#despite knowing I’m slow but I’m trying

[utterlyazriel]

featherlight touch

a/n: and what if i said surprise smut. what then :) my soft launch of the fact i can and do write smut... <3 word count: easy peasy barely over 1k-squeezy synopsis: Given particular knowledge, you try something new. wing!fic

Your knees sink into the black satin sheets of Azriel’s bed and you sigh contently.

Across the room at the window, the curtain is haphazardly drawn, letting in a curious ray of moonlight. A dim glow lights the room.

You’re thankful for it now—the moonlight allowing you to drink in the sight beneath you with a ravenous gaze. Thighs straddling across his hips, you take in Azriel under you with, what can only be described as, ardent hunger.

But, well, it’s not often enough you get to be on top, after all.

Azriel’s wings splay out on the bed, gloriously on display. His scarred hands rest easily on your waist. His hazel eyes, narrowed in a suspicious way, are focused entirely on you. He, as always, looks devastatingly handsome.

“I’m not sure if I like the look of that look.” He comments slyly, shifting his head to flick a stray curl back from his eyes.

His hands on your waist give a gentle squeeze, as if to reassure you that he’s only teasing. His shadows lurk, traversing the rumpled bedsheets with a lazy designation, unbothered.

“Oh, hush,” you respond. “As if I haven’t been on the receiving end of this before.”

At the mere mention of your reversed positions, Azriel grins, even as a hot glow takes to his cheeks. The dusty rose colour sets a warm spark off in your chest and the heat wastes no time heading south, between your thighs.

Your relationship with Azriel is of the newer side, despite how long you've actually known each other. Long time friends, eventually, finally turned lovers.

But these new steps forward together, getting to know each other in an entirely new way—it's still enough to make Azriel fluster. Centuries old he is but a bashful shyness still remains, if only you can coax it out.

Bringing you back to the moment, Azriel squeezes your waist again, one hand shifting across your skin, his thumb dipping closer to your waistband.

“I don’t know what you mean,” He says, even as his satisfied smile gives him away. He watches closely as you pluck up his large hand and move it back to your waist, the message clear. He's not in charge tonight.

“Y’know,” you say, voice softer suddenly.

You haven’t let go on his hand. As you speak, you let your fingers travel down his veined and chiseled forearm slowly. “I learnt something today. From Feyre.”

Azriel watches you intently, the very feel of your skin across his enough to make him shudder in muted pleasure. No one touches him like you do.

Goosebumps break out along his arm as your hand reaches his bulging bicep and you drag your nails across it lightly.

“Is that so?”

Despite all his body betrays him, Azriel is a master at keeping his face and voice cool and calm. You smile at the sight of it, goaded on by his unwavering voice, and let your hand linger, resting on his collarbone.

“What did she tell you?” Azriel asks, his dark brows raising.

Purposefully, you shift your hips an inch, grinding against his own. Azriel barely manages to hide the grunt it pulls from him, his fingers flexing against your waist as if he’s resisting something more.

“She told me,” You say, dragging out the words, sultry and low.

Your hand begins to move, tracing the line of his defined chest and feeling it heave slightly beneath your touch. Tantalisingly slow, you let it trail down, skimming across his toned stomach where you pause.

“That if I ask you nicely, there’s a certain spot—”

Your teasing, trailing touch moves sideways, dipping down his ribcage and nearing his wings. They rustle against the sheets, a minuscule motion, that you hope is in what’s anticipation.

If what Feyre said is true...

Moving slow, so there’s time for him to interrupt you, you reach down and hover your hand over the delicate membrane of his wings.

Intentions clear, your eyes dart to Azriel’s to check.

Pupils blow wide, the ring of hazel you love so much barely visible, Azriel looks debauched before you've even begun. His hands are stilled on your waist and his cheeks are that same glowing scarlet. After a beat it becomes clear he’s waiting, not stopping you.

Grinning, you take your cue.

Brushing your fingers gently across a section of his wings, the reaction is instantaneous.

Azriel shudders, his whole body shivering as a strangled breath passes through his clenched jaw, his eyes fluttering closed. The hands on your waist constrict, tightening his grip, and beneath you his hips shift up, into you.

The shape of him, pulsating and hot, suddenly feels much firmer than before.

“She’s—right.” The words come out in two stilted breaths, Azriel’s chest rising and falling a little faster now as he fights to compose himself. His eyes open, heavier lidded than they were a moment ago. His tongue darts out to wet his lips.

"Is she?" Your voice is lilted in mock uncertainty, given away by your mischievous grin. "I think I better check again."

This time, instead of a small brush, you try something bolder. Two fingers on either side of a prominent vein, you draw a delicate stripe up his wing.

Azriel whines— a soft, pitiful noise that leaks out through his clenched teeth. It melts into a soft groan as his whole body shifts, his hips shoving up, seemingly out of his control. His hands pull you down at the time, dragging you forward against his hardness.

Something fiercely hot simmers in your gut, both at the friction and his glorious reaction. He's been fucking holding out on you.

"I don't know, I'm still not sure..." You continue, far too delighted to abuse your newfound knowledge.

Stroking another soft line up his wing, this time you're rewarded with a needy whimper. His chest arches up, his head thrown back lightly—nearly writhing in pleasure from just a few touches.

"Oh, Az," You murmur, half consoling and half wicked. His screwed up eyes take a moment to find yours and you relish the panting of his chest. The rosiness of his cheeks has spread, crawling down his neck and beginning along his toned chest.

"This your plan?" He says, but it's nowhere near that unwavering voice from earlier, raspy and on the way to ruined. "To—" He takes a sharp inhale as your nail scrapes the membrane again. "—to tease me all night?"

You're impressed he's got the words out, given the sight of him. His hair looks messier now. Paired with his heaving chest and eyes bright with lust, he looks downright sinful.

"Doesn't sound too bad a plan to me." You say, letting your hips draw forward, then back, the smallest rocking motion against him.

Azriel hisses, his large, scarred hands threatening to bruise your hips with how tight they grip them. He makes no attempt to stop you though.

"What do you think?"

You purposefully retract your hand, hovering it over his wing, and watch his face. Wings are very personal to Fae and Azriel letting you touch his own, in such an intimate way, was not lost on you.

You don't want to overstep, even if you do desperately want to see what happens if you stroke once, twice, three times in a row. Gods do you want to watch him fall apart beneath you, whimpering and whining through it all.

"I think you're a temptress," Azriel says, breathless. His eyes, heavy with desire, give away his answer. A grin spreads across your face, devious and enamoured all at once.

"A temptress you'll let have her way with you?"

"Depen—ah," His voice shudders into another whimper as you touch your fingertip back to his velvety wing, drawing a small circle.

Eyes crushing closed, it takes another moment for him to catch his breath before he speaks again, breath ragged. "Mother above..."

His wing, the one you've been taunting, rustles against the bed. It lifts up an inch before flapping down in an almost impatient motion. Like a cat, wagging its tail. Azriel wets his lips again, their skin cherried and plush.

"Alright," He says, faux begrudgingly. His eagerness is given away by another impatient rustle of his wing and the throbbing length of him, pressing firmly up against you.

His gives your waist another squeeze and then lets go, letting his arms fall lax to his side. Trusting you completely.

"Have your way with me."

[moonlightwritingf1]

First Time | LN4

❤︎ summary ━━━━━━━ Lando finds out Y/N is a virgin.

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

❤︎ word count ━━━━━━━ 5.3k

❤︎ warnings ━━━━━━━ +18, sexual content, unprotected sex, p in v, oral sex (f receiving)

Based on this request.

Friday night settled over London with a quiet hush, the city lights flickering in the distance and the occasional sound of cars passing below Y/n’s apartment building. Although the night was still and cool, a charged warmth filled the cozy living room. She sat on the edge of her couch, legs tucked beneath her, trying to focus on the movie playing on the TV screen. But it was impossible. Not when Lando Norris was sitting just inches away from her, his presence like a magnet pulling at every nerve in her body.

It had been two months since they’d officially started dating, and yet, the tension between them still crackled like a live wire. Every glance, every brush of skin, every shared laugh—it all felt charged with something unspoken. Something waiting to burst free.

Lando leaned back into the cushions, one arm casually draped behind her. His fingers traced lazy patterns along the fabric of the couch, dangerously close to brushing against her shoulder. She could feel the warmth radiating off him, smell the faint hint of his cologne mixed with something uniquely him. It made her stomach twist in the best possible way.

Lando studied Y/N’s features in silence, his gaze lingering as if he were trying to decipher a puzzle. He noticed the subtle tension around her eyes, the delicate way her lashes fluttered as she blinked, and the gentle parting of her lips with each soft breath. The slight flush on her cheeks hinted at something more—nerves, maybe, or a thought she wasn’t sharing.

“Hey,” he murmured, his voice low and gentle, as if afraid to break whatever spell she seemed to be under. “You doing okay? You seem a little distracted.” 

Y/n swallowed. “I’m fine,” she replied quickly. She noticed her own voice sounded defensive. “Just… I was thinking about work. It was a long week.”

He nodded sympathetically. “Yeah, I know the feeling. Meetings, calls, deadlines… not as glamorous as I used to think a normal nine-to-five would be.” A teasing spark lit his eyes. “At least you’re off the clock now,” he added, his lips curving into a soft smile.

Y/n found herself smiling despite her nerves. There was something about his tone—soft and playful at once—that disarmed her. This was why she had let him in, despite all her reservations. His earnestness, the puppy-like devotion in his gaze. He was so unlike the rumors—so unlike how she once imagined him to be.

She stood up abruptly, the need to put a little distance between them overwhelming her for a moment. “Want some tea? I can put the kettle on,” she offered, forcing herself to sound casual.

A small frown tugged at Lando’s brows, but he quickly covered it with a smile. “Sure, I’d love some.”

While she busied herself in the kitchen, Lando took a moment to look around her apartment. It was modest—comfortable and intimate, with personal touches here and there: books carefully arranged on a shelf, a photograph of her parents near the TV, soft throw blankets on the sofa. He couldn’t help picturing how often she might curl up under those blankets, reading a novel after a long day. He yearned to be there during those quiet moments, to share them with her, to make her life a little less lonely.

The clink of the kettle switching off caught his attention. Y/n returned shortly, two mugs of steaming tea in hand. She handed one to him and then sat back down on the couch, leaving only a cushion’s width of space between them. The delicate scent of chamomile filled the air.

“Thank you,” he murmured, taking a slow sip. “You’re too good to me.”

“Trust me,” she said with a small laugh, “I’m not. You just make it so easy to want to do something for you, seeing as you’re always doing things for me.”

Y/n’s mind wandered briefly to the memory of him sending her all those gifts—flowers, perfumes, expensive clothes that made her squeak in shock when she saw the price tags. She had been torn between excitement and embarrassment, but also a bit of suspicion. There was this question that kept haunting her: Could Lando be serious? She needed more than sweet gestures and pretty words. She needed true depth, true commitment. And if he wasn’t that kind of man, she’d rather know now than be hurt later.

Lando watched her expression shift, as if lost in thought. Ever perceptive, he set his mug down. “Y/n,” he said, voice quieter this time, “I can see it in your eyes that something’s bothering you. Is it us… or something else?”

She offered him a tentative smile. “I’m just… still adjusting to us, I think. It’s overwhelming sometimes.”

He couldn’t hide the relief that seemed to soften his features. “I understand,” he said, reaching out and gingerly placing a hand on her knee. “I know I might come on strong, but you have to believe me—I’m in this. No matter what.”

She placed her hand over his. His words chipped away at some of her armor, and she felt a stirring of warmth that had little to do with the tea. “Thank you,” she whispered, letting her thumb brush over his knuckles.

Time felt suspended. The city noises outside turned into nothing but a faint backdrop. In the hush of her living room, the only sounds were their breath, their quiet laughter, and the hum of electricity in the background.

Eventually, the conversation shifted to lighter topics: a fun memory from Lando’s last race weekend in Europe, a comedic mishap at Y/n’s office that had everyone trying to fix a computer glitch that turned out to be user error. The atmosphere grew playful again, but a current of tension remained, rolling through the space between them like a gathering storm.

They inched closer until their shoulders touched. Lando placed a finger beneath her chin, guiding her gaze to meet his. His voice was a whisper in the stillness. “You have no idea how beautiful you look right now.”

Y/n’s lips parted, a bashful chuckle escaping her. “You’re just saying that.”

“No,” he murmured, leaning in, close enough to brush her ear with his breath, “I’m not.”

And then he kissed her. Gentle at first, almost reverent, as if he were savoring the feel of her lips. She responded softly, her heart fluttering. The warmth of his mouth against hers turned every cell in her body alive.

His hands drifted from her waist to the small of her back, pulling her closer so that no space remained between them. She could feel his heartbeat thrumming against her own. Every time their lips parted, he whispered her name, as though it were a plea and a prayer all at once.

The kiss deepened. His hand went up, tangling in her hair, and a soft moan she couldn’t restrain slipped from her lips. Sensations flooded her: his warmth, his scent—a mix of clean soap and the faintest cologne—his unwavering focus on her and only her.

It wasn’t long before the passion of their kisses caused them both to shift. Lando’s palm skated gently over her waist and up toward her ribs. His lips traveled along her jawline, down her neck, tasting the soft skin there. She clutched at the fabric of his hoodie, eyelids fluttering shut.

The moment felt too perfect, too intense. A fierce desire blossomed in her chest, and she had to remind herself to breathe. She could feel Lando’s heart racing, or maybe it was her own.

His mouth found hers again, deeper, hungrier this time. When she felt his right hand cup her breast over her sweater, an unexpected jolt of panic mingled with excitement. The swirl of emotions—desire, fear, anticipation—was suddenly overwhelming.

She let out a quiet gasp and quickly placed her hand over his, stopping him in the motion. It wasn’t intentional, the way her body stiffened, the way her breath caught in her throat. Instantly, Lando pulled back, eyes wide and full of concern.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, voice low and rough from the heat of the moment. “Did…did I do something to make you uncomfortable?”

Y/n drew in a shaky breath, her cheeks burning, unsure how to explain. She felt her entire face glow with a complex mix of longing and worry. “Lando…” she began, biting her lower lip. She slid her hand into his for a moment, a silent reassurance that she wasn’t rejecting him, but the intensity. “I just…maybe we’re moving too fast right now.”

He nodded, pulling away a little more to give her space. “It’s okay,” he whispered, gently brushing the back of his fingers against her cheek. “We can slow down, I promise. I don’t ever want you to feel rushed.”

She looked down, her hands twisting in her lap. A fresh wave of nerves welled up in her chest—but this time it wasn’t just about caution, it was about her own decision, a burgeoning sense that maybe she was ready to take this leap with him. She’d been holding onto her secret for so long that it almost felt easier to keep the status quo. Yet tonight, something had shifted inside her. She had been convincing herself that her wariness was purely about trust, about not wanting to rush. But if she was honest with herself—truly honest—she wanted him, more than she’d ever wanted anyone.

“There’s… actually something else,” she said in a voice so soft he had to lean in to hear her.

His eyes filled with anxiety. “Talk to me, love. Please.”

She swallowed. “I’m…still a virgin.”

For a moment, the air left the room. Lando stared at her, silently processing, a flicker of genuine shock crossing his face. He exhaled slowly, as though trying to collect his thoughts. “You’re…a virgin?” he repeated quietly, the disbelief evident in his tone. “Wow, I—I’m sorry,” he quickly added, holding up his hands as though in surrender. “I don’t mean that in a bad way, it’s just… I’m surprised.”

She nodded stiffly, her gaze fixed on the space between their knees. “I know we’re the same age. I know how it sounds. You probably had…way more experiences than I ever have.” She tensed, voicing the insecurity that had haunted her for months. “I just, I never met someone I trusted enough. Or maybe I was too busy convincing myself I didn’t need it… didn’t need them.”

Lando, still coming to grips with her revelation, took her hand, weaving his fingers through hers. “Hey,” he said softly, “look at me.”

Reluctantly, she raised her eyes to meet his gaze. And what she saw wasn’t judgment or disinterest—it was gentleness, acceptance… and maybe even awe.

“Thank you for telling me,” he said, voice trembling with raw honesty. “I know that couldn’t have been easy.” He lifted his free hand to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “And please don’t feel embarrassed about it.”

She let out a shaky breath, tears threatening to form. “I thought you’d think it’s weird,” she confessed. “You’re so… experienced. You’ve had so many women and—”

“Let’s not talk about them,” he interrupted gently. A slight sadness flickered across his face, as though all the old choices he’d made suddenly seemed trivial or even shameful. “They don’t matter. You do.” He swallowed, trying to steady his voice. “And I don’t want you to feel any pressure from me.”

She hesitated, chewing on her bottom lip. “Lando, this is… important. But I—” She paused, feeling that swirl of fear in her stomach again. It was now or never. “I think… I’m ready. To be with you,” she admitted, voice barely audible. It was the first time she had truly spoken the words aloud. The admission sent a flush of heat through her entire body.

His eyes widened at her confession. “You’re… ready?” he echoed, as if carefully testing the meaning of those words. Hesitation and tenderness mingled in his expression. “Are you absolutely sure? I don’t want you to do this if you’re not one hundred percent.”

She swallowed, nodding. “I’m sure,” she whispered. A small laugh escaped her, colored by nervousness. “I can’t believe I just said that. But… yes. I—I want this, with you.”

Relief, joy, and something deeper flooded Lando’s features. He reached for her hands again, clasping them between his own. “We don’t have to rush,” he said, though the excitement in his voice was clear. “Just because you’re ready doesn’t mean—”

“It’s my choice,” she interjected softly. “I trust you. And it’s taken me a while to let myself feel this way, but… the truth is, I’m tired of being scared. Of holding onto my hang-ups. I want to share this with you.”

Lando exhaled, a million emotions running across his face—gratitude, longing, protectiveness. “Y/n,” he said, voice thick. “I promise I’ll be gentle. I promise I’ll take care of you.”

She offered him a trembling smile. “I know you will.”

He stood then, carefully pulling her to her feet. They stood close, the fabric of their clothes brushing against each other. Lando dipped his head so that his eyes were level with hers. He could see the mix of courage and trepidation in her gaze.

“Do you want to move to your room?” he asked, the question laced with quiet anticipation.

She nodded, sliding her hand into his. They walked slowly toward the short hallway that led to her bedroom. Every step brought a new spike of adrenaline and longing. The overhead lights were off, leaving only the faint glow from a small lamp on her bedside table. The walls were painted in calming, muted colors—soft grays and blues. The bed itself was made neatly, a plush duvet folded at the end.

Y/n’s heart pounded in her chest. A whirlwind of thoughts chased each other through her mind: He’s here, he wants me, I want him, I’m ready, no turning back… Yet overshadowing all of it was a sense of quiet determination. She had chosen him. After all the months of hesitation, she was certain.

When they reached the bedside, she paused, turning to face Lando. The uncertainty still flickered in her eyes, but it didn’t come from doubt in him—rather, it came from the enormity of the moment. Her first time. Something she had guarded for so long.

He noticed. Gently, he placed his hands on her shoulders and bent to press a soft, lingering kiss to her forehead. “We’ll go slow,” he murmured, the warmth of his breath tickling her skin.

She nodded, inhaling deeply. “Slow,” she repeated, as if the word itself were a grounding tether.

Carefully, they leaned in for another kiss. This one was warm and tentative, a promise rather than an urgent demand. Lando’s hands drifted to her waist, and Y/n reciprocated, sliding her arms around his neck. The heat between them was more controlled now, more intentional, and yet somehow even more intense. She felt safe—reassured by the unspoken vow in every gentle touch.

After a while, their kisses grew deeper, more confident. He guided her backward until her legs met the edge of the bed. They sank down together, lips never losing contact. Soft gasps and hushed whispers began weaving an intimate tapestry of sound around them. Even the hum of passing cars seemed distant, as though the outside world had fallen away and left them in a private universe.

The warmth of their kisses lingered, slow and deliberate, as Lando hovered above her on the bed. His lips moved from her mouth to her jawline, trailing soft, featherlight kisses down the column of her neck. Every touch was a promise, every sigh a silent reassurance. Y/n’s breath hitched when his tongue flicked against her pulse point, sending shivers cascading down her spine. Her hands tangled in his hair, holding him close, her fingers trembling with anticipation.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured against her skin, his voice low and rough with desire. His lips continued their journey downward, skimming over her collarbone before settling at the hollow of her throat. He paused for a moment, his breath warm against her flushed skin, and then gently tugged at the hem of her sweater.

“Can I take this off?” he asked, his eyes locking onto hers, dark with arousal but still filled with tenderness.

She nodded, her heart pounding so loudly she was sure he could hear it. “Yes,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Lando’s hands slid beneath the fabric, his fingertips brushing against her waist as he slowly lifted the sweater over her head. The cool air kissed her skin, and she shivered—not from the temperature, but from the way he looked at her. His gaze was reverent, almost worshipful, as he took in the sight of her bare torso. His eyes lingered on the curve of her breasts, encased in delicate lace, and a soft groan escaped his lips.

“God, you’re perfect,” he breathed, his hands already moving to cup her through her bra. His thumbs brushed over her nipples, drawing a sharp gasp from her. She arched into his touch, her body betraying how much she craved him.

He leaned down, pressing his lips to the slope of her breast, just above the edge of the lace. His kisses were slow and exploratory, each one sending jolts of pleasure radiating through her. When his fingers fumbled with the clasp of her bra, she reached behind her to help him, her hands shaking slightly. The bra fell away, and his breath caught as he took her in completely.

“Y/n…” he murmured, his voice thick with awe. “You’re stunning.”

His hands caressed her breasts, his palms sliding over the soft flesh before his mouth followed. He captured one nipple between his lips, swirling his tongue around the sensitive peak while his hand teased the other. Y/n gasped, her back arching off the bed as waves of pleasure coursed through her. Her moans spilled freely now, no longer restrained, and each one seemed to spur him on. 

“L-Lando,” she whimpered, her nails digging into his shoulders. “That feels… so good.”

He responded by sinking his teeth gently into her nipple, eliciting a sharp cry from her. His hands squeezed her breasts together, his lips moving back and forth between them, leaving her a trembling, moaning mess beneath him. He worshipped her like this, his touch and his words making her feel cherished, adored.

“Lando,” she whimpered, her hands clutching at his shoulders. “Please…”

He chuckled low in his throat, the sound vibrating against her skin. He pulled back just enough to look at her, his eyes dancing with mischief. “Please what, love?” he teased, his fingers pinching her nipples lightly, making her gasp again.

She shook her head, unable to form the words. He laughed softly, kissing her lips briefly before sitting back on his heels. His hands drifted to the waistband of her leggings, his thumbs hooking under the elastic. “Can I take these off too?” he asked, his voice gentle but laced with anticipation.

She nodded, swallowing hard. “Yeah. But… take your top off too.”

His grin was irresistible as he tugged his hoodie over his head, revealing the toned planes of his chest. Y/N’s breath caught in her throat. He was breathtakingly handsome, his muscles defined but not overly bulky, his skin smooth and warm.

He returned to her, his hands sliding her leggings down her legs slowly, peeling the fabric away inch by inch. She lifted her hips to help him, her heart pounding as she lay before him in nothing but her underwear. His gaze lingered on her, heat and adoration burning in his eyes.

“God, you’re stunning,” he said, his voice rough with want. He knelt between her legs, his hands resting on her thighs. “Are you sure about this? We can stop anytime.”

She nodded, her voice steadier than she expected. “I’m sure.”

Lando leaned down, pressing a kiss to her inner thigh. She gasped, her hands gripping the sheets as his lips traveled higher, closer to the apex of her thighs. He nuzzled the thin fabric of her underwear, his breath hot against her already soaked core.

“So fucking wet,” he murmured, his voice dripping with desire. He kissed her through the fabric, dragging his tongue over her clit in a slow, teasing motion. She cried out, her hips lifting instinctively toward him.

“Lando!” she gasped, her thighs trembling as he continued to tease her, his lips and tongue driving her wild. He chuckled softly, the sound sending a shiver down her spine.

“Patience, baby,” he purred, his hands sliding her underwear down her legs. He tossed them aside, settling back between her thighs. For a moment, he just looked at her, his expression reverent. “Fuck, Y/N. You have such a pretty pussy.”

Her face burned, but before she could say anything, his tongue was on her, lapping at her folds with long, slow strokes. She moaned loudly, her head falling back against the pillows as pleasure shot through her.

Lando devoured her like a man starved, his tongue circling her clit, dipping inside her, coaxing every ounce of pleasure from her body. Her moans grew louder, more desperate, her hands fisting the sheets as she writhed beneath him.

“Oh my God, Lando,” she whimpered, her thighs shaking. “That feels so good…”

He groaned against her, the vibrations making her cry out. He slipped a finger inside her, curling it just right against her walls as his tongue continued its relentless assault. She swore she saw stars, her entire body tensing as pleasure coiled tighter and tighter within her. Just when she thought she might scream, he pulled back, his lips glistening and his chest rising and falling rapidly.

“Do you really want this?” he asked, his voice ragged. “Are you sure you’re ready?”

She nodded, her eyes glazed with need. “Yes, I’m ready. I want you, Lando. All of you.”

He nodded, his breath hitching as he reached for the waistband of his trousers. In one swift motion, he stripped them off, along with his boxers, leaving himself completely bare. Y/N’s eyes widened as she took him in—hard and flushed, his length straining toward her.

He settled between her legs, his weight pressing her into the mattress as he leaned down to kiss her. “I’ll go slow,” he promised, his voice thick with emotion. “Tell me if it hurts.”

She nodded, her heart swelling with affection for him. “Okay,” she whispered.

He pressed forward slowly, inch by agonizing inch, until he was fully sheathed inside her. She gasped, her nails digging into his shoulders as she adjusted to the unfamiliar sensation. It hurt, but it wasn’t unbearable—and mixed with the pain was an overwhelming sense of closeness, of being connected to him in the most intimate way possible.

“You’re incredible,” he breathed, staying still to give her time. “How do you feel?”

“Full,” she admitted with a shaky laugh. “But… good. Really good.”

He smiled, leaning down to kiss her softly. “You’re doing so well, love,” he murmured against her lips. “Just relax. Let me take care of you.”

Lando began to move, his hips rolling in slow, deliberate thrusts. Each glide of his length inside her was met with a soft gasp from Y/n, her body still adjusting to the unfamiliar fullness. He kept his pace gentle, rhythmic, almost teasing, as if he wanted to savor every second of this moment with her. His eyes never left hers, searching for any sign of discomfort—but all he found was desire, trust, and a growing need.

“You feel so good,” he murmured, his voice rough with restraint. “So fucking perfect.”

She whimpered in response, her hands sliding from his shoulders to his chest, where she could feel the rapid thrum of his heartbeat beneath her fingertips. Her own heart raced in tandem, her breath coming in shallow bursts as arousal coiled tighter and tighter in her core. She arched instinctively, her hips rising to meet his next thrust, and Lando groaned low in his throat at the sensation.

“Lando…” she breathed, her voice trembling. “It’s… it’s so much.”

He paused, concern flickering across his face. “Too much?” he asked, his tone laced with worry. “Do you want me to stop?”

She shook her head quickly, a shy smile tugging at her lips. “No… no, don’t stop. It’s just… overwhelming. In a good way.” Her fingers traced the muscles of his chest, marveling at the way they flexed with every movement. “I didn’t know it could feel like this.”

The relief in his expression was palpable. He leaned down to kiss her again, his lips slow and sweet, before whispering against her mouth, “Then let me show you how good it can be.”

His thrusts grew slightly firmer, the rhythm steady but unhurried. Y/n’s moans grew louder, each one sending a jolt of pleasure straight to Lando’s cock. He ground into her deeper with every push, angling his hips so that he brushed against a spot inside her that made her gasp and clutch at him desperately.

“There…” she whimpered, her nails lightly scratching his back. “Right there, Lando… please…”

A groan rumbled in his chest as he obeyed, focusing on that spot with relentless precision. Her reactions were intoxicating—every sigh, every shiver, every desperate plea only fueled his own need. But he refused to rush, determined to make this first time unforgettable for her.

“God, you’re beautiful,” he whispered, his eyes dark with adoration. “Watching you like this… hearing you… it’s driving me insane.”

Her cheeks flushed at his words, but she didn’t look away. Instead, she met his gaze with equal intensity, her eyes clouded with passion and something deeper—something that made his chest ache with emotion.

“Touch me,” she begged softly, her hand sliding down to guide his. “Please…”

Without hesitation, Lando reached between them, his fingers finding her swollen clit with practiced ease. He circled the sensitive nub gently, watching as her entire body jerked in response. Her moans turned into breathless cries, her hips rocking against his hand and his cock in a frenzied rhythm.

“Fuck, Lando—oh god—” she gasped, her back arching off the bed. “I’m… I’m close…”

“Let go, love,” he urged, his voice thick with passion. “Come for me.”

The combination of his hand and his cock pushed her over the edge. She cried out his name as waves of pleasure crashed over her, her inner walls clamping down around him in a vice-like grip. Lando groaned loudly, his thrusts faltering as her climax overwhelmed him. He clenched his jaw, fighting to hold on just a little longer—to give her every last drop of pleasure she deserved.

When her tremors finally subsided, she looked up at him with dazed, unfocused eyes. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, her skin glistening with a thin sheen of sweat. She was utterly breathtaking.

Still buried deep inside her, Lando kissed her again, his lips tender and reverent. “You’re amazing,” he whispered, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “Absolutely fucking incredible.”

Y/n smiled shyly, her legs wrapping around his waist as she pulled him closer. “Don’t stop,” she murmured, her voice barely audible. “Not yet…”

He nodded, his own arousal still burning hot and urgent, but tempered now by the reverence he felt for her. He resumed his slow, deep thrusts, each one deliberate, each one meant to draw out every ounce of pleasure she could take. Her soft moans filled the room, a melody that made his chest ache with something deeper than desire—something tender, something sacred.

“Tell me what you need,” he murmured, his voice rough but laced with adoration. His hands cradled her hips as though she were fragile, precious. “Anything, love… just tell me.”

Her fingers brushed through his hair, her touch featherlight yet electric. “You,” she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion. “Just you.”

Those two words shattered him. Not in the way of losing control, but in the way of surrender—to her, to this moment, to the depth of what they were sharing. He pressed his forehead to hers, their breaths mingling, their hearts beating in sync. His pace quickened, not out of urgency, but out of a need to give her everything he had, to make her feel how much she meant to him.

Her body arched beneath him, her moans growing louder, more desperate. Her hands roamed over his back, not clawing, but caressing, as if she wanted to memorize every inch of him. She clung to him, not out of desperation, but out of a need to be as close as possible, to erase any space between them.

“Y/n…” His voice was strained, but it wasn’t just from the physical strain. It was from the weight of what he felt for her, the intensity of it threatening to spill over. “I’m not gonna last much longer…”

She gasped, her eyes fluttering shut as another wave of pleasure began to crest. “Neither—“ she managed, her voice breaking. “Oh god, Lando—“

He felt her tighten around him again, her climax crashing over her like a tidal wave. Her cry was raw, unfiltered, and it echoed through the room, a sound that would forever be etched into his memory. Her nails dug into his skin, not to hurt, but to anchor herself as she rode out the blissful aftershocks.

That was all it took for him. With a final, shuddering thrust, he spilled himself inside her, his release tearing through him with a force that left him breathless. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, his ragged breaths hot against her skin as he whispered her name over and over, like a prayer, like a vow.

For several long moments, neither of them moved. Their bodies remained tangled together, sweat-slicked and spent, but closer than they’d ever been. Gradually, the haze of pleasure began to fade, replaced by a bone-deep satisfaction and an overwhelming sense of closeness that went beyond the physical.

Lando was the first to stir, pressing a soft kiss to her collarbone before pulling back to look at her. His heart swelled at the sight of her—flushed, disheveled, and utterly spent, but smiling up at him with such tenderness that it nearly brought tears to his eyes.

“How do you feel?” he asked, his voice husky but filled with genuine concern. His hand cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing gently over her skin.

She laughed quietly, the sound warm and content. Her fingers trailed along his jawline, tracing the curve of his face as though committing it to memory. “Like I just discovered heaven,” she admitted, her smile widening. “And you?”

He grinned, leaning down to capture her lips in a lingering kiss. When he pulled back, his eyes held hers, dark and full of emotion. “Like the luckiest man alive,” he murmured, his voice thick with sincerity. “Because I get to call you mine.”

Her smile softened, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. She reached up to brush a strand of hair from his forehead, her touch achingly gentle. “You already had me,” she whispered. “Long before tonight.”

His throat tightened, and he kissed her again, slower this time, pouring every unspoken word into it. When they finally broke apart, he rested his forehead against hers, their breaths mingling in the quiet stillness of the room.

“I love you,” he said, the words slipping out before he could stop them. They weren’t planned, but they were true—so true it hurt.

Her breath hitched, and for a moment, she just stared at him, her eyes wide and searching. Then, slowly, a smile spread across her face, brighter than anything he’d ever seen. “I love you too,” she whispered back, her voice steady despite the tears pooling in her eyes.

He pulled her closer, wrapping his arms around her as though he never wanted to let go. And in that moment, with her head resting on his chest and her heartbeat echoing his own, he knew—this was where he belonged. With her. Always.

[paranoiddreams]

Somno, cnc?, voyeurism💪🏻, Satoru is a SICK FUCK for this

A/n!! - tbh, I just wrote this when I was high asf and the words came out on their own, and it might not even make sense. Idk what demon took over, but here, I hope you FREAKS enjoy this🤭

You’re just trying to take a nap on the couch while the tv plays episode after episode of RuPaul’s Drag Race—that literally all you’re trying to do. But once the sounds of soft grunts, and a shadow over your eyes, breaks through your sleeping state, you slowly wake up to see your roommate standing in front of you on the couch.

He’s not only standing though—he’s standing with his pants on the other side of the room, and his hand stroking his leaky cock furiously.

“Satoru?!” You grumble, coming back to awareness as shock floods through you. What exactly are you seeing right now? You’d ask yourself if you walked in on something you’re not supposed to see but…you didn’t walk in on anything. In fact, Satoru is the one who walked you into this situation.

“Fuck—finally, you’re awake…”

Satoru’s voice is husky, his breath’s coming out as heavy pants while he fucks his tight fist. Your eyes flicker down to his large hand, eyes widening when you see his even larger cock.

“Satoru!” You scream again, this time louder. “What the hell?!”

You try to hide your face in the pillow you were just peacefully snoozing on, but you suddenly feel fingers tangle in your hair and tug your head back, forcing you to look at the sight in front of you again.

“No, don’t be a baby,” Satoru pants, an amused smirk on his face showing off his pearly white canines, “look at me.”

Your gaze drifts back down, almost forcibly, to Satoru’s hand around his hard cock. He slows his strokes when your eyes widen, hissing softly.

“Fuck,” he moans, almost whimpers, “do you know how long I’ve been edging? Can’t even go a few minutes without stopping ‘cause I feel like I’m gonna cum already.”

You feel nearly all of your blood rush to your cheeks at his admission, even more so at the tone of his whiny voice.

“What-I-why??” You stutter, still wondering if this is some strange, sick dream.

The fingers in your hair tighten, lifting your face slightly to force your eyes on his.

“Why? Why what? Why am I stroking my dick, or why am I going to cum so quick?” He laughs, amused by your obviously flustered and confused state.

“Why all of it?!”

Satoru just huffs out a breath, rolling his eyes as if the answer was obvious. “You think you can just lay on my couch and sleep looking like that and I won’t react?”

Your heart is pounding violently, threatening to burst through your ribcage and out your chest. How someone could justify jerking off in front of someone else by simply saying they look attractive when they sleep is beyond you, but despite the horror and humiliation still running through your body, you can’t ignore the ache between your legs now.

Satoru seems to take notice to your flushed response, but instead of a witty remark, he lets out a soft moan, moving his hand over the leaking tip of his cock; he’s about to cum, and you can tell, especially by the way his fingers are tightening in your hair, but you somehow can’t find it in yourself to do anything by stare at his face contorted in blinding pleasure.

Then, before you can even process how fucking absurd this is, you feel something warm grace the flushed skin of your cheeks. You look down to see Satoru’s fist covered in the pearlescent aftermath of his voyeurism, like a shining trophy at the end of a race. His eyes are widened as he looks at what just happened—the evidence is all over your face anyways. Clarity hits him, and he feels a wave of embarrassment flood his body.

But at the same time, the realization makes his cock harden in his sticky hand again.

You just look too pretty like this, all surprised and questioning how this happened; but what makes him even more excited is the obvious signs that he’s not the only one enjoying this…

[heartsforjh]

CONGRATS ON 100 KIRBS <333 TO MANY MORE!

For your celly, can I request Luke and physical touch: “I thought you hated it when people touched you?” with reader on the receiving end (as in she's the one who isn't a fan of being touched)??

Thank you and good luck with your celly!!

THANK YOU! 🫶 now, 26 times. 26 times i fully listened to justin timberlake on repeat to produce this for you meg. also, while writing the part where reader couldn’t stay awake i actually fell asleep… 😭 anyways, i hope you enjoy. 🙏

You had met Luke at Umich not too long ago. Despite being quiet and unassuming around most people, he was rowdy and playful with your friend group, always bringing an easy energy to the room. He was funny, considerate, and far more polite than the average guy you’d met at your new university.

Today your friend group decided on hanging out in one of the larger dorms, so that there’s more room for everyone to actually fit. Luke, as usual, is roughhousing with his friends, their laughter echoing through the room. In the middle of their chaos, Luke accidentally bumps into you, nearly knocking you off balance.

“Oh, shit, my bad! I’m sorry Y/n,” he blurts, steadying you with wide, apologetic eyes.

“Lukey always finding excuses to touch his girlfriend.” Dylan teases, his grin wide and knowing.

“She’s not my girlfriend,” Luke shoots back instantly, looking a little flustered, his tone shifts into something firmer. “Don’t be weird like that. It’s not funny to make her uncomfortable.”

Turning back to you, his expression softens into a sheepish smile. “I really am sorry, Y/n. I’ll be more careful.”

You nod, offering a polite smile. “It’s okay.” You can tell he feels bad, but before you can say anything else, his friends pulled him back into their conversation. You stay quiet, still too shy to fully insert yourself, being new to this circle of people.

Later that day, the group bundles up for the cold weather and heads to the UMich football game. As everyone files into the bleachers, Luke maneuvers himself to stand next to you. It was hard not to notice, and you could easily hear Dylan snickering.

Luke rolls his eyes but doesn’t budge, determined to put himself out there. After a moment, he glances at you, his face softening when he notices your rosy cheeks from the cold.

“So, uh… is this your first football game? I mean, UMich game?” He stumbles, trying to get his question out without looking stupid, “You’ve probably been to other football games before, but… yeah, first here?”

You can’t help but smile at how nervous he seems. “Yeah. This is my first.”

His face lights up at your response. “Cool! You’ll like it! These games are a lot of fun.”

You tuck your hands deeper into your jacket pockets, shivering slightly. “I hope so. It’s freezing out here.”

Luke chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, Michigan weather can be brutal. You’ll get used to it, though! I grew up here… well, partly in Canada too. Oh, but I was born in New Hampshire. Not that it matters…” He trails off, fully aware that he’s rambling but powering through anyway. “What I’m saying is, I’m used to the cold. And don’t worry, these games are always worth it. My brothers and I go all the time. Actually, we’ve got a lake house we visit in the summer together too—maybe you could come with sometime!” He slows down, hoping he’s not coming off too strong. “You know, if you’re around.”

You listen patiently, letting him overshare whatever his heart desires, “I’ll probably go home over the summer since it’s my first year here, but I bet I could find time to visit for a bit somewhere in there.”

“Really? Yeah… yeah, that’d be cool,” he says, his smile growing. He glances down and realizes exactly how close he’d moved towards you while talking.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” he says, quickly shuffling back.

You don’t mind the closeness, but you weren’t gonna make it more awkward by telling him so. The two of you continued chatting, the conversation flowing naturally until the game ends and everyone decides to head back to their dorms.

A few days later, the group gathers at Luke’s place for a movie. You’re curled up in a beanbag, with Luke sitting next to you on the floor, his head resting against your seat. The movie drags on, and you find yourself nodding off.

However, your eyes quickly snap open when you feel a tap on your shoulder.

“Hey, do you want to help me make popcorn for everyone?” Luke asks softly. You nod, grateful for something to keep you awake. He stands and offers you his large hand, which you take without hesitation.

As he leads you into the kitchen, he glances back and notices you rubbing your eyes.

He laughs quietly. “Tired?”

You nod, stifling a yawn. He realizes he’s still holding your hand and quickly lets go, scratching the back of his neck. “Uh, sorry.”

“It’s fine,” you say, leaning against the counter as he grabs the popcorn supplies.

“You know, if you’re that tired, you can just crash in my room after this,” he offers casually, glancing at you.

Your eyes widen slightly. “Oh! No, you don’t have to do that.”

“I want to,” he insists, his tone genuine. “Those beanbags suck to sleep on. Trust me, I know—my brothers used to make me sleep on them when we were kids.”

You laugh softly. “Why?”

“Well I was the youngest, and sometimes I didn’t want to sleep in my own room at night…” He trails off, suddenly regretting his honesty.

“You were scared of the dark?” you tease, smile somehow looking even more amused than before.

“Monsters, actually,” he corrects, with mock indignation.

Your laughter bubbles out, the sound light and free. It’s the most you’ve laughed since coming to UMich, and Luke was beaming with pride at the sight of it.

When the popcorn is ready the two of you head back into the living room. The group eagerly grabs at the fresh bowl as you settle back into your beanbag. Unsurprisingly, not even two minutes pass before your eyes start drooping again.

A soft laugh from Luke is the last thing you register before you feel yourself being lifted. You instinctively tuck your head into the crook of his neck, his warmth lulling you further into sleep. He carries you upstairs with ease and gently lays you on his bed, carefully tucking the covers around you.

“Just get some sleep,” he murmurs quietly, mostly to himself.

As he turns to leave, you reach out and catch his hand. Your voice is soft, barely above a whisper. “Please stay,” you whisper. “You can lay with me.”

“Uh… are you sure? I can sleep on the beanbag. It’s not a big deal.” he says, hesitantly,

You frown, words laced with tired honesty. “I thought you hated sleeping on the bean bags?”

“I thought you hated when people touch you?” he counters softly, eyes searching yours.

“I do,” you admit. “But it’s okay when it’s you.”

His lips curve into a small, shy smile as he climbs into bed beside you. You waste no time cuddling into him, your head resting on his chest. One of his hands caresses your hair tenderly, while the other settles lightly on your lower back.

The two of you know this isn’t something “just friends” would do, but neither of you seem to mind. You were content with that in the moment. As you drift off to sleep, wrapped in his comforting presence, you decide the feelings you’re starting to acknowledge can wait until tomorrow.

tags: @beenucks @mainly-miracle @lukey-pookie-hughes43 @sweetestdesire @emsdevs @puckmedude @joesnumerouno @alex-wotton

join the taglist here! :)

[niilue]

Hello! Could I request dietfried, male reader, rimming and belly bulge?

— dietfried bougainvillea • violet evergarden

cw: sub dietfried, male reader, bratty sub, rimming, belly bulge, vocal dietfried, power dynamic, teasing, cursing

niilue’s 3k event

dietfried bougainvillea was a man of pride, someone who carried himself with icy dignity and arrogance. but here, stripped bare beneath you, his composure was nothing but a fragile veneer, cracking with every calculated touch.

his wrists were pinned above his head, and his legs trembled as they spread wide for you. his body, all lean muscle and pale skin, was already glistening with sweat. yet, despite the undeniable flush across his cheeks and the way his cock twitched against his stomach, his sharp tongue hadn’t given up.

“is that all you’ve got?” dietfried sneered, his voice breathless but defiant. the faintest quiver in his tone betrayed him. “i thought you’d at least try to impress me.”

you smirked, dragging your hands down his thighs, deliberately slow, watching his muscles tense under your touch. “you really think you’re still in control, don’t you?”

“i don’t think, i know,” he spat, though the hitch in his breath as your hands gripped the back of his thighs said otherwise. he was shaking now, his body betraying his bratty words.

“we’ll see about that,” you murmured, leaning down between his legs.

────⋆⋅☆⋅���──

the first swipe of your tongue against his tight entrance drew a gasp from his lips, sharp and involuntary. his cock twitched violently, precum leaking onto his stomach as his body jolted at the sensation.

“f-fuck—” his voice cracked, his head falling back against the pillow. “d-don’t—ahh—don’t think this means you’ve won.”

you didn’t reply. instead, you pressed your tongue deeper, dragging it slowly over his entrance before swirling around it with deliberate precision. dietfried’s hips bucked instinctively, and a choked moan escaped him.

“shit… ngh—fuck, stop…” he groaned, his hands clawing at the sheets above his head. but his legs fell open wider, and his breath hitched every time your tongue pushed just a little deeper. “goddamn it… you’re such an asshole…”

“you’re enjoying this, though,” you said, your voice muffled against his skin. you kissed his hole, your tongue flicking out again to trace the sensitive ring of muscle. “look at how much you’re shaking.”

“i’m not—ahhn—shut up!” dietfried snapped, though his protests dissolved into a guttural groan as your fingers slid between his cheeks, teasing his tight entrance before pressing inside. his back arched sharply, and his thighs trembled uncontrollably as you stretched him open, slow and deliberate.

“fuck—ngh, it’s too much,” he gasped, his voice unsteady. “i—ahhh—shit…”

────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──

by the time you lined yourself up, his sharp tongue had been replaced by broken, desperate moans. his cock was leaking steadily, and his legs quivered as they wrapped around your hips, pulling you closer.

“say it,” you commanded, pressing the head of your cock against his stretched entrance. “say you want this.”

“fuck you,” dietfried hissed, though his defiance was ruined by the way his hips rolled toward you, trying to take more.

you grinned. “fine. i’ll make you beg for it.”

you pushed in slowly, the thick head of your cock breaching him inch by inch. dietfried let out a loud, guttural cry, his hands flying to grip your shoulders as his body clenched around you.

“ahhh—fuck! shit, it’s—nghh—too big!” he gasped, his voice rising in pitch. his nails dug into your skin, his legs tightening around your waist as you continued to sink deeper.

“you can take it,” you murmured, your voice low and steady as you leaned over him. your hand pressed down on his stomach, just below his navel, and you felt the faint outline of your cock bulging against his skin.

“see that?” you said, pressing down just enough to make him gasp. “you’re so damn tight... mmm"

dietfried’s head snapped up, his wide, glassy eyes darting to where your hand rested on his abdomen. his breath hitched, and a high-pitched moan escaped him, sharp and unrestrained.

“shut up—nghh—don’t say shit like that!” he whined, his voice cracking as you began to move. every slow, deliberate thrust made the bulge more pronounced, and his body arched into you, chasing the pressure despite his words.

“you’re so fucking desperate,” you teased, leaning down to bite his neck. “listen to yourself.”

“fuck you,” dietfried hissed again, though his moans betrayed him. “ahh—ahhh! goddamn it—more!”

────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──

your pace quickened, each thrust deep and deliberate, drawing louder, more frantic noises from his lips. his hands clawed at your back, his body arching with every movement. the bulge in his stomach shifted with each thrust, and his cock leaked precum onto his abdomen.

“ahh—fuck, i—nghh—ahhh!” dietfried’s voice cracked again as his body trembled beneath you. “it’s too much—it’s—ahhh!”

“you can handle it,” you murmured, gripping his hips tightly as you drove deeper. “you’re doing so good, dietfried. taking all of me like this.”

“shut up!” he cried, though his tone was needy, almost pleading. his legs locked around your waist, pulling you closer as his body clenched around you. “don’t—ahhh!—don’t stop…”

“say it,” you commanded again, your thrusts growing rougher. “say you want it.”

“i—ahhn—fuck, i want it!” dietfried finally screamed, his voice hoarse and desperate. “please—please, don’t stop!”

“good boy,” you growled, leaning down to kiss him roughly. his moans were muffled against your lips, his hands gripping your hair as he kissed you back with equal desperation.

────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──

he came first.

with a loud, broken cry, dietfried’s body arched off the bed, his cock twitching violently as he spilled over his stomach and chest. his moans were high-pitched and breathless, his legs trembling as he rode out the waves of his climax.

but you didn’t stop.

each thrust drew more desperate whimpers from him, his overstimulated body shuddering with every movement. the bulge in his stomach shifted with each thrust, and his moans turned to sobs of pleasure.

“ahh—ahhh! fuck—too much—ahhh!” dietfried babbled, his hands weakly pushing against your chest. “i can’t—nghh—i can’t…”

“yes, you can,” you murmured, gripping his hips tightly as you thrust harder. “you’re going to take it.”

“ahhh—fuck, fuck—” dietfried’s voice cracked, and his head fell back against the pillow. his entire body trembled as you pushed him further, his moans turning into incoherent cries of pleasure.

when you finally came, burying yourself deep inside him, dietfried let out a loud, broken sob, his body trembling as he felt your warmth flood him.

────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──

afterward, he lay completely wrecked beneath you, his chest heaving and his skin flushed. his sharp tongue was silent now, replaced by quiet, breathless whimpers.

“you’re such a mess,” you teased, brushing a strand of hair from his face.

“shut up…” dietfried muttered weakly, though his voice was soft, almost affectionate. “just… shut up.”

you smirked, leaning down to kiss his forehead. “whatever you say.”

word count: 1,097

[delaware-lemme-smash]

Ooh, excellent question! Poor Hawks, he can't catch a break, can he?

Characters: Takami Keigo/Hawks

Contents: fake dating, angst

Takami Keigo/Hawks

This is absolutely the kind of stunt the Commission would try to pull. Hawks, like most high-ranking Pro Heroes will have a publicist and chances are high for that person either working for the Commission directly or the PR agency being a third-party contractor of the Commission. Once they have their hooks in you, they do not let you go. 

For whatever reason, they decide their top Pro needs to be seen to be dating another Pro Hero. Maybe the other Pro has tanking ratings or it’s part of some deeper game. Whatever it is, Hawks doesn’t have much choice but to go along with it.

Another factor is whether or not the Commission knows you’re in a relationship with Hawks. He might have no choice to tell them, but I feel that if there was an opportunity to keep you a secret from them, he would. He doesn’t want them to have control over your life as well as his. And I’m sure he’d want to have a piece of his life that’s just for him, not for the Commission’s goals or the public’s consumption. 

It causes him no small amount of angst, having to sit you down and explain to you what they’re going to make him do. He dreads having to tell you, having to see the look on your face when you hear that he’ll be posing as some other person’s boyfriend. It’s hard enough, having to share him with the Commission and his endless work and his ravenous fans. Now you have to watch him post couple pics on Instagram with someone else. Or go on cute little dates where the paparazzi just so happen to stumble across the two heroes enjoying totally not sponsored smoothies. 

It’s maddening, to say the least. Hawks hates every second of it. 

While he’s not rude or hostile to the person he’s fake-dating, he’s not his usual lively, flirtatious self, because he knows every minute he spends with them is affecting you. His very little free time is being eaten up by this media-pandering bullshit, and he hates it.

There are a few ways he can go about making things easier. 

One, he’ll never take fake-girlfriend anywhere that he takes you. Your favourite little haunts and hangouts will never be tarnished by a photoshoot that ends up splashed across the front of Hero Weekly. 

Two, he’s honest with the fake-girlfriend. She has to know this is just a business arrangement, a contractual obligation. He already has a partner, and he’ll only be doing the bare minimum to make it look real for the cameras.

Three, he’ll set a deadline on it with the Commission. He can swing it by saying that all this prancing around for the cameras is affecting his performance. How’s he supposed to fight villains if he has to spend all his time doing photoshoots with Ultragleam or Mochigirl, or whoever they want to set him up with this week. 

Four, he can try and introduce the fake-girlfriend to you, so there’s no weird feeling of sneaking around. So you can set your own boundaries on what you are and aren’t comfortable with.

Despite all this? It’s still gonna suck.

There’s no way it doesn’t hurt to see your boyfriend posting cutesy photos with another hero. Fans will be gushing on social media, coming up with ship names, posting edits with sparkly effects and slow-mo reverb love songs playing over the top, filled with comments like “OMG THE WAY HE LOOKS AT HER!” 

The only way to make it bearable is to imagine he’s playing a character, like he’s the male lead in a romantic K-Drama, and fake-girlfriend is just his co-star. It’s true, in a way. Even if they’re attending events together and posting (staged) shots on the beach, holding hands, it’s all fake. 

When he comes home to you after a long day of patrolling, exhausted after an intense villain fight, and collapses facedown on the couch, head on your lap, wings askew, only to tiredly ask about your day and beg you to order chicken skewers? That’s real. 

[metyouinthehallway]

𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫!𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬

Warnings: smut but I think that’s it?

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

જ⁀➴ Bartender!chris who… makes sure you get home safe.

“Text me when you get home, m’kay?” He pulls you in for a hug, placing a chaste kiss to your hair. He knows damn well that a plethora of disgusting men walk in and out of those club doors every night. Some of them being much worse than others. Chris will wait all night long until he gets that ‘home safe’ text from you.

જ⁀➴ Bartender!chris who… will always have your dirty martini ready.

He knows that you love those martinis, each shift he works with you, he shows up just a few minutes early so he can make you that cocktail.

“Ready for a good shift?” He asks, handing you the glass. A small grin plastered on his lips. He knows those martinis are the highlight of your shift.

“So very ready.” you smile at Chris, biting the olive off of the toothpick. You glass sits behind the bar until you finish it through out your shift. Chris intently keeping an eye on it to ensure no customers try to slip something in your glass.

જ⁀➴ Bartender!chris who… takes you on dates but never makes you pay.

Whether it be a long drive or a simple dinner, Chris loves to spend time with you. The more you got to know each other during work, the more he realized he liked you. When he finally grew the balls to ask you out, the first place he took you was a local diner.

Chris opens the diner door for you, noticing your casual outfit, he’d rarely ever seen you outside of your theatrical and intricate lingerie. Seeing you in jeans and a t-shirt was refreshing, reminding him that you weren’t just your occupation.

Throughout the date, he’d ask you about your life outside of work, your hobbies, your interests. Even your family. Never once flipping the conversation on himself, he wants to know everything there is to know about you.

“What’re you doing?” He asks, seeing you reach for your wallet.

“I’m paying for my food…?” You look at him as if he should’ve known that but oh, silly you! There’s no way in hell he’s letting you pay for yourself.

“Put it away, pretty girl.” Chris chirps, placing his own card on the table.

જ⁀➴ Bartender!chris who… loves when you’re on top.

“O-oh…fuck.” Chris groans, letting his head fall back against the pillow. His fingers digging into your hips as you rock back and forth on his dick.

“Just like that…shit- pretty girl…” he struggles to form a complete sentence, the feeling of your walls squeezing around his cock is pure bliss to him.

Chris stares in awe as your tits bounce in front of his eyes, he’d take this over doggy any day.

જ⁀➴ Bartender!chris who… doesn’t admit your dating but sure does act like it.

“So… we’re together?” You giggle into his chest. The two of you lay in his bed, snuggled up against each other.

“How many times you gonna ask me that?” He snickers, despite his words, he pulls you impossibly closer to his body, running a hand up and down your arm.

“Until you admit it.” You mutter into his bare chest. You don’t just cuddle skin to skin with your coworkers…

જ⁀➴ Bartender!chris who… can’t control himself.

The club had closed an hour ago and he couldn’t stop staring at you the entire night. The specific outfit you wore tonight was a lace bodysuit, it hugged your figure in all the right places and Chris was looking forward to fucking you in his car later tonight.

“Chris! S-shit…!” You squeal, his hips jackhammering into your pussy at an alarming rate. He looks down at where you’re connected, the base of his cock covered in a ring of white from your previous orgasm.

“Fuck, feel you squeezin’ me so good…” he grunts, his thumb rubbing vigorous circles on your clit in the backseat of his car. The bartender didn’t slow his pace once. He needed to see you fucked dumb on his cock.

“Can’t… Oh! Oh, my god!” Your nails claw at his shoulder blades, back arching into his chest as you feel his tip hit your cervix. Your sounds only encourage him to quicken his pace, the car shaking violently as he does so.

“Looked so sexy t’night ma- fuck, you feel so good,” Chris praises, burying his head in your neck. “Want me to fill you up?” His breath tickles the skin on your neck when he speaks.

Shit, you loved when he fucked you like this.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

A/n: got a wee bit carried away with the last one I had to stop myself.

[tateypots]

Uncle Tommy's Mistake

18+ MDNI

Pairing: Dark!Joel Miller x f!reader, Dark!Tommy Miller x f!reader

Word count: 3k

A/N: Part 6 of Collared. Same as before, it’s dark so please heed the warnings and skip if it’s not for you.

Look. I don't know what happened here. This is not what I originally planned for this installment. I sat down to write and this is what came out. Less smut than usual (I'm sorry), also I think I may have gaslighted everyone into expecting blowjobs this chapter (and that is what I planned) but these 3 had their own ideas, I don't know what to tell you. Blowjobs for everyone in the next chapter, I promise.

Summary: Tommy's plans for you go awry.

Warnings: Non-Con, dark Joel, dark Tommy, kidnapping, daddy kink, uncle kink, restraints, oral (f!receiving), joint showering, masturbation (m), cum eating, gaslighting, manipulation, orgasm denial, discussion of blowjobs and training. Let me know if I missed any.

Part 5 Series Masterlist

You had to fight back tears as the lock of your collar snapped shut. Joel had insisted on a shower after your nap and now after the brief reprieve the feel of the metal against your neck felt suffocating. Normally you wouldn’t hold back, you’d let the tears flow but you were trying so hard not to ruin the goodwill you had built with him over the last few hours.

He dressed in silence while you sat on the bed hugging your knees watching him, unable to think of anything to say despite your earlier intimacy. When he finished buttoning his flannel he came over to you, tipping your head back with a finger under your chin and planting a kiss on your forehead. You hated how much that one simple action made you melt for him.

“You’ve been a real good girl f’me baby, Uncle Tommy will be in soon, I know you’ll be good for him too.”

Your heart sank at his words. A small piece of you had hoped that once you’d surrendered yourself to Joel that he’d claim you completely, that you wouldn’t have to repeat the same painful process with his brother. You should have known better.

He stared at you intently, waiting for a response so you just swallowed and give a jerky nod. With a smirk he leant in to give you another kiss, on the cheek this time, before making his way over to the door. As he shrugged on his coat you plucked up the courage to repeat your question from earlier, “Daddy, what will happen to me when you don’t want me anymore?”

He finished buttoning his coat before responding.

“You just keep being my good girl and you’ll never have to find out.”

______________________________________________________________

Tommy smirked as Joel exited the cabin and stalked over to him.

“I take it from the way I heard her screamin’ earlier that she was a good girl for you?” he asked as a weary Joel draped himself over the fence of the pig pen, a satisfied grin painting his face.

“She was a real good girl, fucked me within an inch of my life.”

Tommy’s cock twitched in his pants as he imagined you doing the same for him. He almost told Joel to take care of the rest of the chores on his own, aching to be inside you again, to feel you come around his cock. He’d missed it so fucking much.

“She’s a bit sore so might have to take it easy for a little while.”

Tommy’s face fell in disappointment before a grin spread across his face. “That mean I can start trainin’ her throat?”

“Go for it brother,” Joel huffed a laugh, “just go easy on her to start with. Been a big day, don’t want to ruin all our progress.”

“Yeah, yeah I’ll behave, promise.” Joel raised his eyebrows at him, disbelief written clear all over his face.

Tommy heaved an exasperated sigh. He knew Joel’s doubt was not entirely unfounded, Tommy had not been known for his restraint even before the outbreak. But he planned to take it nice and slow with your training. He wanted you to love sucking his cock, wanted you drooling from both ends for him. He knew that would be hard to achieve if he traumatised you on the first attempt.

“Look, scouts honour ok. I’m gona do this properly, you’ll see, by the time you get your first go she’ll be givin’ the best damn blow jobs you’ve ever had.”

“Interestin’. You seem awful cocky, care to make a bet?”

“What are the terms?”

“Winner gets her to themselves. Full 24 hours.”

“How do I know you’ll play fair? Could just say it wasn’t the best and take her for yourself for the day.”

“Tommy, if I’m able to think clearly enough to hide how much I’m enjoyin’ it, it won’t be the best blowjob of my life. If it is, she’ll suck all the deceitful thoughts right out through my cock, keep me honest.”

Tommy mulled it over for a second, “ok, you’re on. But I get to decide when she’s ready,” he agreed as they shook on it. “Now, tell me all about how it went down in there earlier, I need something to think about while I finish my jobs.”

Joel gave Tommy an edited highlight of your afternoon romp. He left out the part where you squirted on him. If Tommy put in enough effort he’d find out you could do it for himself but part of Joel hoped he would never make that discovery, that it would stay a little secret between the two of you. He didn’t think he had to worry about you spilling the beans to his brother. He’d had to explain to you what had happened when you’d awoken from your nap, still covered in your dried release. The sight of your confused face scrunched up in embarrassment made his possessiveness flare. He loved how innocent you were despite all he’d done to corrupt your body.

He did tell Tommy about how he’d eaten you out in the shower after he’d washed you, about how red and swollen your pussy was after keeping him inside for so long. He left out the part where once you’d come on his tongue he forced you to your knees and told you to hold your tongue out for him to frantically jerk his cum onto. Because although he’d promised Tommy that his cock would be the first in your mouth, he’d been very careful not to promise that Tommy’s cum would be the first you’d taste.

By the time Joel finished Tommy was rock hard, his dick pressing painfully against the zipper of his jeans. Joel took pity on him, waving him away from his latest task of splitting logs for the fire.

“Go on inside, you’ve done most of the work today, s’only fair.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, she’s waitin’ on you anyway.”

Gleefully Tommy handed over the axe and scurried towards the cabin, already working on his belt. Once inside he wasted no time stripping off his coat boots and jeans. You were sat hugging your knees again as he stalked over to the bed, wearing only his flannel and boxers. He flopped down on the bed next to you, gently stroking your shin.

“Lay down next to me princess, c’mon,” he sighed, coaxing you onto you side so you were facing him. He gently brushed your hair out of your face before cupping your cheek in his big hand.

“I know todays been a lot princess but you’ve been such a good girl. Your Daddy told me that you and him had a chat and got some things cleared up. You feelin’ better about everythin’ now?”

“A little bit.”

“Been a hard few weeks for you I know princess. Been hard for me too, you know that?”

You wanted to laugh in his face, unsure what suffering he’d had to endure while still getting to use your body to get his rocks off. Usually several times a day. But your self-preservation instinct had kicked in strong and Joel’s thinly veiled threat from earlier was still ringing in your ears. They wanted a good girl and all out of other options at this point you had no choice but to be that for them. So instead you simply shook your head asked, “why?”

He pulled you in closer to him with his arm wrapped around your back so your head was nestled in the crook of his neck.

“Well because I couldn’t hold my princess like this, couldn’t cover her in smooches an’ tell her what a good girl she is, how proud I am of her. Couldn’t make her come, and I wanted to so, so bad.” He gently pushed you away from him and dipped his head to catch your eye.

“Will you let me make it up to you now princess?”

You wondered what he’d do if you said no. If he would skulk back outside and leave you be. Doubtful. Your poor pussy was aching from earlier but you knew it would only make things worse if you didn’t comply. So you nodded and rolled onto your back, spreading your legs wide for him.

“Oh princess, such a good girl.” He knelt between your knees and pouted as he looked down at your spread cunt. “Oh honey she’s all red and puffy.”

“I’m a bit sore,” you told him honestly.

“Yeah darlin’ I bet. But don’ worry I’m not gona fuck you.”

“You’re not?” you asked gently, genuinely confused as to what was happening.

“No princess, you’re hurtin’ and I wouldn’t be makin’ it up to you if I make it worse. Your Daddy told me he tried kissin’ it better earlier, did you like that?”

You honestly didn’t know how to answer that. When Joel had put his mouth on you down there you’d been slightly disgusted. You still were a little. But you had to admit that it had felt nice so you settled on an honest, “it made me come,” which Tommy took as a yes.

“Ok princess, you just lie back and enjoy yourself then, I’m gona make you feel so good.”

To your surprise he didn’t dive straight for your pussy, instead he leaned over you and latched his mouth over your left nipple, teasing the bud with his tongue until it hardened for him, while gently squeezing your other breast in his large hand. After everything you had been deprived of the last few weeks the soft touches felt incredible, you couldn’t stop the small moans that escaped as pangs of arousal radiated through you.

“Mmmmm such beautiful tits,” he murmured as he trailed kisses across your chest, making his way over to your other nipple. “Gona fuck these titties one day princess,” he told you. You had no idea what he meant by that but before the confusion could fully take hold he sucked the peak of your right nipple into his mouth, teeth grazing it ever so slightly. Your mind emptied and your hips bucked towards him, your clit throbbing and begging for friction, overriding the ache in your pussy.

He chuckled into your chest. “Yeah that’s it honey, feelin’ good now ain’t ya?” He chuckled again when he saw you nod your head. He detached himself from your breast and blazed a path of open mouthed kisses down over your belly and hips until he reached your mound. He inhaled deeply making you squirm in embarrassment underneath him. You felt so exposed with his face so close to your pussy but Tommy seemed completely oblivious to your discomfort.

“Mmmmmm you smell so fuckin’ good princess, bet you taste just as sweet,” he groaned as he gently spread your lips with his thumbs.

“Prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen,” he said, almost to himself before leaning forward and licking a thick stripe from your hole to your throbbing clit. Your moans reverberate around the room, hands fisting in the sheets as he repeated the action several times.

You cry out and your hips jolt upwards as he wraps his lips around your clit and gently sucks. You’re still sensitive from all the attention you received from Joel and as Tommy’s tongue starts circling and flicking your clit you feel the tension build within you. You don’t hold back the moans that fall from you, you’re lost in the sensations being lavished upon you. Just as you feel the pressure is about to boil over he pulls away, licking and kissing his way down your seam.

“NOOO!” you cry out as tears start to fall. You cannot do this again, the endless torture of denied rapture and you start to sob and chant “no, no, no.”

“Shhhh princess, it’s ok,” he tells your pussy, lightly teasing your entrance with his tongue, entranced by the look, smell and taste of you. “Don’t worry honey, I’ve got you, just need to enjoy you like this for a little bit longer.” With that he gently pushes his tongue inside of you, edging the hot muscle around your walls before withdrawing and doing it again and again.

You moan and choke through your sobs, distraught and desperate, too strung out to hear and comprehend his reassurances. Recognising he may have pushed you too far Tommy changes tack, working to get you off as quickly as he can, his tongue fucking into you with abandon as his thumb settles on your clit rubbing fast circles into the engorged bud.

Your hips grind into his face with a mind of their own, your body chasing its high independent of your mind which is still lost in a sea of panic and despair. He growls into your aching cunt as you rut against him, his cock throbbing and leaking in his boxers.

You come with a cry, your back arching off the bed as the waves wash over you. Tommy keeps tight hold of your hips, working you through your high with his tongue. As you come back to yourself you wriggle and squirm away from him, curling yourself into a tight ball and sobbing your heart out, more distressed than you’ve been since those first few days after they took you. Tommy tries to coax you into looking at him whilst babbling apologies.

“WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON IN HERE?” Joel booms from the doorway, not bothering to take off his jacket or boots before storming over to the bed and scooping you into his arms. You’re shaking in his lap as your hands fist in his jacket and you bury your face into his chest, mewling a soft “Daddy,” through your tears.

“Did you hurt her?” he spits at Tommy, his fury evident on his face.

“No, of course not,” Tommy rushes to defend himself, “I edged her. I didn’t mean to, I just… she tasted so fucking good and I didn’t want to stop. I didn’t think.”

“Jesus Christ Tommy. After she’s been so good this is what you do to her?”

Tommy could kick himself for being so stupid. He should be balls deep in your mouth right now, not getting a telling off from his brother. He hadn’t thought about the impact these last few weeks would really have on you, too wrapped up in his own annoyance at not being able to feel you come around his cock. He needs to make this right. His dreams of you delighting in choking on his cock and riding him into oblivion are at stake.

And though he’d never admit it, looking at the way you cling to Joel he feels the first pangs of jealousy clawing at his chest. You were a shared resource. You weren’t supposed to favour one over the other. But through his own stupidity he’d driven you straight into his brothers waiting arms. Desperate to redeem himself, he starts grovelling, hoping that now you have calmed down somewhat he can salvage something from the wreckage.

“Princess please look at me, let me apologise properly,” he coos, crouching down so he’s level with you.

Joel coaxes your face out from his chest, “I think you should hear him out baby, I think he’s really sorry.”

You look at Joel for a moment before turning your head to Tommy without responding. Tommy heaves a relieved sigh before launching into his apology.

“I’m so, so, sorry princess. I wasn’t thinkin��� clearly. I was supposed to be making it up to you and I got selfish. I promise it won’t happen again, please forgive me.”

You look at him, bleary eyed and exhausted, chewing on your bottom lip. He looks and sounds sincere in his apology, regret and remorse splashed across his features. Something you had not expected. You also had to give him credit that once he had realised you were upset he had worked to correct it and give you the release you needed at that moment. You realised with surprise that you believed him. This wasn’t another manipulation, another way to punish you, it was a mistake made in the heat of the moment.

“I forgive you.” You ignored the voice in your head that told you it didn't matter either way.

Tommy sighed in relief, plopping himself down on the bed next to Joel, stretching out his arms.

“Come give me a cuddle princess.”

You look up at Joel, not really wanting to leave the comfortable seat of his lap but he leans forward to plant a kiss on your forehead before tapping your thigh to get you to stand up and patting your backside in his brother’s direction. You go without a fight and Tommy pulls you into his lap, wrapping his arms around you as Joel heads back outside.

As you get comfortable you think about Tommy’s seemingly genuine apology and the way Joel had rushed to you when he thought you were hurt. Perhaps you could be more than just their fuck toy. It seemed like there may be some genuine care in their actions. The thought sent a comforting warmth through your body as you relaxed into Tommy’s chest.

“I really am sorry princess, what can I do to make it up to you?”

“No more today, please Uncle Tommy!” you begged.

“No, no princess, that ain’t what I meant. No more of that today I promise. What can I do to show you how sorry I am?” he asked, choosing to ignore the way his cock twitched as you called him Uncle Tommy for the first time.

You thought about it for a minute before mumbling into his neck, “could you get me a book?”

“A book?”

“Yeah. It gets a bit boring waiting around for you to finish your chores.”

“Yeah princess I can get you a book,” he promises, the green eyed monster within him retreating to its cave as you snuggle into him, “I’ll get you a whole goddamn library.”

______________________________________________________________

I've added some people who showed an interest to the tag list, please let me know if you want to be removed.

@aurorawritestoescape @milla-frenchy @oldloganslittleslut @mrs-hardy-hunnam-butler-pascal @axshadows @justajoelsreader @ahintofkiwistrawberry @guelyury @rosebuds-and-moonlight @koshkaj-blog @shivispunk @ivoryandflame @tammythr @magpiepills

[cheeseatlantic]

hi guys tell me im funny because this is the banner for today ty HAW AHAW HAW HAW HAW

SLOW DOWN (PT 2)

The door clicks shut behind him, and you sit there for a moment, pulse racing, trying to piece yourself back together after the storm he just left in his wake. But you’re not the type to let him walk away unscathed. Not tonight.

Your feet hit the floor as you move with purpose, crossing the room and wrenching the door open. He hasn’t made it far—just down the hallway, hands in his pockets, shoulders tense despite his casual posture.

“Johnny.” Your voice cuts through the air, sharp and commanding.

He stops in his tracks, turning his head slightly to glance at you over his shoulder. The smirk that had been on his face earlier is gone, replaced by something darker, something hungrier.

You take a step forward, your bare feet silent against the cold floor. “You really think you can walk away after that?”

His lips twitch, and he turns fully to face you, the shadows in the hallway making him look almost predatory. “And what’s it ye think I’ve done, hmm?”

“You know exactly what,” you snap, your voice trembling with frustration and desire.

He lets out a low chuckle, the sound reverberating through the narrow space. “Careful, lass. You’re playin’ a dangerous game.”

You close the distance between you in a few quick steps, grabbing the front of his shirt and pulling him down to your level. His breath ghosts across your lips as you glare up at him. “Maybe I’m not the only one playing.”

His hand shoots up to grip your wrist, firm but not painful, and his eyes bore into yours with an intensity that makes your knees weak. “You’ve no idea what you’re gettin’ yourself into.”

“Then show me,” you challenge, your voice barely above a whisper.

That’s all it takes to break the fragile thread of control holding him back. He surges forward, capturing your lips in a searing kiss that’s all teeth and heat and desperation. His hands are everywhere—gripping your waist, tangling in your hair, pressing you back against the wall as if he can’t get close enough.

You moan into his mouth, your fingers curling into his shirt to pull him closer. He takes the opportunity to deepen the kiss, his tongue sliding against yours in a way that makes your head spin.

“Bedroom,” he mutters against your lips, his voice rough and thick with need.

“Too far,” you gasp, tugging him closer.

He groans, low and guttural, and his hands slide down to the backs of your thighs. Without warning, he lifts you effortlessly, pinning you against the wall as your legs wrap around his waist. The friction as he presses into you has you biting back a whimper, but he hears it anyway and smirks against your neck.

“Still think I’m easy to rile up?” he murmurs, his lips brushing against your skin.

“Shut up,” you manage, but the words are breathless, almost a plea.

He grins, his teeth grazing the sensitive spot just below your ear. “Make me.”

And you do, pulling him back into another kiss that’s all-consuming, leaving both of you tangled in the fire you started.

i didnt know if it wojld all fit jnto one part so like its gonna be three yuh like go to my masterlist for part one through whatever

[moonandst4rs]

"Isn't it strange, how people can change"

── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ──── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

Part two - "I am still me ,You are still you, In the same place"

Warnings: Angst, Slight comfort, no use of y/n, gn!reader x Dean Winchester,

A/N: Inspired by Strange - Celeste. I've started trying to write a little more. As always any feedback and requests are welcome !! Reblogs and comments are very much appreciated <3

── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ──── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

The familiar creak of Bobby Singer’s door echoed softly in the quiet night as Sam and Dean Winchester stepped inside. The smell of old books, faint traces of beer, and the comforting weight of time spent here filled the space. But tonight, everything felt different. You were there, sitting on the couch with a book in your hands, your fingers absentmindedly tracing the edges of its pages, the quiet of the room a stark contrast to the storm brewing beneath the surface.

Dean’s presence hit you before his eyes even met yours. It had been months. Months since the argument that had torn everything apart. There were things you’d never said, things that were left to fester, the silence between you both louder than any words could have been.

When you finally looked up, you met his gaze. That familiar ache returned instantly, twisting deep in your chest, as if time hadn’t passed at all. Dean’s eyes softened when they locked with yours, but there was something different there now—an emptiness, a wall you hadn’t noticed before.

“Hey,” you said softly, the word tasting foreign on your tongue, like something you hadn’t spoken in ages.

“Hey,” Dean answered, his voice a rough whisper, as though the weight of the past was holding him back. The space between you seemed impossibly wide, despite him standing just feet away.

Sam cleared his throat, breaking the tension before it could sink too deep. “Bobby, we need your help. It’s getting worse. Demons—stronger, more aggressive. We’re running out of time.”

Bobby, with his usual gruffness, ignored the unspoken rift between you and Dean. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll get to it,” he muttered, rummaging through his cluttered desk. But even he couldn’t ignore the invisible distance that hung in the air. His eyes flicked between you and Dean, silent and knowing, but he said nothing more.

You stood slowly, as if waking from a dream, the space between you and Dean still too fragile, too thin. The mission, the hunt—it felt distant now, as if something else, something unspoken, was pulling at you both. You tried to focus, but the air was thick with everything that had been left unsaid.

Dean moved toward you, his footsteps heavy, but when he reached you, he stopped. “You okay?” he asked, the words tentative, careful, like he wasn’t sure if he had the right to ask. His voice had softened, the hardness from before gone, replaced with something… almost vulnerable.

You turned to him, the words caught in your throat. You wanted to tell him everything, about how hard it had been, about how much you missed him, about the ache that had grown in the silence between you. But instead, you forced a breath out, the lie coming easier than you’d like. “I’m fine.”

Dean’s eyes searched yours, lingering for a moment before he gave a slight nod, turning away to join Sam and Bobby. But the distance between you didn’t feel like it had moved at all. It was still there, a chasm that neither of you seemed ready to cross.

You stepped outside, the cool night air brushing against your skin, but it did little to ease the heat inside you. The hunt, the demons—they should have been the focus, but the unresolved space between you and Dean consumed everything. It clung to you, like an old song that you couldn’t shake, a melody of things lost and never quite found.

The gravel crunched underfoot as you walked, hands in your pockets, eyes fixed on the horizon. Focus. That was what Bobby would say. But how could you, when everything felt like it was slipping away? And then you heard the steps. Slow, deliberate, the sound of someone who knew you so well they didn’t need to speak to make their presence known.

“I thought you might need some air,” Dean’s voice came softly from behind you. It was different this time, quieter, like he wasn’t sure how to approach you anymore, he wasn't sure he was allowed to.

You didn’t turn, staring out into the night, a vast expanse that seemed to mirror the distance between you both. “Did you ever think we’d be here?” you asked, your voice barely a whisper. “After everything?”

Dean didn’t answer right away. He simply stood behind you, his presence a shadow in the stillness. The silence between you two stretched out, and for a moment, everything else faded. There was only the sound of the wind and the aching distance between you both. “I didn’t think I’d have to,” he said finally, his voice rough with regret. “But here we are. And I… I don’t know how to fix it, but I want to try.”

His words hung in the air, fragile and heavy. You felt them more than you heard them, a quiet confession that cut through the layers of silence. You wanted to respond, wanted to say so much, but you couldn’t find the words. It was like trying to catch a dream before it faded completely. You turned to face him then, but the look in his eyes held you in place. The wall between you, while still standing, wasn’t as solid as it had been. Maybe it never had been.

“We didn’t come out here for this,” you said, trying to steady your breath, trying to pull back from the pull of everything unsaid. “There’s a job to do.”

Dean didn’t push. He didn’t try to make it harder, didn’t try to break down the wall. Instead, he just nodded, his eyes never leaving yours. “Yeah, I know. But when this is over, when we make it through…maybe we can talk. For real this time.”

You nodded slowly, the lump in your throat hard to swallow. “We’ll see.”

And with that, the space between you two shifted. It wasn’t a resolution, not yet, but it was a crack. A chance. Something. And maybe that was all you could ask for.

Inside, Sam and Bobby were already preparing, weapons spread across the table. The hunt was waiting, and the demons were still out there. But as you walked back toward the house, side by side with Dean, something felt different. The past wasn’t gone, but it didn’t feel as heavy as it had before. The longing was still there, still aching, but now there was a flicker of something else—maybe hope. Maybe.

You didn’t know what would happen next, but one thing was clear; the story between you and Dean was far from over. Not yet. Not while there was still something left to say.

[mattnickchrisfan]

the games we play - m.s

warnings: pure fluff, tension, dirty talk (not in a sexual way just like flirty banter)

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

"The Games We Play"

Matt Sturniolo had never been the type to chase people. It wasn’t his style—he was chill, laid-back, and let things come naturally. But then… you walked into his life.

It started innocently enough. You were a part of their usual group of friends, someone who everyone liked and who always seemed to be the center of attention. Matt would catch glimpses of you during hangouts, never thinking much of it. You had that reputation, after all—flirty, charming, and the kind of person who never stayed too long in one place. You didn’t get too attached to anyone.

And then, one day, his world shifted.

It was a typical Friday night at Nick’s place, the usual mix of friends piled up on the couch, chatting, laughing, the room filled with comfortable chaos. Matt was at the far end, trying his best to focus on a game, but every time he looked up, there you were—talking to someone, laughing, throwing that playful look around the room, as if you had the power to make everyone hang on your every word.

But when your eyes landed on him, the air shifted. The playful glint in your eyes held something else—a challenge, maybe. You leaned back against the couch, your attention now fixed solely on Matt.

“Hey, Matt,” you said, voice low, teasing. “You seem awfully quiet tonight. Something on your mind?”

Matt’s heart skipped, and he nearly choked on the soda he was sipping. He wasn’t sure if it was your tone or the way you were looking at him, but it made his stomach tighten in ways he didn’t want to acknowledge.

“Nah, just focusing on the game,” he muttered, immediately regretting how awkward he sounded. He could feel his face heating up.

“Uh-huh,” you drawled, clearly unconvinced. “You always look so... serious when you play.”

Matt shrugged, forcing his gaze back down at the game in front of him, but the problem was, he couldn’t focus. Not when you were so close, looking at him like you were trying to figure him out. He hated that feeling—that feeling of being under a microscope, like you could see right through him.

“I’m not serious,” he replied, his voice quieter than usual.

You tilted your head slightly, studying him, and a small smirk tugged at your lips. “Mmm, you sure? You seem kind of... intense tonight.”

You were doing that thing again—making him feel like he was in a game he didn’t know the rules for. The way you spoke to him was different from how you talked to everyone else. There was something almost dangerous in it, a challenge that Matt wasn’t sure he was ready to accept.

But despite the way his stomach fluttered nervously, he didn’t back down. “Not intense,” he said with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Just... trying to win.”

“Is that so?” You leaned in a little closer, dropping your voice to a teasing whisper. “Well, you should know—I’m the one who always wins.”

And just like that, the tension shot through the room like an electric current. Matt’s heart was racing, but he didn’t want to show it. He knew you were just playing with him, messing around as you always did with everyone, but there was something about the way you said it—something that made Matt’s breath hitch in his throat.

“Yeah?” He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping an octave. “What if I told you I wasn’t afraid of losing?”

Your eyes sparkled with mischief, and for a moment, the whole room seemed to fade away. It was just the two of you now, locked in this little battle, your words dancing around each other like a slow-burning fire.

“You sure about that?” you whispered, barely an inch away now. The scent of your perfume—sweet but spicy—was making Matt’s head spin. “Because I don’t lose, Matt. And I’m not sure you’re ready to play my game.”

Oh, God.

Matt felt his heart rate spike, but he refused to look away, even though everything inside him screamed to look down, to break the intensity that was building between the two of you.

He was already in deep, though. You had him, and you knew it. But for once, he wasn’t pulling back.

“I’m not sure you know how to play a fair game,” he muttered, unable to hide the smile creeping on his lips.

You raised an eyebrow, your lips curving upward into that infuriatingly perfect smirk of yours. “I don’t play fair. Haven’t you figured that out by now?”

The words were a challenge, a dare. And as much as Matt wanted to hold his ground, he couldn’t help but be drawn in by your confidence, by that ever-present allure that seemed to surround you.

He glanced over at Chris and Nick, who were blissfully oblivious to the silent war happening between you and him. The world seemed to have narrowed down to just the two of you. The air was thick, like you were both holding your breath, waiting for someone to make the next move.

It was a moment that lasted forever.

“Maybe that’s why I like you,” Matt said suddenly, the words slipping out before he could stop them.

You blinked, caught off guard, your smirk faltering just a little. “You like me?” You said the words slowly, as though testing them on your tongue.

“Yeah,” Matt replied, his voice quieter now, almost shy in contrast to his usual cocky demeanor. “I like the game you play. Even if I’m not sure I know how to win.”

The moment hung between you, thick with unspoken feelings. You stared at him for a long time, and Matt thought maybe he’d messed it all up. Maybe he’d pushed you too far. But then, slowly, your expression softened.

“You’re cute, Sturniolo,” you murmured, voice surprisingly tender. “You know that?”

Matt felt his breath catch in his throat. Was this... was this happening?

He cleared his throat, trying to mask the sudden rush of emotions flooding through him. “So, what now? Do I just keep playing and hope I’m not losing?”

You leaned closer again, so close he could feel the warmth of your breath against his skin. His heart pounded, his hands twitching at his sides, desperate to do something—anything—to break the tension. But you held his gaze, not backing down.

“No,” you said softly, just before your lips brushed against his ear. “Now, you stop pretending like you don’t care... and admit that you’re already in way deeper than you ever thought.”

Matt’s breath hitched as your words settled into him, every nerve ending buzzing with the realization that this wasn’t just some playful back-and-forth. This was real. And for the first time in a long while, he didn’t want to run from it.

“You’re playing with fire,” Matt whispered, a small smile tugging at his lips.

You looked at him with that same, daring spark in your eye. “I know,” you said, grinning. “And I think you like it.”

And for the first time, Matt didn’t bother denying it.

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

a/n: woah why is fluff lowkey so fun to write? hope you guys enjoyyyyy

[diivineray]

Btw; just to clear this up I love the people who communicate and talk to me without me always having to do it first. And are patient with me being slow as heckie cuz life has been hard and busy

When I complain about the rpc im talking about engagement. Cuz it’s hard as helllllllll to see who’s interested in what when no one really ??? Like ?? Does anything 😩 and I know it’s harder cuz I do have muses most ppl don’t know from fandoms that hardly have any kind of rpc yet or ever

But I’m flexible and I can make work. I just need ppl who are willing to step out of their own comfort zones. And actually do it. I don’t want ppl suddenly likely my posts or asking to interact if they know they aren’t going to. Just for the sake of the moment cuz that’s always what happens and then the cycle begins again. It’s annoying

I’m not fast and it won’t happen right away. It’s never that that annoys me. It’s just all the pretend interest when there isn’t any in fact. Over 100 ppl follow me and I maybe get three at most who are genuinely interested in me and my muses. You see how that looks?

[mars-ipan]

experiencing any level of joint pain for longer than a day or two has only reinforced my belief that ppl with chronic pain are actually the strongest motherfuckers on the goddamn planet

[madigoround]

I just watched a quiet place day one for the first time thinking it would just be like a thriller/suspense and no one told me how steeped this movie is in guttural emotion. I’m over here crying over this monster movie and the display of true human emotion and tragedy and love it shows as if I haven’t seen a million apocalypse movies

[snarltoothed]

this would be so funny to send as a middle-aged wife whenever your good for nothing husband who fell either into addiction or abusiveness when he got laid off in 2008 starts acting up but you’re 55 looking 45 and he’s ambiguously in his 60s and unlike him you didn’t age out of your sense of humor and ability to socialize so he just has to humble himself and shut up

image found while on google images ©

[screampied]

‘ BIG OLE FREAK !! ★

𝜗℘ feat. toji, gojo, nanami, geto, choso, sukuna. whipped jujutsu kaisen men who can’t last a second without you or your puśsy.

cw. fem! reader, unprotected, overstim, pussydrunk men, dumbification, ōral (f! receiving) messy eating, car sēx (geto), slight dom choso, manhandling, boob fondling, size kinks, brēeding, phone sēx (toji), fıngering, premature ejac, impact play, dirty talk, praise.

an. thank you megan thee stallion

☆ GOJO: “HE THROW A FIT WHEN I LEAVE HIM.”

“but babyyy,” satoru pouts, pink rumpled lips curling up into a frown once you start to moderater slow your hips down. “hmph. missed you all day today,” and you moan, feeling his hot breath aerate into the inner junction of your neck. he’s so touchy, he’s got two open hands pasted to your active torso as you’re being fucked dumb. as you’re bouncing on his cock, that same canorous drawn out moan that rips from your throat never fails to sound like a harmony. “fuck, don’t go. don’t leave yet. ‘m not done with my pretty girls.”

and as he babbles his pleads for you to stay a bit longer, his hands creep toward your neglected breasts. his ‘girls’ being you and your tits. so rounded and plump. your nipples were all perky and aroused. he just had to skim a fat thumb near your sensitive nubs. as you’re leisurely riding him in reverse, you let off another moan once his reddened tip thrashes repeatedly against your achy clit. “toru, ngh. you do this everytime,” and with each bounce, your brain starts to short circuit. he’s stretching you open so much that your mouth sags open. “fuck, you’re such a brat.”

“your brat, baby,” he coos, correcting you in a sweet voice against your ear. his tone was forevermore cheeky. despite how you were ferociously riding him stupid, he still had a bit of playfulness left in him. vigorously, sharp swats of loose skin smack against each other in desperate hits and you’re feeling yourself start to froth from such elated pleasure. satoru’s broad hands remain cupped on your tits before he squeezes them, licking a wet long stripe near your neck. “but god, you’re so fuckin’ hot. gonna cum jus’ from your voice, angel.”

panting, your hips swivel in a circular rotation before you roll your eyes—hovering the weight of your knees over and into his bulky thighs. “you’d cum jus’ from me breathing, satoru.”

“you know me so well, heh,” the white-haired male sucks against your tender collarbone. so sweet, but even though he’s trying to tease you he’s already about to cum. satoru presses his thumbs into your sides before groaning gruffly. “fuck, i’m not gonna last baby. s- serious.”

“you never last, ‘toru,” you mewl out sweetly, matching the intervals of his pants.

his towering cock pokes and prods in all the right spots of your cunt repeatedly. sloppy strings of slick stick and glue against his cock and your bare ass as if it was some sort of adhesive substance. you grind your hips quicker into him, watching as he leans his head into your chest. with a gasp leaving out of your pursed lips, satoru then grabs ahold of one of your breasts, merrily popping it into his mouth. “ngh, satoru.” you whine, feeling your tender nipple get fondled by his warm damp tongue. within seconds—his licks turn into sucks and his eyes close, savoring the tasteless taste of your breast in his mouth.

with the way you’re frantically bouncing on his lap, you’re barely even steady anymore and he has to hold your tit in place so it can stay in his mouth without slipping out. satoru doesn’t mind though, as long as he gets a good taste.

your knees continue to dig into his thighs as he’s sucking on each of your tits — you whimper, watching as his pretty snowy white lashes flutter close. he’s got the most pussy-drunken grin curving against his face, faint dimples making an appearance near the crevices of his lips. he’s so pretty, you can’t help but wrap an arm around him, holding him close. “s- so good,” he whines, briefly removing his mouth from your plump mounds. with low half-lidded eyes, you watch as strands of thin spit depart away from his lips. he’s so messy, and yet he doesn’t care. satoru catches you staring before he licks near your chin real slow and seductive like. “i know ‘m pretty baby but i didn’t say you could s- stop riding m— fuck.”

he gets crudely cut off by you wrapping a hand around his slim throat, quickening your bouncy hips. satoru moans out a slutty moan and his abs as if on cue, clench and tighten. everything’s so good, he feels like he’s about to break with the way you ride him. he’s in love.

“h- hey, that’s kinda kinky,” he sheepishly says, his cock still thrusting in and out of you. satoru’s just laid back, allowing you to do all the work with your unpredictable hips. you looked so good like this though—straddling on top of him, gradually choking him. he had literal heart eyes in his pupils and your actions only made him ten times more whipped. “shit.”

but you let off a moan once he reached a certain spot after a while. it’s abrupt, and you turn dimwitted almost immediately. satoru ends up getting much closer before you though, because you can tell purely from his body language. with the way your ass circles and throws itself around his pelvis, he’s already done for. that recoil of yours could make anyone hungry for more. “fuck, ‘toruuuu,” you hiss his name, the crude skin slapping of both frail limbs making you bite the inside of your cheek. he’s holding both of your hips before with the rough clashing of rutting bodies, he whines. satoru doesn’t realize he’s cumming until you actually start to feel it pour into you.

it shoots quick into your womb, velvety ropes that make you bite your lip. it’s so so much that you feel hot spurts of it dribble down between your inner thighs. satoru’s panting heavily against your ear, ivory brows curling up together and he’s always got such the prettiest orgasm face.

his mouth remains open and a bit of drool seeps out the cracking corners. you kiss near his swollen lips as he’s dumping yet another load into you. “ughhh,” he shivers, two big hands squeezing your ass for comfort. satoru feels a slimy wad of his cum trickle past your folds and coat onto his base and he stares at it, then at you. he’s got the most feral look in his eyes before he lets off a bashful whimper. “h- have my kids, please.”

☆ TOJI — “AIN’T NOBODY FREAK LIKE ME.”

“c’mon, babygirl. put ‘er on the phone. let me listen,” toji purrs, his voice on the other end of the line raspy yet staticky.

as you sit up on the comforter with your legs prettily sprawled out, you were heavily panting. you missed him, you missed him bad. toji, like usual had work. he never exactly told you what he does for a living nor did you really care to ask. but he’d be away for hours and you couldn’t help but text or call him about your little ‘situation’ whenever you tried to touch yourself. you try to touch yourself in the way that he does but it never works. no one’s fingers could compare to his.

“o- okay,” you swallow, using a thumb to press down against the white speaker button on your phone. pulling the speaker part of the phone down towards your sopping cunt, you grow quiet, letting him get a good listen. right away, you heard the sounds of toji’s heavy breaths. he grows quiet for a good twenty seconds and you’re growing impatient. “toji? are you still th-”

“ah ah. shut the fuck up, baby. ‘m tryna hear my girl,” and you pout, dragging your middle finger down your dribbling pussy. you were a bit overly sensitive, considering. just a few minutes ago, you ended up finishing with the help of your vibrator. his voice was so stern yet you listened anyway. toji feels a strain forming inside the heavy wranglers he wore. you’re so wet, he wishes he was there just as much as you did. toji holds the phone up to his ear before grunting. “spank her for me. tell her i’ll be there real soon.”

you let off another soft moan, bringing a gentle spank towards your weeping cunt. toji hears it all, the sharp contact of your palm that thwacks against your folds goes echoes right through the phone’s speakers. your teeth dig into your bottom lip at the brief pang of pleasure that shortly follows. “toji, please. need you, can’t do this by myself.”

“aw, that’s what you get f’r not waitin’ for me to get home anyway, little girl,” a husky voice replies. you heard the groan trying to wretch from his throat as he spoke. toji was most definitely hard, but you knew more than anything, he hated whenever you touched yourself. especially whenever he wasn’t around, he thinks it’s amusing. “sound so fuckin’ wet though. jus’ pretend y’er fingers are mine, baby.”

slumping back in frustration—you sigh, hearing a gruff cackle follow seconds later. “but i can’t, ‘s not the same, toji. you do it better.”

“damn right, babygirl,” toji snickers, and his voice pitched so deep in a way that you felt yourself throbbing. the creeping timbre that rides his tone makes your toes curl up. you need him bad, it seemed like it’s been years since he’d left but it’s only been just a few hours. by now, two fingers of yours were crumped up in your drooling cunt. you make an attempt at trying to copy how toji usually does it - swirling two fingers around the inside it reaches that spongey texture. you whimper on the phone, invading your gummy walls with twin whirling digits before your pants grow louder against the speaker. “so cute. tryin’ so hard, huh. wish toji was here to spank that pussy right, hm?”

“y- yes,” you chew on your words, chafing trembly pathetic fingers near your needy cunt. you didn’t care how dumb you sounded - you wanted toji to come home. you hadn’t even realized you were now flipped over, grinding against your pillow. technically, his pillow — you were laid on his side of the bed for a reason. in hot sharp breaths, you hold the phone up to your mouth, letting off another elongated moan. toji huffs at your sweet sounds, having to turn his volume down multiple notches due to you being so loud. “toji please, come home. ‘m gonna cum without you again.”

a sly smirk compresses against his lips before he grouses through the phone. “hm. fine, hang up ‘n gimme a sec, baby.”

you didn’t know what kind of trick he had up his sleeve but you hang up. you’re panting so much, it’s almost as if you some kind of dog in hear. your fingers that remain helplessly buried in your cunt felt like they were starting to grow numb. once your thumb presses against the button to end the call, the room suddenly goes quiet.

but abruptly, the front door opens and it’s toji.

you furrow your eyebrows, confused on how he got here so quick but right as you were about to greet him with a hug, he pokes your forehead. “not so fast, baby. y’er in trouble,” and you gasp once he goes toward you, picking you up and tossing you to lie on your chest. with a rude spank, he smacks your ass. “gonna have ‘ta discipline this sloppy pussy all over again. now now, you know the drill. ass up, face fuckin’ down.”

☆ SUKUNA — “NEED YOU TO SPIT MAKE THAT MOTHERF*CKER GLISTEN.”

“tch. can’t hear or are ya jus’ plain stupid, brat? spread ‘em,” sukuna snarls, hovering right over your body.

his dark heightened stare made you gulp - just menacingly looking at you as if you was prey. his prey. crimson red eyes bore into your pretty physique as you left off a shaky breath, slowly spreading your legs apart from him. “good girl. glad ‘ta hear you can follow directions.”

a pout stretches against your lips but that soon switches once his tongue laps against your folds. you shudder, feeling the faint spiky texture of his forked tongue flick down your sobbing cunt in small strokes. from the slit, you’re drenched and he’s been craving a taste for a while. you’re laid back against the mattress whilst your toes involuntarily curl up. when it comes to sukuna, he’s never one to waste his precious time—especially whenever it came to pussy. you let off a whimper the moment he grabs ahold of your thighs, squeezing them in place. “sukuna, fuck.”

you’re met with a rude glower as he’s positioned right between your thighs. he’s moving his head side to side as he creates a long sloppy slurp.

you feel the snapping muscles in your tummy tense as his plump lips then munch against your sensitive clit.

“fuckin’ slut. walkin’ around with a cunt this soaked,” he grumbles in a muffled tone—savoring your sweet taste entirely. your stomach curls up as he’s feasting between your thighs, button tip of his nose occasionally swiping against your slobbering slit. the edges of sukuna’s serrated nails scrap down your skin gently, leaving a few noticeable marks. if it was anything the demon loved to do—it was to mark you, claim you as his. with red eyes meeting yours once more, he growls right against your pussy. “and don’t think about hidin’ those pretty moans from me this time. i wanna hear screams this time, brat.”

“f- fuck,” you whine. using a hand to grab onto the crown of his head, you comb a few fingers through his pink tresses—already feeling the weak pangs of pleasure surge through your thighs. by any second, you just knew your weak legs were gonna collapse. sukuna’s tongue was stupid, swirling everywhere inside of your pussy before his jaw starts to lock right away. “mmm, ‘kuna, spit on it.”

your cunt gets hit with an abrupt smack and you gasp, moaning from the abrupt twinge of throbs before you glance down at him.

“woman don’t tell me how to eat pussy,” he eyes you, voice full of curt. as he’s glaring at you the entire time—sukuna delves two fingers inside your sopping entrance though, scissoring his folds in your core just to watch you squirm. albeit, he does in fact spit on your pussy. it’s a stringy glossy wad, and the way it trails from his pink lips makes you convulse even quicker. sukuna’s eyes remain on you the entire time before he pulls his fingers out, slurping the new lustrous mess clean. “was gonna do that anyway, little girl.”

you almost giggle from his irritation before he playfully bites your clit — you whine, yanking his unkempt strands forward and he groans. “easy on the fuckin’ hair,” he murmurs, and as he pulls his head up a bit for air, you glance at the slick sheet of your own juices streaming down his chin. so pretty, it’s got its own kind of shine. to think that’s coming all from you, you were drenched.

“sorry,” you timidly utter, slumping back against the plump pillows. sukuna rolls his eyes at you in response, creating tender kisses against your soddened folds. with the way your thighs were trembling, it was adorable. you couldn’t stay still to save your life. he was sucking everything out of you, vacuuming all of your juices with just his mouth. the slurps were so lewd and loud that it bounced off the walls. “ohmygoddd.” you squeal, growing more whiny the harder his sucks become. sukuna’s pace of his tongue never falters and every few seconds, he spits against your pussy just to lap it right back up again.

the demon groans, staring at his mess he made. his own saliva pours down your slit and its pretty.

he drags a middle finger down, dipping it inside of your wet folds. the noises you made too were just carnal. sloshes of crying squelches reverberate through his royal chambers and he snickers. how pathetic, getting this soaked for someone like him. sukuna doesn’t care that his jaw tightens and locks. he groans, slowly trailing his tongue everywhere. he even guides it toward your puckering hole that’s drooling with slick too.

“can’t forget about her,” he groans, feeling himself get hard. sukuna most definitely had a boner, he had one every time he went down on you. “fuckin’ sloppy girl. ‘s exactly what you are,” and he moves his tongue back up toward your cunt before starting to tongue fuck you. you moan, still having a hand attached to his hair like it was velcro. “my sloppy girl though. ain’t that right?”

and before you were about to speak again, he spanks your cunt raw, spurts of your wetness slicking another glossy sheet onto his palm. sukuna’s eyes are at your pussy, barely even acknowledging your presence anymore. “keh. thought so. good girl.”

☆ NANAMI — “MY BODY ADDICTIVE IT’S DRIVIN’ HIM CRAZY.”

gentle fawn eyes ogle at you up and down as you’re prettily sprawled out on the bed. nanami can’t help but press a soft kiss onto your forehead as he’s slowly inserting himself inside.

“so perfect,” he murmurs, showering your skin with even more kisses. his lips were tender. you feel the prodding tip of his cock gradually disappear inside of your cunt before you exhale deeply. “mhm, always clamp around me so good. that’s it just relax. eyes on me, gorgeous.”

you look up at him and nanami’s face softens. teasingly, he tilts his head as he sees you biting your lip—making a cute attempt at trying to suppress any incoming moans. “hi, my love,” a gruffly sweet tone utters to you, softly gripping your chin. “there’s those pretty eyes i fell in love with.”

“k- kento,” you whimper, your back involuntarily starting to arch the further he pushes his dick inside. nanami groans, feeling himself being in brief shock by just how warm you were from the inside. whine after whine robs out of your throat before he’s trying to get you adjusted—he’s already starting to feel your slick treacle juices slabber down his lengthy base. it’s a squelching ‘pop’ once he’s finally in and his slender long fingers intertwine with yours. “fuck, kento.”

nanami shakes his head from each swear that comes from your lips. it’s cute. blond brows curl up together before he gently lifts up your leg, making it sling up over his tense right shoulder.

“my my, you’ve got quite the filthy mouth, honey,” and his words were as smooth as silk. as he’s making sure not to be too rough, his body continues to rut into you, respectfully pounding you into the creamy cottony sheets. a thumb of his curls against your bottom lip before he deepens his angle just a tad bit. “m- my love, oh,” and for a split second, nanami’s voice cracks. your cunt’s so good and drenched that he for one was practically speechless. nanami squeezes his eyes shut for a moment. he huffs out individual heavy pants from his full lungs before his hands roam all over your body. you were perfect, his fingers were hot and burning with parched heat - the same kind of heat that radiates against your skin. he’s hovering over your body, tenderly grinding his sharpened hips into you whilst his mushroom tip repeats to thrash against your throbbing clit.

nanami was always respectful when he fucks. missionary was forever his favorite because of the loving eye contact.

he’s stuffing you full of inches while staring right in your eyes, serenading you with a song of all the right compliments. you’d always throb, feeling that same mixture of glutinous slick trickle its way down your thighs. “kento don’t stop, please,” your arms throw around him, using a thumb to strum down his fading undercut. it’s soft, bristles of hair glide against your digit before the screeching squelches of your pussy abruptly snap you back to reality. as the bed wails and dips from the constant jerks and jarring movement - you start to grow dumb. his cock stretches right through you, curling its way into your walls while making its very mark. with the way your mouth was hanging open, he can’t help but silence your sweet forbidden moans with a kiss. “mmph.”

moans, now muffled get poured into his lips as his body continues to shift against you. he’s so warm that it’s almost a burning hot. nanami’s hands gingerly run down your skin, touching you everywhere just so he can feel you shiver from his contact. “i know, i know,” he whispers between sultry kisses, briefly sucking against your bottom lip. his balls were always swollen whenever it came to you. you whine, feeling a few strands of his hair tickle against your forehead—he’s so close. minty breath gets caught by your nostrils as your legs wrap themselves around his waist. “that’s it. jus’ let me love you, let your husband remind you how perfect you are, good girl.”

his words create a school of fluttering butterflies in your tummy. nanami can’t keep his hands off you, literally. he touches everywhere, nipping a few kisses at your skin as he’s whispering sweet nothings into your ear. he’s purring against your nude flesh as you try to match his crazed pace. “kento, ‘m gonna cum. gonna cum, fuckk,” you suddenly babble out, shaking directly underneath him. you were so cute—his eyes soften as you’re stammering about your incoming release. plump soft lips press against your forehead as he’s still sweetly driving his hips into your walls. “please.”

by this point, both lips were departed from each other and he’s got two buff arms resting on opposite sides of your body. the smell of the air in the room was almost too strong. a mixturing scent of sweat and devoted bodies moving together in harmony. he groans into your neck, pressing a few more kisses at your skin. “c’mon, you can make a mess on me,” and he cups your face, witnessing right before his eyes as you’re about to approach your calamitous rapture. it’s like a wave but it’s crashing at full speed. you whine, collected breaths starting to pick up as the crown of his cock steadily thrashes around the shallow depths insides of your swollen cunt. nanami can feel your throbbing intensify and he starts to grow just a bit more relentless with his tempo. “make a mess, yeah. ‘s okay, your husband’s gonna clean you right up like always.”

nanami’s words were so sweet — he’s talking you through it whilst he’s got his hands cupping your face. strangled moans die from your throat before one tap of his cock against that spot was the final straw. your pussy constricts around his thickset base before you whimper. “f- fuuuuck,” a long moan leaves out of you as the build up pressure finally releases. his body lies flat against you as he’s gradually slowing down, whispering all sorts of praises against your ear in a shaky voice as you’re finally coming undone on his weighty shaft. your eyes widen before you bite into his neck, muffling your loud moans as you cream all the way down to his hilting base.

you’re speechless—and with your breath literally being taken away from you, your arms remain fragile, thrown over nanami’s shoulders. again, you’re met with the most kindest fawn eyes and he sheepishly smiles at you, sweat beads racing down the sides of his forehead. “such a good girl. even as a mess you’re still so p- perfect— fuck,”and he chokes up on his sentence, his voice suddenly turning raspy. your cunt grips him tight, never wanting to let go and he grits his teeth at the feeling. mousy dilated pupils flicker back until a flashing color of white could only be seen from his sockets. it was sexy, nanami loses himself for a moment before he slumps into your chest, hiccuping at how he came and sounded so so lewd—so pussy drunken all of a sudden. “oh, forgive me for my foul language m- my love. you really—made a mess out of me too it seems.”

☆ GETO — “THESE WINDOWS TINTED SO NOBODY SAW.”

“that’s my good girl,” geto leans back against the leather driver seat, occasionally using a palm to swat against your ass.

he’s smacking the right cheek specifically, featuring skin against skin sticking amongst each other from the perspiring sweat. he groans at the springy recoil your ass gives him every time before he gives your rear a squeeze. “fuckin’ ride it, yeah. slut this sloppy pussy all over me, sweetheart.”

“s- suguru,” you whine staring deep into his eyes. he’s so pretty, lazily slouched and reclined back with the most smuggest grin on his lips. the only sounds that could be heard in the parked vehicle was the sounds you, your sloppy cunt, and the loud bangs of raindrops that hit against his tinted windows. you continue to grind your hips into him before he spanks your ass again and again. “fuck, ‘s big. you’re always so fuckin’ big.”

“someone complaining?” he raises a brow, although you know he’s just teasing. like always, he’s watching as you struggle to keep up your pace. his fat cock was perfectly tugged into your walls and you felt like at any given moment, he’d split your pretty pussy open. “hm?” he opens his mouth tauntingly, the car’s entire build starting to jerk and judder from the powerful movements. a hand of his cups your chin before he rubs a thumb over your spit-glossed lips. “yeah, no back talk now huh, princess. less talkin’ more riding, uh huh.”

you wanted to roll your eyes but you couldn’t. he’s staring at you and eating up all of your dramatic facial expressions. the way your brows knead together and your lips part — that sweet sweet ‘o’ that forms from your mouth prying open, blissful whines tearing from your windpipe. he’s so thick, it’s almost unfair. the car continues to shake as your bouncing against his dick progresses at a more hurried speed. “s- shut up suguru.”

“ooh,” he hums, teasingly starting to bounce his thigh. even more friction, and both rows of your teeth clench together before you let off a sweet battle-crying moan. right there, his tip starts to smack and kiss up against a stretchy part that’s dug directly into your walls. you feel it and multiple hairs stand up near the nape of your neck. geto watches as your eyelids become droopy and you’re already so dick-drunk. it’s adorable, weak arms of yours toss themselves over his broad built shoulders and you feel a sudden quiver shockwave inside your thighs. “yeah, fuck me girl. don’t slow down. give it t’ me. shut me up with your pussy, how ‘bout that, huh.”

you give him a glare but geto only snickers, bringing another open palm toward your left ass cheek to spank it. you moan, your angered scrunched up muscles in your face relaxing before you whimper. “fuck, fuck,” and his turgid balls resume to pummel all through your gripping walls. there’s a candied taste in your mouth, the quicker you ride him—the more you taste it. it’s salty, bittersweet until your throat starts to leisurely grow dry. geto groans, sliding his foot away from the brake before he grabs ahold of your hips once more. “suguru, ‘m gettin’ close, fuck.”

“yeah, yeah,” he huffs, dark eyes glancing toward your chest — he observes the way your tits bounce, matching your rhythm by slamming you further down on his cock. it’s so cute, you were an entire mess. whilst you’re losing yourself on his dick, he pulls you close into him. “easy. baby. slow down a bit for me. ‘s not a rush, mhm,” and as his husky voice purrs into your ear, your cunt throbs. he even flicks his tongue against the shell of your ear just to hear you whimper louder. his cologne was loud, invading the entire space of the car. it was a mixture of burning leather and geto’s rich manly scent. it was no denying, he smelled so good that it was just intoxicating. obediently, you start to slow your hips crazed tempi to his liking and he sexily throws his head back - adam’s apple bobbing in response. “fuck, yeah. right there, jus’ like that. i gotcha. nice ‘n slow, good fuckin’ girl.”

the sounds of your sopping pussy only get louder before his teeth tenderly bite into your neck. you moan, feeling a balmy chill ghost near the hairs that run down your collarbone. he’s letting you fuck yourself stupid and it’s almost like you were floating. whining, you reach between your legs to feel your convulsing cunt. you’re close, so close.

“s- sugu,” you whimper, feeling that familiar sensation of heat swimming its way toward the lower pits of your stomach. “fuck, fuck.”

“cum with me baby,” he coos to you, guiding your hips with two big hands. your ears felt like they were constantly popping the more you rode him. he’s groaning from your sloppy rhythm and how good your ass thwacks and thwacks. against him. but just as he whispered those words—geto squints his eyes at his rear view mirror. with a hand still attached to your hips, he spots a luminescent light mixture of blue and red. he grows sheepish, realizing he probably shouldn’t have pulled over at this particular spot. .

as you’re still riding him, he grunts as he spots the officer steeping out. slouching back against the driver seat and running a hand through his darkened sable locks, he sighs.

“well shit.”

☆ CHOSO — “I GOT ‘EM ADDICTED HE FIENDIN’.”

“princess, y’know i don’t like when you run from me,” choso groans, reeling your hips back into him.

you gasp, hearing the slight rasp in his tone. his thick cock plummets through your walls and without the support of his hands, you’d have well collapse on the mattress. your limbs were already weak and flimsy enough as it was. he’s been fucking you for hours, nonstop. choso couldn’t get enough. “c’mere, don’t run from me.”

a tiny whine pours from your lips as you feel a few fingers of his curl around your neck. your back naturally arches and you bite your lip. “fuck, ‘cho,” you huff, the sharp smacks of your hips roughly hitting against his pelvis making him hiss. his favorite part. dark irises glance down toward your ass before he spanks you. one spank turns into one, then two, then three. the bed cries from the combining pounds of weight as he’s drilling into you, having the stamina equivalent to a stallion. “ohmygod, choso. right there baby, ngh.”

your lewd little moans alone were enough to get him off. arched thin brows tug together as he drags you back closer into him. he’s still got a hand wrapped around your throat before he pushes his hips further into you at full throttle.

“mhm, good girl. take it, fuckin’ take it,” and you can hear the hoarse in his tone pitching his delivery. your cunt’s weak ily squelching and squealing out all kinds of noises. you were soaked. choso’s droopy eyes continue to stare down your ass, spotting a few sweat droplets race down your spine. “so pretty. all mine, pussy’s all mine,” he grunts through gritted teeth, and your ass gets met with another smack. “c’mon, baby. gotta meet me halfway though. arch better, yeah?”

“s- sorry,” you sheepishly murmur, feeling another incoming moan try to choke its way out of your throat. he’s hitting you so deep, choso’s ravaging your walls and massaging them thoroughly. every part, every corner, every crevice. through and through—you straighten your arch before feeling his hips grind slower into you. with his pace, it’s almost hypnotic. “shit,” you whimper, trying to match his sudden changed rhythm. he’s fucking you slow but deep, tongue already starting to loll out. “choso, ‘m gonna cum.”

you hear a scoff before he leans further in, planting a wet kiss near your back. “nuh uh. not yet,” and with a piston of his hips, he lightly pushes your head into the silky sheets with a hand. “fuck, soakin’ me so good, princess. nasty girl,” he breathes, hearing your gurgled moans escape from your lips. your pussy was almost louder than you — a plethora of sloppy sounds sing out of your folds and he purposely grows quiet just to hear it. “heh, love when she does that. always got so much to say.”

“c- choso,” you squeak, shimmying your hips back into him. the dark-haired male can’t help but press two thumbs into your hips, feeling against the entire curvature - so pretty. you had his entire cock drenched with your gooey slick and he only wanted more. you’re pawing desperately at the satiny sheets to hang on as he’s continuing to jut his fat cock further into you. “ngh, cumming!”

choso holds your hips steadily in place—but he groans, feeling his swollen balls approach its peak at the same exact time. thick fingers of his pierce into your skin before abruptly, a geyser ripples right out your folds. you’re creaming all down his cock, gasping before he shortly follows. it’s runny, pumps and pumps of sweltering hot cum dribbles into your sobbing cunt. choso’s hair was shaggy, few black tresses of strands stick against his skin with the help of clingy sweat before he growls. “fuck . . me,” and his chiseled abs clench with his head throwing itself back. yet as he’s stuffing you full of load, his hips start up again and you let off a moan. “baby, can’t let it go to waste. keep up, need it. need you.”

you let off a moan, ruthlessly being pounded into the fat cushions of the mattress before unexpectedly—you hear a ear splitting crack. choso ignores it, still driving his hips deeply into your core before that’s right when the headboard falls with a blaring shatter. your eyes widen as you flinch at the now broken furniture—feeling the weight of the bed collapse inward. the bed breaks but chcoso’s entirely unfazed. “c- choso, the bed b- broke.”

“so?”

“s- so?” you moan, his blushing tip repeatedly kissing up against your swollen sweetest spots. “the bed’s broken—”

“baby, ‘s okay,” a low voice murmurs, watching with blown pupils as your slick coats an entire translucent colored ring around his hefty base. choso groans, licking his lips before slowly pulling out, only to plug his weeping spilling cum right back into your cunt.

“don’t worry about the bed. gonna break your pussy next, anyway, heh.”