin, “I pictured this exact moment—how I’d have you writhing, begging for me.”

Her cheeks flushed, but she couldn’t deny the truth. She was writhing, her hips moving restlessly as he continued his torment. “Lando, please,” she gasped, her voice trembling with need.

He chuckled darkly, his fingers hooking under the waistband of her underwear. “You’re so wet for me,” he said, his voice thick with desire. “And I’ve barely even touched you properly. How bad do you need it?” She whimpered in response, and he smirked, slowly sliding the soaked fabric down her legs and tossing it aside.

He spread her thighs wide, his hands firm on her hips as he leaned in to inspect her. “Fuck, baby,” he groaned, his voice trembling with awe. “You’re fucking gorgeous.” The evidence of her arousal was impossible to ignore, her pussy glistening, her folds swollen and needy. He kissed her inner thigh again, his lips brushing so close to her clit that she nearly came undone. She gasped, her hips lifting off the bed, but he held her down firmly. “Keep still,” he warned, his voice low and commanding. “Or I’ll stop completely. You wouldn’t want that, would you?”

She shook her head frantically, her hands gripping the sheets as he leaned in, his tongue finally dragging through her folds in one long, slow lick. She moaned, the sound desperate and broken, and he groaned against her. “You’re clenching around nothing,” he murmured, his voice rough. “You poor thing. Maybe I should just leave you like this.”

“No!” she cried, her voice trembling with desperation. “Please, Lando, I need you.”

He smirked, his breath hot against her sensitive skin. “Fuck, you sound so pretty when you beg,” he said, his tone dripping with satisfaction. “Go on, let me hear you.”

She whined, her hips lifting off the bed again, but he pressed her down firmly. “Don’t even think about it,” he said, his grip on her thighs unyielding. “You’re gonna let me see how much you need this.”

And then he dove in, his tongue lapping at her pussy with relentless precision. She cried out, her fingers tangling in his hair as he swirled his tongue around her clit, sucking lightly before pulling back, leaving her trembling on the edge. “Oh, you want to come?” he teased, his voice smug. “After making me wait all this time? Not yet, sweetheart.”

He pinned her hips to the bed, his tongue working her over with slow, maddening strokes. Every time she felt herself close to the edge, he pulled away, leaving her gasping and desperate. “Lando, please,” she begged, her voice breaking.

He chuckled darkly, his breath hot against her skin. “Shh, love. No whining. You teased me for eight months—this is only fair.”

And then he returned to her pussy, his tongue flicking over her clit with just the right amount of pressure to drive her wild. She was close, so close, but he pulled away again, leaving her trembling and desperate, utterly at his mercy.

Lando pulled away from her pussy, leaving her trembling and desperate, her body arched off the bed in search of more. “You’re close, aren’t you?” he murmured, his voice low and teasing. “But you’re not getting off that easy.” He stood, stripping off his boxers in one fluid motion, and her breath caught at the sight of him. His cock was thick, fully erect, and glistening with precum, a testament to how badly he wanted her. She couldn’t help but salivate at the sight, her pussy clenching around nothing, aching for him to fill her.

He climbed back onto the bed, positioning himself between her legs. She instinctively tried to close them, her body trembling with a mix of nerves and anticipation, but he grabbed her thighs, pinning them apart with a firm grip. “No, baby,” he said, his voice dark and commanding. “You don’t get to hide from me anymore. You wanted this. Now take it.”

He aligned himself with her entrance, the tip of his cock pressing against her slick folds, and she whimpered, her hips lifting in a silent plea. But Lando wasn’t rushing. He was going to make this last. He pushed into her slowly, inch by torturous inch, his eyes locked on hers as he stretched her open. She gasped, her back arching off the bed as he filled her, the sensation overwhelming and euphoric all at once. “Fuck, baby, you’re so tight,” he groaned, his voice rough with desire. “Feel that? That’s me, stretching you open, making you mine.”

He bottomed out, his hips flush against hers, and paused, letting her adjust to the sheer size of him. Her pussy fluttered around his cock, gripping him like a vice, and he groaned, his head falling back in ecstasy. “You feel that?” he whispered, his voice trembling. “How you’re wrapped around me? This is where you belong now—taking every fucking inch of me.”

Y/N was already a mess, her hands gripping the sheets as she struggled to stay still. Her body was on fire, every nerve alight with sensation, and she could feel every ridge, every vein of his cock as he moved inside her. It was too much and not enough all at once. “Lando, please—please move faster,” she begged, her voice breaking.

But he just smirked, his grip on her thighs tightening. “Oh, no, love. I decide how you take me,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. He pulled out almost completely, then pushed back in with the same slow, deliberate pace, drawing a desperate whimper from her. “You’re doing this to punish me, aren’t you?” she gasped, her nails digging into his shoulders.

He laughed, a low rumble in his chest. “Maybe I am,” he admitted, his eyes filled with satisfaction. “You made me wait for months, love. Now it’s your turn to suffer.” He thrust into her again, deep and slow, his hips rolling in a way that had her toes curling. Her pussy throbbed around him, each movement sending shockwaves of pleasure through her, but it wasn’t enough. She needed more. She needed him to go harder, faster, to give her the release she was hovering on the edge of. “Lando, I swear to god, if you don’t move faster—” she started, but her words were cut off by a moan as he slammed into her again, hitting a spot that made her see stars.

Her pussy was soaking wet, the slickness making every thrust smoother, every movement more intense. For Lando, the sensation was indescribable. Her walls clenched around him like a fist, hot and tight, and every time he pushed into her, he felt like he was losing his mind. She was perfect, perfect, and the way she moaned his name only drove him wild. “You love the way I fill you up, don’t you?” he growled, his voice low and possessive. “Look at you—already so fucking wrecked.”

She nodded frantically, her hips lifting to meet his, but he stopped her, his hands gripping her waist to keep her still. “No, love,” he said, his tone firm. “You stay right there and take it. Don’t move.” She whined, her body trembling beneath him, but she obeyed, her hands gripping the sheets as he continued to fuck her with the same slow, maddening pace. “Stop holding back,” she gasped, her voice trembling. “You’ve wanted this for months, so take me.”

He chuckled, leaning down to capture her lips in a searing kiss. “Oh, I’m taking you, sweetheart,” he murmured against her mouth. “Every. Single. Inch.” Each word was punctuated by a deep, controlled thrust, and she moaned, her body writhing beneath him. But he kept her still, his hands firm on her hips, his pace unrelenting. “Fuck, Lando,” she whimpered, her voice breaking. “I’m begging—please, just give it to me.”

He smirked, his eyes filled with satisfaction. “Maybe I will,” he said, his voice teasing. “But not until I’m done with you.” He shifted slightly, angling his hips so that each thrust brushed against her clit, and she cried out, her body trembling on the edge. “That’s it, love,” he whispered, his voice rough. “Let me ruin you properly.”

His cock felt like heaven inside her, stretching her open in the most delicious way, and she could feel every inch of him as he moved, slow and deep, his pace maddeningly controlled. For him, the sensation was almost too much. Her pussy was so tight, so wet, and every time she clenched around him, he felt like he was going to lose it. But he wasn’t going to give in—not yet. He was going to make her suffer, just like she’d made him. “You’re mine now,” he growled, his voice low and possessive. “And I’m going to make sure you never forget it.”

She moaned, her body trembling beneath him, her pussy gripping him tighter with each thrust. She was close, so close, but he wasn’t going to let her come—not yet. He was going to draw this out, make her beg for it, make her feel every second of the torment she’d put him through. “Say it,” he demanded, his voice dark. “Say you love the way I fuck you.”

She hesitated, her eyes fluttering shut as another wave of pleasure crashed over her, but he tightened his grip on her jaw, forcing her to look at him. “Say it properly,” he growled, his voice leaving no room for argument. “Or I stop right now.” She whimpered, her body trembling beneath him, and finally, she said it, her voice trembling with need. “I… I love the way you fuck me.”

He smirked, satisfaction gleaming in his eyes. “Good girl,” he purred, leaning down to capture her lips in a searing kiss. “Now let me show you how much I’ve wanted this.” And with that, he finally picked up the pace, his thrusts deep and relentless, driving her closer and closer to the edge. She was a mess, her body writhing beneath him, her moans filling the room as he fucked her exactly how he’d promised—deep, slow, and completely in control.

And she loved every second of it.

Lando’s hands moved to her hips, his grip firm and unyielding as he lifted her effortlessly, flipping her in one fluid motion. Her breath caught in her throat as she found herself straddling him, his cock still buried deep inside her. Her tits bounced with the sudden movement, and he didn’t miss the opportunity, his hands immediately reaching up to cup them, his fingers sinking into the soft flesh as he squeezed possessively. “Fuck, you’re perfect,” he growled, his voice thick with desire. “Now let me see you ride me, but don’t you dare move faster than I let you.”

His hands were like iron, gripping her hips and holding her steady as he thrust up into her, his cock sliding in and out of her slick pussy with maddening precision. She tried to lift herself, to take control of the rhythm, but he held her down firmly, making her take every inch of him at his pace. “No, love,” he said, his voice dark and commanding. “You don’t get to set the pace. I do. And I want to take my time with you.”

His fingers dug into her flesh, holding her in place as he fucked up into her, his hips driving with a steady, relentless rhythm. Every thrust made her pussy clench around him, her body trembling with the effort of staying still. “Lando, please,” she begged, her voice trembling. “Let me move.” She could feel every inch of his cock inside her, stretching her open, filling her in the most delicious way. The sheer size of him was overwhelming, and she could feel every ridge, every vein as he slid in and out of her. “Fuck, baby, you’re so tight,” he groaned, his hands holding her down as he thrust into her again, deeper this time, hitting a spot that made her see stars.

“God, you feel so good,” she moaned, her head falling back as he continued to fuck her, his hands gripping her hips, controlling every movement. “Fuckin’ perfect around me,” he growled, his voice rough. “You take me so well, like you were made for me.” She could feel his cock twitching inside her, his control slipping just slightly, the hot, hard length of him pressing against her walls, stretching her in the most exquisite way. Every thrust sent waves of pleasure crashing through her, her pussy clinging to him like a vice, greedy for more. But Lando wasn’t rushing. He was going to make this last. Every movement was deliberate, controlled, and it was driving her mad.

“Look at you,” he said, his voice low and teasing. “Trying to squirm away. You’re not going anywhere, love.” His hands gripped her tighter, holding her down as his cock plunged deeper into her, every thrust hitting that perfect spot that made her moan his name. Fuck, he’s so big, she thought, her body trembling on top of him. She could feel every inch of him inside her, stretching her, filling her, and she loved it. His cock was thick, hot, and hard, and every time he thrust into her, she felt like she was losing her mind. Her pussy was so wet, so slick, and every movement felt like pure bliss. She could feel the way her walls clenched around him, gripping him tight, and she knew he could feel it too.

“Stay still,” he commanded, his voice leaving no room for argument. “You’re going to let me use you exactly how I want.” His hands were like iron, gripping her hips and holding her steady as he thrust up into her, his cock sliding in and out of her slick pussy with maddening precision. She tried to lift herself, to take control of the rhythm, but he held her down firmly, making her take every inch of him at his pace. “No running, no hiding,” he growled, his voice dark and possessive. “You wanted to tease me for months? Now you’re going to feel what that did to me.”

Her pussy was on fire, every nerve in her body alight with sensation as he continued to fuck her, his hands gripping her hips, controlling every movement. She could feel his cock twitching inside her, his control slipping just slightly, the hot, hard length of him pressing against her walls, stretching her in the most exquisite way. Every thrust sent waves of pleasure crashing through her, her pussy clinging to him like a fist, greedy for more. But Lando wasn’t rushing. He was going to make this last. Every movement was deliberate, controlled, and it was driving her mad.

“You’re mine now,” he whispered, his voice low and possessive. “And I’m going to make sure you never forget it.” His hands gripped her tighter, holding her down as his cock plunged deeper into her, every thrust hitting that perfect spot that made her moan his name. She could feel every inch of him inside her, stretching her, filling her, and she loved it. Her pussy was so wet, so slick, and every movement felt like pure bliss. She could feel the way her walls clenched around him, gripping him tight, and she knew he could feel it too.

“You like this, don’t you?” he teased, his voice smug, the satisfaction evident in his tone. “You like me holding you down, making you take every inch.” He kept his pace steady, his hands holding her in place, not letting her move as he fucked her exactly how he wanted. She was a moaning mess, her hips lifting slightly, trying to meet his thrusts, but he wasn’t giving her an inch. His hands tightened on her hips, holding her down, making her take everything he gave her. “Fuck, baby, you’re so tight,” he groaned, his voice rough. “You’re going to take everything I give you, and you’re going to love every fucking second of it.”

“Lando, please,” she begged, her voice trembling with need. “I need more. Please.” His hands gripped her tighter, his fingers digging into her flesh as he thrust into her again, deeper, harder, hitting that perfect spot that made her cry out. “Beg me properly,” he said, his voice dark. “Show me how much you need it.” She bit her lip, her body trembling beneath him, and finally, she said it, her voice trembling with need. “Please, Lando. Please fuck me harder. I need it. Please.”

"Good girl," he purred, his fingers threading into her hair as he guided her head down, tilting her face down to meet his. Then, he captured her lips in a searing kiss, possessive and deep.

“Now let me show you how much I’ve wanted this.” With a growl, Lando flipped her onto her back again in one fluid motion, his cock still buried deep inside her. His hands gripped her thighs, spreading her legs wide as he loomed over her, his eyes blazing with hunger. He didn’t give her a moment to adjust before he started fucking her again—hard, fast, and without mercy. His hips driving into her with a savage rhythm, his cock slamming into her pussy with such force that the bed shook beneath them.

His cock was thick, rigid, and unyielding, every vein pulsing with the sheer intensity of his arousal. It was hot, almost searing, as it stretched her open, the girth of it filling her to the brim. Every thrust sent a jolt of pleasure through her, the friction of his cock sliding in and out of her slick walls making her toes curl. Her pussy was so tight, so wet, and every time he pushed into her, she could feel every inch of him—the way he stretched her, the way he filled her completely, the way he hit that spot deep inside that made her see stars.

“Fuck, baby, you’re so tight,” he groaned, his voice rough with desire. “Feel that? That’s me, fucking you just the way I’ve wanted to for months.” His hands moved to her hips, gripping her hard enough to leave marks as he pulled her down onto his cock with every thrust. “You take me so fucking well, love. Like you were made for me.” His words were low and possessive, dripping with a primal need that sent shivers down her spine.

She could feel his cock twitching inside her, the hot, hard length of him pressing against her walls, stretching her in the most exquisite way. Every time he thrust into her, she felt a wave of pleasure crash over her, her pussy clenching around him, desperate for more. “Lando, please,” she gasped, her voice trembling with need. “I need you. Don’t stop.”

He smirked, his eyes filled with satisfaction. “You think I’d stop now?” he growled, his hips slamming into her with even more force. “Not a fucking chance, love.” His cock was relentless, pumping into her with a rhythm that was both punishing and euphoric. She could feel the way her walls clung to him, gripping him tight, as if begging him never to leave. “You’re mine now,” he whispered, his voice low and possessive. “And I’m going to make sure you never forget it.”

Her body was on fire, every nerve alight with sensation as he continued to fuck her with a ferocity that left her breathless. She could feel the tension building inside her, coiling tighter and tighter with every thrust. “Lando, I’m close,” she whimpered, her voice breaking. “Please, let me come.”

He leaned down, his lips brushing against her ear. “Go ahead, baby,” he whispered, his voice dark and teasing. “Come for me. Let me feel you.” His hands moved to her breasts, squeezing them roughly as he continued to thrust into her, his cock hitting that spot deep inside her that made her see stars.

She couldn’t hold back any longer. Her body convulsed as the orgasm ripped through her, her pussy clamping down on his cock as waves of pleasure crashed over her. She cried out, her voice trembling with ecstasy as she came apart beneath him.

Lando groaned, his thrusts becoming erratic as he felt her walls clench around him, milking his cock for every drop. “Fuck, baby, you’re so fucking tight,” he growled, his voice rough with need. “I can’t hold back anymore.” With a final, deep thrust, he buried himself inside her, his cock pulsing as he came, filling her with his release. The sensation was overwhelming, the heat of his cum spilling deep inside her, marking her as his.

They came together, their bodies trembling with the force of their orgasms. She could feel every pulse of his cock inside her, the way his cum filled her, the way his body shuddered with pleasure. It was intoxicating, the way they fit together, the way they moved as one. “Fuck, baby,” he murmured, his voice trembling. “That was… fucking incredible.”

She could barely speak, her body still trembling with the aftershocks of her orgasm. Her pussy felt so full, so satisfied, and she could still feel the way his cock twitched inside her, as if he wasn’t ready to pull away just yet. “Lando,” she whispered, her voice soft and trembling. “That was… I’ve never felt anything like that.”

He smiled, leaning down to kiss her softly. “I told you I’d make you mine,” he murmured, his voice low and possessive. “And I meant it.” He stayed inside her, their bodies still connected, as they caught their breath together. The room was quiet except for the sound of their breathing, the air thick with the scent of their passion. And in that moment, she knew she was his—completely and utterly his.

They lay entangled in the aftermath, the sheets tangled around sweat-slick skin. The room was quiet save for their ragged breathing. After a moment, Lando turned to gaze at her, still looking slightly astonished. “You’re real,” he murmured. “I’ve waited so long to have you here, like this.”

She let out a shaky laugh, her hand resting on his chest. “Didn’t think I’d give in, did you?”

He brushed a thumb over her lower lip. “I hoped you would. No matter how much you pushed me away, I couldn’t imagine stopping.”

She met his eyes. “Why?”

“Because you’re everything.” His voice was soft, laced with sincerity. “I haven’t been able to get you out of my head for months. I can’t even remember what it was like not wanting you.”

Her cheeks warmed, and she allowed herself a rare moment of honesty. “You made it hard for me, you know,” she admitted quietly. “Staying away when you’re so… persistent.”

He exhaled a quiet chuckle, clearly remembering every time she’d laughed off his attempts or walked away. “You’re a damn expert at playing hard to get, though. You had me by the throat. I was basically begging.”

She smirked, eyes gleaming in the low light. “Still are,” she teased gently. “You’ll keep begging for more, right?”

His laugh turned into a low, contented hum. “Oh, definitely. But don’t worry.” He shifted, rolling partly on top of her again, the warmth of his body reminding her just how good it felt. “I’m not letting you slip away this time.”

She didn’t resist as he captured her lips once more. The tension was different now—still electric, but edged with relief. They no longer had to pretend or play a cat-and-mouse game. The slow burn had finally exploded into a full-blown blaze, and there was no going back to careful distance.

Eventually, they drifted into a comfortable silence, bodies exhausted from the release of so many months of pent-up desire. She nestled into the crook of his arm, listening to the steady thump of his heart. Lando, seemingly unable to stop touching her, lazily traced patterns on her arm with his fingertips. Each brush of his skin still sent a small thrill through her, a reminder of what had finally happened between them.

In a half-drowsy state, she heard him murmur, “I can’t believe this is real.”

She let out a soft laugh, pressing her face into his shoulder. “I guess I teased you long enough.”

He sighed contentedly. “Too long,” he teased back, though his tone was affectionate. “But it’s worth it. You’re worth it.”

Warmth spread through her at his words. She pressed a kiss to his collarbone, ignoring the tiny voice inside her that warned of complexities and future uncertainties. For now, all that mattered was that the months of dancing around each other had led them here, to a tangled bed in a London flat, hearts still racing from the aftershock of passion.

The game they’d played was over, the final move sealing a mutual surrender. But as she looked up and met his eyes, she realized something else: a new chapter had begun. One where neither of them had to hide their attraction or maintain a careful distance. One where he didn’t have to pine and she didn’t have to tease—unless, of course, they both wanted to for the fun of it.

She gave him a sly smile. “I’m guessing you don’t regret staying in London this weekend.”

His quiet laugh rumbled in his chest. “Not even a little bit.” Then he leaned in, brushing his lips to her ear. “But don’t think I’m done yet. After all these months? We’ve only just started.”

Her breath caught, a new wave of heat coursing through her. “So show me,” she whispered.

He didn’t hesitate. With a wicked grin, he drew her closer, tangling their limbs again under the dim glow of early morning light. Their laughter faded into soft groans and murmured confessions, and everything else—every worry, every reason she’d ever had to say no—melted away.

In that moment, the only thing that mattered was the closeness they’d finally earned, and the thrilling promise that this was just the beginning.

[eraserbread]

satoru gets nanami drunk after an especially long mission, and leaves u to deal with his neediness :(( poor baby

➽─────────────────────────────❥

nanami comes back home and you're laying on your side in bed, asleep, but jolted awake at the sound of the distant front door. the nightstand clock tells you it's a few minutes to midnight, and nanami always clocked out at 6.

typically.

he doesn't hesitate finding his way to you, understanding that if you're not waiting up for him, you'd be asleep. and, he was right. except, you're sitting up, blinking sleep away when he pushes open the door.

you can tell he's not all there - it takes him a second to catch his footing and notice you watching him.

"you weren't waitin' for me." he's slurring his words ever so slightly, letting them melt into each other. "what's wrong with you?"

"nothing." you whisper, giving him your sweetest, softest tone. "come on and come to bed, baby." you nod him forward, not like he could see you well with the lights on. you really didn't want to get out of bed - already wrapped nicely in your sleep clothes and content where you are.

seems kento has other ideas. he flicks on the light and leaves you to bear the harshness. you cover a palm over your eyes, hissing under your breath.

"really?" you whine, rubbing the assault from your droopy lids as he walks to the bed.

"somethin' wrong?"

you bite your lip, wanting to tell him to fuck off but extremely wary. you don't think he's been in such a state in... years, now that you're thinking about it.

"you weren't there... so i gotta- i have to take this off all myself."

you squint trying to make out what he's saying, but he's trying to toe off his shoes, stumbling in the process but catching himself pretty quickly. tomorrow, you'd scold him to hell for tracking them into your bedroom. tonight, you don't care. you just want him next to you.

but, it is annoying being woken up and forced to watch kento try and take off his shoes. "just take your shoes off and come to bed."

"did i tell you, that soup you made last night... fantastic." he mutters lazily, slipping into bed with his shoes still on. if he was sober, he'd see your eye twitch manically. he's so fucking stubborn.

but, he's being sweet ...kinda? right now, so you swallow that irritation and lean into him. like always, you start at the button at his neck, flicking it loose and moving down to his tie. it's been loosened already, making it easier to pull and slide off. under your busy fingers, nanami lays back on his propped arm, eyes shut.

so spoiled...

"shoes, ken." you so helpfully, sweetly remind him. to no fucking avail. instead, he leans into your exposed collarbone and starts kissing you. it's a specific kiss - a kiss that means 'this won't end anytime soon'

though you roll your eyes, you let him. your body is so fucking used to this, now, that all it takes is his shaky hand on your thigh to get you going.

and, you're going. you crane your neck for him, swallowing down want as his clumsy lips take to you like a cat drinking milk. he's stuck there -- fixated and happy lapping little love marks into your skin with a hand fiddling at the crotch of his work pants. he's restrained by a belt, two buttons, and a zipper, and his drunken state couldn't fathom undoing it all.

the first moan you give him has him pulling away, blinking up at you with reddened eyes.

so, he looks at you and asks - no, tells you. "help?"

and you fold.

his shoes still on and all, you climb over his lap, scooting down just enough to tug and pull at his belt. you're sitting just under his beaming erection, giving it a little push when you pull open his zipper. under you, he's covering his red face with his hand, moaning from your touch and presence alone. it's obscene - uncharacteristic. you love it.

"so pretty... pretty n soft... pretty, too. can't look at you or I'll wet my pants."

"you're crazy," you mumble, pulling his arm from his face and bringing it to yours to slip his finger between your lips. he gets the hint, taking control of his arm as he strokes over your chin, letting your fingers work your silk shirt away around your back.

he's dragging across the jagged edge of your teeth, pressing into your canines just to feel a bit of pain. if he opened his eyes, he'd short circuit, luckily he opens them as soon as you're dropping your shirt. then, you're showing all of you to all of him, and he can't do anything else but slap another hand over his eyes, whining dejectedly and blushed to the core.

"kento, look at me," you deadpan, tired enough to just roll over and sleep, but intrigued enough to keep pushing him.

"so hot."

you claw at his thick hand, nearly begging for his eyes to take you hostage. "hey."

"please... suck it..." he mutters, then stuffs his teeth with his fist, seething out sharp breaths as your fingertips find his skin just over his waistband. the request takes you back.

"you stopped when we got married... always wanted to ask you why but... please..."

you don't speak, you can feel more wet words on his tongue that you know he wants to say.

"please, baby girl... please, doll... the second I wake up 'm gonna buy you that silver necklace with my initial you've been wantin'... or I've been wantin' for you. just kiss 'm, please. so good..."

you have no idea what's he's going on about, but you like the sound of it. you like the sound of your nicknames twirling off his smooth, drunken tongue. so, you lean down to kiss them away, tasting the tang of drink on his supple skin.

he kisses you back just as eagerly, groping your chest in his hand as if it'd bring him down to earth again.

"i stopped because i don't think i'm very good at it." you laugh, taking it upon yourself to sit up and tug his briefs down past his hips. he's a mess - work clothes falling off the bone and you all over his face. he tastes like your chapstick now, and you catch little kitten licks poking from his lips just to study it.

"just kiss him like you're kissin' me."

then, you grab the base of his flushed cock, and he arches his back, a dramatic, uneasy 'ah-' coming from his throat. that really takes you aback - you've never heard such a noise come from your insanely composed spouse.

"don't... give it pronouns, weirdo."

"well, 's not a she."

and for the first time ever, you find yourself pressing your palm to his lips to shut him up. then, kissing over your knuckles, you watch his striking hazel eyes shiver and fall shut. you're so fucking in love it's crazy.

then you give him what he wants.

even though it feels unfamiliar, you drop your head, fist working his happy, dripping erection into oblivion as he whines and cries for you. it's when your lips kiss over the head, focusing your tongue in the slight dip, he cums. all over your face.

you're definitely taken aback, letting him have his moment, but you're so flushed and kinda agitated, yet always in love with him. he's a shaking, crying mess -- actually, crying tears. it's absurd. you'd remember this moment long after you've died.

even covered in cum, he still pulls you back, attacking your lips in a hot kiss you're not prepared for. seems like that release has him coming back to himself, because the grip he has on the back of your neck is not nice. you wouldn't be surprised, and you wouldn't mind, if you saw a bruise there in the morning.

when he comes to his senses, he pins you down face first into the mattress, kissing all over your neck and back as he fucks you lazily. he's so slow, it's serene. you can feel every dip of his cock, every vein as it drags against your sensitive, spasming walls. you both are so wet, begging for more, begging for each other.

it's how he makes you cum for him, with his sloppy, lazy ass thrusts and the wet kisses he leaves on your stained skin. there's cum drenched in these bedsheets, and if you weren't so fucked out and tired, you'd kick him out and call him inconsiderate.

tonight, you don't care. you fall asleep tucked under your man, barely able to breathe, let alone move. he'd suffocate you, at this rate.

but,

you don't care...

read part 2? <3

[melinaforfun]

First kiss ❤️

[madamechrissy]

It Started out with a Kiss

Pairings: Shoko x F!reader/Gojo x F!reader/Geto x F!reader (reader fking em all aha)

MDNI- Explicit- PWP tbh, just a filthy ass foursome bc IDK- I need Shoko so here- oral (m and f recieving) f/f play, m/f play, foursome dynamics, reverse cowgirl, Satoru says 'yes mommy' for reasons, lots of kissing (esp w/Shoko) cum swapping etc, if you're here for plot there is NONE.

It started off as an innocent kiss, you and Shoko had far too much vodka shots, and ended up making out right in front of Suguru and Satoru, your roommates. The four of you have been friends since high school, now in your early twenties, still as close as ever, despite the occasional arguments.

Satoru loves to eat every ho-ho in sight.

Suguru loves to smoke skunk weed all over the house.

But you and Shoko are two peas in a pod, though tonight, her tongue is lapping against yours, her soft hands pulling you against him, you taste a hint of her cigarettes mixed with the vodka from the night, as she sighs into your mouth. Satoru and Suguru are watching you both from the couch, enamored then, cocks already pressing against the length of their pants.

"Fuck..." Suguru murmurs, putting out his blunt then, when Shoko eases your jacket right off your shoulders, and you're left in your little outfit, feeling their eyes all on you. Shoko slips your straps down just after that, her honeyed eyes on your breasts as she bends down, pressing kisses to them.

"Mnh!" Comes your little whine, while the men watch Shoko lead you until you're pressed against the wall, pulling a pretty tit out to lap at gently, while your hands entangle in her dark locks.

"Am I super fucked up, or is this happening?" Satoru's voice makes you and Shoko giggle, as she looks back at his bright blue eyes.

"You wanna help, huh?" Shoko asks, and Satoru blushes just a bit, eyeing your bare tit and nodding, you feel your own cheeks heating up then, when he stands so tall, tilting your chin up. "Get on your knees then."

"Shoko!" You're giggling at her as she winks, and Suguru stands then, kissing across the side of her neck, while Satoru brushes his lips on yours for the first time. "You don't have to-"

"Yes Mommy." Satoru says instead, and Suguru chuckles as he watches you both avidly, and Shoko is brushing back Satoru's white locks.

"Good boy, Satoru, let's slip this up." Shoko pulls up your dress, and Satoru pushes your panties to the side, exhaling and making you cry out, just his breath on your pussy is too much. "Taste her, would you?"

Satoru laps a line up your slit, making your hips jerk as he moans softly, licking a plump lower lip. "Yummy."

"Better than those twinkies?" Suguru asks, and Satoru licks you again, tongue exploring your slick walls, nodding.

"Better."

"Let me then, no way." Suguru is on his knees now, as Satoru stands, and Shoko pulls him in for a kiss, lapping your wetness off him, rubbing him over his jeans.

"No, she does taste so good." Shoko says, Suguru's violet eyes watch you under dark lashes, you're trembling while he holds your hips. "You're that hard?"

Satoru just whines out, when Suguru licks you up, tongue hitting your clit with the barbell clicking against it, and you scream out at the sensation, before you realize it, you're riding Satoru's cock in one of your beds, you can't even comprehend whose. You think the room looks like Suguru's, but you're lost in too many sensations, kissing Shoko's pretty lips as she rides Suguru's cock.

"Oh f-fuck... baby..." You hear Satoru whining behind you, you're reverse cowgirl right with Shoko, titties brushing together, while she's rubbing your clit, which drools down her fingers and Satoru's length, and you slip your hand to her breast, gripping it, nipping at her skin as her head falls back.

You watch Suguru's cock slide in and out of her pretty pussy, while Suguru's hand grips your thigh, fingers pressing into your flesh, as Satoru bounces you up and down his cock. He's so thick and long you're closer and closer, with Shoko's finger running in circles. "She's gonna cum, aren't you pretty?" Shoko's whisper ends you, you're nodding, whining out as Satoru's curved tip presses into your cervix.

"M'gonna cum... there, Toru- ah!" Satoru listens, slamming up just so, skin slapping, while your overstimulated clit twitches against Shoko's finger, and you're shattering.

Three pairs of eyes watch as you cum, brown, violet and blue, as the room fills with the wet sounds of everyone together, trembling and weak you're hopping off Satoru's cock, as Shoko sucks your arousal off him, and you're lapping Shoko off Suguru, earning his soft groan, as he pulls your hair. "My god..." He's whispering, when you feel fingers inside you while you're bent over, pressing on your spot, making you moan on Suguru's length.

When you're kissing Suguru and he's slipping inside your already puffy, swollen cunt, the four of you are losing yourselves, everyone is kissing, swapping your and Shoko's juices. It's filthy and wanton, when Satoru's pumping Shoko's pussy and she's lapping Suguru out of your hole, while Suguru holds you in a kiss, hand wrapped around your throat, while you're cumming again and again.

What was last night, you wonder the next morning, as you see your three best friends naked, Shoko's pretty slender form, and Satoru and Suguru's muscles, their... cocks just laid there, still semi hard and sticky, all three of them snoring. You ease out of bed, hearing a little screech from the springs as you do.

Shit, did you fuck all your best friends last night!?

You sigh, head pounding, padding naked to the kitchen, where you start brewing a cup of coffee, sighing happily at how it hits just the spot, when you feel a grip on your waist. You jerk just a bit- Satoru's grinning at you, all sleepy.

"Can you make breakfast pookie, please?" He asks, pouting then, and you sigh, as your other friends step out, yawning and stretching.

"What do you all want?"

"Pancakes!" Of course Satoru wants pancakes.

"Omelettes." Suguru chimes in, pecking a kiss on your head.

"Alright, and what about you, pretty?" You tease, as you brush back her silky locks, and she presses you on the fridge. "What do you want for breakfast, hmm?"

"You."

Just RANDOM smut ahahah - I needed to write something with Shoko I don't see alot of her, dang it. sorry for all the filth lately- I'm clearly ovulating

permtags - @alt--er--love @indiewritesxoxo @nanasukii28 @cuntphoric @loafteaw @n1vi @miizuzu @beachaddict48 @honeybunnnnie @re-tired-succubus @gojosukuna2268 @waterfal-ling @1brii @wise-fangirl @moncher-ire @orikixx @uhnosav @baepsays @designerpvssy @orixxxana @airandyeah @nina-from-317 @evelynxxo @naammiii @soyokosuguru @espresso1patronum @tomboy-disaster @iam-souless @lanii-i @cristy-101 @doeeyestoji  @cvixmei @mutsu422 @g00seg1rl @ivyvenus333 @suki91 @naomi-main @fairygardenprincesss @estrellaexists @theonlyjuggernaut @huntyhuntycunty @lovelockdownff

[angelesca]

a soon-to-be-husband's plan for successful marriage! w.c. ~900

requested by: @kimura-uzuri lots of kisses as per the request, suggestive, all of them are idiots in love and mega pathetic (just how we like 'em amirite) added some extra characters & stretched the prompt, but the core remains the same - hopefully you don't mind :)) (!! written before playing 3.1! only seen some bits and pieces)

anaxagoras's "all according to calculation" love letter!

to my dearest, if you were to reject me, i think i'd cry with my one eye since our fateful encounter, i've found myself... happy agitated, with these bothersome feelings aglaea said it was "love". hah. what does she know?, aroused by, simply, your presence in my orbit. it nags endlessly, claws at my throat when i breathe, these insignicant matters should afford me no pleasure... yet, the heart is no longer a master of itself, desperately wrestling from your grip, but inevitably chained to your smile that is interwoven with my memories. i also cannot forget how you suplexed me after our first kiss my lips spring and curve at an accord of their own when you spare as little as a glance at me. to who else can be ascribed such a feat? congratulations i guess a scholar's instinct is to question in the face of adversity. and questions must be accompanied by answers. as i write this to you, i have finally sumrised the truth. why i feel what i do, i must acknowledge it now... i adore you. i am eternally yours-- i must spend my life with you. ... *unintelligible scribbling*

anaxagoras looks up from his page, staring at you. "did that work?"

work? it didn't even try. "what? what are you- why did you read me a whole love letter? i didn't even know you had it in your bones to write sappy romance."

anaxagoras's eye twitches. he took that to heart. his formula for the perfect proposal is breaking, time to move onto plan b.

you throw your hands on your hips. "what's with you?" kiss. "you just came home after-" kiss. "-being away for so long." kiss. "is something wrong with your head?" kiss. "stop that! it won't distract me from your failure of a proposal."

"tch." anaxa clicks his tongue, slumping defeatedly like a child who got caught red-handed. so much for his perfect plan. well, when all else fails, there's only one final strategy: "well? are we getting engaged?"

you sigh. "you could've said that in the first place..." kiss. "..."

little did you know, that was a display of anaxagoras's restraint. the power of a scholar comes from more than their words, you learned the hard way, sore in bed the next day.

phainon's "super special, totally epic °˖✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧˖°" checklist!

1. i miss my partner so much... (´-ω-`) must return to okhema 2. buy a ring (maybe ask aglaea?) (ugh, i can't let mydei know or he'll tease me) 3. ??? 4. become husband!!! (☆ω☆)

step 1. miss my partner... check. duh. ┐(‘～` )┌ return to okhema? check.

step 2. buy a ring. check. aglaea, with a stifled chuckle, gladly helped the clueless phainon pick out a ring perfect for you. after all, someone who pairs an orange shirt with purple pants could hardly be trusted with picking out an engagement ring. successfully avoided mydei's keen eyes.

step 3. ???

phainon stares at you. "???"

"???" you stare back.

"???????????" phainon took the third step too literally. what is this doofus doing?

realising that his plan is falling apart, phainon panics. "c-c-c-c-can i k-kiss you?" his lips unconsciously push together, pouting, as if practicing his kissing on your ghost.

you frown. "why are you asking like it's our first time doing it?"

"oh, right..."

you playfully roll your eyes. "come here, you."

phainon skips over, brightened, lowering his head for you. you press kisses on them. then, ten more for good measure, because, well, phainon and kisses just go well together, clicking like a puzzle.

"haha, that was nice." phainon's cheeks were red as tomatoes, pressing his hands on them like a youthful maiden in love. then, he latches onto your arm, intertwining. "let's settle down soon. i'm so tired of fighting bad guys all day," he mumbles.

"settle down? like family?" you ask.

"whatever you desire: children, dogs, cats, potted plants. i'm okay with anything you want, as long as you want it," phainon beams. "i just want to start a new life with you!"

beneath all the sweet words, phainon feels that he forgot something integral... something something... become husband... well, whatever. as long as you're happy, phainon can't think of much else when you're calling out his name at night. ( ‾́ ◡ ‾́ ) the neighbours are tired bro...

(days later, you found the engagement ring left in his pocket before taking his clothes for laundry)

mydei's "conquer and overcome all adversities" (is he still talking about proposing?) goal!

1. propose

mydei holds out his hand. "let us form a legal, committal union under a contract."

your jaw drops. mydei had just returned home and these were his first words after being apart for so long? "s-sorry?"

mydei huffs. "you know what i mean."

"you mean a marri-"

COUGH COUGH.

...?

you scrunch your eyebrows. "you want to marr-"

COUGH COUGH.

... mydei is blushing, eyes glossy. how could one word have such an effect? scratch that, how has he made it this far into the relationship? romance was certainly not in the kremnoan dictionary.

you take a deep breath. "mydei, you can just say the word."

"the word."

you sigh. this was too slow. "fine. i agree."

"agree?" mydei looks at you expectantly.

"to establish a legal contract that binds us together."

"oh," mydei smiles. "well, let us make haste." he swings you over his shoulder easily, as if carrying feathers. now, it's going too fast - he really can't set a pace.

"hey! what the-" by the time you realised, you were already at an altar, face-to-face with your husband-to-be. never in your life have you witnessed your body being covered in so many marks the night after the wedding, and your lips were definitely bruised.

you sternly warned mydei, and what is repressed comes back stronger, as he hugged you 24/7, stealing your waist instead of lips. a kremnoan warrior always stays conquering, even when proving his eternal love for you.

a/n: i just found out there are anaxa chibis but its too late im afraid. pea head anaxa for life who's with me also here's some behind the scenes! originally i wrote this for phainon's step 3:

phainon gets on his knees and- oh, oh my god- "PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE-"

"phainon???" his name barely leaves your mouth as a breath, for you can hardly construct words, let alone a sentence.

LMAOOO it was way too much. anw ty again! i had fun writing it! sorry this was kinda short, i wrote this up as quick as i could. but if you'd like me to re-make the request bc it was too silly, lemme know xx

[yuujispinkhair]

ILLICIT AFFAIRS

You show me colors I can't see with anyone else

You are stuck in an unhappy marriage, not brave enough to leave your cheating husband. Until you meet Sukuna.

Pairing: Modern!Sukuna x Reader (female) Word Count: 10k Warnings: 18+, fluff, hurt/comfort, smut, but not explicit, cheating (Reader's husband cheats on her, and later on, she cheats on him with Sukuna). Sukuna is a CEO (or can be read as a Yakuza boss, too). Sukuna + Reader are both in their thirties. The fic title is taken from Taylor Swift's "Illicit Affairs", but in this story, the secret affair has a happy ending. This story is super self-indulgent, but I hope some of my fellow Sukuna lovers will enjoy it, too! Minors don't interact. Divider @./lovwoung

You often ask yourself what went wrong. How did you end up trapped in this unhappy marriage? Maybe you were too young, too inexperienced, too naive when you met your husband. Maybe you were too insecure, convinced no one would ever want you, and so you gratefully settled for the first man who showed interest in dating you.

Your relationship was never like those romances you knew from books or movies, but you assumed that was just how things were in reality. Your mom, your aunt, and everyone else told you how lucky you were to have finally found a man willing to be with you. How lucky to have found someone with a good job and from a good family. They were also the ones who pressured the two of you to get married, and ever since then, things have gone downhill.

Your husband hasn't shown you any love or affection in years. The only time he shows interest in you is when he wants to have sex, but even that is without any real intimacy. He hasn't kissed you in years, and if he did at this point, you would probably be disgusted by it. There is no love in this marriage.

The worst thing is you know he is cheating on you. You already suspected it when he suddenly had to stay at work a lot longer than usual and when he began to hide his phone screen from you. And then one night, you woke up and walked into the kitchen to get a glass of water, and that's when you overheard your husband talking on the phone with some other woman calling her angel and baby and telling her how beautiful she was.

Even though you didn't love him anymore, it still made your world tumble down around you.

You want to leave him, but you can't. Everything is too much, too overwhelming. You have always found it very hard to make decisions, and this one is huge. You have no idea where to go or how to get by on your own. All your savings went into buying this apartment, and now what?

And it's not just the financial aspect that worries you. Everyone has always told you that you would never survive on your own. They always kept you small, turning you into someone who is dependent on others. You got told that you are weird, not good enough, and incapable of ever taking control of your life. And at some point over the years, you started to believe that. Your self-confidence is non-existent.

You tell your mom about the cheating, and she tells you to stay with your husband.

"It's just a little fling. At least you are lucky that he doesn't want to divorce you. It would be such a financial disaster, and you know how you are. You don't do well on your own. Just stay with him and find joy in other things. Maybe pick up a new hobby. I could give you Kira's number. She just joined a nice Yoga class!"

You don't go to the Yoga class, but you also don't leave your husband. You try to pretend everything is fine. Try to gaslight yourself into thinking that maybe you are really just a hysterical, insecure, and overjealous idiot who misinterpreted things.

The months pass, and you catch him flirting on the phone several times. An annual business event is scheduled, which you always accompany him to, but he tells you it got canceled this year. Only to find out from the wife of one of his coworkers that the event took place as usual, but you and your husband simply never showed up. You know why. He didn't want you there. He didn't want to risk his little affair and his wife running into each other.

You've given up on love by now. You hate seeing ads for romance novels or rom-coms. You stop listening to music because most songs are lovesongs. For all you know, romantic love is just a made-up thing that people sing about and write about, but it's all just lies.

Or maybe it does exist in real life. But not for you. Maybe you simply aren't the type of woman who deserves to be loved. Maybe your mom is right, and you should just accept it.

So you stay with your husband, but you are dead inside.

Until you meet Sukuna.

He is everything you ever dreamed about in your secret fantasies that you started to develop to comfort yourself. A dreamed life, but now it's right in front of you, close enough to touch. Sukuna is a real gentleman. An attractive mix of a bad boy and a successful, serious businessman. Smart, confident, and sexy, with a boyish playfulness beneath his professional appearance.

Ironically, you meet him the night you try to save your marriage.

You are already sitting at the table for two you booked for a date in one of the best restaurants in the city. You put on makeup and spend an hour picking a dress in which you feel at least half attractive. And now you sit here, sipping your red wine, waiting for your husband to arrive, to hopefully bond with him again over a delicious dinner and a few hours where you can talk and maybe laugh together.

Only that your husband never shows up. You have already finished your first glass of wine and received several pitiful looks from the waitress when your phone buzzes with a message. It's your husband telling you he can't make it. "Something has come up at work. I don't know when I will be able to leave. Just have dinner without me."

You stare at the message for far too long, not even knowing how to respond. Feeling utterly humiliated, utterly hurt, and abandoned. Worthless. You know he is going to see his girlfriend instead tonight. His girlfriend, who is young and sexy, and can give him what he wants.

And suddenly, you can't hold back the tears anymore. You blink hastily, wiping angrily at your cheeks, trying everything not to ruin your makeup or have a breakdown in the middle of the crowded restaurant. But the waitress chooses that exact moment to walk up to you with an overly bright smile, asking,

"Excuse me, Madam. Would it be alright if someone joins you at your table?"

You look at her, caught off guard, really not wanting a stranger at your table in this horrid moment, but you are too polite to say no, and so you smile weakly back at her, pressing out in a tear-thick voice,

"Of course, I don't mind."

You wipe your eyes again, trying to will the tears away, as a tall man in a fancy-looking black suit and slicked-back pink hair comes into view. He is snapping at the waitress, clearly annoyed, saying something about how rude it is to forget his reservation and that this will have consequences since he is a regular customer, etc.

But he sits down across from you, still fuming as the waitress bows deeply several times, apologizing profusely for the mistake, promising that the man's food and drinks will be free tonight.

He lets out an exasperated sigh and orders a glass of red wine, which the waitress immediately scrambles to get for him.

You gulp hard, trying to regain composure, hoping you don't look as forlorn as you feel. You lift your head to nod at the man across from you, trying to muster up a polite smile because, after all, you have been trained from a young age to always be friendly.

You take him in and draw in a surprised breath. He is gorgeous. The most attractive man you have ever seen. Tall and broad-shouldered with masculine but beautiful features. Angular jawline, intelligent maroon eyes, and sensual lips that are lifted in a smug smirk as he nods back at you,

"Excuse this inconvenience. I will make sure whoever is responsible will get fired."

And, of course, you splutter and are quick to try doing damage control, not wanting some poor person to lose their job over this.

"Oh no, please, it's no problem at all!"

The pink-haired man laughs softly, a low, husky sound that makes your pulse flutter nervously.

He looks intimidating with his tall height and muscular build, and the tattoos that line his handsome face. But he is distinguished and elegant, wearing a designer suit and an expensive watch. Clearly, he is a regular guest of a restaurant like this.

He looks like a successful CEO (or a Yakuza boss, your mind provides not helpful at all). He's definitely someone in a powerful position, judging by his whole appearance and the dominant and confident aura he exudes. But he also has pastel pink hair, a boyish grin, and a playful attitude that makes him seem not as scary as you first thought.

His wine arrives from a different waitress, and he thanks her politely, telling her,

"Put everything the lovely lady across from me orders on my card."

The waitress is quick to bow deeply with a polite, "Of course, Mr. Itadori," at the same moment, as your eyes widen, and you quickly argue,

"Oh no, please, I can't..."

But he smirks his charming smirk and lifts a large hand dismissively,

"It's the least I can do for ruining your evening in much-wanted solitude."

Much wanted solitude.

His words hit you to the core, making all the sadness well up in you again. If only it were true. If only you were truly a single, independent woman who came here after a successful day at work to enjoy dinner on her own in voluntarily chosen solitude.

But you are none of that. You are an abandoned and unloved wife with a boring job and no money, sitting here at a table for two because your husband ditched you to fuck his pretty little assistant in his office.

And suddenly, the tears are back in your eyes, making it hard to see. You quickly avert your shameful gaze, your hand grabbing your wine glass so tightly it almost breaks.

Your sight is blurry, but you can still see the shocked look on the man's face across from you. His eyes dart away from you but then back again, obviously not used to the company of a crying stranger. He clears his throat before he leans slightly across the table, lowering his voice to a soft murmur,

"Are you alright?"

You feel embarrassment flood you, feeling so mortified at your behavior. You wish the ground would just open up and swallow you! This is so typical of you, ruining this stranger's evening, because you don't have your emotions under control and act like a complete fool. It's something your husband would chide you for or make fun of if he saw it.

"I... I am so sorry! Please just ignore me."

You hate how your voice breaks, and before you can suppress it, a pathetic-sounding sob falls from your lips. You press your hands to your face, sobbing silently into them, trying to hide from the world and from the poor guy who's forced to share this table with you.

But then you feel a tentative touch, a warm hand gently brushing over your arm, and you pull your hands from your face, blinking at your table partner, feeling your lips tremble and your face burning, knowing that you must look so ugly right now with your makeup ruined and tears and snot coating your face.

Another apology is already waiting on your tongue, but he shakes his head, and somehow, it's so authoritative but also gentle that your apology dies on your tongue. Instead, you blink at him, as he cocks his head and watches you thoughtfully, that low voice so smooth and soothing when he says,

"Don't apologize."

You nod, trying to smile gratefully at him, but fail miserably as his kind reaction only causes more tears to fall.

He shoves his hand into the pocket of his suit jacket and pulls out a handkerchief. Not a paper tissue, but an actual handkerchief. He offers it to you, and you reach for it automatically, thanking him. But you freeze the moment your hand wraps around the fabric, realizing it's made out of fine silk.

He raises an eyebrow,

"Please, take it."

"But I... I will just ruin it with my makeup..."

He huffs, a soft smirk lifting his lips,

"I don't care. I'll just buy a new one. Take it. I insist."

"Th.. thank you, sir. That's really sweet of you."

His lips twitch,

"You're welcome. And for you, it's Sukuna, not sir."

You sniffle, pressing his handkerchief against your cheeks as you nod and tell him your name.

His smirk softens to a small smile, and he jerks his tattooed chin toward your empty wine glass.

"Do you want another one of those? Looks like you could use it."

You nod as more tears well up in your eyes, and Sukuna snips his fingers, instantly summoning a waiter to your table as if they are all hovering nearby just waiting for Sukuna to voice a wish.

Five minutes later, you have another red wine to hold on to and sip on, which causes a comforting buzz in your head, and suddenly, it all breaks out of you, and you tell Sukuna everything. You tell him about your failed marriage, about how lonely you feel, how unloved. About your cheating husband. About how pathetic you think you are for not daring to leave him because you have never been on your own before and you have no one who has your back.

You cry and sob and take big gulps of the wine while pouring your heart out to this beautiful stranger sitting across from you. This guy who, despite his intimidating look, is surprisingly gentle with you and who doesn't mind that you stain his silken handkerchief with your mascara and lipstick.

Sukuna actually listens to you. He looks earnestly at you, clenches his jaw when you tell him how your husband treats you, and shakes his head when you say under tears how stupid you think you are.

"No, you aren't. Don't blame yourself. It's him. He is the problem. He is the asshole."

Sukuna is the first one who tells you that you deserve better.

You feel an unexpected relief at finally being able to pour your heart out to someone. And just when you get yourself enough under control again to begin feeling embarrassed at your outburst, Sukuna flashes you a smirk and raises an eyebrow, asking,

"Do you want me to get rid of him for you?"

Which makes you forget the embarrassment and instead stare at him with big eyes and hurriedly splutter,

"Oh my god, no! This is not what I..."

You don't get any further because Sukuna begins to laugh, shaking his head slightly as his eyes sparkle amusedly at you.

"Don't worry. I'm just joking."

You huff a breath of relief, followed by a little laugh. Sukuna's comment managed to pull you out of your little moment of regret, and you feel better again, taking another sip from your wine and even managing to eat a few bites of the meal Sukuna ordered for the two of you, claiming that an empty stomach is never good.

Sukuna is nice to you. It's astounding to you because, with the way he looks with those face tattoos and the slightly dangerous aura surrounding him, you would have never thought a man like him could be so nice. It brings more tears to your eyes, feeling too emotional from all the wine. But you use Sukuna's handkerchief to blot them away.

He leaves with you when you say you have to go home, walks around the table, and pulls out your chair like a real gentleman. He offers you his strong arm when you sway lightly on your heels. He helps you into your coat and accompanies you to the exit.

You stand in front of the restaurant on the busy street, but all you see is Sukuna, who stands so close to you that you can smell his cologne, a sensual, woodsy scent that fits him perfectly, smelling expensive and sexy.

He puts a large hand on your tear-stained cheek, cupping it gently, wiping a few fresh tears away, and you take a step closer to him as if drawn in by a magical force, craving this tender touch, even if it's just a stranger touching your cheek in the middle of a busy sidewalk.

Sukuna is so tall and broad, making you feel so safe somehow, and before you can stop yourself, you lean your head against his broad chest, closing your eyes for a moment and sighing longingly. For the first time in so long, you feel as if you can breathe.

You reluctantly take a step back again, tilting your head to smile up at Sukuna, thanking him again for everything he did for you. And he grins at you and leans down, his lips brushing over your ear, while his hand still caresses your cheek,

"You deserve so much better than your asshole of a husband. Don't hesitate to call or text me when you need a break again."

And with that, he presses a gentle kiss to your cheek. It's such a delicate feeling, so soft and gone again in a split second that you aren't sure if it really happened or if you just imagined it, but it fills you with such warmth that it almost hurts.

Sukuna pulls away with a smirk, and you see a business card dangling from his long fingers. You take it from him with a small, grateful smile.

+++

Several days pass, during which you firmly ignore the business card that's still in your purse.

Waking up the next morning after meeting Sukuna made you feel strange. Guilty somehow. As if you had done something wrong. It's ridiculous, of course. Nothing happened between Sukuna and you. And if someone was supposed to feel guilt, it was your husband. And yet you refused to even look at the business card, feeling like you would be doing something bad if you even so much as entertained the idea of adding Sukuna's number to your contacts.

No, you would never contact Sukuna. You would do as your mom had said. Just accept the circumstances of your marriage and create your own happiness. Maybe you should really find a new hobby. Or maybe you could get a pet? A cat or a dog?

For the next few days, you almost manage to convince yourself that you are fine with your life. You keep yourself busy by researching different cat and dog breeds and starting a new TV show.

But then you walk in on your husband flirting with his affair on the phone again, and you see red. This time, you can't stop yourself from confronting him, from snapping at him and screaming at him under tears to stop it.

It leads to nothing, though. He is so unbothered, so smooth, lying through his teeth, downplaying it, claiming she is just a good friend, making you seem like some nutcase who overreacts at every little thing.

You escape to the bedroom, sitting on the bed, staring off into space as tears stream down your face, feeling so helpless in your rage and misery. What are you supposed to do when your cheating partner refuses to admit he is actually cheating on you?

You wish you had the courage to leave him. Or better, you wish he would take the decision from you and leave you so you won't be the one everyone blames for ending this seemingly perfect marriage! And so you won't have to be the one who makes a decision that will change your whole life.

You yank open your nightstand, searching for some paper tissues. And that's when you see Sukuna's handkerchief again, peeking out from under a package of chocolate cookies.

You brush tenderly over the soft, silken fabric. A small smile lifts your lips as your fingers brush over the initials embroidered on it in one corner in a fancy gold thread. S.I.. Itadori Sukuna.

You let out a long breath, wiping your tears away with one hand while the other holds the handkerchief. And suddenly, the clouds seem to disappear as you remember the warmth you felt when Sukuna cupped your cheek and wiped your tears away. And suddenly you know what you want to do.

You jump up and walk to your dresser, pull it open hurriedly, and yank out the purse you had with you in that restaurant. You open it, impatiently emptying its contents over your bed, until you see the business card with Sukuna's contact information.

On any other day, you would overthink things and take an hour to even make up your mind about what to write, but in the state you are in right now, everything seems so clear.

You grab your phone, add Sukuna's contact, and open a new text message. Your fingers seem to do the work without you consciously having to think about it as they quickly type a message:

"Hey. It's your surprise table partner from last Friday. Thank you again for being so nice to me and for your handkerchief."

You feel triumphant as you place your phone down on your nightstand. And then it buzzes, and your heart jumps to your throat. There's a reply.

"I'm glad you finally texted me. You are very welcome. How are you feeling?"

"I am ok. What about you?"

You cringe at your poor small-talk skills, but Sukuna is surprisingly easy to talk to. He tells you about his day, about business meetings, and what he will have for dinner.

There's a strange feeling spreading through your chest. A kind of longing. You crave the feeling of being near Sukuna again. How safe you felt when leaning your head against his chest for a few seconds. How seen you felt when he listened patiently to you and reassured you.

You want to see him again. Want that feeling again.

"I want to give you back your handkerchief. Where can we meet?"

You know you sound weird as fuck, but it's the only way you dare ask him to meet you again.

"I don't want that handkerchief back, sweetheart. But we should meet up anyway. I quite enjoyed your company. How about you join me again for dinner sometime this week?"

Oh.

Your heart is racing uncontrollably, and your hand shakes as you stare at Sukuna's message.

This is it. This is where things become dangerous. You know the right thing to do would be to say no. It's what a married woman should do. But your husband is in the living room, probably sexting his little affair, so why should you be a good wife?

And so you text Sukuna back, letting him know that dinner sounds great.

+++

The dinner with Sukuna is nice. Really nice. You catch yourself feeling so much lighter, your lips lifted in genuine laughter, your eyes shining with happiness as you spend your evening with Sukuna. He is a very charming conversationalist. Cocky, but in such a playful way that it makes you giggle and feel your face get hot from all the joy it brings you to playfully joke around with him and let him tease you in such a charming and light-hearted way.

Your meeting is innocent, nothing that could be counted as cheating. Just a man and a woman who enjoy good food and wine together and chat about everything and nothing. The occasional small touches don't count, right? Like when Sukuna's large hand brushes over the back of your much smaller hand that's resting on the table.

Or when he reaches across the table to cup your chin and wipe some cherry sauce off the corner of your lips with his thumb. But just because his gentle touch makes your skin tingle and your pulse quicken doesn't mean there is anything going on between Sukuna and you!

Sukuna refuses to let you pay, saying it's a delight for him to have you keep him company. And you laugh bashfully and wave him off but feel so giddy. Sukuna offers you his arm when you walk out of the restaurant, and you take it happily, marveling at how tall he is and how safe you feel walking at his side, biting your lip when you wrap your hand around his upper arm and feel his big biceps flex under your palm.

You say good night on the street in front of the restaurant, and before you know what you are doing, you wrap your arms around Sukuna for a light hug. You intend to pull away again immediately, just a quick, friendly hug, but you get stopped by Sukuna's strong arms wrapping around you, holding you firmly, hugging you back, and not letting you go yet.

He rests his chin on your head, and you have the enticing scent of his cologne in your nose again. You feel so warm and comfortable with Sukuna's strong arms around you, his tall, muscular body pressing against you, warm and reassuring. It makes you let out a shaky breath, overcome with feelings, because you can't remember the last time someone hugged you like this.

Sukuna's low voice is a velvety rumble when he says,

"I am on the National Museum's VIP list. There will be a pre-opening event for a new exhibition this coming week. Heian era. It sounds interesting. Would you like to accompany me?"

You lift your head, looking curiously at Sukuna,

"What must one do to get added to the National Museum's VIP list?"

An amused smirk lifts Sukuna's lips, making him look so unfairly handsome,

"Oh, nothing much, just make one or two generous donations every year."

He shrugs, and you laugh, beaming up at him in amusement as you nod,

"I would love to accompany you."

"Sweet. It's settled, then. I'll text you the day and time."

You want to walk to the subway, but Sukuna stops you with a warm hand on your arm, saying he will drive you home. For a moment, you freeze, not knowing what to say. It feels wrong somehow to let another man drive you to the apartment you share with your husband. And maybe you should be cautious and keep a distance and not let Sukuna know exactly where you live.

But you shake yourself out of it. All of those things have been hammered into your brain all of your life, making you anxious and scared and never truly living your life. You are already meeting with Sukuna for dinner and will accompany him to a museum next week. The world won't end if he knows your address!

You smile at him and nod, telling him it would be very nice if he drove you. And Sukuna smiles back, a pleased look in his maroon eyes. He gently steers you towards the parking space with a large hand resting lightly on the small of your back as you stroll down the street.

You catch yourself having a more upright posture than usual, your head lifted, your lips adorned with a soft smile. You feel like the passerbies are all looking at you and Sukuna. Maybe thinking the two of you are a couple on a date, and the thought makes your stomach tingle.

Sukuna's car is a black Porsche. You don't even know why you are surprised. He grins lazily as he opens the door for you and helps you slip into the passenger seat, handing you your purse when you sit and carefully closing the door behind you before he walks around the front of the fancy sports car and gets into the driver's seat.

"Nice car," you say, and Sukuna turns to look at you with a teasing twinkle in his eyes,

"Well, I'm not a nice guy, so at least my car should be."

"Oh, I think you are very nice."

The two of you hold eye contact for a long moment, both pairs of eyes filled with amusement before you burst out giggling, and Sukuna joins you with his low laugh.

+++

You spend the next evenings at home, having dinner with your husband, who is busy with his phone most of the time, making the cold, heavy feeling in your stomach even worse.

Your only joy is the anticipation you feel in looking forward to Wednesday afternoon when you will meet Sukuna at the museum.

He is already waiting when you arrive, leaning casually against a pillar next to the entrance, tall and handsome with his perfectly styled pink hair and his Tom Ford suit. A dark red one this time, which makes his eyes look like red wine.

Sukuna is a beautiful man.

For a moment, you feel a nervous flutter in your chest, but it vanishes again when Sukuna grins at you and greets you with his warm, low voice and a large hand on your back, pulling you into a half hug.

He doesn't even have to say his name when the two of you approach the young man who greets the guests and ticks off their names on the guest list.

"Ah, Mr Itadori! Have fun at the exhibition. And thank you so much for your generous support."

Your hand slips naturally around Sukuna's arm as you stroll through the exhibition. It feels nice to be here. It makes you realize how long it's been since you last visited a museum. Or did any kind of activity, really. Your husband never had time for you during the last few years.

You can tell that Sukuna is genuinely interested in the exhibition. He already seems to be an expert on the topic, adding interesting facts to the already detailed info sheets next to each exhibition piece.

It's an equal amount of endearing and sexy how nerdy he seems to be about this. Attractive. You like smart men. You like it when a man is passionate about learning everything about a topic that interests him. And Sukuna is like that.

You hang on his lips, soaking up his knowledge, feeling way too hot when you watch the sparkle in his maroon eyes as he goes into a passionate monologue about political intrigues during the timeline of one of the exhibition pieces.

And he seems to like that you also show genuine interest in the exhibition and in what he has to say about it. He blesses you with a soft smile that makes your stomach flutter. You feel exhilarated, your heart pounding in your chest, almost bursting with happiness. A long-forgotten feeling emerging again after so many years.

You thank Sukuna profusely for the fun afternoon, and he grins that charming, boyish grin at you and tells you he is grateful that you kept him such lovely company.

This time, there is no doubt about whether he really kisses your cheek or not. His lips linger on your heated skin for a long moment, soft lips pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek before Sukuna smiles at you and cups your other cheek with his hand, his long fingers caressing it slowly.

"Let's meet again for dinner next week, sweetheart."

+++

You pace your living room restlessly.

Your trip to the museum with Sukuna made you realize something. It made you realize what this giddy feeling is that has been filling you ever since you started to meet up with him. That light-hearted, fluttery, happy feeling you get when you see him or even just when you think of him (which is almost every waking second of your day).

You try to shut down those feelings, telling yourself it's dangerous to let someone make you feel so much again. It makes you too vulnerable. It will only lead to more chaos and more hurt.

Why would a man like Sukuna even be interested in anything serious with me? He can probably have anyone. Either he only sees me as a friend, or I am just a little fling to him. I have to stop this before I get in even deeper!

In the coming week, you cancel your dinner with Sukuna by sending him a short text telling him you have a cold. He sends you a get well soon message and asks if you need anything, which you deny, even while you sob silently because Sukuna is so caring, and all you want to do is run into his strong arms and forget about your joyless life.

But you stay strong and put your phone away, forbidding yourself from sending more messages to Sukuna.

Your husband makes a rare attempt to talk to you, and you already know what he wants. After tiptoeing around you for several hours, he asks you for sex. You join him in the dark bedroom, feeling nothing as you slip out of your clothes and climb into bed with him.

You have learned to close your eyes during sex and let your mind wander, imagining all kinds of fictional scenarios to help you feel anything at all. But this time, you don't think of a fictional love interest out of a romance novel or an actor you find attractive. This time, you think of Sukuna.

You feel dirty afterward as you stand under the shower and scrub at your skin. Dirty for thinking of Sukuna while you slept with your husband. But what makes you feel even dirtier is that you still let your cheating husband touch you even though Sukuna is so nice to you. It feels as if you are cheating on both of them.

You cry so much that you feel like you have no tears left.

+++

Even though you haven't met or talked to Sukuna in over a week, he is still constantly on your mind. You are haunted by images of him. That beautiful tattooed face. That sexy low voice and the playful smirk. That tall and muscular body that makes you feel so tiny in comparison and so safe when you are standing in front of him or leaning against him.

You sigh. One would assume that acknowledging that you are developing romantic feelings for Sukuna would make things easier for you. Clearer. But the thing is, even though you know what your heart wants, you are still too scared to end things with your husband. There are too many insecurities. Too many risks and you feel so useless and weak, just like your parents always told you you are.

You feel frozen, unable to make a move. There is this wonderful man who treats you as if you are special and shows you how a man is supposed to make you feel, and yet you lack the courage to get out of your loveless marriage.

You have always been an overthinker, always scared to trust your instincts. Brought up to always be sensible and make decisions with your head and not your heart. So how could you just leave the security of this marriage? Especially when you are trying to convince yourself that Sukuna would never want a relationship anyway.

No, you can't let yourself believe that you could have a future with Sukuna. This is just a stupid dream born out of your naivety, which your parents always warned you about.

And how could you even go about ending things with your husband? Sit him down and tell him it's over? But what then? What do you do when he just refuses to accept it?

Or should you just pack your bag and leave while he is at work, letting him return to an empty apartment and a goodbye letter on the kitchen table? But where would you go? To a hotel? You have no money. To your parents? You would feel so ashamed, and you fear their judgment. To a friend? You don't really have any friends anymore who you are close enough with to ask this of.

You sigh. None of it seems achievable. Not for you. You are too chicken to do any of it.

Your husband informs you that he will be gone for two days for a business trip, and you let out a breath of relief, happy about the freedom you feel when he is away and you have the apartment to yourself.

You open a bottle of wine, listen to your favorite playlist, and dance around the kitchen, almost able to convince yourself that things will be ok and you can just live a life feeling detached from the hurt your marriage causes you.

And then your iPad dies. You groan, quickly walking to the spare room you use as an office to grab your husband's laptop, only to get greeted by his e-mail inbox, where you see a booking confirmation for a romantic couple getaway for the next two days.

You stare at it wide-eyed. And then you sit down in a daze and go through the received and sent e-mails, only discovering more outrageous things. The escort girls your husband booked over the last year, the flowers he ordered for other women, while you never got any flowers from him in all your years married to him. The romantic getaways he booked anytime he claimed to go on business trips.

You can't even cry about it anymore. The sadness is replaced by cold rage. And by a strange feeling of resignation. You know you could show all of this to your mom and finally make her believe what you told her all this time. Finally, presenting her and everyone else with proof of how badly your husband treats you.

But even as you snap pictures of the e-mails, you realize you can't bring yourself to do it. And the infuriating thing about it is that it's not even because it causes you hurt, but because you still want to protect your husband. If you show your mom this, she will confront him and make a huge scene. And you don't want that to happen. Even after everything he did, you still are too much of a good girl to let him face the rage of your mom.

That's why you close the laptop again without doing anything. You make sure to put it back to where you found it.

But a different kind of conviction has settled over you. If your asshole of a husband can go on romantic getaways and sex meetings, you can allow yourself some fun, too, can't you?

It's not even that you plan to have sex when you text Sukuna. You just want to meet him for dinner or another trip to the museum. You just want to talk to him, and laugh with him and soak up the light feeling he gives you.

He calls you instead of texting back. Your heart races when you take the call, and Sukuna's velvety low voice fills your ear,

"I just came home from a big grocery haul. So how about instead of meeting at a restaurant, you come to my apartment, and I cook for you?"

You agree instantly.

+++

Unsurprisingly, Sukuna lives in one of the most expensive neighborhoods of the city. The luxurious apartment complex makes you feel nervous and a bit out of place. But that uneasiness slips from you the moment Sukuna opens his door and greets you with that sexy, teasing smirk and a playful little comment.

It's the first time you see Sukuna dressed casually. And it undeniably does something to you to see him in a pair of gray sweatpants and a rather snug-fitting white t-shirt that clings to his buff pecs and gives you a nice view of his muscular arms and more of his tattoos. You aren't sure what is more mouth-watering, the food that is simmering in one of the pots on Sukuna's stove or his big biceps that flex deliciously with every move.

Sukuna lifts you onto the kitchen counter, easily picking you up and setting you down as if you weigh nothing. A fact that makes you all flustered and sends your pulse racing, making you gratefully grab the wine glass Sukuna is offering you, so you can hide your face behind it and let the alcohol calm your nerves.

No man has ever cooked for you before, and watching Sukuna do it is one of the most attractive things you have ever witnessed. He is so sexy. Passionate and skilled, and still always taking time to playfully flirt with you or ask you to try one of his dishes, feeding you food from a spoon or from his fingers.

There is a special kind of electricity between you tonight. An almost touchable tension that makes your skin tingle anytime Sukuna brushes up against you.

His voice is husky when he tells you what ingredients he uses to marinate the roasted vegetables. And you can't help but let your tongue flick over his fingers when he pushes a slice of roasted zucchini against your lips.

Sukuna groans softly. Your breath hitches in your throat, and you look up at his tattooed face. You are met by a hungry glint in those beautiful maroon eyes that remind you of the wine Sukuna poured for you.

You are caught in Sukuna's intense gaze, unable to look away. Everything else seems to fade away.

And the next thing you know is that Sukuna is kissing you. Or maybe you were the one who pressed her lips against his first. You don't know. All you know is that you are kissing right here in Sukuna's kitchen while you sit on the kitchen counter, and he is standing between your legs. His large hands are cupping your cheeks and tilting your head back, and your hands are twisting in the front of his soft white t-shirt, pulling him closer to you as you sigh needily into his mouth.

Sukuna kisses you like you have never been kissed before. Passionate, fiery. Deep and sensual, making your head spin and your pulse flutter under Sukuna's hands.

You can't get enough of him and wrap your arms and legs around him as if you are scared he will vanish into thin air if you let go of him. You kiss him with a hunger unknown to you until now. Like a starving person being presented with a life-saving meal.

Sukuna's large hands trail down your sides, fingertips grazing over the sides of your breasts, eliciting a needy little whine from you, and further down until they reach your thighs. You are drunk on his kiss, drunk on him, melting under every little touch.

And Sukuna hums in the back of his throat and deepens the kiss even more. His large hands slip under you, cupping your ass, kneading it while he makes you moan around his tongue.

You have always been shy, but there is something about Sukuna and the way he makes you feel that makes you slip a hand under his t-shirt, feeling him up, greedily caressing his flexing abs, feeling dizzy at how good his firm muscles feel under your fingertips.

You both can't seem to stop kissing, both tumbling down further and further into this heated desire. You are faintly aware of Sukuna mumbling against your lips that the sauce needs to simmer for another hour anyway, and then he picks you up and lifts you easily off the kitchen counter while his lips claim yours again.

Sukuna carries you to his bedroom while never breaking the kiss, and you suck on his bottom lip and run your greedy hands through his soft pink hair and down his bulging biceps, wanting him so much that you think you will die if you don't get all of him tonight.

You sleep with Sukuna on his fancy bed, and it's nothing like it was with your husband. It's like you finally learn how sex is supposed to feel with a man who truly wants you.

Sukuna makes you feel wanted and desired, a feeling that is so new to you after all these years caught in a loveless marriage where your husband made you feel undesirable, unattractive, and like you would never be able to find anyone else with how your body looks and how lousy you are in bed.

But with Sukuna, it is completely different. You feel sexy here in his bed with the way he looks at you when he undresses you. And with the way he moans sweet praise in your ear before his lips and hands worship your body.

Sukuna is a real man. Experienced and confident, but so loving and patient with you when you get shy and tell him that you aren't very experienced and that your husband was disappointed in your skills in the bedroom.

At one point, you tense up, thinking Sukuna will get angry like your husband when you are clumsy during sex. But the opposite is the case. Sukuna is calm and gentle, talking to you in that sexy low voice, all soothing and sexy, telling you that it's ok and that you don't have to be scared or embarrassed.

He kisses you until your head spins and then asks you why you got so tense, asks you what you need. And you almost break out in tears, hugging him tightly, hiding your face in his defined pecs, inhaling his scent, and feeling so loved and so safe in his strong arms like never before.

"I just... I have only been with my husband, and he told me I am not good in bed. He always got mad at me when I didn't know how something worked. I am sorry if I am not what you are used to."

And you feel Sukuna's arms tightening around you, feel him tense up. But he isn't angry with you, only with your husband.

"That man is such a fool. Look at me, darling."

You lift your head off his chest and look at his tattooed face when he looks at you all earnestly,

"You are a beautiful woman, sexy and desirable, and I want to fuck you so good you forget your own name. Because that's what you deserve. And you don't have to be experienced or fuck like a pornstar. You are perfect the way you are, and you drive me crazy. And if you don't know how something works and you want to learn it, then I will teach you, and I promise I will be patient and gentle."

You nod wildly, feeling too emotional to speak, and instead press your body against Sukuna's and capture his lips in another needy kiss. You can feel his smile against your lips when he wraps his large hands around your waist and takes control.

Everything is so easy after that. No words are needed. Just hands and lips exploring each other's skin in heated caresses and bodies entangled in feverish passion. You let yourself fall, give yourself fully into Sukuna's loving hands. Let him take care of you like no one has ever done before.

He fucks you so good you cry.

All the years of feeling undesirable and not enough slip off you now that you are in Sukuna's bed under his gorgeous, tall, and heavy body, your nails leaving scratches on his broad back, hot tears of bliss streaming down your cheeks, and his name falling sweetly from your lips over and over again like a prayer.

It's like you are finally alive, like you are a flower that finally blooms after all these years.

+++

That first night in Sukuna's bed changed you profoundly.

You catch yourself smiling all day. There's a new bounce in your steps. You feel so much lighter. Your stomach is filled with butterflies as if you are a teenager again who has her first crush. Your chest feels so warm. You're filled with new hope. Maybe there is more to life and love than you thought, after all.

You feel like, for the first time, someone has really seen you. You weren't aware that sex like this existed in real life. That a man could make you fall apart like that. Sukuna fucked you in a way that was life-changing, making you feel like you gave him not just your body but also your soul.

And as passionate and nasty as the sex with Sukuna was, he made you feel respected the whole time. Adored. That is what makes you lose your mind anytime you think of it. You have been with your husband for so long, and yet even in the beginning, when the feelings were still fresh, he never made you feel adored or loved in bed. You didn't even know it until now, but he only ever made you feel used.

When your husband asks you for sex, you turn him down his time, telling him you aren't in the mood, and you don't even feel guilty for it.

You keep running back into Sukuna's strong arms over and over again. Into his bed, under his heavy body, where you feel loved and wanted. It's like he opened your eyes, and now you can see all those new colors that you only seem to be able to see with him.

+++

Your clandestine meetings continue for weeks. It surprises you to see winter turn into spring, and yet Sukuna is still texting you, inviting you to more dinner dates and to more intimate meetings in his bedroom. You always assumed he would end your little affair before things became too serious.

But somehow, he is still in your life, reserving his Wednesday evenings for you, buying you roses, and taking you to the best restaurants in the city.

One night, you sit up in his bed on the ruffled silk sheets and bite your lip as you let your gaze trail over Sukuna's naked body. His tattooed skin, his buff muscles, his beautiful silhouette. And you blurt out,

"Why do you keep seeing me?"

It's what you have been asking yourself from the start. What does Sukuna see in you? You are mediocre in every way. Average looks, no real talents, and no impressive career. A wife who got neglected by her husband because she wasn't good enough in his eyes. A woman in her thirties, who was replaced by a younger, more attractive version.

Sukuna, on the other hand, is gorgeous, powerful and rich, and his age only makes him more attractive. He could have anyone.

Sukuna hums softly and turns onto his side, lifting his head to watch you with curious maroon eyes.

"What do you mean, darling?"

You avert your gaze, sighing, bringing up your hands in a helpless little gesture,

"I... I mean, you are you, and I am me. And I just don't understand what you see in me."

Now, the noise Sukuna makes sounds a bit like a growl. You feel stupid for saying anything, already about to scramble out of his bed and flee before you make an even bigger fool of yourself. But you don't make it out of bed. Sukuna's strong arms wrap around you and stop you. He pulls you back into his arms and against his solid, broad chest.

"Don't belittle yourself like that. I keep asking to see you because I want to. Because I like spending time with you. You are so sweet. You make me feel so warm when I have always felt so cold."

His words hit you like a truck. You blink rapidly, your eyelashes fluttering against Sukuna's chest.

"R... really?"

He huffs softly, letting out a low chuckle as his large hand pets your hair,

"Yes, really. I used to only have one-night stands or casual flings. Just sex and nothing more. I used to think that was all I needed. But you showed me something different. Hell, I've never spent so much time with a woman before I slept with her for the first time. And I enjoyed every second of it! I like spending time with you to talk and laugh with you and just have this companionship. You make me feel like maybe I am not that cold-hearted asshole I always thought I was."

You gulp hard, tears filling your eyes. But this time, happy ones. You sniffle against Sukuna's naked chest and press a tender kiss to his tattooed skin.

"You are so sweet, Sukuna."

He laughs softly, and you can feel it against your cheek, a low rumble, where your face is resting on his chest,

"You are the first one who told me I am sweet. Are you sure?"

Now, you laugh softly, too. The insecurity you felt a moment ago forgotten,

"Yes, 100% sure. No one has ever treated me as sweet as you."

"It's what you deserve. You are so sweet that I want to be sweet for you, too. And..."

Sukuna's large hands tighten around your hips, and he flips you over. He rolls on top of you, covering you whole with his tall, broad body. His lips find your neck, trailing little kisses over it, his low voice a seductive murmur in your ear,

"You're not just sweet, but also beautiful and sexy, and you make me laugh, and I want to take you places and cook for you and also want to keep you on my cock all night and feel you squeeze around me and hear you cry my name."

Sukuna grinds his hips against you, pushing you into the mattress, taking you with one powerful, deep thrust for the second time tonight. You gasp and cling to his broad shoulders, your legs wrapping around his hips, welcoming him, craving him, needing him.

He takes it slow. Slow, deep thrusts, his forehead resting against yours, his low voice moaning sweet nothings in between deep, sensual kisses.

It's then that you realize that Sukuna is doing what no one else ever did to you. Sukuna is making love to you.

And you cry hot tears, drowning in his love and his body and everything he gives you. Your nails leave scratches on his broad back, your heels dig into his firm ass, as you throw your head back and cry out his name in the sweetest ecstasy.

He holds you afterward, lies behind you, and wraps his tall, strong body around you. He hugs you with his strong arms and nuzzles his face into your neck, breathing kisses onto your skin, not letting go of you, taking care of you, cuddling you. Something you also never had before. A man who is willingly holding you like that for hours after he came in you.

You sigh happily, still in a daze. The occasional tear still runs down your cheek as you snuggle against Sukuna's muscular body, and your hands caress his tattooed forearms tenderly. You never want to leave his arms again. You want to stay right here.

As if reading your mind, Sukuna's low voice murmurs against your skin again,

"I mean it, darling. I like having you in my life. So much that I want you in it all the time."

One of his large hands caresses your belly, so tender, so loving, sending butterflies fluttering in it like crazy. And Sukuna breathes in your ear,

"Be mine."

You draw in a sharp breath and turn around in Sukuna's arms, cupping his face with your hands as you kiss him, long and sweet, and in between kisses, you murmur against his lips,

"I am already yours."

You know it is the truth. Even though you are still married to another man, even though you are still living with your husband, you are Sukuna's woman now. You suspect you have been Sukuna's woman for several months already, long before you allowed yourself to admit it out loud.

+++

Two hours later, you are buttoning up your coat, about to leave Sukuna's apartment and the sweet bliss of his arms and return to your cold, loveless marriage, and your lonely apartment, when Sukuna stops in front of you. He reaches out, wordlessly helping you with the buttons, dominant in such a caring way, and somehow, that small loving gesture makes your lips tremble as you are overcome by emotions.

He is so good to you. Such a giant of a man, so tall and broad and powerful. And yet, he treats you so gently. Large hands buttoning up your coat for you. The hands that also cook Michelin-star-worthy meals for you, or wash your hair in his luxurious bathtub. The hands that make you see stars when they finger you oh so good. The hands that caress your cheek tenderly and brush your tears away with so much care. Hands that give to you over and over again. A hundred little acts of service that this powerful man gives to you.

"Sukuna, I..."

You trail off, not able to put into words what you want to say to him. How much he means to you. How much you want him. How he made you believe in love again. How much you crave to leave your old life behind and start over new with Sukuna even though you are so scared of change.

Before you can say any of it, Sukuna grabs your wrists, takes them firmly but gently into his larger hands, and looks at you intensely.

"Leave that asshole. He doesn't deserve you, princess. If a man can't see what he has in you, then he is trash. Don't be scared. I can take much better care of you than him. I'll fuck you good and make you only cry happy tears. I will appreciate you like you deserve. I will love you like you deserve. I will ensure you always have everything you need. I have money, and I can protect you. Tell me, darling, who would you feel safer with waking through the city in the middle of the night? That joke of a man or me?"

Of course, you know the answer.

"I love you, Sukuna."

"I love you, too."

His strong arms wrap around you and pull you into a hug, and you nuzzle your face into his chest, inhaling the comforting scent of his cologne. And finally, here in the safety of Sukuna's embrace, you say those words you have been too scared to say until now,

"I will leave him. I want to be with you. Only with you, Kuna."

You can hear the smile in Sukuna's voice when he replies,

"I'll help you, sweetheart. I have one of the best lawyers in the whole country. I'll call him tomorrow to prepare the divorce papers. I'll take care of everything for you."

Sukuna cups the back of your head and leans down to kiss your forehead gently, reassuringly. He looks at you with that boyish grin you fell in love with and adds in a playful and husky voice,

"And once all of this is dealt with, I will make you my wife."

He takes your left hand into his, turning it around, inspecting the wedding ring you are still wearing, scrunching his nose at it,

"And I'll give you a much prettier ring."

+++

You let the door fall softly shut behind you one last time as you walk out of the apartment you had been sharing with your husband for over a decade. A smile lifts your lips. You are glad to close this chapter of your life.

You know that a braver woman would have left her husband sooner, would have moved out, or kicked him out the moment she found out he was cheating on her. Maybe even sooner, when she realized she was unhappy in that marriage. But you aren't brave. You have always been full of self-doubts and fears. Too ashamed to crawl back to your parents and admit that you hadn't been strong enough to endure your marriage. Too scared that you would never recover from the financial loss of the divorce. Too insecure to believe you could ever make it on your own.

But now you have Sukuna. And the fall doesn't seem so high anymore. You know Sukuna will catch you in his strong arms. He won't let you crash to the ground.

In the end, you think it doesn't matter how you got out of that unhappy marriage and into this loving relationship. All that matters is that you got a second chance to learn how love is supposed to be.

And it still takes bravery to leave your husband and walk into Sukuna's arms. To close the door of your marriage and open the one that leads to the man who came into your life as an illicit affair but has become your one and only.

OH SUKUNA, I NEED YOU 😭😭💗💗 He really took one look at Reader having her breakdown in that restaurant and was like, "I will steal that woman from that loser and give her what she deserves." Thank you, Kuna baby ;)

Thank you so much if you read the whole thing! This story became much longer than I thought, but the words wouldn't stop flowing out of me because this story made me so happy. I hope it could give some of you the same feeling.

I often see posts/articles that victim-blame the women who don't have the courage to leave an unhappy marriage, so I wanted to write something where Reader isn't a strong, independent woman but someone who needs a little encouragement and lots of love from a man like Kuna before she dares make the decision to leave her husband. She deserves all the happiness!

I hope you enjoyed the story and maybe fell a little in love with this version of Sukuna, too 💗

Comments and reblogs would be very sweet.