#background noise is way too loud

[feralboo-the-weirdo]

So it's come to my attention that consistently not being able to filter background noise might be a symptom of ADHD? But like, people don't hear everything at a super loud volume and have trouble in public conversations because they can't pay attention cause every sound is at the same volume? Like people aren't constantly aware of the sound of the vents or someone drinking water in the kitchen when the sound should be muffled or like of people talking, footsteps, music, people breathing, and like six different conversations going on, cars driving by or pages turning or water running or someone dropping their pen and wondering when they're going to notice and zoning out because all the sounds are too loud but the thing you were doing is super important and you needed to pay attention but now you have to ask everyone who was talking to you to repeat what they said like five times because you couldn't focus the first time?

That's like... not normal?

And like people can play group games that are really competitive without it getting super loud really quickly when your brain is hyper aware of the sounds of every person in the room all at once and you're trying not to breakdown because you don't want to be shunned for not being able to do things normally just because everything is way too loud?

Is this like a symptom? Or is this just a trauma response? it's getting increasingly harder to tell. :(

but like I'm not even aware I'm doing it most of the time.

Well. better just add that to the growing box of "things wrong with my brain that I really should do something about but probably won't"

[ok-ak]

.

[ttsukiimi]

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ F⍣CK HER ‘TILL SHE SORE!

★ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 ⎯ He’s not addicted to your cũnt—he swears. He swears even as he’s forced the fourth ōrgasm out of you tonight; and there’s more to come.

★ 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 ⎯ gojo x fem!reader, toji x fem!reader, choso x fem!reader, nanami x fem!reader, smut (mdni), tit play, multiple örgasms, size difference (choso), slight còckwarming (nanami), reader referred to as (princess, baby, doll, good girl)

✧･ﾟ𝓖. 𝓢 ✧･ﾟ

Gojo didn’t even know how he even initially found himself inside you—it was like one second he was cuddling closer to you as his eyes glued to the tv, then another your leg was hoisted over his waist as he jerked his hips into you repeatedly. Was it his fault? Had he begged you to let him put just the tip in? Yes.

But you had given in, and that in its own was your mistake.

“Stay still, princess, wanna give it to you good,” he whispered in your ear, the way his shaky breath fanned past your neck causing goosebumps to bloom on your skin. You nodded, though it wasn’t a promise, and tried to take each passionate thrust of his girth he gave to you.

You were clutching the couch pillow for dear life, whining as you felt euphoria rock through you so pleasurably for the umpteenth time that night. The movie playing had long been forgotten—only serving as background noise, and to Satoru a nuisance since the sounds drowned out your heavenly moans.

He huffed into the skin of your neck, determined to now make you louder, and a hot slap landed on your left cheek, effectively coaxing a loud yelp from your lips. “Mh—!”

And you were sensitive by then, his seed dripping from your battered cunt, your body shivering and thighs quivering, but even then he was set on urging one last orgasm out of you.

Or two.

Hell, he couldn’t even promise it wouldn’t be three. But he just needed to stay inside of you.

Satoru’s hands came up from behind you before they latched onto your chest, groping your tits as he muttered lewd words in your ear.

“You like when I fucking play with these pretty tits, hm?” He kissed your shoulder, and you felt a smile form against your skin as the only thing you could let out was a weak whine—too drunk on his dick to speak. Satoru groaned at the sound, his lips finding your pulse point as he spoke.

“Always so dumb once I get inside you,”

✧･ﾟ𝓒.𝓚✧･ﾟ

Choso doesn’t have an exact idea of why he loves being buried inside you so much; perhaps it’s the way you sound, the way you feel, or the way you look—tears in your eyes and all—but he does know that he’d die happy if that meant he was inside you in his last moments.

And he absolutely adores every minute that he is.

Because with how much your greedy cunt is pulsing around him, and your manicured nails are scratching red lines down his back, Choso thinks he’s really found heaven. Right between your legs.

“Baby, slow down, Cho,” you whined, your sight obscured with tears though you could still make out the image of his sculpted body over yours, and he’s so big compared to you.

Sometimes he might forget that—but could you blame him though? Anyone would forget about some mere size difference when inside your addictive pussy, and he proved to be that anyone.

Choso leaned forward, and in the process his hair fell forward, framing both yours and his face. His hands ventured up your body and found their place on your chest, squeezing the meleable flesh.

“‘S okay, you can take it,” he mumbled, pressing a quick kiss to your lips, uncaring of the slight drool dribbling from the side of your mouth. With each thrust the course hairs at his base tickled your clit, stimulating you in a way that felt so good your whole body was quivering with pleasure.

“Just..one more, baby,”

✧･ﾟ𝓝.𝓚✧･ﾟ

Sometimes Nanami finds himself wondering just what you do to him, how you’ve changed him in ways he couldn’t himself in the past years you’ve been together. He can't help but smile when he sees your infectious smile, and he melts when he hears your sweet laugh.

But, above all, you've created an addiction in him. One that he seems to think about every waking moment; even at work, and that’s new territory for him.

What’s worse is that you know. Always teasing him about how pussy drunk he is, how he’d really do anything just to be inside you—not like he’s denying that—but he can’t retaliate with the way the tips of his ears burn pink. So, he’ll prove it.

“Kento, what’re you—“ you cut yourself off with an uneven breath, eyes rolling to the back of your head in tandem with the way he pushes himself into you.

His strong arms are wrapped around you, keeping you in place, but he strangely doesn’t begin to move. The reason being—well, he’s testing himself. His resolve, his patience by not moving a single inch, even while being compressed by your tight warmth.

Which is proving to be a challenge already for Nanami.

“Proving to you that ‘m not—“ he halts, groaning and gritting his teeth as you slightly shift, causing a grin to flourish on your face.

“That you’re not what?” you retort, pushing your hips back onto him, taking him in deeper than he already was. Your hand reaches back and caresses his face, cooing above his lips. “Know you wanna move. ‘M not stopping you either, ken.”

You’re so close to his lips Nanami could move an inch and they’d touch, but he won’t, of course. But…when you’re fucking yourself on his cock, moaning out for him to hear, to tease him, Nanami thinks maybe there isn’t anything to prove.

Maybe he is drunk on your pussy.

✧･ﾟ𝓣.𝓕✧･ﾟ

Toji knows of his slight compulsion towards your pussy. His tendency to always want to be inside is truly something that needs to be studied—because there’s absolutely no way his sex drive should be this significant.

Admittedly, he is aware of his addiction, but will he take any action to try to change his behavior? No. That then becomes your problem to tackle, but you have the perfect solution.

“A what?” Toji mumbled, licking the scar on his lip as he creased an eyebrow upwards in confusion. You were sat on his lap, your arms looped around his neck and you began to speak.

“A Sex ban, Toji.” you attempted to suppress your grin when you saw the confusion on his face only deepen, and a big hand came to cup your cheek, forcing you to look at him.

“‘M not for all your little games today, doll. Got a mission tomorrow and y’know what that means.” he sighed, his free hand holding your waist, slowly sliding to the waistband of your shorts and beginning to pull them down.

“But, really baby, we—you need a break.” you protested, but just couldn’t counter back with the way his rough and thick fingers were already playing with your folds, gathering your essence.

Quickly, his lips were on yours and that shut you up, which gave him time to free himself from his sweats and enter you in one, swift motion.

He wasted no time in holding your hips and bouncing you up and down on his cock, a smug smirk on his lips as he looked at the way your eyes rolled back in pleasure. You weren’t one to talk about a sex ban when you could hardly even let him go on a mission for more than 2 days without complaining about how much you missed him and his magic dick.

“Now ya just be quiet and take what I give you, yeah?” he breathed in your ear as his big hands groped your tits, fingers playing with your hardened nipples. The pleasure coursed throughout your body so deliciously, already causing your thighs to begin quivering and your pussy pulsed around him, greedy to suck him dry.

“Good girl,”

[buggachat]

adrien never went to public school / adrienette have never met AU where Ladynoir are dating but Marinette has beef with Adrien Agreste™ on twitter, spurred by her interest in the fashion industry and her friendship with Mylene. ads are all over the place of Adrien promoting products like air in a bottle and NFTs and just generally so many products that are extremely poor taste/bad for the environment. Marinette tweets about beauty standards in the industry and all the shit Gabriel brand does to the environment and how Adrien Agreste perfectly encapsulates it all.

Adrien, of course, never responds to any of her tweets. her tweets are just white noise in the background. she is nowhere near on his level. one day Marinette tweets out something akin to "if I saw Adrien Agreste irl i'd punch him in the face" and her twitter gets banned for Threats of Violence, Alya draws attention to the injustice of it via the Ladyblog and suddenly "I want to punch Adrien Agreste in the face [gets banned]" becomes a bit of a meme. NOW people know who Marinette is and are listening to what she's saying (on her new account or whatever). Chat Noir also tweets that he wants to punch Adrien in the face

A hashtag trends. Marinette caves and starts tweeting about the scandals of the industry on her Ladybug twitter too. Adrien's twitter and instagram comments are flooded with both threats to punch him but also just generally critical comments like "nice pic and all but are you not going to address the sweatshop allegations?". Adrien still does not address it. At most he turns comments off. Marinette is gnawing at the wood of her desk.

Then a Ladybug and Chat Noir identity reveal happens.

Marinette is stunned. Absolutely mouth agape. Cannot form words. Chat Noi— NO, ADRIEN— ADRIEN FUCKING AGRESTE looks at her and is like "oh ha :) .... Marinette Dupain-Cheng, right? You're the girl who wanted to punch me hahaha"

after recovering from her world being shattered, she's like...... "hahaha...... um............... yeah...... uh..... so you... DO know who i am. and you're just. ignoring it then. hahaha... ok... thats....... fine..... anyway..... u-uh...... im not... gonna actually punch you. but. um. k-kitty do you um. maybe want to stop promoting deforestation and all that"

he's like "I don't"

she's like. "yes you do. literally in your newest ad you said to the camera 'who needs trees when bottled air is the way of the future'. like did you really read that line out loud and not see a problem with it"

"yeah, that wasn't me"

"what are you talking abou—"

"it's deepfaked"

"..... what"

"all of my ads in the past few years are deepfakes. I complained too much so my father fired me. turns out that i signed away all rights to my face and voice to him when I was 13 or something. he can just use my face and voice and name however he wants. he generates ads. i dont even have access to the 'Adrien Agreste' twitter or insta accounts. sometimes he makes me do runways but beyond that I'm not involved in all."

"... ... ... ... ... what"

"yeah haha... :") im sorry. i wish i could help you more. but he never listens to me. i don't like it either, i.... i've asked him to stop sooo many times. but he never listens to me. i hate seeing my face used without my consent but haha.... i don't... have any rights here so. sorry. i really wish i could help more"

and now marinette hates "Adrien Agreste"™ ads/posts EVEN MORE and is threatening to kill Gabriel Agreste himself. all while kissing the real adrien agreste silly

[chestersturniolo]

NOT IT!

Matt Sturniolo x fem!reader

In which; the lack of bunks on the tour bus result in you and matt sharing….

based on this request

••••••••••••••••••••

The tour bus hummed down the highway as you were perched on one of the small couches near the kitchenette, legs tucked under you as you and Matt exchanged quiet conversations.

It was the very first day of tour. It had been a long day—rehearsals, soundchecks, meet and greets—but somehow, the energy inside the bus hadn’t died down. Everyone was buzzing with post-show adrenaline.

Matt had just finished telling you a ridiculous story from a past tour, one that had you nearly in tears with laughter. You leaned against him slightly, feeling the warmth from his body as he smiled at you.

“What are we doing after the next stop?” you asked, as you fiddled with the hem of your hoodie.

Before Matt could answer, a loud groan came from the back of the bus where the bunks were.

“There’s not enough bunks for all of us!” Madi announced, standing up. “Someone’s gonna have to share”

You didn’t pay much attention to the ensuing debate, still focused on Matt. You were absorbed in whatever tangent he’d gone off on, his voice soft and relaxed, which made it easy to block out the rest of the world. The rest of the group, however, had shifted into a full-blown argument over sleeping arrangements, voices rising as everyone made their case for not wanting to share.

It wasn’t until you heard a chorus of “NOT IT!” from behind you that your attention snapped back to the rest of the group. You blinked in confusion, glancing around at the mischievous grins of your friends.

“Wait, what’s going on?” Matt asked, eyebrows raised.

Madi, looking all too pleased with herself, leaned over the back of the couch. “Everyone called ‘not it’—which means you two are sharing a bunk tonight”

Your eyes widened as you turned to Matt. “Wait, seriously?”

Nick laughed from his spot on the couch, clearly enjoying the chaos. “Yup. You snooze, you lose”

You exchanged a look with Matt, both of you caught off guard by how quickly things had spiraled. Sharing a bunk on this cramped bus wasn’t exactly ideal, especially considering how small the bunks were. They barely fit one person comfortably, let alone two.

“You guys really didn’t notice?” Madi teased, raising an eyebrow. “That conversation must’ve been really captivating” she sneered.

Matt chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Guess we were a little distracted”

You felt heat rise to your cheeks, though you couldn’t deny that you had been completely lost in whatever moment you were having with Matt. Now, though, you were faced with the reality of the situation—sharing a tiny space for the night.

“Well” you sighed, standing up. “Guess we’d better figure this out”

The bus rolled on, the buzz of the engine a steady background noise as you made your way to the bunks with Matt trailing behind you. There wasn’t much space, just a small, narrow mattress with a thin blanket and a pillow shoved into the corner. It looked…tight, to say the least.

Matt eyed the bunk and then glanced at you. “Ladies first?” he offered, a playful smirk on his lips.

You rolled your eyes but climbed in, turning on your side to make as much room as possible. Matt followed, shifting to lie on his back. There was barely enough room to move without touching each other, your bodies pressed together in the confined space.

~

It had taken a while to find a somewhat comfortable position—Matt on his back, with you tucked against his side, your head resting on his chest. You could hear his steady breathing, feel the warmth of him next to you, and despite the cramped space, the closeness was comforting.

The initial awkwardness had faded, leaving behind an unexpected calm. Matt’s hand rested gently on your waist, his thumb tracing lazy circles there, a motion you didn’t think he even realized he was doing.

“This is definitely not how I imagined ending tonight” you laughed

Matt chuckled, the sound vibrating against your ear. “Yeah, me neither-” he admitted, glancing down at you. “-though, I can’t really complain”

You tilted your head to look up at him. “Oh? You’re not miserable being squished in here with me?”

He smirked, shaking his head slightly. “Nah, it could be worse. I could be stuck with Chris. He takes up twice the space”

You laughed softly, imagining the absolute chaos if Chris were in this situation instead of you. “Good point. He’d probably elbow you in his sleep”

Matt’s gaze softened as he looked down at you. “I’m pretty lucky then” he murmured.

You felt your heart skip a beat at the way he said it, the quiet sincerity in his voice. There was something about the moment—maybe it was the warmth of his body, or the softness of his words, but it felt like a tiny shift between the two of you. The air grew heavier, more intimate.

“Are you?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper now.

He paused for a moment, his eyes searching yours. “Yeah…I’m glad it’s you”

The words settled between you like a secret, and you couldn’t help but smile, your cheeks warming. You hadn’t expected that—hadn’t expected this—but now that it was happening, it felt…right. Being close to Matt, both physically and emotionally, wasn’t strange at all. In fact, it felt like the most natural thing in the world.

You shifted slightly, adjusting your head on his chest, your hand resting gently on his side. “You’re not so bad to be stuck with either” you say

Matt’s hand tightened ever so slightly on your waist, pulling you just a bit closer, your bodies fully pressed together now. You could hear the faint hitch in his breath, feel the way his heart had picked up a little beneath your cheek.

Neither of you spoke for a long moment, just lying there in the dark, the bus continuing to hum along in the background.

“Y’know-“ Matt said after a while, his voice a little lower now, “-I’ve kind of been waiting for a moment like this”

You blinked, turning your head slightly so you could look up at him again. “A moment like what?”

He hesitated, biting the inside of his cheek as if considering whether or not to say what was on his mind. Then, with a small, almost shy smile, he answered, “Just…a moment where it’s just us”

Your breath caught in your throat. There had always been this unspoken thing between the two of you—something neither of you had ever acknowledged but had always felt. And now, lying here together, the words were finally coming to the surface.

“I’ve thought about it too” you admitted quietly.

Matt’s eyes softened, a smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah?”

“Yeah” you said, your heart racing. “Maybe more than I realized”

There was a beat of silence as you let that sink in. The air between you had shifted, the playful banter now giving way to something deeper, something that felt like it had been there all along.

Matt’s hand moved from your waist, his fingers brushing a strand of hair away from your face.“I’m glad I’m not the only one” his voice barely above a whisper now.

You felt a wave of warmth wash over you, your heart swelling at his words. “You’re definitely not”

He looked at you for a long moment, his gaze so soft, so full of something unspoken. you lifted your head and you found yourself leaning into him just a little more, this tips of your noses brushing. The energy quickly shifted once again, the intensity of the moment filling the air. Both of your gazes flicking between eachothers eyes and lips.

Without saying a word, you both leaned in, the space between you disappearing until your lips meet. It was soft, gentle , and full of unspoken emotions that had been building between you for longer than either of you would admit.

When you finally pulled back, your foreheads rested together, as Matt brings up his hand cupping your cheek. “i’ve been wanting to do that for a while” he whispers.

“Me too” you blushed

He gave you a small grin before pulling you close by your waist once again, your head finding its way back to his chest. A few minutes go by of comfortable silence as the two of you internally freak out at what just happened.

You let out a small yawn, causing matt to chuckle slightly. “Tired sweetheart?” he coos

You nod lazily against him

“Let’s try’n get some rest hmm?”

~~~~~

The next morning, you woke up to the sound of soft laughter and muffled voices. You blinked your eyes open slowly, the sunlight filtering through the small window of the bus. You realized that you and Matt hadn’t moved much during the night, still wrapped around each other.

You stretched slightly, careful not to wake Matt, who was still sound asleep beside you, his arm draped over your waist. You couldn’t help but smile at how close the two of you had grown overnight.

As you carefully slid out of the bunk, trying not to disturb him, you heard Chris’s voice from the kitchenette. “Well, well, look who finally woke up”

You shot him a groggy look as you grabbed a cup of coffee. “Don’t even start”

Nick chuckled from beside him “Morning girl”

Chris grinned, “I wasn’t gonna say anything—”

“But?”

“But I did hear something interesting last night-“ he continued, his grin widening. “-something about Matt being really glad it’s you he’s stuck with?”

You froze, mid-sip, your eyes widening. “Wait, you heard that?”

“Oh yeah-” Chris said, barely holding back laughter. “-thin walls, my friend”

Your face flushed as you realized Chris had overheard Matt’s sweet, quiet confession. “You’re the worst” you muttered, trying to hide your embarrassment.

Chris was practically glowing with amusement. “I can’t wait to see what Matt has to say when he wakes up”

As if on cue, Matt stirred in the bunk behind you, stretching and blinking awake. He swung his legs out, sitting on the edge of the bunk. He glanced over at you, then at Chris, and immediately seemed to sense that something was up. “What’s going on?” he asked, his voice thick with sleep.

Chris gave him a sly grin. “Oh, nothing. Just telling her about how sweet you are”

Matt frowned, clearly confused. “What?”

You shot Chris a look, but it was too late. “You know, the whole ‘glad it’s you I’m stuck with’ thing?”

Matt’s eyes widened, his face instantly going red as the memory hit him. “Chris—”

Chris threw his hands up, laughing. “Hey, man, I’m just saying, it was cute”

Matt groaned, burying his face in his hands. “I’m never going to live this down, am I?”

You couldn’t help but laugh “Don’t worry-” you teased, walking over to the bunk and sitting beside him. “-I thought it was cute too”

Matt peeked out from behind his hands, a small, sheepish smile on his face. “Yeah?”

“Yeah” you smirked

He let out a breath, his eyes softening as he looked at you, and you knew that despite the teasing, neither of you minded the shift that had happened between you.

Chris, however, was not done. “Man, I’m never letting this go”

••••••••••••••••••••••••

A/N; hope you guys enjoyyyeddd!! tysm for the request anon i loved writing this🤍

- 𝑺𝒂𝒈𝒆 ♡

MASTERLIST

taglist ; @sturnobsessedwh0re @nayveetbhh @phone4pills @demzzz @dripgodnay

@sturniooolos @monroesturnns @mattsbitchh @slutforsturnioloss @pvssychicken @tsturniolo4

@brianna-grace12 @blahbel668 @stvrlighht @witchofthehour @ilyttmatsa @asherrisrandom

[art]

Creator Spotlight: @themetalhiro

Hi, I’m Metal! I’m a freelance artist from good ol’ New Jersey. My favorite things to work with are a lot of bright colors, exaggerated poses, and candid scenarios. I try to farm sensible chuckles whenever I can, so I’m also big into comics. I love making them about my life, and the media I’m into, and one day I’d like to publish my own series!  Thank you to everyone who has gotten me this far!!

Check out Metal's interview below!

Did you originally have a background in art? If not, how did you start?

I guess so! It’s funny, I don’t remember a single time in my life that I wasn’t drawing as a hobby… somewhere in middle school (a little late, I know.) I put the pieces together that animated movies were made by artists, and that it wasn’t just for fun, they were paid to do it. The moment I discovered people could be paid to make art, I decided I would do that, too. Now I’m here!

How has your style developed over the years?

I think the best way to answer this would be with an example! Over the last few years, I have made more of an effort to draw more intentionally, which sounds silly. Now, I put more thought into my poses and step out of my comfort zone with shape language and composition. I had a phase where I drew everyone with a huge, perfectly circular head and no nose. That definitely did not lend much variety...

Which 3 famous artists (dead or alive) would you invite to your dinner party?

Ack! I’m so terrible at history! I’d love to give a well-thought-out answer about fine artists of old, but I don't think we’d have much in common… Most artists I admire and who have driven me forward creatively are the people behind comics I’ve read. Andrew Hussie, Bryan Lee O’Malley, Eiichiro Oda... these guys have inspired me greatly and had a heavy influence in developing my art style and sense of humor. I’d love to ask them questions about their processes and upcoming projects. I think it would make for an entertaining night!

Over the years as an artist, what were your biggest inspirations behind your creativity?

Outside of pure aesthetics like searing bright colors, layered clothing, and loud noises…. the best and most inspiring moments in my life were those surrounded by friends and loved ones! I cherish the hell out of memories of hanging around in fun locations, trying weird food together, and impromptu midnight walks... so I try my best to capture that atmosphere and my own memories in my work when I can, even if I’m imposing fictional characters on top of them. That’s always the core of it.

What is a medium that you have always been intrigued by but would never use yourself?

I would never permanently refuse a medium, but every time I pick up clay, I’m like a baby using its hands for the first time. Absolutely dreadful. If one day I could make and paint a figurine like the ones I admire in videos, that would be awesome... But for now, I’m not counting on it.

How do you want to evolve as a creator?

I’ve had an absolute blast drawing fanart over the years, and it’s certainly played a massive role in my growth as an artist. But my dream has always been to publish my own stories for y'all to enjoy! I have lots of worlds I want to introduce to you before I’m old and gray. I want to get faster, work harder, and get better at drawing interesting settings so I can get the wheels turning as soon as possible. I also want to stop avoiding the color blue like a coward.

What do you wish you knew when you first started out creating art that you know now?

Pay your taxes quarterly. Tablets will break at the exact moment you need them most, so have a spare. Wear your blue light glasses. You’re going to need to wear a brace on every joint on the right side of your body. It can be lonely sitting at your desk all day. The car on the side of the road that costs $1000 cash….. don’t trust it!!!

Who on Tumblr inspires you and why?

@cranity—They use absolutely beautiful colors and weighty line work. Everything looks so sharp and clean! I wanna put it all up on my wall!

@vewn—Their ability to crank out quality short films and illustrations packed with detail is incredible. The off-kilter perspective they use really sells disorientation and catches your attention like nothing else.

@nelnal—They have absolutely banger character designs again and again, I can’t believe one person’s mind can come up with so many creative ideas!

@jinx88kc—They have a beautiful and recognizable style, and the way they incorporate animation into their illustrations sometimes is SO cool!

Thanks for stopping by, Metal! For more of Metal’s work, follow their Tumblr, @themetalhiro! If you haven't seen their Meet the Artist piece, be sure to check it out here!

[pastryfication]

oscar x reader who has a cochlear implant

sudden silence | oscar piastri

summary: your cochlear implant isn’t always your best friend, but when it fails you at the worst possible time, you feel panic like never before. note: i hope this is what you imagined!! i researched quite a lot to make it as accurate as possible but please correct me if i’ve written something inaccurate xx

everything was loud around you. the engines roaring to life again and again cut through the air and the crowds erupted in cheers whenever they caught sight of a car. the announcers were talking animatedly over the loudspeakers, their enthusiasm clear even if it was just free practice. and on top of all that, the general hustle and bustle also sounded in the background. the high-octane atmosphere was almost headache-inducing. everything was slowly becoming too much for you, the noise deafening, drowning out your thoughts, until suddenly, everything stopped.

suddenly, everything was completely quiet. not a single sound of oscar’s pit crew talking loudly. not a single tyre screeching on the track. just complete silence.

your hand immediately reached up to the small implant in your ear. don’t panic. you forced yourself to take a deep breath. glitches happen. just count to 10 and it should be working again.

1, 2, 3, 4 . . . you took a deep breath again . . . 8, 9 . . . 10 . . .

nothing happened. the silence lingered, the disorienting feeling wrapping around you like a heavy blanket. one of the engineers started shouting something and suddenly everyone was running around, but you couldn’t hear them. you couldn’t hear anything.

you could feel your heart beating away in your chest while your hands started to tremble, clamminess forming in your palms. you tried to steady your breathing again, tried to calm yourself, but everything was suddenly overwhelming. relax. you thought. you can fix it.

fingers fumbling, you reached for the implant, quickly checking the battery. it was still there. adjusting the settings didn’t work either, and it dawned on you like a comet from the sky. there was nothing you could do.

the panic gripped you from the inside and moved into occupying your entire body. hearing was crucial at the track. not just for communication but for safety as well. what if you missed an important announcement? or something critical happening on the track? what if oscar crashed and nobody could tell you?

the visual stimuli—the flashing lights, the cars zooming by, the people moving around you—became slowly overwhelming without the grounding presence of sound. the sensory overload only added to the panic already formed by your thoughts.

what were you supposed to do? alert some of the employees? no. you couldn’t disturb them from their job. find someone else to help? you mind did a quick once over of the people attending the grand prix, but no one who would be able to help you came to mind.

you were on your own.

୨୧

oscar immediately stressed when he exited the car after fp2, finding out that you were gone from the garage. and no one knew where you were.

you had left somewhere in the middle of the session without telling anyone.

it instantly worried him, and with a frown on his face, he made his way to his small drivers room.

you don’t hear him enter, but suddenly, his figure was standing in front of you, a frown on his face as he said something. you couldn’t hear it. it was as if he was miming the words, no sound escaping his mouth.

he must have noticed something in your facial expression, because suddenly, he stopped talking. his face morphed into an even deeper frown of concern, and his hand moved up to point at his right ear, his question evident in the unspoken.

you only nodded, looking down at your fingers instead of meeting his eyes. was he disappointed that you had left?

you didn’t get long to ponder, because he quickly took a step forward, his hand meeting shoulder first to alert you of his closeness before he pulled you into him, both arms wrapping tightly around your frame and squeezing you against his chest in a hug.

the two of you stayed there for a while, his hand rubbing your back gently as you sniffled slightly, trying to keep the pent up tears at bay.

someone must have knocked on the door, because you felt oscar chest vibrate as he lifted his head to shout something in reply, but he didn’t pull back from you.

there, in oscar’s embrace, with his arms shielding you from the outside world, his lips pressing reassuring kisses into your hair, you knew everything would be fine. you could call the audiologist in a moment, and everything would be fixed. but for a moment you actually enjoyed the silence, because you know that oscar won’t let anything happen. with him, you were completely safe, and as long as you had him, nothing could go completely wrong.

[kingkatsuki]

I started this in March and I finally managed to finish it. It was only supposed to be a short thirst post but yet here we are. Thank you if you decide to give it a go💕

Summary: Tengen thinks Sanemi is wound far too tight, and of course he knows just the way to fix it— by taking him to his favourite brothel.

Pairing: Shinazugawa Sanemi x f!reader.

Warnings: 18+, reader is a courtesan, implied!Tengen using their services, virgin!Sanemi, sex as a transaction, slight degradation, praise, blowjobs, cum swallowing, dirty talk, fingering, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, creampie, Sanemi is way too obsessed with reader way too fast (but she likes it!!)

Word Count: 9.4k.

“Allow yourself to indulge a little, my friend,” Tengen clapped his shoulder with a grin, “After all that’s what this district is for.”

“I have no time for indulgence.” Sanemi scoffed, ripping his shoulder out of Tengen’s grip as he bared his front incisors.

It was already insufferable enough that he’d had to spend the last few nights with the Sound Pillar, but it was made worse by the grand spectacle he’d made when they’d both entered the entertainment district for the first time. The bright lights paired with the bustling crowds seemed to evoke even more intolerable actions from Uzui and Sanemi couldn’t wait to get home.

“There’s always time for indulgence, my friend,” He persisted, not taking his answer for gospel as he continued down the brightly illuminated street, “And don’t you want to experience the soft touch of a woman?”

“Why would I want to do that?” Sanemi sneered, rolling his eyes as Tengen waved over at a group of women who were standing at the entrance to an establishment trying to coax him over.

All Sanemi wanted to do was find a bed at the local inn and rest his head for a few hours so he could be alert when searching for the demon that was rumoured to be sighted in the area. It disgusted him that people were seemingly still out satiating themselves with cheap frivolity when lives were at risk.

“You can’t die a virgin,” He continued, mid-wave, “How embarrassing.”

“You need to assess your priorities if that is what you assume to be an embarrassment.” He snapped, “Not when there are still demons alive—”

“Ah, I worry as much as you,” Sanemi highly doubted it, “But You never know you might find yourself relaxing a bit.” Tengen persisted, “Might find yourself less angry.”

Sanemi sneered as he balled his hands into a fist, preparing to land a strike against his cocky fellow hashira before Tengen pulled back the purple fabric to a building at the side of them, stepping inside the brothel.

“You can wait outside if you want, I’m sure you’ll find the street performers more than entertaining.”

Sanemi glanced towards the rowdy men who were currently playing instruments in the middle of the street, the loud noise irksome as people stopped to dance with them. Scrunching his nose in irritation as he turned to face the Sound Pillar.

“Fine,” His lips smoothed into a thin line, “But you’re fuckin’ paying.”

Sanemi lingered outside as he stared at the wisteria pattern against the curtain. His heart pounded in his chest at the thought before he took a deep breath and followed inside.

“Ah, Mr Uzui, your usual?”

“Not today,” He clapped a hand on Sanemi’s shoulder, “I’ve brought a friend.”

Sanemi could see the girls in the background begin to cower away, even though they tried to hide it. Shrugging Uzui’s hand off his shoulder with a growl of irritation as he tried to avoid the pairs of eyes watching him intently, jaw locked as he sucked in a breath of air.

“How wonderful, Uzui-sama.” The lady bowed as she motioned to a young girl, “Our Oiran is unavailable now, but I’m certain she will more than suffice.”

The girl cowered in fear as she was given a push in her lower back in an attempt to get her feet to start working, the poor thing. She’d barely been here a week and she’d already had a difficult afternoon with a travelling samurai who’d assumed being rough was included with the price.

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, Shinazugawa.” Uzui called out from behind him as Sanemi glared in irritation. There was certainly no chance of that happening, especially at the sight of the young girl that looked close to tears.

“It would be my honor to serve you tonight, my Lord.” You chanced stepping forward, feeling your Madame turn to glare at you.

“Remember your place,” She jeered, the same sickly sweet smile on her face to mask her indignation before turning back to the hashira, “I’m sorry, Shinazugawa-sama. Please let us show you to your room—”

“I want her.” He cut her off coldly, tired eyes matching your gaze as an unfamiliar heat lingered in your chest.

“Not to question your choice, my Lord. But we have many excellent options here—”

“Keep them.” He stepped towards you as you took this as your moment to turn around. Ignoring your Madame’s calls for him to enjoy his night, and request a change at any time if he so desired. It was no wonder she was worried about you tarnishing her reputation, trying to palm to hashira off on someone far more weak willed. But you were intrigued by the man from the moment he stepped through the door, and the poor girl needed a chance to recover from her ordeal.

You could practically feel his eyes on you as you led him down the wooden hallway towards your room, keeping enough of a distance as you slid the screen door open gently. Stepping to the side to invite him in with a slight bow of your head as the white-haired man followed into the room, scrunching his nose at the potent smell of flowers that permeated the air as you closed the door behind you. It was sickly sweet, worse than the ohagi he’d cook at home; invading his senses as he tried to ignore the scent throbbing at the back of his skull.

You could feel how awkward he was, lingering by the doorway as you could cut the tension in the air with a blade. Smoothing down the front of your kimono as you stood in front of him, noticing the way his lavender eyes took note of the futon in the corner of the room.

So this was the seedy shit that Uzui got up to in his free time? Sanemi scoffed.

An impertinent man with three wives who still managed to find the time to spend in the arms of another. Having one woman would be enough of a nuisance, he thinks. But juggling four sounded like pure greed.

“Can I get you anything Shinazugawa-sama?” You smiled, “Tea? Sake? We also have fresh onigiri—”

Sanemi wished you’d stop calling him that. He usually delighted in the honorific when he was called it by others, but the saccharine lilt to your voice as you danced along his name had his cock pulsing between his thighs uncomfortably.

“No.” He bit back the insult that threatened to follow as you nodded in affirmation.

“Well, you’re welcome to make yourself comfortable for your time here,” You continued, “Our services are open to the Hashira for as long as they see fit.”

He scoffed at that, knowing that a Hashira’s pocket was rarely empty so it made sense they’d want to make as much money from them as possible.

“We don’t have to do anything,” You smiled softly, noticing he was silent as he remained still. The cogs in his head slowly turned as he wondered why he’d even agreed to this in the first place, how he’d even made it this far.

“You think I’m scared or somethin’?” Sanemi gibed, maybe a little harsher than intended, but it felt warranted. Your words made it seem as though you were questioning his valour. And Shinazugawa Sanemi never backed down in fear, especially not like this.

“No,” You tilted your head to the side and Sanemi felt his heart rattle at his cages with how cute you looked. Trying to fight the heat that was slowly rising through his body and tickling the tips of his ears.

He felt hot. If he’d have known this was how easily it was to increase his body temperature warm enough to potentially receive a mark, he would’ve demanded that Uzui bring him here a long, long time ago—

“I can just tell you’ve never been here before,” You hummed, “It’s probably unfamiliar to what you’re used to.”

You were right. Sanemi felt completely out of his depth.

“I have no desire to frequent a whorehouse.” He spat, masking his vulnerability. And yet he was acutely aware of the way you didn’t flinch like many would, cowering away from him in fear as though he were a coiled snake ready to attack.

It was at that moment your eyes met his across the room, and for the first time, he recognised the desolate emptiness in your eyes. He recognised it because it was the same one he held whenever he glanced at his reflection. So much time spent wallowing in self-loathing and pity, forcing himself to submerge himself in sheer hatred instead of looking at the ones around him. Sanemi could tell you’d been through a lot too, suffering at the hands of many while being forced into a life you’d never wanted for yourself. Much like him.

“But you’re here anyway, so you might as well relax for the time,” You smiled back, and it only pained him more that he’d spoken to you with such callousness, “And at least you can avoid your friend for a few hours.”

“Is that what all your visitors come here to do?” He sneered but did not attempt to move.

“To linger in the doorway?” You raised a brow, “No, you would be the first.”

Sanemi felt a heat rise all the way to the tips of his ears at this, noticing he’d barely stepped inside the room since you’d brought him this far.

“I don’t bite, you know.” You laughed as you watched him frozen in place.

Could you tell he was a virgin? He wondered if it was obvious from the way he lingered as his body became engulfed in flames. Willing the ground to swallow him whole at the prospect of appearing so inexperienced, and he was surprised at how much he cared.

“We have many people that come here just to talk,” You smiled, settling down into a kneel, “But you don’t seem like much of a talker.”

But that’s not why he was here, he thinks. The proposition had been offered to him, and Uzui had certainly never mentioned talking. “The perfect medicine!” He’d clapped him on the back as he’d led him towards the establishment, a haughty smile on his face. Sanemi was here to try and settle his temper, to blow off some steam. And yet here he still stood stoic in the doorway, silence hanging in the air.

“Well, if you don’t like to talk. Maybe you’d like to watch?” You offered up the option, as Sanemi froze.

What?

He was certain he wouldn’t make it from this room alive, spending years fighting demons only to be scuppered by a beguiling temptress like you. Positive Uzui had fed him to the wolves the moment he stepped through the doors to this establishment and pulled back the curtain.

Sanemi’s tongue slipped out to wet his lips, a futile action when his throat was this dry, as he played back your offer in his head. The words echoed in his ear as he wondered how he was supposed to receive them, whether he needed to say yes or if you would be so kind as to show him exactly what you meant.

He’d never thought much of laying with a woman before. His line of work failed to offer much chance of finding a suitable wife and settling down, even though Uzui had managed to find three. More interested in ridding the world of the scourge of demons instead of cheap frills and frivolity. Sanemi’s only glimpses of breasts had been in onsens or walking through the Red light district. Enough to have his cock pulsing between his thighs as he fought the temptation, but nothing like how you made him feel standing in front of him right now.

“Uzui-sama had said to show you—”

“Can’t you just get on with it?” He cut you off, definitely a little harsher than intended. But it’s to be expected when he’s like a wild deer backed into a corner, as you mentioned the shepherd that had dragged him to the slaughter.

He was going to kill Uzui-sama when he got out of this, he scoffed, the man probably only attended the house to hear that honorific.

“Of course, Shinazugawa-sama.” You smiled, as Sanemi’s eyes now focused on your smaller hands teasing the opening of your kimono, his cock bucking under his pants at the same honorific, “So you can learn how to please a woman.”

Sanemi didn’t want a woman, he had no intention of pleasing anyone. And yet he found himself wondering on what it would be like to please you. Whether your eyes would roll, or your toes would curl. Thinking about the saccharine sigh of his name tumbling from your lips when he had you on the crux of your bliss. And then he began to wonder whether any man had ever pleased a woman inside these four walls, whether a man had ever pleased you—

“Is that even important?” He scoffed, lips coiled into a sneer as you sat back on your haunches.

“Well, it depends. I’m sure as long as you have a woman to lay with you’ll find your pleasure,” You smiled, finding no offence in his question, “But if you help her find her pleasure you’ll be far more satisfied.”

Sanemi felt the heat inside him start to burn as you pressed him to stay. Telling himself it was out of pure intrigue as he lowered his sword to the floor, his palm still clasped over it as he made his decision to stay.

You managed to get him to kneel, although he positioned himself with one foot on the ground. Knee bent as though he was preparing to flee the scene the moment this became too much.

“So you’re only here because of your friend?” You posed the question to him in an attempt to break the ice, though it was more than obvious to be true.

The hunched shoulders and flushed cheeks made it wholly apparent that this wasn’t one of his usual haunts. And that the Hashira felt extremely out of place—

Awkward.

“He seems to think I’m wound too tight,” Sanemi grunted, eyes focused on the way you languidly disrobed.

If he had the confidence he’d reach across the room and pull the haori down your shoulders himself, telling you to hurry up. He’d never witnessed someone take so long to disrobe, although he supposed this was some sort of show you were supposed to put on for the drunken men who frequented the establishment. So he held back, watching as the fabric finally pooled around you.

“So he brought you here to let off some steam.” You smile, beginning to work on the buttons at the front of your kimono.

“And what say you?” He sneered, “What do you think?”

“I’d say your job is difficult,” You whispered, slowly pulling back the front of your kimono to expose your naked breasts to his prying gaze.

Sanemi didn’t say anything, but you noticed his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed thickly. Nostrils flaring as he exhaled softly as the fabric fell around you to join your haori.

“It’s no wonder you have so much rage inside.” You continue, hands delicate in your lap as you allow him to look at you, “It’s okay to let it out. To release some tension—”

You were right, Sanemi supposed. Although since being inside this building he somehow felt worse— the tension continuing to build inside his abdomen as his pelvis tightened uncomfortably, his heavy cock throbbing with desire as it pressed against the front of his uniform. Shifting his thighs as he tried to give himself some slight relief from the incessant throb, as you did little to satiate it when you began to tease your naked breasts.

“Are you a virgin, Shinazugawa-sama?” You asked, although you were certain you already knew the answer.

“What’s it to you?” He mocked, “You’re just a common whore ready to spread her legs. It’s your job—”

“I’m sorry, my Lord.” You smile softly, finding no malice in his words. It was clear he was trying to deflect your question, as though the answer burned him to say, “I was certain you wanted to talk.”

You were worried you may have pushed him too much, that he would turn and flee the room and leave you naked and alone. Or worse— attack.

You’d had it happen before. Men who would enter the building of their own free will, before turning on you at the last moment. Hands wound tight around your neck as they blamed you for cheating on their wives, for making them do this. And it wasn’t just the men who had nothing else to lose; the ones that would spend their final gold on a night with a woman. These were respected members of society— samurai, business owners, and demon slayers. And perhaps that’s why every other woman had cowered in fear when the Wind Pillar had stepped through the door, because they expected nothing less from the ruthless Hashira.

But he looked vulnerable.

“If you don’t want to talk,” You continued to pull back the fabric of your kimono to expose your naked frame to his lilac eyes, the material cascaded down your body and onto the floor as you allowed him to drink in the sight of you. His eyes roamed your naked skin as they followed a path along your sternum, between the valley of your breasts until they settled on your chubby mound, “I’m certain there are other things we could do that would please you.”

Sanemi’s throat seized as he watched your hands reach up to mould against your round breasts, the skin dipping beneath your touch as you let out a soft, satisfied gasp. A sound that sent jolts of electricity surging through his veins. Enough to have his hands balling into tight fists that settled on top of his thighs as blunt nails dug into his palms, focused on the way your nipples hardened as you pinched and rolled them between your thumb and forefinger.

“You can touch me, you know,” You murmured, “I don’t mind.”

Sanemi swallowed thickly at the invitation. It was why he was here, after all. But somehow it felt daunting to reach out and close the gap, unsure where he should even start with you as he stayed stoic across the room.

You chanced scooting towards him across the wooden floor, settling yourself in front of him as you reached out to grasp one of his tightly closed fists. Gently prying his fingers open as he allowed you to contort his hand, splaying his fingers as you laced your fingers through his own, threading them together as your warmth engulfed him.

The action felt too intimate, which felt peculiar to say when he was sat opposite a half-naked stranger. And yet, he found himself not wanting to pull away. He leaned into your touch, his palm squeezing yours as you took it for reassurance, a soft smile on your face as he found himself beginning to relax.

“It’s okay,” You cooed, “We can just sit like this if you’d prefer.”

You were delighted when you felt the tense muscles in his hand begin to relax as his clenched jaw softened.

“Or we can tell your friend we did everything you wanted,” You continue with a laugh, “And that way it wouldn’t be a lie.”

And Sanemi wished he could put all his wants into words. The thoughts that now ran rampant through his mind as he breathed in the candied scent of you, feeling you lean closer to pepper gentle kisses to the side of his jaw. Tickling his skin against the growing stubble that left a shadow as you moved forward to place your hand flat against his muscular thigh.

“There wouldn’t be a need to lie.” Sanemi’s voice was rough like gravel as he tried desperately to wet his tongue, the roof of his mouth giving no appeasement as his Adam’s apple bobbed thickly.

“Oh?” You murmured, feeling no hint of him pulling away as you leaned back to face him. Your breath fanning his skin as you looked at him through thick, long lashes. Sultry eyes flickering towards his chapped lips before returning his gaze, “So what would you like us to tell him?”

“W-what?” Sanemi stuttered, cursing himself for sounding so pathetic.

“What is it you’d like to tell him?” You smiled softly, your hand slipping higher along his thigh, “What stories do you want to return with?”

And now Sanemi was certain this was the closest he’d come to death.

“Maybe I can suck your cock?” The words almost had him falling apart as he focused on every syllable, unused to someone speaking to him with such candour.

“Uh- yeah.” He felt the embarrassment begin to bloom inside him at his pathetic response as his eyes bore into your own.

You managed to get him on his back, chest heaving as you began to unfasten the belt around his hips. Watching the way his gut clenched in anticipation as you palmed him softly through the rough fabric, causing his hips to buck as he cursed beneath his breath.

“You feel big, Shinazugawa-sama.”

“Call me Sanemi.” He barked back gruffly, wanting to hear the sweet sound of his name leave your lips instead.

“Of course, Sanemi.” You cooed. Never making it to the futon as you straddled his thighs where he lay on the hardwood floor. Shrugging off the rest of your kimono to leave your body completely bare above him as he had to try to remember to breathe.

It was difficult to think when he noticed just how close your bare cunt was to his crotch, certain he could feel the warmth radiating from it against his thigh as you began to tug his pants down. Enough to free his aching cock as it drooped hard and heavy against his pelvis, long enough to follow the curve of his hip as the uncut tip leaked pearlescent beads of pre. Your stomach swirled at the sight of him, what he lacked in size he made up for in sheer girth. Thick, bulging veins forking along his girth as you imagined how he would feel buried inside you, the stretch as he fucked to into the shape of him. The thoughts had your neglected cunt throbbing around nothing as you felt warm slick begin to pool between your thighs.

“I was right— you are big.” You noted, wrapping a slender hand around him at the base as his hips jerked in surprise. Biting back a sharp hiss from between clenched teeth at the sensation as his palms instantly balled into fists at his sides.

“Is that what you say to every man that passes through here?” Sanemi spat, but he secretly hoped this wasn’t the case. He was filled with the incessant desire to impress you, to have you fawning over him. Even though none of this was real.

“No, actually,” You smiled, “I think it might actually hurt if you fuck me.”

Sanemi’s cock kicked with your blase tone, certain he was about to come undone from your words alone. But as if that weren’t enough, he felt himself choking back a grunt when you leaned down to press a lingering kiss to his leaking tip. Licking your lips to taste his pre as you stared up at him from under thick lashes, “If you tell me to stop, I’ll stop.”

Sanemi almost snorted at this. As though he wouldn’t be able to overpower you and push you off in an instant, you wouldn’t stand a chance—

“Oh, fuckin’ shit—” All conscious thoughts were ripped away from him the moment you wrapped your lips around his cock. Catching you by surprise as his hips jerked roughly, forcing more of his length inside your wet mouth as the heady tip of his cock pressed against the back of your throat. The sudden motion caused you to gag as you pulled back to cough and splutter, and Sanemi felt downright depraved when he throbbed at the sight of you. Strings of spit mixed with his pre connected him to your mouth as he groaned, noticing the fat tears that now clumped in your lashes as he tried to remember to breathe, “I’m sorry, I’m—”

“It’s okay,” You brushed him off with a smile, your warm palms stroked softly against his hairy thighs as he tried to calm his body down, “I actually liked it.”

You liked it? Gods, you were certain to be the death of him.

You took him into your mouth again as he fought back the urge to cant his hips forward, growling when your tongue began to trace the bulging veins along his length. Hollowing your cheeks as you began to gently bob your head along him as the hand wrapped around his base began to massage his heavy balls.

It was no wonder Uzui always seemed particularly cheery if this was what he got to experience at home. Sanemi’s eyes rolled back into his skull as he clenched them shut, positive that one look at you with your lips wrapped around him would have him coming undone in an instant.

“You can hold my head, show me what you like.” You murmured against the tip of his cock as you pulled back for air before swallowing him again. Coaxing him to touch you, to move you how he’d like to be treated, and Sanmei wondered why he should even bother when this already felt like heaven.

The whiny, desperate whine that vibrated around his cock the moment he held the back of your head in a large palm was his answer. Your throat instantly tightened around him as he swallowed back another debauched moan, tightening his grip as he began to help you bob your head along his cock. Careful not to hurt you as he pushed you down so the tip of his cock nudged the back of your throat with each downward motion, something that had him leaking even more pre as the salty taste dampened your tongue.

Sanemi could already feel his balls tightening in anticipation, your movements sending him closer to bliss as he used your mouth for his own pleasure.

There’s something about being the only person to see Shinazugawa Sanemi like this. A strong, powerful man who strikes fear into the hearts of many brought to his knees as you tower over him.

His cheeks blaze fiery red as the bloom spreads to the tips of his ears as you wrap his cock into a gentle fist, squeezing the base as he tries to stop his hips from canting forward pathetically. The noise that spills from his lips is more akin to an injured animal as he tries to stop himself from spilling his release so easily. But this is exactly what you do to him, the only person that can make him feel this way.

“Do something.” His tone is cold and brash, but there’s no real malice behind it as you have him as close to begging as you can.

Your fingers slip lower from his balls as you run your thumb along his taint, dipping into the sensitive skin as you have Sanemi’s hips bucking wildly as he catches you completely off guard as he cums with a depraved snarl. Hot, sticky ropes of cum spurt from his pulsing cock as you catch them in your mouth, coating your throat in his potent seed as his chest heaves from the intensity. His hand remains rough at the back of your head as he forgets his hold on you, keeping you pinned on his cock as he fills you with his release.

It’s only when you splutter that Sanemi realises his hold on you, pulling away as though he’s been burned as his lilac eyes stare down at you with worry. Watching you quiver as you cough and splutter again, as he sits up in an instant to cup your neck and assess if you’re okay.

“Shit, I’m sorry—” He rasps, his cock still half-hard and doused in your spit as it hangs between you. “I didn’t mean to— are you okay?”

And for the first time, it feels as though he’s let his walls down. The worry in his tone, paired with his wide eyes show you the concern that you hadn’t expected from the harsh Wind Pillar when he’d first entered the room, and yet here he was offering you more kindness and compassion than a lot of your previous visitors.

Your throat burns, but you answer him by parting your lips and lolling your tongue out so he can see that you’ve swallowed every drop of cum he’d given you. An action that already has his cock stirring for more attention as Sanemi bites back the harsh groan that threatens to rumble deep in his chest at the sight of you.

You really had no idea that you’d be the complete undoing of him, he supposed as he allowed his thumb to brush against your soft cheek. Smiling when you leaned into his touch, still settled between his thighs.

He decided at that moment he’d quite like to kiss you. Uncertain if that was even something people did in these establishments, whether you’d even allow him to. Wondering if you’d ever wanted to kiss any of the men you’d spent time with working here, whether you’d even want to kiss him. Remembering that this was probably nothing more than a job to you, another way to pay off your debts and get yourself out.

He’d get you out if he could. Spare you from all the disgusting, rowdy creeps that you have to deal with daily and protect you from the horrors of this world.

“Are you okay?” You tilted your head to the side as Sanemi was brought back from his thoughts.

“Weren’t you gonna show me how to please a woman?” He ignored your question as his chapped lips brushed against the curve of your jaw.

“Oh,” Your cheeks flushed with a delicate flourish as warmth bloomed across your skin, “Oh, yeah.”

You hesitated for a moment, wondering if you’d even be able to handle his touch on your skin. Your cunt already throbbing wanton and desperate with need as your slick began to soak your inner thighs, positive no one else had made you feel like this before.

Reaching out to wrap your smaller palm around his wrist as he allowed you to move it how you pleased, lifting it to move it to settle against one of your soft breasts.

“Oh,” You heaved a sigh as your fingers stayed wrapped around his wrist as Sanemi began to clench his fingers, barely a squeeze as though he was worried about hurting you as you coaxed him for more, “That feels good.”

The words seemed to encourage him as he began to massage the soft skin, calloused fingers grazing against your sensitive nipples that had you crying out for him. Pleased when he took the initiative to give your other breast the same attention, your cheeks flushed as he stared shamelessly at your exposed skin.

Reaching down you circled a hand around his thick wrist, raising his hand as you placed his calloused palm against your warm breast. Thick lashes fluttered on impact as you looked down at the way he encompassed it, fingers barely flexing as he noticed the way his hand circled it. You ground your hips against him, his semi-hard cock poking into the swell of your ass as you remained seated on his abdomen. The motion pressed you harder against his hand as he began to clench his fingers, squeezing the supple skin as a breathy whine escaped your lips.

Sanemi hadn’t seen many breasts, but he was certain that you were the prettiest by far. Gaining more confidence as he started to squeeze at the soft skin, his thumb grazing over one of your hardening nipples as it stiffened to a taut peak. Biting down on glossy lips you watched him focused and intent, giving the same attention to the other side as he began to palm them both.

Sanemi inhaled softly when your fingers began to busy themselves with the fastenings of his shirt, spreading what little was left to push it off his shoulders along with his haori. Your eyes trailed over each raised scar that marred his perfect skin, fingertips delicately brushing over each line of rough skin and puckered flesh. Giving the same amount of attention to each one, knowing that they all held their own story. Spending slightly longer on the long ones that crossed against the front of his chest, dangerously close to his heart as your palm stopped against his sternum to feel his heart hammering against his chest.

Sanemi had never found his scars repulsive, but for some reason beneath your gaze, he felt self-conscious. Worried that you may find him hideous and cower away from him like most others did. Others, whose opinions he didn’t care about, but yours?

“I know they appear ugly.”

“They’re not ugly,” You hum softly, “I’m just sorry you had to go through the pain to receive them.”

Some scars run deeper, ones that don’t mark and marr his skin. The ones that permeate through to his heart, twisting and contorting as they sear into him hotter than any flame. Demons that keep him awake at night as he’s forced to relive the moments he’s received them, times that he’s faced certain death— and perhaps he deserved it. The pain of receiving them was often forgotten by Sanemi. The hurt and damage from each scar would never equate to the feeling of seeing his loved ones slain, from losing his family.

“But each one tells a story,” You continued, smiling softly. Fingertips stroking over the raised scars there, following the damaged skin as you mapped out every curve and ridge. “Each one holds a reason as to why you’re still here.”

Sanemi had never had someone touch him like this before, he’d never been handled with such care. It was at that moment that Sanemi decided he didn’t want you with anyone else, that you were his and only his.

“We all have scars, but some we try to hide more than others.” You hummed.

Fuck it. He thought as he reached around your neck to pull you into a fierce kiss, catching you off guard. His teeth clashed against your soft lips as he fought to deepen in, inexperience shining through his actions as his nose bumped yours roughly. His movements were sloppy and unpractised as he was far too chaste; too eager. Your lips follow along with his to try and guide him, your tongue teasingly laps at the corner of his lips and he does little to stop you. Trying to anticipate your movements as his lips fall open, granting you entrance as you smile against him.

Your fingers splay against his jaw, holding him steady to help slow him down. Moving your lips with purpose as your tongue brushed past his parted ones, delving into his mouth as you swallowed the moans that vibrated at the back of Sanemi’s throat. Tilting your head to deepen the kiss as you felt his arms encircle you to pull you closer, tightening his grip on you as if no matter how close you were it would never be enough.

His still half-hard cock is trapped between your bodies as you shamelessly roll your hips, pressing your lower half against it for some sweet relief as your cunt virtually burned with neglect. You’d never felt so on edge as you were tempted to reach down and press two fingers to your puffy clit to give yourself some respite. An action that didn’t go unnoticed by the perceptive Hashira who broke the kiss to stare between your bodies.

Sanemi’s fingers were warm as they brushed through your messy folds, hiding your face in his neck as you felt his knuckle graze your clit. A whiny, breathless sigh warmed his skin when he felt your tight hole begin to catch against the calloused pad of his finger.

How were you this fucking wet already and he’d barely touched you? Was this all for him?

“Please,” You murmured. Sanemi felt you roll your hips against his hand, as though you were trying to drop yourself down on his finger, eager for stimulation. Granting your wish as he slipped a solo finger inside you, baulking when he felt how warm, wet and tight you were.

Sanemi wasn’t foolish, he knew about sex. But he just had no idea that this is what you looked like down there, what you felt like. How was he supposed to fit his cock inside here when you were this tight? Surely he’d split you in two.

The moan that left your lips was debauched, and the sound surged directly to his cock. Swallowing thickly as he pressed forward again, letting the calloused pad of his finger press against your velvety walls. Trying to draw another noise like that from your throat.

Sanemi was gentle and precise compared to the other men that frequented the establishment, so used to your pleasure being unimportant as they were quick to push into you with little care or decency. Fulfilling their own needs and leaving you a crumpled, fragile mess after with comments on how thankful you should be that they were helping to pay off your debt. Glad that most men that you encountered seemed to only want comfort, a warm body to lay beside so they could fool themselves for a moment that they mattered to someone.

“Is this okay?” His voice was laced with uncertainty, his finger plunging into your tight sex as he grazed your ridged walls.

“Curl it,” You murmured, breaking off into a high-pitched gasp when he brushed against the sensitive spot inside you. Your reaction was an indication he’d found what he’d been searching for as he focused his movements against it. Deft and precise as Sanemi began to pump the lone finger in and out of you, lilac eyes focused on the way your face contorted in pleasure.

“Yeah?” He hummed in satisfaction, “You like that?”

Your cunt clenched around him in response, biting down on your bottom lip as you found yourself rolling your hips in tandem with him, moving one of your hands from his shoulders to slip between your bodies to join his as you pressed slow, precise circles against your needy clit.

“What are you doing?” His voice turned to a deep snarl, brows furrowed as he watched you touch yourself in front of him.

“Touching my clit.” You gasped as he knocked your hand away roughly, moving his thumb to press blindly against your slit to replace it.

“I’ll do it,” He growled, the authoritative lilt to his tone had you trembling as he made rough strokes in an attempt to find your sensitive nub, “There?”

He questioned as he rubbed the junction of your labia, pressing against your folds as you tried to lift your hips to position his hand.

“No,” You murmured, holding his wrist before moving your slender fingers towards his thumb to press the pad of it flat against your clit. Whining on contact as his touch felt instantly better than your own, “Here— can you feel it?”

“Yeah,” Sanemi released the breath he hadn’t realised he was holding in as he began to press tough, persistent circles against it while curling his finger inside you.

“Add another finger, please?” You begged, moving your hands back to his broad shoulders to support yourself as you continued to match his movements.

“Yeah?” He murmured, pressing both fingers against the spongy spot inside you as he began to thrust them languidly, tilting his head back to stop you from shying away from his gaze as he watched your face morph into pleasure, “You like that?”

“So good,” You affirmed, feeling the coil inside you start to wind and tighten as Sanemi focused on your pleasure. Certain your cunt was drooling into his open palm as he followed your movements, pressing deeper each time you tried to roll your hips, “I’m close.”

“Then cum.” His voice commanded, his tone curt and domineering as you found yourself succumbing to the pleasure that threatened to spill over. Your cunt clenched desperately around his digits as you came with a choked gargle of his name, white spots blanking your vision as your entire body convulsed. Sanemi’s other hand splayed flat at the arch of your back to stop you from toppling backwards as he continued to press messy circles into your throbbing clit, prolonging the sensation, “Good girl.” The words had you throbbing as he helped you ride out your bliss.

“I—” You panted, at a loss for words as your nails dug into the delicate skin on his shoulders, leaving crescent-shaped moons in their wake that Sanemi hoped would scar.

“God, you’re so fucking pretty when you cum.” Sanemi grunted, and you had to rip his hand away from your poor sex when the sensation became too much. Already feeling him forcing you towards another—

“You shouldn’t be so good at that, Shinazugawa-sama.” You groaned in satisfaction, pulling back as you noticed his cock practically leaking against his chest from the sight of you. Leaving silvery lines of pre against his skin as he sat hard and ready for you.

“What did I say to call me?” He rasped.

“Sanemi,” You breathed, and the Wind Pillar was certain he would never tire of hearing his name flow from your lips.

Was it normal to fall in love the first night with someone? With a courtesan no less. Sanemi wondered how many men had stepped through the doors of this house with the same question, returning to spend the night with a woman who was only interested in how deep their pockets were. But it somehow felt different with you— the look in your eyes made it feel like it was something more than just a transaction. And well, if it wasn’t Sanemi was positive he’d give every last penny he owned for one more night with you.

“It’s okay if you want to stop,” You smiled gently, hoping that he wouldn’t. Your cunt clenched desperately around nothing as you yearned for him, wanting to feel him stretch you out in the most intoxicating way.

You were certain it was going to hurt judging from the sheer mass that was now resting between your thighs, thick and heady. Feeling the tip almost graze your belly button as you imagined just how deep he would be inside of you. Your cunt fluttered in anticipation as he began to stroke the fat tip of his cock between your messy folds. Feeling them part for him as he nudged against your sensitive clit, making you cry out for him as he repeated the motion.

“Why would I stop?” He bit back, “You’re getting paid aren’t you?”

He hated himself for the words that left his lips, the regret evident on his features the moment he’d uttered them. But it was what he did. Pushing people away before they got too close, before he let them in—

“I’m sorry,” He murmured apologetically, “I didn’t mean—”

“It’s okay,” You cut him off with a small smile, used to hearing far worse as you smoothed a hand through the light hairs that scarred against his chest, “Are you ready?”

And Sanemi was certain he’d never been more prepared for anything in his life, his palms still planted firmly against your hips as he watched you reach down to wrap your palm around his drooling cock.

Holding it upright as you leaned forward to adjust yourself so the building tip was pressed against your right entrance. His fingers were no match for the stretch of the engorged tip as you slowly began to coax him inside. The first inch was painful, a delicious ache swirling in your abdomen as you tried to relax. Inhaling deeply as you gave an experimental roll of your hips, forcing another inch inside as you began to feel the stretch. The protruding veins that forked along his girth did nothing to ease the tension as you could practically feel them throb against your inner walls as you sank lower onto him.

Sanemi wasn’t fairing much better, his pupils blown as he was certain he could see every shade of colour. His grip against your hips bruising now as he tried to think of anything but the sensation of your cunt wrapped around him for the first time. He was barely halfway inside, and now he was positive he wouldn’t last by the time you made it to the base— his balls already drawn up and heavy as he imagined emptying his seed into your ripe cunt.

You were so fucking warm, and drenched. It was making it difficult to think as your slick left creamy rings around the girth of his cock, drooling down to his balls as you soaked his skin. Sanemi found himself becoming lightheaded, blindly pawing for your waist to centre himself. The back of his head knocked against the wooden floor as he readjusted his hips, giving you a few more inches as you moaned at the sensation. Catching yourself with soft palms against his chest as you rolled down into his touch, his stiff cock almost wholly inside you as you felt the messy hairs that sat at his base tickle your clit.

You still for a moment, allowing you both to adjust to the sensation. But it feels like a moment too long for Sanemi, a moment that drives him closer to the desperate release his body already craves. His hefty balls are already tight and pulsing as they threaten to spill into your eager hole.

It’s as though you notice when you start to roll your hips above him. But Sanemi reckons this is worse— your tits sway with your alluring movement, the cool air in the room hits his cock when you rise your hips to pull off him before seating yourself back down and he’s certain you’ll be the death of him. That Uzui will find the shattered remains of his body in this very room as he dies buried deep inside your molten cunt. How had he managed to continue life for so long without feeling this? It’s now the only pleasure he ever wants to indulge in as he watches you intently through blown eyes.

“Are you okay?” You hum with a teasing swirl of your hips and Sanemi has to wet his lips to reply. His tongue rolls over white teeth before clearing his throat, a heavy rumble in his chest as calloused fingers dip into the fat at your hips.

“‘m fine,” It’s all he can muster. Certain if he says more it’ll be over, and Sanemi doesn’t want this to be over, “Fuckin’ tight.”

“You feel so good,” You offer in return, “Stretching me so much—”

And Sanemi isn’t sure he even wants to hear it. Uncertain whether it’s because you have his cock pulsing from your sultry tone that leaves him shaking on the crux of his climax, or that he thinks you’re lying. Another deceitful line you give to all your paying customers.

“Shinazugawa-sama.” You breathe and Sanemi feels his Adam’s apple throb in his throat.

“Sanemi,” He growls, low and domineering, “I said call me Sanemi.”

“Sanemi.” You parrot, and the sound of it has his hips jerking sloppily as he fucks up into you, his name now sounded from your lips like a dull mantra, “Sanemi.”

Your hands are splayed across his chest as you try to keep your movements consistent, hips rolling against him as you ride his cock. Trying to commit the sight to memory as your eyes follow every line and scar that settles across his skin, soft fingertips following them as you ride him. An indication of just how powerful the man beneath you is, the man you’ve brought to his knees.

“Oh, fuck.” You sound out, and Sanemi thinks it’s cute the sound of such a vulgar word spilling from your sweet lips.

And Sanemi wants to make you make more sounds like that, to pull every one from your pretty throat and commit each one to memory. Remembering every saccharine lilt and coo as though he’s conducting his own debauched symphony. Sounds that will comfort him when he thinks of you, of this. He moves his hand from your hip, pressing a thumb against your pelvis before dipping lower. Stroking his digits through your messy slit, and when he touches your clit your body convulses. Hips bucking so wildly on contact his eyes are wide as though he’s done something wrong. Taking his hand to press his fingers back against it as you coax him into touching you there again.

Hunching over him as you try to keep your pace, your movements borderline pathetic as you chase the pleasure of his calloused thumb against your sensitive bud. His eyes watch you curiously as he speeds up the sloppy figure of eights he presses into it, feeling the way your cunt clenches around him in response.

“This is supposed to be for you.” You choke out, unused to your clients even thinking about your pleasure.

“Who says it’s not?” Sanemi scoffs; the sight of you like this is worth every damn penny Uzui is paying, “I want you to come undone for me.”

The dominant, commanding husk to his voice has your pelvis contorting as your body wills itself to unravel on command. Barely able to cry out his name as you find your release, your silky walls clamp down around his cock as they desperately try to milk him of his release. Your nails dig into muscular pectorals as you try to keep yourself upright, to hold onto the single thread of sanity you have left.

But Sanemi’s thumb doesn’t stop against your clit, following your jerky movements as your hips coil and spasm. Keeping his touch firm and persistent as he helps you ride out one climax to have you soaring towards another.

It’s too much, and you’re not sure you can handle it as your hands slip down to wrap around his wrist. Feebly trying to pull his grip away from your sloppy cunt as you watch the muscles in his arm tighten, veins popping out proudly as they fork towards his wrist. Practically snarling as he easily fights your weaker grip, “Don’t.”

And once again he throws you into ecstasy, your body trembling as another intense orgasm surges through your veins. Soaking his cock with your essence as you feel how wet and sloppy you are between your thighs, any friction dissipating as it’s all you can do but pathetically grind yourself against his finger while you ride out your bliss.

“Sanemi,” You whine, unable to hold yourself upright as you feel yourself falling forward onto his chest. Your face nuzzled into the junction of his neck as you trap his muscular arm between your bodies, his thumb still at your overstimulated clit as he gives it a few more lingering swipes, “S’too much.”

And Sanemi has to agree. It’s far too much, but also not enough at the same time. His cock throbs at the feeling of your drenched walls soaking him, fluttering in the aftershocks of your release as he’s certain he’s on the cusp of his own end. Slipping his arm from between your bodies in ease in favour of wrapping both arms around you, pinning you against his chest as he bends both his legs at the knee. Planting his feet on the hardwood floor for stability as he holds you against him.

He catches you by surprise as he begins to thrust up into you. His movements are chaotic and messy, with a deep-set sense of urgency as he chases his release. The sound of skin slapping against skin mixes with the syrupy wetness of your cunt that has your cheeks burning fiery red as you pant and whine against his neck. Mouthing at the thin layer of sweat that sticks to his skin, the salty taste of it mitigating on your tongue as you let him use you for his pleasure.

“Fuck, Sanemi.” Your voice sings out against the column of his throat and his hips give one more rugged jolt as he buries himself inside you to the hilt and coats your inner walls with balmy spurts of cum. The sensation causes heat to plume inside you as you indulge in the sensation as he gives a few more careless thrusts like he’s unable to stop his hips from jerking as he gives you everything he’s got left to give.

Sanemi’s eyes are blown wide, staring up at the ceiling as you move with the rise and fall of his chest. His arms still wound so tightly around you that you’re unable to move, left to bask in the warm afterglow as you cling to him. One of your hands braced against his sternum, feeling for the cadence of his racing heart.

“Are you okay?” You murmur softly when he hasn’t spoken for a while, and you’re met with a delicate kiss to your temple as he tightens his grip.

You’re certain you lay there for hours after, his warmth engulfing you as he traces gentle patterns against the expanse of your back while your fingers cord through his messy hair. Nails grazing against his skin while you feel the pleasure rumble deep in his chest, eyes heavy as sleep threatens to consume you. You shift above him slightly and whine pathetically as you feel his soft cock finally slip from your sloppy hole, the wetness unable to maintain a grip on him as you shudder at the cold air in the room cooling your molten cunt. His thick, potent seed begins to drip from your cunt into thick puddles on his pelvis and onto the floor as his arms tighten possessively around you for the smallest hint of a moment. As though he’d tricked himself into thinking that you were actually his, before realising his foolish mistake.

“I should go.” His voice rumbles, firm and authoritative. A sound that has you moving off him, despite your body’s plea to stay like this just a while longer.

“I hope you enjoyed yourself, Shinazugawa-sama.” You respond, watching as he begins to redress himself. Tucking his cock, still glazed with your drying slick, back into his pants.

You’d hoped he would correct you a final time. Telling you to call him by name as he buttoned the first few buttons of his shirt before tugging his haori back on, but the words don’t come.

You wonder whether it’s because he’s unsure what to say, lingering by the door as though he wants to turn back to give you a proper goodbye. Reaching down to grab your kimono to pull it back over your shoulders.

“Thank you.” He whispers before tugging at the door.

You were hoping it would feel a little less transactional, even though you were certain that this was all it was to him. A coldness now resides in the room that you’re certain you’d never felt before, an uncertain frost that bites away at the fierce burn of your heart. You have to remind yourself of the reason why you’re here, the reason why the Wind Hashira had chosen to lay with you.

The next morning you were surprised to find out just how much Sanemi had left behind that evening. Certain the payment was more than enough to settle your debts and free you from this existence, as you felt the fog of uncertainty that shrouded your time here begin to clear.

You’d hoped that he would’ve left some way to thank him, a forwarding address or at least a note to accompany the payment. But what you didn’t expect was for the Wind Pillar to be waiting at the dark purple curtains for you as you came down the stairs.

[pucksandpower]

Break In, Breakdown

Charles Leclerc x Reader

Summary: when a break in destroys your peace of mind, Charles is determined to do all he can to help you regain it

Warnings: armed forcible entry

You wake with a start, your heart pounding. The sound of shattering glass echoes through the spacious apartment.

You sit up slowly, straining to hear any other noises over the hammering of your pulse. Charles is away for the night, called suddenly to Maranello earlier to test new upgrades.

You’re alone.

Sliding out from beneath the covers, you tiptoe to the bedroom door and ease it open. The living room is cast in shadow, shards of moonlight slicing through the floor-to-ceiling windows. Broken glass glitters across the hardwood. A cool breeze drifts in through the now empty pane.

You freeze, listening. The only sound is the thudding of your heart. Whoever broke in must still be here. You consider your options. The front door is on the other side of the living room — you would never make it. The balcony? No, you’re too high up.

That leaves only one choice. The bathroom.

As soundlessly as you can, you close the bedroom door and lock it, then dash on trembling legs into the en-suite bathroom. You lock this door too, then scramble for your phone. Your hands are slick with cold sweat as you dial Charles’ number.

“Hello?” His voice, groggy with sleep, comes over the line. In the background, you hear the muffled sounds of his hotel room.

“Charles!” You whisper urgently. “Someone broke into the apartment!”

“What?” All traces of sleepiness vanish from his tone. Fabric rustles as he sits up quickly. “Are you okay? Where are you?”

“I’m locked in the bathroom. I heard glass breaking and got scared. I didn’t know what else to do!” Your voice cracks as you struggle to keep it low. Tears blur your vision.

“Shh shh, it’s okay. You did the right thing.” Charles soothes. “Did you see anyone?”

You hug your knees to your chest. “No, the living room was empty when I looked. But they have to still be here!”

A tense silence. Then rapid French. You imagine Charles running a hand through his tousled hair, brow creased in thought.

“The police are on their way,” he says finally. “They’ll be there soon. Just stay hidden and keep talking to me, alright?”

You nod before remembering he can’t see you. “Okay.”

For a few moments, the only sounds are your shaky breathing and the muffled noises of Charles moving around his hotel room. You flinch as a loud bang echoes through the apartment, followed by heavy footsteps. Whoever broke in is still here, and on the move.

“I heard something,” you whisper to Charles. “I think they’re looking for me.”

“It’s going to be okay.” Charles’ voice remains steady, but you hear the undercurrent of fear. “Help is coming. Just stay quiet and-”

He cuts off as the bathroom doorknob rattles violently. You slap a hand over your mouth to hold in a scream.

“Y/N? What was that?” Charles demands.

“They’re trying to get in!” You whimper. “The doorknob ...”

Another bang shakes the door. You scramble into the empty bathtub, trying to make yourself smaller. If they get in here, you have nowhere to go.

“Y/N, listen to me.” Charles speaks urgently. “I need you to stay calm. Breathe. The police will be there any minute.”

You squeeze your eyes shut, tears leaking down your cheeks. “Okay,” you whisper.

The intruder hammers on the door again. Wood splinters — it won’t hold much longer. You think of Charles’ smile, his bright green eyes. You wish more than anything he was here with you now, holding you in his strong arms. But he’s hours away, and can do nothing but listen helplessly as danger looms.

“Charles?” You say softly.

“Yes? I’m right here.” His voice cracks.

“I love you.” You put as much feeling into the words as you can. Just in case they’re your last. “So much.”

“Oh god, Y/N ...” Charles trails off. You hear a muffled sob. “I love you too. More than you can imagine. You mean everything to me.”

The bathroom door splinters open. A masked figure looms in the doorway, gun glinting dully in their hand. Your scream lodges in your throat.

Charles is saying your name, voice panicked. You can’t find the air to respond. This is it. You close your eyes as the intruder raises their gun.

A deafening bang. Your scream. Then … nothing.

When you force your eyes open, the intruder is being detained on the floor. In their place stand two police officers, weapons drawn.

“Madame, are you hurt?” One officer approaches slowly, holstering his gun.

You shake your head mutely. On the phone, Charles is frantically calling your name.

“I’m okay,” you gasp out. “The police are here.”

Charles’ ragged exhale echoes your own shaking breath. You cling to the phone like a lifeline. He murmurs reassuring words as the officers help you from the tub and wrap a blanket around your shoulders.

When you finally end the call, your hands shake so badly you nearly drop the phone. You wish desperately to feel his arms around you.

But the police insist no one can enter until the scene is processed. You wait alone on the sofa, raw fear seeping from your bones and leaving you limp and exhausted. As dawn lightens the shattered window frames, Charles’ car screeches into the street. He’s still in a rumpled t-shirt and pajama pants, hair wild from raking his fingers through it. The moment his gaze lands on you, he’s across the room, gathering you against his chest. You cling to him, finally letting the terrified tears fall.

“It’s okay. I’ve got you. You’re safe now,” he murmurs against your hair.

You breathe him in, the familiar smell of his skin and cologne. Here, wrapped in his embrace, you can almost believe the words are true.

***

Morning light filters through the blinds of Charles’ childhood bedroom, casting stripes across the quilt tucked around you.

It’s strange, being surrounded by remnants of his boyhood. Posters of racing legends. Miniature models of the Ferrari Enzo and Michael Schumacher’s F2002. A framed picture of a beaming preteen Charles standing in front of a gleaming kart. You trail your eyes over the silver trophies lining the shelves. Hard to believe that bright-eyed boy would become your own champion one day.

It seems easier to focus on the distant past than to think about the present.

You’ve barely slept, your body tense as a livewire beneath the covers. Every small noise makes you flinch.

Charles’ arms tighten around you. His chest rises and falls steadily with sleep against your back. Being here, wrapped securely in his embrace, is the only thing that kept hysteria at bay through the long night.

You shift carefully in his arms, turning to study his face. His features are relaxed, lips parted slightly. Dark stubble shadows his jaw. He looks younger like this, the crease between his brows smoothed away. You reach out to brush an unruly lock of hair off his forehead.

At your touch, his brows pinch. Slowly his eyes drift open, blinking against the sunlight. He offers a drowsy smile.

“Hi,” he murmurs.

“Hi.” You try to return the smile, but it wavers. Being awake again means facing the suffocating weight of remembered fear.

Charles’ own smile fades. Propping himself up on one elbow, he reaches to cradle your face in his palm. “How are you feeling?”

You open your mouth to respond, but your throat closes up. You just shake your head, feeling the sting of tears.

“Oh, mon amour.” Charles pulls you against his chest. You cling to him, fighting back sobs.

He begins to slowly stroke your hair. “It’s okay. Let it out.”

You do, great heaving sobs muffled in his t-shirt. He holds you silently, lips moving against your hair in a continuous litany of comfort.

When the storm of weeping passes, you keep your head tucked beneath his chin. His steady heartbeat thumps against your cheek.

“I’m scared,” you whisper finally.

His arms tighten around you. “I know. But I promise, you’re safe here. No one can hurt you.”

You nod against his chest. But the truth haunts you — nowhere feels safe anymore. Not when someone invaded the place you called home. Violated your very sense of security.

Sensing your spiraling thoughts, Charles pulls back. He tilts your chin up until your tearful gaze meets his.

“Listen to me. I will do whatever it takes to make sure you feel safe again. We’ll find a new apartment, one with top of the line security. I’ll hire personal protection to be with you whenever I can’t. Whatever you need, just say the word.”

You search his eyes, finding only earnestness and love shining back. “You’d really do all that for me?”

He brushes his thumb over your cheekbone. “Of course. I’d move heaven and earth for you. Your safety and peace of mind are the most important things in the world to me.”

Fresh tears well in your eyes, but this time touched by gratitude. You lean in to brush a soft kiss over his lips. “Thank you. Just … thank you.”

He smiles tenderly, kissing the tip of your nose. “Always.”

The bedroom door creaks open slowly. Charles’ mother peers in.

“Oh good, you’re awake.” She bustles into the room bearing a heavily laden breakfast tray. “I’ve brought up some breakfast. You both must be famished.”

She settles the tray over your laps before perching on the edge of the bed. Reaching out, she pats your blanket-covered knee.

“How are you holding up, dear?” Her eyes, so like your husband’s, are full of maternal concern.

You muster a shaky smile. “As well as I can be. Thank you again for letting us stay here.”

“Of course, of course!” She waves a hand. “You’re family. Mi casa es su casa, as they say.”

Charles reaches for your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze as he smiles gratefully at his mother. “We really appreciate it, Maman. This means the world to us right now.”

Pascale pats his cheek fondly. “I’m always here if you need me. Both of you.” She stands. “Now, eat up while it’s still warm!”

After the door clicks shut behind Pascale, Charles passes you a mug of hot tea. The chamomile soothes your frayed nerves. Under Charles’ attentive care, you manage to eat a few bites of crepe. But your appetite remains muted, stomach churning with anxiety.

Sensing your lingering unease, Charles sets the tray aside. He shifts down on the bed, resting his head on the pillow beside yours. You roll onto your side facing him.

His hand comes up to trail soothingly along your arm. “Talk to me. What can I do?”

You chew your lower lip. “Just hold me? I’m still feeling really shaky.”

“Of course.” He opens his arms and you nestle against his chest. His steady heartbeat thumps beneath your ear.

You cling to him like a life raft, fighting against the rising tide of panic. “I can’t stop imagining it all happening again. What if they find us again?”

Charles frames your face in both hands. His gaze bores fiercely into yours. “Listen to me. I will never let anyone hurt you. Not here, not anywhere. I promise you that.”

His passionate sincerity helps loosen the iron bands constricting your lungs. You can breathe a little easier.

“Okay.” You whisper. “I trust you.”

He presses a fervent kiss to your forehead. “I’ll do whatever it takes to rebuild that sense of safety for you. For now, just try to rest. You’re exhausted.”

He’s right. Bone-deep fatigue drags at you. But every time you close your eyes, visions of leering masked faces loom in the darkness. You shrink closer to Charles with a whimper.

“Shh, I’ve got you.” His arms tighten around you. “Focus on me, the sound of my voice. Picture us somewhere you feel totally at peace.”

You press your ear over his heart again, letting its steady rhythm center you. “Tell me about it? The peaceful place.”

“Hmm ...” He strokes your hair thoughtfully. “How about a tropical island? Powder-fine sand, so white it’s nearly blinding. The water so perfectly blue and clear, like colored glass. Gentle waves lapping the shore.”

You can picture it perfectly with the aid of his lyrical descriptions. The sun warming your skin, Charles’ hand clasped in yours as you stroll the beach. A light breeze tossing his hair as his laughter mingles with the cries of seabirds.

“There’s a little cabana right on the water, with an open balcony and gauzy curtains fluttering in the wind ...”

Lulled by Charles’ calming voice, you feel your body slowly relax, sinking into the mattress. He continues spinning vivid visions until you finally drift off. Safe in the circle of his arms, nightmares can’t reach you.

When you wake, sunlight slants through the blinds at a different angle.

Afternoon.

You’re curled on your side, Charles a solid weight against your back. His chin rests atop your head, arms wound protectively around you even in sleep.

You snuggle back into his embrace. For the first time since the break in, you feel a spark of hope. With Charles by your side, you know you’ll get through this. He’ll keep you safe.

***

Keys jangle outside the door of your new apartment. You look up from your book with a smile as Charles steps inside, hiding something behind his back.

“What are you up to?” You ask, marking your page. Ever since you moved, Charles has been full of little surprises to help you feel at home.

He grins, eyes glinting. “I have someone who wants to meet you.” From behind his back he produces a tiny black Doberman puppy with soulful dark eyes. It squirms eagerly in his hands.

You gasp, immediately reaching for the pup. Its pink tongue darts out to lick your fingertips. “You didn’t!”

Charles laughs. “I wanted to get you a guard dog, one specially trained to protect you. She’ll go everywhere with us once she’s fully grown.”

Cradling the puppy to your chest, you nuzzle into her silky fur. Her tail thumps happily against your arm. “Well aren’t you just the sweetest little guard dog ever,” you coo. Looking into her deep brown eyes, one name springs to mind.

“I think I’ll call her Princess Fluffykins.” You grin up at Charles.

He rubs a hand over his mouth to hide a smile. “Princess Fluffykins it is.”

The newly christened Princess Fluffykins snuggles into you with a contented whine. Over the next few weeks she rarely leaves your side. At night she curls up at the foot of the bed, a tiny furry protector. During the day she trots after you from room to room, always alert for any signs of danger.

But none of her vigilance stops her from demanding regular belly rubs or stealing socks to play with. Princess Fluffykins she may be, but she’s still a puppy at heart.

As the weeks pass, she sprouts into a leggy adolescent, all huge paws and awkward angles. But her devotion never wavers. She accompanies you everywhere, even to Charles’ races.

The first time you arrive at a circuit with Princess Fluffykins straining at her leash, you get some strange looks. People eye the muscular dog warily, giving you a wide berth. Princess Fluffykins has matured into an intimidating specimen, despite the sparkly pink collar now circling her thick neck.

Charles just grins, ruffling her perked ears. “I know she looks scary, but I promise she’s a softie,” he assures the dubious Ferrari mechanics. Right on cue, Princess Fluffykins flops to her back, tail wagging furiously until someone gives in and rubs her belly. Charles winks at you. “See?”

When Charles disappears into briefings or practice sessions, Princess Fluffykins patrols tirelessly by your side. She positions herself between you and anyone who approaches, watchful eyes tracking each stranger. But the moment she detects true danger, her demeanor shifts in an instant.

One particularly eventful race weekend, a drunken fan gets belligerent shoving past you for an autograph. Princess Fluffykins is on him in a flash, knocking him back with a deep bellow. He recoils instantly, throwing his hands up and stammering apologies. You cling to Princess Fluffykins’ collar as she nudges you protectively behind her muscular bulk.

“Good girl,” you murmur, stroking her bristling fur until she relaxes. Over Princess Fluffykins’ broad head, you give the chastened fan a polite smile. Message received.

As you make your way to the garage, passerby give you and your four-legged bodyguard a wide berth. But Princess Fluffykins ignores the murmurs, attention fixed devotedly on you. Her responsibilities may be serious, but everything about her remains hilariously contradictory — the bejeweled collar, fluffy fur, even her tendency to doze off using Charles’ race boots as a pillow. You wouldn’t have her any other way.

Over time, Princess Fluffykins becomes as much a fixture at races as Charles himself. On mornings when you’re feeling anxious, you clip on Princess Fluffykins’ leash and walk the familiar route to the paddock, drawing comfort from each heavy footstep echoing your own. The bulk of her pressing against your legs makes you feel sheltered … protected.

When Charles is busy with sponsor events and interviews, Princess Fluffykins is your constant companion. She positions her large frame strategically to keep you shielded from jostling fans in the crowded paddock. Her intimidating presence and rumbling growl are enough to make even boisterous enthusiasts reconsider approaching too closely at the wild after parties.

At night in hotel rooms, Princess Fluffykins curls up on the foot of the bed, ever alert. The sound of her steady breathing soothes you to sleep. And in new cities where sounds and shadows put you on edge, her solid weight pinning your feet beneath the blankets makes you feel anchored.

On bad nights when phantom terrors jerk you awake, Princess Fluffykins’ huge head rises at your distress, the light glinting off her collar. She pads up the bed to nuzzle your cheek until the panic fades.

Over time, Princess Fluffykins’ watchful presence steadies something deep inside you. Late at night, her snores harmonize with Charles’ to drive away the ghosts. Her grinning face waiting eagerly by the door when you return from a quick trip to the shops makes your apartment feel like home again. When you scratch beneath her chin, for a moment you forget about the threat, remembering only softness.

On the anniversary of the break in, emotions run close to the surface. You’re quiet on the drive to the paddock, hands knotted tightly in Princess Fluffykins’ fur. But when the time comes to part ways with Charles for the day, you find courage in Princess Fluffykins’ wiggly butt and lolling tongue. You give Charles an extra fierce hug, breathing him in.

“Love you,” you murmur into his shoulder.

Charles cradles your face in his hands, eyes serious. “I love you too. We’ve made it through so much this past year. You amaze me more every day.”

You lean into him a moment longer before braving a tremulous smile. “Go show them what you’ve got.”

With Princess Fluffykins a steady presence at your side, the day passes in a blur of heat and roaring engines. When at last Charles appears, wreathed in sweat and victory, you leap into his arms with a joyful shout. Laughing, he swings you around before setting you down to ruffle Princess Fluffykins’ ears.

“I think this calls for celebrating, what do you say?” His eyes are bright with triumph and love.

You lean down to adjust Princess Fluffykins’ glittering collar before twining your fingers through your husband’s. “I say absolutely.”

Though the path forward held both beauty and pain, with loyal souls like them by your side, you never had to walk it alone.

[leaawrites]

Coincidence (MV1)

Max Verstappen x fem!reader

Summary: a rare moment of peace is disturbed by none other than his ex-girlfriend.

Warnings: angst, indicating cheating (emotionally), this is all fiction, none of this is real and I don't mean to attack anyone by this.

Wordcount: 0.5k

Masterlist, Short n'Sweet Series

A text was all it took for everything to change again.

With her head on his chest, finally breathing for a second, one text had the ability to make her run again. Max was focused on the movie playing on the screen, that he didn’t even notice the vibration of his phone on the coach, his hand mindlessly playing with the hem of her shirt. He didn’t notice the second message. He didn’t even notice her budging him to gain his attention.

It wasn’t up until she had enough and moved a bit to take the phone herself that he looked away from the TV. Watching her take his phone and unlocking it. It was never a problem for them in the time they were dating, using the other’s phone for texting their parents or friends or googling whatever. It was always just about which one was nearer.

“Who is it?” Max asked, moving his fingers up and down her chest.

Looking at the contact name and message for a second longer to make sure she read everything correctly, she finally answered, “Kelly. She says P misses you.” At the mention of her name, Max took the phone from her hands. She wasn’t too sure if it was because of Kelly or P. She hoped the latter, but with the way he would still step away from her whenever they met Kelly at a party was making her doubt herself more and more.

What a coincidence that she missed him now when Y/n finally had him for herself in a long time. No racing, no meeting, just them. And her.

Lifting her head up, Max stood up, walking out of the room and dialing her number in the process of leaving his girlfriend.

Max talked for longer than usual on the phone, all while Y/n was left by herself, the TV only being a background noise to not make the thoughts get too loud.

“I’m gonna meet P and Kelly for brunch tomorrow,” Max announced, walking past her, kissing her head and continuing his path into his gaming room.

All of their freedom stolen once again.

She sat there, watching the screen but not the show. She was watching her life flying past and soon enough she was laying next to him in bed, wide awake. Hearing his voice vibrating on his bedside table, her name probably lighting up the screen. Whatever it was, Y/n was sure she wouldn’t be one knowing. Whatever effort she put into the relationship to make it work and keep it safe and hidden from the media, it would all be over once he came back the next day from brunch. He would only be half of the person she used to know and love.

The next morning Y/n without Max by her side. The bed was cold and empty. He must’ve been gone for quite some time already. He hadn’t even asked if she wanted to join them.

Turning on her phone, the first thing she saw shouldn’t be surprising.

Headline: Formula 1 Star Max Verstappen seen out and about with ex girlfriend Kelly Piquet and her daughter Penelope. Is there an old romance brewing once again?

She couldn’t blame them. Barely anyone knew that they were dating, Max wanting to keep it private for her own safety.

What a coincidence.

[solarlunarsstuff]

·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩

☆ Headcannons With Mike Schmidt ☆

Synopsis: This is basically abt Mike Schmidt cuz yes- (sfw and nsfw).

Tw: Dacryphilia, thigh riding, fingering, fluff n smut, switch!Mike, switch!Reader, manhandiling, orgasm denial, squirting, dumbification, and cuddling.

A/n: Abby also catches the bus in this lil drabble, ots also short I'm sorry :(, anyway. Enjoy this breedable man's hdcs!!! ♡♡

·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚

(SFW HDCS)

☆ First of all, you've both been friends for years, he had given you the keys to his house for the purpose of trusting you

☆ You got up early to check on him, but by that time Abby had already gotten to school by the bus

☆ You both would cuddle in the morning before he left for his agonizing night of work

☆ You would also cook for the poor man so he wouldn't be left on an empty stomach

☆ You've always remembered to give him goodbye kisses before he would start the car

☆ Once he got to work, he would always keep a picture of you in his wallet, either way, he loved how pretty you were

☆ Mike would slowly eat his lunch made from you.

☆ Every single type of affection you did to him would make him melt

☆ And once he got home he would shower you with kisses

☆ On the lips, hands, neck, anything would work for him as long as you were in his protective arms

☆ He even got a bit risky at the dinner table where Mike, Abby, and you.

☆ Mike would rest his hand on your thigh while you both would listen to Abby talk about her "friends" and drawings

☆ Abby started to stick on you, drawing you and Mike holding hands with some colorful background

☆ Mike has always loved you, ever since he saw you in preschool

☆ He may still be a bit nervous around you but still yet, he lived for your love

☆ He would often give you hugs from behind when your cooking with his bedhead, tank top, and sweats

·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚

(NSFW HDCS)

☆ Morning sex, all the way

☆ It's like you'll come to his house and he would act all needy and would beg for you to ride him

☆ This happens so much that you started to go dumb over his dick

☆ You would obviously agree and lose track of time and he ends up late for work

☆ Mike is so obsessed that near the end of his shift he would call you to check in but it would end up in phone sex

"Yeah, lemme' hear that fuckin' cunt-fuuuuckk"

☆ He would breathe out while his throbbing cock was laying in his calaused hands

"Go on. Finish f' me? Mhmm, that's it..."

☆ Mike would walk you through it and cooed at any noise that came out of your body

"Shiiiit- can't wait to break that fuckin' pussy when I get home.."

☆ Ohh boy, you knew he would absolutely fuck you up

☆ You also knew that when he gets home from shifts, he would get a bit madder each night

☆ You didn't mind, like at all.

☆ Mike was drilling his dick straight into your puffed up cunt, not letting up to let you breathe

☆ You've told him so many times that when he comes home mad you get a bit worried but he brushes it off

☆ Besides that, he loves when you take control too

☆ Having him not shutting up when he was being to loud

☆ Grabbing the opportunity to shove your panties in his mouth

☆ Mike is so far into bliss that he lolled his tongue out to let you spit in his mouth

☆ He calls you whore, you call him slut. Either or you both love degrading each other

☆ Even if he's not in the mood he'll let you hump his thigh so it's not as messy

☆ But it ends in him finger fucking you

"Aww, poor baby wants my fat cock in her? Well to fucking bad, deal with it you fucking whore.."

☆ Mike was the person that had founded your G-spot, making you squirt everytime but sometimes wouldn't let his poor baby finish :(

☆ He would always lick and suck it off of his fingers and helped you wash up

☆ He was the one that made you want more

☆ Mike Schmidt was the only man on earth that could make you come as hard on and around his cock

《☆♡☆》

[autumnrory]

saw my high school german teacher at the wedding shower this morning (should’ve occurred to me that he would be there since i knew he would be at the wedding) and it’s much more embarrassing to have to answer a former teacher when they ask what’s going on with you and you’ve got nothing going for you so i wish i had been prepared to have to deal with that today and not two months from now but anyway we’re in a mutual follow on instagram so he’s like “all i know about is your daily outfit pictures” and i was just like “that’s all there is!”

[riality-check]

Steve, realistically, shouldn’t even be at this show. He doesn’t care about the band, he didn’t want to make the drive, and he had to bring Anna along because he couldn’t find a babysitter.

But he was going to suck it up to go with Dustin, who immediately bought tickets to see his favorite band when they went on sale. Who called Steve this morning to inform him, somehow both solemnly and frantically, that he had the worst food poisoning known to man, and, that until he stopped puking and shitting at the same time, he could not leave the bathroom.

Steve very much did not need to know that.

With Dustin went the rest of the Babysitters’ Club, all of them having eaten the same shady pizza and suffering the consequences. The only exception was Mike, lactose intolerant but cursed to take care of his idiot friends.

He texted Steve to ask if he had extra bleach. Steve dropped it outside the house because no way in hell was he entering that building.

Dustin assured him, amidst too much detail and shockingly disgusting background noise, that both tickets shouldn’t go to waste, and with no one able to babysit Anna, Steve should take advantage of both.

So, here he is. Standing in the first level - Dustin couldn’t get floor tickets, thank God - of a show for a metal band he has no intention of ever listening to and holding his four-year-old daughter, who has bright pink ear defenders looped around her neck in preparation for when it gets really, really loud.

“When are they starting?” she asks for the fourth time in as many minutes, with a sigh too big for her little body.

“In a few minutes,” Steve says, keeping an eye on the stage, where he watches the crew set up. Mad respect for them hustling so hard. He could never.

The seats are slowly filling up, and Steve feels a little sad for the first opener, a little sad that they don’t have a full house for their set.

A group of four guys takes the seats right next to Steve, with a pale, long-haired, big-eyed guy right next to him. He’s got tattoos on his arms and rings on all his fingers and a silver bar through his upper ear.

And he’s arguing emphatically with his friend next to him.

“I’m telling you, American Psycho is more recognizable!” he says, hands flying. Steve discreetly makes sure he and Anna aren’t within striking distance. “Not to mention cheaper!”

“A prop chainsaw,” his friend - a short white guy with shorter but equally wild hair - says, “can’t possibly be that hard to find by tomorrow.”

“We already have the axe!”

“I’m with Eddie,” the big white guy at the end of their group says. “I’m a sucker for American Psycho.”

“Okay, but I’m the guy who has to use the props,” the fourth friend, a Black guy with short braids who looks annoyed at this conversation, like they’ve had it before. “And I think I’d have more fun with the chainsaw.”

Eddie - the guy with long hair and heavy jewelry and hands with a mind of their own - rolls his eyes. It’s a full body movement, one that has him spinning to face Steve. When he does, his face cycles through a myriad of emotions too fast for Steve to really track.

“Hi, pretty boy,” he says. His eyes then dart down to Anna, who stares at him with her head cocked to the side. “Pretty dad. Dad. Pretty. Hi.”

“Eddie,” the short guy cautions.

“Yeah, sorry, anyway, can you be a tiebreaker for us?”

“Sure,” Steve says. Anna squirms, so he lets her out of his lap to stand, holding her hand all the while. “What do you need?”

“American Psycho or Texas Chainsaw Massacre?” the big guy asks.

“You gotta give him context.”

“No, I don’t, Jeff.”

The guy who said he’d be using the props - whatever that means - rolls his eyes and stops fighting.

“What’s American Psycho?” Anna asks, choosing the best time to pay attention to the conversation, like always.

“A movie you’re too young to see,” Steve says. “And the one I’m picking out of those two.”

“Oh, thank you,” Eddie says, using a tone that better fits Steve saving his drowning dog or something. He then turns to the rest of his friends and says, “I fucking told you!”

Anna gasps. “You’re not s’posed to say that!”

Jeff smothers a laugh behind his hands, while the other three guys stare at Anna, half confused, half admiring.

Eddie clears his throat, looking significantly abashed. "Sorry, Miss-"

"Anna," she says.

"Anna," Eddie finishes. Then he turns to Steve. "And you are?"

"Steve. No Mister for me though. I might be a dad, but I'm not that old."

"You are old, Daddy," Anna says.

Steve frowns down at her, where she stands at his feet. She's smiling, mischievous like she always is when she says something along these lines. "I'm not that old."

"Yeah you are! You're like, you're like, like, fifteen."

Jeff gives up on hiding his laughter.

"I'm older than fifteen," Steve says gently, trying not to laugh.

Anna’s jaw drops. “You are?”

“Thank God for that,” Eddie mutters, then shuts his jaw with an audible click.

Steve tried to come up with an answer for that, but someone comes on a mic and starts playing the drums, so he moves the defenders over Anna’s ears and pays attention to the show instead.

It's... fun, he guesses. Fun if he were into it, maybe. The first opener has a lot of energy, even if the music isn't melodic enough for Steve's taste. He finds himself tapping along to the steady beat, moving slightly in his seat to the music.

It's nice background noise. He'd put this on while he grades papers. It's steady enough to fill his head but doesn't have a whole lot of lyrics he could get distracted by and sing along to.

Eddie and his friends, meanwhile, are having the time of their lives. The short guy - Gareth, Steve thinks his name is - mimes the drum part of each song with startling accuracy. Archie jumps up and down, Jeff absolutely screams along, and Eddie-

Anna stares up at Eddie, eyes wide and jaw slacked as she watches him bang his head to the music.

Steve almost snaps a picture of it, this little moment, before the second song ends and Eddie snaps out of his zone.

He shakes the hair out of his face, then looks down at Anna, who's still staring at him. "What?"

She cocks her head to the side in a mirror of his. "What was that?"

"What was what?"

"The," she pauses, then starts shaking her head really hard, side to side. Steve puts a hand on her shoulder before she slams into the chairs in the row in front of them.

Eddie laughs. "The headbanging?"

"Yeah," Anna says, nodding.

"It's a way I move to the music," Eddie explains.

"Like dancing?"

"Sort of," Eddie says. "It's easier. I look stupid when I dance."

"You're not s'posed to say that," Anna tells him solemnly. "Right, Daddy?"

Steve meets Eddie's eyes. Even with the lights down, they're big and pretty and reflective, and Steve is going to kick himself so hard if he chickens out before he can get his number.

"Right," he says, still looking at Eddie. "We're not supposed to call ourselves stupid."

"Sorry," Eddie whispers.

"Don't be."

Anna tugs on Steve's hand, then Eddie's. "Teach me."

"Anna," Steve cautions.

"Can you please teach me?" she corrects.

Eddie glances down at Anna, then back up at Steve. "If it's-"

"Go ahead," Steve says because Eddie has more than passed the vibe check at this point.

Eddie crouches down as a new song starts up, and while Steve can't hear what he's telling her, he sees her smile, bright as day.

By the last song of the first opener, Anna is headbanging along with Eddie, off-beat in the say little kids always are but more than making up for it with effort.

Steve gives into the impulse to take a picture.

When the first opener finishes, Steve picks Anna back up and takes her ear defenders off.

"Woah," she says. "Can I keep them-"

"Nope," Steve says. "They stay on when the music is on. You heard it fine, didn't you?"

"Yeah, but you-"

"I have my earplugs in," Steve says, pointing at them.

"So do I," Eddie says, and when he moves his hair back, sure enough, there are black earplugs nestled in his ears.

"You don't seem like the kind of guy to wear earplugs," Steve says.

"You don't seem like the kind of guy to come of a metal show," Eddie counters.

Anna climbs out of Steve's arms and onto his back, where she loops her arms around his shoulders and just hangs, like she does sometimes when she gets bored.

Weirdo kid, Steve thinks affectionately.

"That's because I'm not," Steve says. "I was supposed to come with a friend, but he got sick."

"Yikes," Eddie says. "You coming tomorrow, too?"

"I am," Steve says. "Are you?"

Eddie raises his eyebrows, like he didn't expect Steve to ask that. "Yeah, we'll be here. Not in these seats, though."

The lights go back down before Steve can ask what he means by that. He reaches behind him, scoops Anna back down on the ground, and puts her ear defenders on by the time the second opener strikes a scary-sounding opening chord.

Anna doesn't look scared at all. From the moment the music starts, she looks up at Eddie, and when he starts headbanging, she does, too.

Yup. Steve has effectively created a monster.

He contemplates, if Dustin is fine by tomorrow, skipping out on the show and giving his ticket to Anna, but that means not seeing Eddie again.

He really wants to see Eddie again, even if he won’t have the same seats.

Whatever that means.

Steve decides not to focus on that. He decides instead to focus on the moment. He listens to the music. He lets Anna take his hand and dance with it. He bops his head along with hers, but not too hard because he can’t risk aggravating his whiplash.

He enjoys the show, even if it’s not his cup of tea. It’s easy to enjoy the show, with Eddie next to him. It’s easy to enjoy his wild hair and pretty jewelry and big eyes and contagious enthusiasm.

It’s easy to see the way Eddie looks at him.

It’s also very easy, after the venue clears and Anna falls asleep in the car on the way home, to forget to ask for his number.

Shit.

(Part 2 is alive!!)

[ttsukiimi]

˗ˏˋDOUBLE STUFFED ! ´ˎ˗

୨୧⋆ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 ⎯ Irritating neighbors are never a good thing. Then how come having both of them inside you feels so good?

୨୧⋆ 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 ⎯ gojo x reader x geto, smut (mdni), 3some, unprotected sx, doggy, oral (male receiving), multiple 0rgasms, slight dumbification, slight f!ngering, slight slapping, slight mean!satoru, both at once, fac!al, overstim, reader referred to as (princess, baby)

୨୧ ⋆ 𝐚/𝐧 ⎯  the pain I went thru to post this…

As a tired college student, a fair number of things annoyed you. Loud children and their negligent parents, unpleasant people, your English professor who seemed to give out a ton of homework each day. But nothing compared to how irritated you were by your neighbors.

Satoru and Suguru.

While most girls would kill to be within ten feet of their presence, let alone live by them, what they didn't know were how loud and uncaring they could be. And that included the way they brought a different girl to their apartment each day dressed in skimpy shorts and a tight crop top—they seemed to have a type.

Though, the real anger within you only began to boil as they went on with their daily cycle. You always found yourself wondering if it was really that good to have them screaming and moaning in such a way that you could hear them clearly from your room.

Not that you ever wanted to find out, of course.

And today was no different. You could hear the banging of the headboard, her moans and cries of please, the lewd smack of their bodies—how thin were these walls?

You sighed, closing your textbook shut, concluding your 'studying' for the day even though you hadn't really even done anything. You had promised to finally complain to them today about all the noise, and you were sure you were doing the whole complex a favor.

By the time the sounds ceased, your statement was complete. Sure, the two males may be obnoxious, but they were damn attractive. You made sure to rehearse your sentence several times before you stood at their door.

Knock, knock.

Suguru's head swiveled to the source of the tapping, thinking to himself if their fling had forgotten something. He looked at Satoru and the male only shrugged, mouthing an "I don't know" quietly to him.

Upon opening the door, his eyebrow quirked upwards in confusion. You were a pleasant surprise to him.

Yours sprang up in embarrassment as you weren't expecting him to be shirtless. You fiddled with your hands, gaze darting anywhere but the man in front of you.

Tilting his head, Suguru leaned against the doorway, and smiled in amusement. Everything about him was so compelling—his long, luscious black hair, how he towered over you, his built physique—you didn't realize you were gawking.

"Well?"

"T-The noise," you started, clearing your throat. "Could you keep it down?"

Satoru, stuffing his face with post-nut sweets, snickered in the background, and they both feigned ignorance. The man in front of you hummed and scratched his head playfully.

"I don't recall there being any noise,"

And, while you would have found this entertaining if you were one of their little toys, you weren't. Your arms crossed over your chest, inadvertently pushing your breasts up, and his eyes shamelessly drunk in the sight.

Suguru had always found you desirable, finding himself thinking about the girl next door, even while he was balls deep in some random. But he made sure to hide that, even from Satoru, his bestest friend.

“Look,” you sighed, rubbing your temple. “I need to study and your ‘activities’ keep distracting me. Just, please—“

“Study?” Suguru questioned, his gaze searing as he looked down at you. “Princess, from what I heard yesterday, you were doing more than studying.”

And that’s when it clicked. Your cheeks flushed with heat.

It’s true. Yesterday, you’d abandoned your studying for something more…rewarding. Your fingers were stuffed deep inside your cunt, pumping in and out, while you moaned at the sweet pleasure. Thinking now, maybe you were too loud.

Satoru suddenly appeared behind Suguru and pushed him aside. He was aiming to grab your arm to pull you in but his friend nudged him in the rib.

“You’ll scare her off, move.”

Suguru then looked at you, smiling a little. “How about a bet?”

You quipped at the idea.

“We have a little fun with you, and in return we promise to be quiet.”

How could you say no to such a promising deal?

But it was all we, we, we. There was no way you could take both of them at once.

However, as you found yourself under both men, their eyes filled with lust and desire, perhaps you could.

"Satoru," you whimpered, watching the white-haired man take his painfully hard cock out of his sweats and pump it.

He grinned at you, sliding the tip over your lips, smearing his pre all over your mouth. "Think you'd look better with cum all over that pretty face."

They had you on your knees, each taking either the front or back. Suguru teasingly glided his tip up and down your pussy while Satoru held you up by your hair, both men pushing themselves into you in tandem.

Behind you, Suguru sucked in a breath—one thrust into you had his mind fuzzy and had him yearning for more. You were even more addicting than he thought you would be.

Quickly, he found a pace, drilling his impressively sized cock in and out of your warmth. "Fuck," Satoru huffed, feeling how your throat constricted around him and you gagged, looking up at him with teary, pleading eyes.

He scoffed, cocky grin widening. "No breaks, princess."

It was like you could feel every vein lining him once he started to move, your jaw locking in order to accommodate the sheer girth and largeness, more tears pouring down your cheeks.

"Don't break her," Suguru chuckled, large hand taking hold of your hips to steady his, the impact of his thrusts multiplying tenfold. Each drive had you shrieking out in a delirious mix of pain and pleasure, not to mention the fact that both men were set on making you feel good.

"Can't promise that; her mouth's so fucking warm," Satoru murmured back, using his thumb to wipe away a blend of saliva and pre-cum from the corner of your lips. "Keep sucking like that 'n I might just have to keep you."

With each ram into you Suguru's balls smacked against your clit pleasurably, stimulating the nub of nerves in a way that made your vision blurry with stars. You choked on your moans, the sounds vibrating onto the cock in your mouth and sparking the feeling of his climax.

Satoru groaned and pulled out, twitching as hot spurts of his seed dripped onto your face, down your lips and onto your lolled tongue.

"Told you I could last longer."

"Oh, shut up. She hasn't even came yet Mr. 'I'll have her orgasm 5 times.'"

Guaranteed, Suguru could be a little absurd when making bets like this, but that was a promise he could keep.

Over the course of the next hours and so, the two men had you in multiple positions, ones you didn't even know exist nor could be executed. Your mind was blurry by then, fogged by the multiple highs they forced out of you and your poor cunt, though even then they made sure this position stuck in your mind.

This time, you'd be having both of them. Both at once—not one in one hole and one in the other—both.

Satoru kneeled by your left and Suguru by you right, both males with their cocks in hand. You lie there, hopeless, your breathing steady yet uneven at the same time.

Slowly, one entered, now doing so easily with how much they had stretched you out. Then, as slow as the first one, slid in the other. The feeling was so much—too much for such a fucked-out mind.

You couldn't even process who was doing what, just noticed a big hand around your neck, squeezing lightly. "Eyes open, baby." Suguru's soft voice sounded, a low hum that made your body shudder.

It was thrust after thrust, drive after drive of two huge cocks, now both at once. "Hng—can't! N-no more!" you mewled, gripping at the sheets, anything that would keep your sweat-sheened body from rising off the bed. Satoru grasped your hips in a bruising grip, one that would surely leave red blemished for days to come, and snarled, white hair sticking to his forehead.

"You'll take all of it. Only fucking done when we say so." Then came a hot slap to the side of your ass, the sound rippling throughout their apartment.

They stretched you to the hilt, a point where you never thought you'd reached. Your stomach churned in pleasure, body feeling weightless, and there it was—your fifth orgasm of the day.

With the green light of your own, the two men gritted their teeth as they were swept up in pleasure. So swept up that, they didn't even notice how their seed was pumping into your already battered cunny.

Though, once they came to, both men couldn’t care less, too indulged in the double stuffed sight in front of them.

[xo100]

hi can i have a request a story about life where lando and his ex finally get back together again 🥹

Unfinished business- LN4

*:･ﾟ Summary/request: request by anon as you can read above this!

*:･ﾟ Word count: 1581

masterlist / community / request

౨ৎ

Lando Norris didn’t mean to fall in love with her. Not really. It just happened somewhere between late-night calls from different parts of the world and the quiet mornings they shared over coffee, bleary-eyed and content. For two years, they had built something beautiful. Something fragile. And like many fragile things, it shattered.

It had been a year since they parted ways. A quiet, mutual decision born from exhaustion, distance, and the demands of their individual lives. She had her career, a demanding one that required its own brand of discipline and attention. And Lando, of course, was always on the move, his life dictated by the calendar of Formula 1. It wasn't anyone's fault. There was no dramatic fight, no harsh words. Just the aching realization that, for now, their lives didn’t fit together the way they once had.

So they let go. They hugged each other goodbye in her quiet London flat, the kind of hug that lingered a little too long, with an unspoken understanding that maybe this wasn’t forever, that maybe one day they would find their way back to each other.

A year had passed since that night.

-

She scrolled through her Instagram feed absentmindedly, stopping when she saw his latest post—a sun-drenched photo of Lando standing by his car, all wide smiles and windswept hair. Her thumb hovered over the screen, hesitating, before double-tapping. The small heart icon appeared, a familiar pang settling in her chest. It had become a ritual at this point—liking his posts, reading his captions, sometimes even dropping a comment when she felt brave enough. And he did the same, always. As if this silent conversation on social media was their only connection left.

She never stopped missing him. Some days it was just a quiet hum in the background of her life, a dull ache that she had grown used to. Other days, it hit her like a wave, out of nowhere, leaving her breathless and wondering how she had ever let him go.

On the other side of the world, Lando felt the same. He never admitted it out loud, not even to his closest friends, but she was never far from his thoughts. He found himself checking his phone too often, waiting for those tiny signs that she was still there, still watching, still caring. Every time her name appeared in his notifications—whether it was a simple like or a playful comment—his heart gave a small, traitorous leap.

They weren’t together anymore, but they were never really apart.

-

The first time they saw each other again after the breakup, it was at a race. Lando had known she might be there, but nothing could have prepared him for the moment their eyes met across the paddock. For a split second, the world around him seemed to blur, everything but her fading away. She looked the same but different—more poised, more confident, but with that same light in her eyes that had always drawn him in.

Her heart stuttered when she saw him, the familiar ache resurfacing. God, he looked good. The year had been kind to him. His hair was longer, his smile somehow brighter. But there was something else, something in the way his eyes softened when they landed on her.

They didn’t approach each other right away. Both too unsure of what to say, too aware of the unresolved feelings still hanging between them like a weight neither could lift. But eventually, they found themselves standing side by side, in the way that used to be so natural. And for a moment, it almost felt like old times.

“Hey,” he said softly, his voice barely audible over the noise of the paddock.

“Hey,” she replied, her heart racing.

The silence that followed wasn’t awkward, but it was heavy. Heavy with everything unsaid, everything they had tried to bury over the past year.

“How’ve you been?” he asked, though the question felt painfully inadequate.

“Good. Busy, you know… work and everything,” she said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, a nervous habit he remembered all too well.

“Yeah… same.” He gave a small nod, eyes searching her face for something—anything—that would tell him if she had moved on. If she had forgotten him.

But she hadn’t. And neither had he.

-

The weeks after that encounter were… confusing, to say the least. They started texting again, slowly at first. Just little things—a funny meme, a quick ‘good luck’ before his races, or a random thought that reminded her of him. But it quickly became more than that. The conversations stretched longer, the topics more personal. They talked about the things they hadn’t talked about during their relationship—how hard it had been to let go, how much they missed each other, how they hadn’t really stopped caring.

One night, after a long conversation, Lando found himself staring at his phone long after the screen had gone dark. He couldn’t do this anymore. He couldn’t keep pretending that he was okay without her. He had tried. God, he had tried. But no matter how many races he won, no matter how many new cities he visited, there was always this empty space where she used to be.

And she felt it too. Every time she saw his name light up her phone, her heart leapt. Every time she saw a post of his, she couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to reach out and just say it—to admit that she still loved him.

The breaking point came on a rainy night in London, when the loneliness felt unbearable. She was scrolling through her messages with him, re-reading old texts from when they were still together. Before she could overthink it, she sent a message.

I miss you.

-

Lando’s phone buzzed on his nightstand, the soft glow cutting through the darkness of his hotel room. He reached for it, half-asleep, but when he saw her name, he was suddenly wide awake. He stared at the message for what felt like an eternity, his heart racing.

He had missed her too. Every single day.

Before he could second-guess himself, he typed a response.

I miss you too.

The three little dots that indicated she was typing appeared, then disappeared, and then appeared again. Finally, another message came through.

Can we talk? In person?

His heart skipped a beat.

Yes. When?

-

They met in a small café, tucked away from the prying eyes of the world. It was quiet, intimate, the kind of place where people went to have real conversations. The kind of place where they had once spent hours together, laughing and talking about nothing and everything.

When she walked in, Lando felt like the air had been knocked out of him. She looked nervous, just like he felt. But there was something else in her eyes too—hope.

They sat down, and for a few moments, neither of them spoke. It was like they were both afraid to say the wrong thing, to shatter the delicate balance they had found themselves in.

“I don’t know where to start,” she admitted with a small laugh, breaking the tension.

Lando smiled softly, his fingers tapping lightly against the side of his coffee cup. “I’ve been trying to figure that out too.”

They fell into silence again, but it wasn’t uncomfortable this time. It was just… heavy. With everything they had left unsaid over the past year. Finally, Lando looked up, his voice quiet but steady.

“I’ve never stopped thinking about you,” he said, his words hanging in the air between them. “I tried to move on, I really did. But no matter what, it always came back to you.”

Her breath hitched, and she looked away, blinking back tears. “I haven’t been able to move on either,” she whispered. “I thought… I thought maybe it was just me, that maybe I was holding onto something that was already gone.”

“It’s not gone,” Lando said firmly, reaching across the table to take her hand in his. “It never was.”

For a long moment, they just sat there, holding each other’s gaze, holding each other’s hands, letting the weight of their feelings settle between them.

“I still love you,” she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. “I never stopped.”

“I love you too,” Lando replied, his thumb gently brushing against her skin. “I never stopped.”

-

The decision to get back together wasn’t made in that moment. They knew it wouldn’t be that simple. There were still challenges to face, still things they needed to figure out. But what they both knew for sure was that they couldn’t keep pretending anymore. They couldn’t keep acting like they were better off apart, because they weren’t. Not really.

The rest of that night was spent talking, laughing, and crying. They laid everything out on the table—the fears, the regrets, the hopes for the future. It wasn’t perfect, but it was real, and it was honest.

When they finally left the café, the rain had stopped, leaving the streets slick and glistening under the soft glow of the streetlights. Lando walked her to her car, his hand never leaving hers. And when they reached it, he hesitated for a moment before pulling her into his arms.

“I’m not letting you go again,” he murmured against her hair.

She smiled, burying her face in his chest. “Good. Because I don’t want to go.”

౨ৎ

*:･ﾟ Notes; thank you for reading, love’s! Hope you all enjoyed it! If there is something wrong or need to be edited, let me know! Also hey anon! If you read this, I hope that this is what you had in mind!

*:･ﾟtags; @spookbusters-jr

[23victoria]

𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔡𝔦𝔯𝔱𝔶 𝔩𝔦𝔱𝔱𝔩𝔢 𝔰𝔢𝔠𝔯𝔢𝔱

*☾⋆･ﾟ pairings: 𝔰𝔢𝔟𝔞𝔰𝔱𝔦𝔞𝔫 𝔳𝔢𝔱𝔱𝔢𝔩 𝔵 𝔶𝔭𝔲𝔫𝔤𝔢𝔯!𝔣𝔢𝔪!𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔢𝔯

word count: 6.4𝓀

*☾⋆･ﾟ synopsis: you knew it was wrong, sneaking around with your dads best-friend, but you couldn’t control it…he was just too fucking hot, plus, his dick was big 𝔠𝓌!☠︎ age gap, corruption, semi-public sex, rough sex, car sex, fingering, anal fingering, oral (f & m), degradation, riding, body worship, daddy kink, overstimulation, size kink, belly bulge, dacryphilia, breeding kink, pregnancy talk, spanking, nipple play, dirty talk, pussy worshipping, cum play, cockwarming

authors note: there’s an age gap, age is not specified in here so you can control the age cap, it is father bsf so…yea, it’s just porn tbh, i kinda struggle with this idk why, kinda losing motivation (help me) but i hope you enjoyyy! ask, likes, and reblogs are appreciated!!

𝔴𝔞𝔫𝔫𝔞 𝔟𝔢 𝔞𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔱 𝔬𝔣 𝔪𝔶 𝔱𝔞𝔤𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱? CLICK HERE!

*☾⋆･ﾟ f1 MASTERLIST KINKTOBER MASTERLIST

You sit at the small corner table in the cafe, legs bouncing with barely-contained energy. The gentle hum of chatter fills the space, the occasional clink of ceramic mugs and the whirr of the coffee machine adding to the background noise. But all you can focus on is the pounding of your own heart, the jittery, electric current racing through your veins as anticipation claws at you. You know it's wrong—everything about what you're doing today goes against what you’ve been taught, especially by your dad. He raised you better. If he knew…

You shake your head, trying to push the guilt away, but it lingers, gnawing at the edges of your excitement. God, the thrill and anxiety of it all is making it impossible to sit still. Your hands wrap around your coffee cup, fingers tapping against the ceramic as you bring the drink to your lips, trying to steady yourself. But the butterflies in your stomach refuse to settle, and you can’t deny that part of you loves the rush.

After all, how could you resist? His touches, those fleeting moments of eye contact, the way he smirks at you like you’re sharing a secret with just one glance—how could anyone resist? The fire that ignites in your belly every time you catch his gaze, the way his mere presence sets your skin alight with longing. It’s not like you planned for any of this to happen. It just…did.

Your parents had moved back to town when you were 18, and that’s when you first saw him—your dad’s best friend. Older, of course, but Jesus, the man was stunning. Tall, broad-shouldered, with a deep voice that made your heart flutter every time he spoke. You knew from the start that he was trouble, but back then, it was just a crush. Just harmless glances when he came over to hang out with your dad, harmless daydreams about what it would be like to be noticed by him. You were sure he knew, even then, but he never acted on it. Neither did you. Not until that night.

It was the night everything changed. You were 23, out with friends at a club in a different city, far enough away from your hometown to feel a sense of anonymity. The music had been loud, the alcohol flowing, and when you saw him across the room, your heart skipped a beat. You had been out of town, miles from anyone who could know or judge you, and when his eyes met yours from across the bar, you knew. This was your chance. The tension that had been simmering beneath the surface for years finally exploded. One drink led to another, and before you knew it, you were in his hotel room, breathless and aching, as he made you his in ways you could have never imagined.

God, you still get shivers thinking about that night. The way he touched you, how full he made you feel, how he whispered your name like a prayer while he pounded into you, hard and relentless. The way you screamed for him. No one had ever made you feel like that—no one else even came close. That night sealed everything. He was yours, and you were his, no matter the consequences.

And now, here you are, a year later, still sneaking around, still caught in the web of secrecy and desire. Every stolen moment feels more thrilling than the last. The guilt still eats at you sometimes, like now, sitting here waiting for him, knowing full well that it’s wrong. Knowing full well that he’s your dad’s best friend and that there’s an age gap that would make people talk. But fuck, how could you regret it? He’s the best thing that’s ever happened to you, and you can’t bring yourself to walk away, no matter how much you try to reason with yourself.

You glance around the cafe, checking the time on your phone again. He’s late, but he always makes you wait, probably enjoying the fact that it drives you crazy. The need for him is clawing at your insides, and the week you’ve been away for work hasn’t helped. You couldn’t see him—only a few rushed phone calls and texts exchanged here and there. You missed his touch. You missed his lips on yours. You missed the way he made you feel whole.

God, you need him now. You shift in your seat, squeezing your legs together, trying to alleviate the ache between them, but it’s no use. Your mind is swirling with images of what’s going to happen when he finally gets here. You close your eyes, leaning back in your chair, letting your thoughts drift back to all the times you’ve been together, sneaking around like teenagers, fucking in every place you could find—his car, the back room of his shop, the bathroom at your parents' house during a party when no one was looking. There’s no shame left in it, only raw, desperate desire.

The door to the cafe opens, the bell above it chiming softly, and for a moment, your heart stops. Is it him? You open your eyes, trying not to be too obvious as you glance toward the entrance, but there’s no sign of him yet. You sigh and take another sip of your coffee, willing yourself to calm down. But then, you hear it—the unmistakable sound of his voice, deep and smooth, ordering a coffee at the counter. It’s the same order he always gets, but today, there’s an extra word slipped in—your secret code. A signal that he’s here for you.

Your heart leaps in your chest, and you quickly stand, grabbing your purse as you casually make your way toward the back exit. You don’t dare look at him as you pass by the register, knowing you’ll give everything away if you do. Instead, you focus on the door, slipping out into the alleyway behind the cafe. It’s quiet, the faint hum of the town’s traffic in the distance. The cool air hits your skin, making you shiver, though it’s not just from the cold.

You wait, leaning against the brick wall, your pulse racing as you stare down the alley. It only takes a few minutes before you feel him—his presence behind you, the warmth of his body pressing against yours as his hands slide around your waist, grabbing your ass possessively. His lips are on your neck in an instant, and you can’t help but moan as his teeth scrape against your skin.

"You always look so fucking good in this dress," he mutters, his hands impatiently gathering up the fabric of your sundress, sliding it higher until his fingers meet the skin of your thighs. "I’ve been thinking about you all week, baby. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw you like this—squirming under me, so needy."

His words send a wave of heat through your body, your cheeks flushing as your mind spins with the memory of all the times you’ve snuck off together, the thrill of it never fading. But this time, after being apart for so long, it feels even more intense. 

"Fuck, I’ve missed that," he breathes, his voice gravelly, his hands tightening their grip on your hips. "I’ve missed you, baby. You have no idea."

Your chest rises and falls rapidly, your mind clouded with lust as he pulls your panties to the side, his fingers teasing your entrance as he rubs you slowly, deliberately. "I missed you too," you manage to say, your voice thick with need.

He presses you against the brick wall, his body shielding you from view as he leans in, capturing your lips in a hungry kiss. His hand trails down your side, the warmth of his touch sending shivers up your spine, and you can feel the heat between you building with every second.

You gasp into his mouth as his hand slips beneath your skirt, his fingers finding their way to your core with ease. He doesn’t waste time teasing you; instead, he plunges two fingers deep inside you, his pace relentless from the start. The sudden intrusion leaves you breathless, your hands flying to his shoulders, nails digging into his skin as you try to steady yourself.

“Seb…” you moan, your voice barely a whisper as his fingers curl inside you, hitting that spot that has your knees buckling. He smirks against your lips, his mouth never leaving yours as he continues to kiss you, his tongue sliding against yours in a dance that leaves you dizzy with desire.

“Fuck, baby,” he mutters against your mouth, his voice rough and low. “You’re so fucking wet.”

Your only response is a broken moan as he picks up the pace, his fingers working inside you with expert precision, curling and twisting in just the right way. It’s too much, the pleasure building inside you too quickly, and you can feel yourself spiraling, your body arching into him as you claw at his shoulders, trying to hold on.

“Seb, I—” you start, but the words are lost in a gasp as he presses his thumb against your clit, circling it in time with his thrusts. Your head falls back against the wall, your moans growing louder despite your best efforts to keep quiet. It’s impossible, though, not when he’s touching you like this, not when he’s pushing you closer and closer to the edge with every flick of his wrist.

“You gonna come for me, baby?” Seb growls, his breath hot against your neck as he continues to pump his fingers in and out of you, his pace never faltering. “Come on, I want to feel you.”

It only takes a few more seconds before you’re falling over the edge, your orgasm crashing through you with a force that leaves you shaking in his arms. Your eyes squeeze shut as you cry out, your whole body trembling as you come around his fingers, your nails digging into his shoulders hard enough to leave marks.

Seb grins as he watches you fall apart, his fingers slowing but not stopping as he rides out your orgasm, drawing every last bit of pleasure from you until you’re left panting against him, completely spent.

“You taste so sweet, baby,” he murmurs, pulling his fingers from you and bringing them to his mouth. He sucks them clean, his eyes never leaving yours as he licks every drop of your release from his fingers. “Fuck, I’ve missed that taste.”

You can barely catch your breath, but the sight of him licking his fingers clean sends a fresh wave of arousal through you, and you bite your lip, trying to control the smile tugging at the corners of your mouth.

Seb chuckles, his hand cupping your chin as he leans in to kiss you again, his lips soft and sweet against yours. “C’mon, let’s get out of here before I fuck you against this wall.”

He pulls you away from the wall, his arm around your waist as you make your way toward his truck.

As you walk, Seb’s hand drops to your ass, giving it a soft smack. You yelp in surprise, shooting him a playful glare, but the smile on your face gives you away. “You’re terrible,” you tease, but there’s no real heat behind your words.

He just grins, his hand lingering on your ass as you reach the truck. “You love it,” he murmurs, and you do—god, you really do.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Once you’re both in the truck, Seb starts the engine, his hands resting on the steering wheel as you settle into the passenger seat. But you’re far from done with him. Leaning over, you press a kiss to his neck, trailing your lips along his skin, and you feel him tense beneath your touch.

“What are you doing, honey?” he asks, his voice thick with amusement, though there’s a hint of tension there, too—the good kind.

“Nothing,” you say innocently, your hand slipping down to rest on his thigh. You rub slow circles there, feeling the muscles beneath his pants twitch under your touch, and you hear him let out a low groan.

Next thing he knows, your fingers are unzipping his pants, freeing his already hard cock. Seb lets out a sharp breath, his eyes darting between the road and you as you wrap your hand around him, stroking him slowly. “Fuck…” he groans, his grip tightening on the steering wheel as his hips jerk up into your hand.

You lean over him, spitting on your hand before rubbing it up and down his length, your thumb brushing over the tip as you watch him fall apart beneath your touch. His head falls back against the seat, his eyes fluttering closed for a moment before he forces them open again, trying to focus on the road.

“Fuck, baby, we’re almost there—let me concentrate,” he mutters, but he doesn’t finish the sentence, his words trailing off into a low groan as you bend down, taking him into your mouth.

The taste of him, salty and warm, spreads over your tongue as you bob your head, your hand still stroking the base of his cock as you suck him off. Seb’s hand flies to your hair, gripping it tightly as his hips jerk up into your mouth, and he lets out a string of curses, his voice rough and low.

“Shit, baby,” he groans, his fingers tugging at your hair. “You’re gonna make me fucking crash.”

You smile around his length, hollowing your cheeks as you take him deeper, your tongue swirling around the head of his cock. He moans, low and guttural, and you feel him twitch in your mouth, his whole body tensing as he gets closer and closer to the edge.

But just as he’s about to come, he slides a hand down to your ass, rubbing your clit through your panties before slipping his fingers beneath the fabric. His touch is quick, precise, as he fingers you while you continue to suck him off, and the sensation of it all—the taste of him on your tongue, the feel of his fingers inside you—is enough to send you spiraling again.

You moan around his cock, the vibrations making him groan loudly as he fucks up into your mouth, his hips thrusting harder now, chasing his release. “Fuck, baby,” he growls, his thumb circling your clit as his fingers pump in and out of you. “Come for me.”

And you do—your body tensing as your orgasm hits you hard, your vision going white as you clench around his fingers. Seb groans loudly as he feels you come around him, his own orgasm following quickly after as he spills into your mouth, his body shaking from the intensity of it all.

You swallow every last drop, licking your lips as you pull back, watching him as he tries to catch his breath. His hand slides from your hair to your cheek, pulling you up to him as he presses his lips to yours in a messy, breathless kiss. “Fuck, baby,” he mutters, his voice still rough. “C’mere and give daddy a kiss.”

You happily oblige, your lips crashing together in a sloppy, heated kiss, your bodies still trembling from the intensity of your shared release. He pulls you onto his lap, his hands gripping your hips as he kisses you deeply, his tongue sliding against yours in a way that makes your head spin.

By the time you finally pull apart, you’re both out of breath, your foreheads resting against each other as you try to calm down. The truck pulls to a stop outside your spot, it’s a hidden clearing in the middle of the woods, where the trees create a perfect circle of privacy, and the open sky above provides a perfect view of the stars at night. It’s secluded, untouched, and filled with the most intimate memories shared between you and Seb. He turns off the engine, his hand slipping back to your ass as he grins at you.

“You’re playing a dangerous game, honey,” he murmurs, his voice filled with amusement as he opens the door, stepping out of the truck. He reaches for you, his hands sliding beneath your legs as he lifts you out of the truck, carrying you like you weigh nothing.

You giggle, your arms wrapping around his neck as you press a soft kiss to his lips. “Maybe I like playing dangerously,” you tease, your voice soft and playful.

Seb chuckles, his hand smacking your ass playfully as he carries you toward the truck bed. “Two can play that game, honey.”

You moan as he kisses your neck laying you down in the back of the truck. A gasp escapes your lips as you feel the straps of your sundress being pulled down. Seb’s eyes are focused on you—dark with desire, his lips curled into a soft smile as he watches your reaction. His mouth dips lower, his lips brushing over the swell of your breasts, his tongue flicking over your nipple before sucking it into his mouth, as he pulls your sundress down further, exposing you to the cool morning air.

“Mmh,” you hum softly, the sensation of his mouth sending ripples of warmth through your body.

“I’ve missed you so much, honey. You and this sexy body of yours.” He switches to your other breast, his hands holding you firmly as he takes his time worshipping every inch of you. “God, your pussy… fuck, I love your pussy so much,” he groans, his words sending a fresh wave of heat pooling in your core. “The taste of it, the way it feels around my fingers, my cock… Just thinking about it has me so hard.”

Your breath hitches as his words sink in, a mix of arousal and anticipation building deep inside you. Seb always knew how to make you feel desired, cherished, and completely out of control with need. The way he talks to you, the way he touches you—it’s like every part of him is made to drive you wild.

His kisses trail lower now, leaving a path of fire down your stomach as he works his way between your legs. You spread them instinctively, knowing what’s coming next, your body already aching for him, needing his touch more than anything. He pauses for a moment, looking up at you with a smirk, his hands gripping your thighs as he pushes them further apart.

“So beautiful,” he mutters, his voice thick with lust as he kisses along the inside of your thigh. “And all mine.”

You moan softly, your hands tangling in the blanket beneath you as his lips get closer and closer to where you need him most. The anticipation is driving you insane, every second that passes feels like too much, but Seb knows exactly how to take his time, to make you beg for it without even saying a word.

When his mouth finally reaches your core, a gasp escapes you, your hips jerking up instinctively as his tongue flicks over your clit. The sensation is almost too much, the pleasure immediate and overwhelming as he starts to eat you out, his mouth relentless against you.

“Fuck, Seb,” you moan, your back arching off the blanket as his tongue swirls around your clit, sending wave after wave of pleasure crashing through you.

He growls against you, the sound vibrating through your core as he licks and sucks at your clit with precision, driving you higher and higher. “You taste so fucking good,” he mutters, his voice muffled as he buries his face between your legs, his tongue working magic on you.

Your hands fly to his hair, tugging at it as you moan loudly, your body already teetering on the edge. “Seb, oh my god…”

“You like that, baby?” he murmurs against your clit, his fingers sliding up to tease your entrance as he continues to devour you.

“Yes, yes,” you moan, your body trembling as he inserts two fingers inside you, curling them just right as he pumps them in and out, matching the rhythm of his tongue. The pleasure is too much, too intense, and you can feel yourself spiraling out of control as he pushes you closer to the edge.

Seb smirks, taking your moans as a yes, his fingers thrusting deeper inside you as he flicks his tongue over your clit with even more pressure. Your body responds instantly, your legs trembling as the pleasure builds to an almost unbearable peak.

“Oh fuck, Seb,” you cry out, your head falling back as your body tenses, every muscle tightening as the orgasm rips through you.

Seb doesn’t stop, his mouth and fingers working you through your orgasm, his tongue relentless as he pushes you even higher. Your legs shake uncontrollably, your body completely at his mercy as wave after wave of pleasure crashes over you.

When you finally come down, your chest heaving and your body trembling, Seb pulls his mouth away, but his fingers remain inside you, still moving slowly as he cleans you up, his eyes watching you intently.

“Feels good baby?” he teases, his voice soft but filled with pride as he watches you catch your breath.

You nod, still too breathless to speak, your body completely spent from the intensity of your orgasm.

Seb leans down, pressing a soft kiss to your lips as his fingers slide out of you slowly, leaving you feeling empty and longing for more.

“God, I love you like this,” he whispers against your lips, kissing all over you.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You’re still trembling, lost in the aftershocks of pleasure as Seb kisses his way back up your body. His lips are warm against your skin, grounding you, pulling you back from the blissed-out haze that has settled over you. The sun is rising higher, casting golden light through the canopy of trees surrounding your secret spot, but the world beyond the clearing feels distant—irrelevant. The only thing that matters right now is the heat radiating from Seb’s body, the way he presses against you, his hands roaming over your sensitive skin.

You can feel the shift in his energy—the tension, the need that hasn’t been fully satisfied yet. He kisses you deeply, and the hunger in that kiss makes your stomach tighten. You feel his hand sliding down your side, gripping your thigh as he positions himself between your legs. The tip of his cock brushes against your entrance, and your breath catches in your throat.

“C’mon, baby,” he murmurs against your lips, his voice rough with desire. “You can’t be tired already. You can give daddy a few more, right?”

Your heart races at his words, at the idea of what’s coming next. Your legs are still shaking from the intensity of his touch, but as you nod your head, your body responds in ways that words can’t. “Yes… yes, Seb,” you whisper breathlessly, your hands resting on his strong shoulders as you brace yourself for what’s to come.

He smirks, a flash of something dark and teasing in his eyes as he shifts his hips, the tip of his cock sliding along your wet slit. The sensation sends shivers through you, your body hypersensitive, already craving him. You gasp, your fingers tightening around his arms as you feel him position himself at your entrance.

And then, in one slow, deliberate thrust, Seb pushes inside you.

A yelp escapes your lips as the stretch of him burns through you, the sensation overwhelming. He’s big, and the way he fills you—bottoming out until you’re impossibly full—takes your breath away. “Fuck,” you moan, your head falling back against the soft blankets beneath you, your eyes squeezed shut as you try to adjust to the intensity of it.

“It’s too much,” you whimper, your voice shaking as you grip his arms, your nails digging into his skin. “Seb, I—”

“Shh, baby,” he soothes, his lips brushing against your ear as he stills inside you, his chest pressing against yours. “Yes, you can. You can take it, honey. I know you can.”

You nod, gasping softly as he starts to move again, his hips pulling back before slowly thrusting forward. The drag of him inside you is agonizing in the best way, every inch of him stretching you, filling you, making you feel so completely his. Your legs wrap around his waist instinctively, pulling him closer as his pace starts to pick up.

The tenderness melts away, replaced by something primal. His hips snap forward with more force, the sound of his skin slapping against yours mixing with your moans as he sets a relentless rhythm. Each thrust feels deeper, rougher, hitting a spot inside you that has your back arching off the blanket, your body completely out of control.

“Oh fuck,” you cry out, your voice breaking as the pleasure builds rapidly inside you, your fingers clawing at his back as he drives into you harder, faster. “Seb, I—”

He smirks down at you, his eyes dark and wild with lust as he watches you fall apart beneath him. “You like that, baby?” he growls, his voice thick with satisfaction as he thrusts even harder, bullying your body with every stroke.

You can only nod, your words lost in the overwhelming pleasure. He knows exactly what he’s doing, knows exactly how to push you to the brink. Each thrust is aimed perfectly, hitting that sweet spot deep inside you that has your vision blurring and your body shaking.

You feel yourself tightening around him, the pleasure too intense, too consuming. “Oh fuck, I’m—” you try to warn him, but it’s too late. Your orgasm crashes over you, your body convulsing as you scream his name, the pleasure so overwhelming it borders on painful.

Seb doesn’t stop. He fucks you through it, his cock driving into you relentlessly as tears prick at your eyes, the intensity of it all too much to handle. Your legs are shaking uncontrollably, your body completely wrecked as he continues to thrust into you, prolonging your orgasm until you’re nothing but a trembling, whimpering mess beneath him.

“Aww, honey,” Seb murmurs, his voice thick with both affection and lust as he leans down to kiss the tear-streaked cheeks he’s caused. “You look so pretty when you cry. Gosh, you’re just perfect. Fuck, just look at you. So beautiful.”

His words make your heart race, and a fresh wave of heat surges through you as his pace increases, his hands gripping your hips tightly. He’s not letting up, not giving you a moment to recover from the intensity of it all. You gasp, your body responding to every thrust, every word, every touch.

“You feel so good on my cock, baby,” he growls, his voice deep and rough, sending shivers down your spine. “The way you squeeze me… fuck.”

Your eyes meet his, and the fire in his gaze makes your stomach flip. It’s almost too much—the way he looks at you like you’re the only thing in the world that matters. You’re already breathless, on the edge, when he suddenly leans closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, “I can’t wait to get you pregnant.”

A moan escapes your lips before you can stop it, and Seb’s lips curl into a smirk against your skin. He pulls back just enough to look at you, his eyes dark with satisfaction at your reaction. “Oh, you liked that, huh?” he teases, his thrusts becoming even harder, even more deliberate. “You like the thought of me fucking you over and over again, filling you with my cum until you’re pregnant?”

Your breath catches in your throat, and all you can do is nod as the pleasure builds inside you. “Yes,” you moan softly, your voice barely a whisper.

Seb’s grip on your hips tightens, and in one swift movement, he hooks your legs up onto his shoulders, changing the angle as he thrusts into you with more intensity. You cry out as he goes deeper, hitting a spot that makes your vision blur. “Yeah, baby,” he growls, his pace quickening. “You want that? You want daddy to get you pregnant? Have you nice and round, carrying my child, letting everyone know that you’re mine?”

“Yes!” you cry out, your voice breaking as his words push you closer and closer to the edge. “Fuck, yes, Seb!”

He grins down at you, his breath ragged as he pounds into you relentlessly. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the air, mingling with your desperate moans. “You like that, huh? Want the whole world to know you’re mine. That you’re a slut for daddy, letting me fuck you pregnant,” he growls, his words sending shivers down your spine as your body tenses, the pleasure coiling tight inside you.

“Yes, yes, yes,” you scream, your nails digging into his arms as you teeter on the edge of release, your body trembling with anticipation.

Seb leans down, his face inches from yours, his breath hot against your skin as he whispers, “Then cum for me, honey. Let me feel you cum all over my cock.”

With one final thrust, you’re gone. Your orgasm crashes over you like a wave, your body convulsing beneath him as you scream his name, your vision going white from the intensity of it all. Seb doesn’t stop, his hips still driving into you, fucking you through your orgasm until you’re a trembling, moaning mess beneath him.

“Fuck, look at that pretty sight,” he groans, his voice full of admiration as he watches you come undone. “God, you’re perfect.”

You can feel his pace falter as he gets closer to his own release, and you cling to him, your legs still hooked over his shoulders as he drives into you one last time. With a deep groan, Seb spills inside you, his body shuddering as he collapses on top of you, his breathing heavy and labored.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Sebastian’s body presses against yours, his warmth surrounding you in the most comforting way as you lay there, side by side in the truck bed. He kisses the top of your head, his lips moving down the curve of your neck, soft and tender. Every touch from him sends shivers down your spine, and even though your body feels spent, there’s something about the way he holds you, the way he whispers against your skin, that ignites something deep within.

He pulls you closer, your back pressed to his chest, his hand resting on your hip as he lets out a soft sigh. “Honey,” he murmurs, his voice low and filled with affection, “you think you can give me one more?”

You feel the flutter of anticipation deep in your belly at his words. Your body is exhausted, every muscle aching from the intensity of everything that’s already happened, but something about the way he asks, the way he coos at you, makes you want to give him everything you have left.

You whisper a soft, breathless, “Yes.”

Sebastian smiles against your neck, his lips grazing your skin as he pulls you even closer. “That’s my girl,” he says, his voice filled with praise. “Ride me, baby. I wanna get a full view of you, my beautiful girl.”

Your heart races at the thought, the idea of being fully on display for him, letting him watch you as you take control, sending a thrill through you. Slowly, you shift, moving to straddle him. Seb’s hands never leave you, his fingers tracing up your sides, helping guide you into position as you sit above him. His eyes are dark with desire, watching you with an intensity that makes your whole body heat up.

Your hands rest on his chest, his strong, broad frame beneath your fingertips as you steady yourself. He gives you a reassuring nod, his hands moving to your hips, gently guiding you as you reach between your legs to grasp him. You can feel how hard he still is, the tip of him pressing against your entrance, and you bite your lip at the anticipation of the stretch.

“Go slow, baby,” Seb whispers, his hands rubbing soothing circles on your waist. “I know it’s a lot, but you can take it. You always do.”

You sink down onto him, inch by inch, the stretch almost overwhelming after everything you’ve already been through. A soft whimper escapes your lips, and Seb tightens his grip on your hips, grounding you. “I know, baby,” he coos, “but look at you. You’re taking me so well.”

As you finally take him fully inside, you let out a soft gasp, feeling the familiar fullness, the way he stretches you like no one else ever could. Your head falls forward, your hands gripping his chest for support as you try to adjust. That’s when you hear Seb’s voice, rough with lust. “Fuck… look at that.”

Your eyes flicker down to where your bodies are joined, and you can see it — a slight bulge in your lower belly where he’s buried so deep inside of you. The sight of it, the visual proof of how full you are, sends a fresh wave of arousal through you, and suddenly, you’re moving on top of him, your hips starting to roll in slow, deliberate circles.

Seb watches in awe, his hands moving to cup your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your sensitive nipples as he groans. “That’s it, honey. Just like that. You’re so fucking perfect.”

His praises fuel you, and you start to pick up the pace, moving faster as the pleasure builds inside of you once again. Each movement draws soft gasps from your lips, and you feel yourself slipping further into that blissful haze where all that matters is the way he feels inside of you, the way his eyes are locked on yours, filled with so much adoration and desire.

“Faster, baby,” Seb urges, his hands gripping your waist now, guiding your movements. “I want to feel all of you.”

You obey, quickening your pace, but it’s not long before Sebastian starts to thrust up into you, meeting your movements with his own, the intensity increasing with each second. His hips drive into you harder and deeper, and you’re starting to lose your balance, your hands slipping on his chest as your body struggles to keep up with the relentless pace.

Seb notices immediately, wrapping his arms around your waist, pulling you flush against him as he takes over, fucking up into you with a rhythm that leaves you gasping for air. Each thrust jerks your body, sending shockwaves of pleasure through you that make your vision blur and your voice come out in broken moans.

“Oh fuck, Seb, too much—ahh,” you cry out, your nails digging into his shoulders as you try to hold on.

But Seb doesn’t slow down. If anything, he thrusts harder, deeper, his pace almost brutal as he chases both of your releases. “You can take it,” he growls, his voice low and commanding. “You’re my good girl, right?”

“Yes,” you moan, your head falling back as the pleasure becomes too much to bear. “Yes, Seb, but—”

“Shh,” he interrupts, his lips brushing against your neck. “I know it’s a lot, but you can do it. I know you can.”

His words make your whole body tremble, the praise mixed with the roughness of his movements sending you spiraling. Your orgasm is building fast, the pleasure coiling tighter and tighter inside you with each thrust, and you can feel yourself right on the edge.

Seb feels it too. “You gonna cum for me, honey?” he asks, his voice rough and breathless. “You gonna cum on my cock?”

You nod frantically, your words coming out in a desperate moan. “Yes, Seb, yes, I—”

“Cum with me,” he growls, his pace becoming erratic as he thrusts even harder, hitting that perfect spot deep inside you. “Now, baby.”

The command is all it takes. You shatter around him, your orgasm tearing through you with a force that makes you scream his name. Your whole body shakes as the pleasure overwhelms you, your vision going white as you convulse around him. Seb isn’t far behind, his hips slamming into you one last time as he groans your name, his release spilling inside of you, filling you so completely.

You collapse against his chest, completely spent, your body trembling from the intensity of it all. Seb’s arms wrap around you, holding you close as he catches his breath, his chest rising and falling beneath you.

“Fuck,” he mutters, his voice soft now, filled with awe as he presses a kiss to your temple. “You did so good, honey.”

You’re too exhausted to respond, your head resting on his chest as you try to calm your breathing. Seb doesn’t seem to mind your silence, his hands moving soothingly up and down your back as he holds you.

After a few moments, he shifts slightly, still inside you, and you whimper softly at the overstimulation. “Let’s stay like this, baby,” Seb murmurs, his voice low and affectionate. “You gonna keep daddy’s cock warm, right?”

You can’t help the soft moan that escapes your lips at his words, your body still too sensitive, but the idea of keeping him inside you, staying connected like this, sends a wave of warmth through you. “Yes,” you whisper, your voice barely audible.

Seb smiles against your skin, his lips brushing your ear as he speaks. “Good girl,” he praises softly. “Keep my cum inside you all day, so you can carry my child, right?”

You nod, too overwhelmed to do anything else, but the thought of it—of him filling you over and over until you’re pregnant—makes a fresh wave of arousal pool low in your belly. It’s a thought that would’ve terrified you once, but now, with Seb holding you like this, it feels like the most natural thing in the world.

Seb kisses your temple again, his voice soft and comforting as he murmurs, “You’re everything to me, baby. My perfect girl.”

You smile softly, your body sinking into his as you let his warmth surround you. Maybe there were doubts before, maybe there was fear, but here, in his arms, with the taste of pure bliss still lingering on your skin, you know you made the right choice. There’s no room for regret when it feels like this—when he makes you feel like this.

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