#he always wears armani

[datshitrandom]

Darren Criss at the Maybe Happy Ending Broadway Gala Celebration | November 11, 2024 | 📸 by John Lamparski

Custom Francis Libiran Barong Schutz Dellia Bootie*

[youryanderedaddy]

Summary: You run into your snobby ex boyfriend after a drunken party. Things go south from there. tw: female reader, hinted murder, possessive behavior, condescension, financial(?) abuse, classism

You know this is a stupid, stupid idea. Going home at God knows what time in the pitch black is never a good idea, you think drowsily, head still spinning from the last beer, but even more so when you're tired, pissed off and tipsy. You're freezing, naked shoulders wet from the chilly midnight rain - but instead of soft damp linden, you smell molden concrete and metal. You fucking hate this city. You hate the stupid, flashy, obnoxious parties for rich people, and this shitty university in the middle of nowhere, and even the scholarship that forced you into close proximity with the freakish upper class of east New Hemptison.

"Baby!" A familiar voice sinks into the muddy darkness and you have to physically restrain yourself from emptying your stomach right there on the street - and knowing your neighbours, you'd have to clean it after too. His steps fasten and soon you feel his hand gripping your shoulder to turn you around. Standing before you, glistening just like some prince from a fairy tale, is everything you despise about this town. The fact that he's perfectly prim and proper despite the pounding rain, that his teeth seem almost pearly white in the dark, that his hair is crisp and slicked away tastefully, that even now he's wearing a fucking Armani shirt with the cheesiest pair of jeans (ones you could never afford) - it makes you want to crawl back to the cave you came from, two continents away, and never look back.

"Baby, where have you been?" He sounds terribly concerned as he pulls your shivering body in for a tight bear hug, running his hands through your absolutely soaked hair - murmuring something incomprehensible to your drunken mind. "I was worried sick, missy." His voice drops slightly, but it's all for show. He's playing the part of the good boyfriend, like always - and you fell for it once, you did, but you know better now. "I called you, like, sixty eight times. And nothing." He swallows, big hands trembling around you. "Just radio silence. I thought something bad happened to y-"

"Oh, f-uucking beat it." Your patience finally snaps and you push him off swiftly, barely contained anger starting to resurface again. Today was supposed to be about you, about healing, about feeling better, but just your luck - the very problem had found you, just like always. No matter where you go, your troubles follow. "You know what you did, asshole. Don't you d-aare play innocent with m-me." You hiss drunkenly, stumbling all over your words before hitting the wall all on your own. Mathew, of course, doesn't waste the oppurtunity to get closer to you - just so he can help you regain your balance, of course. The golden boy of Saint Hemptison would never take advantage of an intoxicated girl - much less his ex girlfriend who he's still hopelessly in love with, supposedly. Right.

"Baby, please, you're drunk - you're not making any sense." The man whispers softly, placing his hand at your hip. "Let's go to the penthouse. We can talk about this in the morning when you are more aware of your thoughts."

When you're more aware of your thoughts? You almost laugh. It's quite bittersweet when it hits you that he doesn't respect you even now - maybe he never has in the duration of your miserable relationshop, that in his eyes you'll always be the poor girl in need of a white knight. Just a little trophy to show off, if a bit broken in certain spots.

"I am not going anywhere with you." You mumble, trying to calm down - to appear cold and collected, the complete opposite of what he wants you to be. "Look, I know that you're mad at me, babygirl, but I'm sure your little temper tantrum can wait until tomorrow. You know I don't like this neighbourhood. Let me take you to a safe place for the night, okay?" He reaches for your hand again, but this time you swat it away in fury.

"Who are you to act so worried about me, huh?" You can hear your voice breaking as the tears prick at your eyes - hot and shameful. Crying in front of him is the last thing you want to do, but god, it's so hard not to when this whole night has been a disaster after a disaster. You're truly at your wits' end. "After what you did? You are truly shameless." You squeal, and admittedly, it feels fucking great to finally say it.

Your former lover's face twists into an unrecognizable grimace as he watches you tear into his heart with ease - and as you turn to leave, he grabs your wrist painfully. This time something is different about his eyes - they're not longer smiling. Now they're two bottomless gray pits devoid of kindness, the same eyes you saw the night of the accident as he caressed your cold cheek with bloody knuckles.

"And what did I do, love? Hm?" He tilts your chin up by squeezing your throat, forcing you to meet his eerie gaze. Suddenly all your tipsy bravado evaporates into thin air. "Please, refresh my memory. I really can't recall the events of the past two weeks - since you've been avoiding me and all..." His fingers dig into your skin and you wince just like a kicked puppy - but he doesn't bulge an inch. Suddenly everything comes flooding back - the touches you convinced yourself were sensual, not possesive, the glances you once thought of as romantic, the constant interrogations, the strange emails, the cryptic calls, the dead roses at your door. "I couldn't sleep - or eat for that matter. I am half a man without you. I lose myself completely."

It all makes sense now. You feel like crying, because it's so crystal clear... and you've been a willing fool. You had closed your eyes, because it was easier to lie than to accept the truth bubbling just under his surface - under the dimples and the smiles, and the hundred jewelry boxes still lying unopened under your bed.

"You - you killed him! You monster!" You gasp, unable to stop your lips from uttering the lethal. You thrash around to no avail, you're stuck. "How could you? Jack was your friend!" You hide your face in the crook of his neck to stop the sobs, too scared to look at the crazed man holding you. He simply rolls his eyes, letting you soak his shirt with your pretty tears. "Don't be so dramatic - it's just some broken bones. He'll be fine... as long as he stays away from my things."

You raise your head shakily - you're drowning between hatred, fear and misery. The adrenaline is making you even more disoriented than the liquor percentage in your bloodstream.

"I am not a fucking thing for you to-" You hiccup, growing woozy as you hit weakly against his chest. The corners of his lips curl up slightly as he chuckles at the pitiful display. "For you to just own!" You keep going, cheeks purple from pent up fury - there's something tearing at your insides like you want to scream, you need it to come out, but you find yourself unable to push it off your flesh like it's been ingrained with glue and a shovel.

"You're wrong, baby. I do own you." Mathew says with the sweetest, softest voice you've heard in your life, sugary and bitter like poisonous honey. "Let's say you want to break up-"

"We already broke u-"

His eyes pierce you mid-sentence. You quickly close your mouth.

"Let's say," He repeats through gritted teeth, holding you so tightly you might just merge into one being. "That you want to break up with me." He inhales deeply, nostrils flaring. "Hypothetically. Then what? You have no place to live. I know you're staying at that shithole of a hotel down the street right now - it's filthier than a brothel, no?"

You want to say something - to argue, to scream. To tell him that he's being a rich, condescending asshole again, that you like the hotel - despite the mold and the cockroaches and the way there never seems to be hot water. Despite having to lock your door four times so you don't get assaulted in your sleep.

You say nothing.

"You don't have to confirm it. My agent tracked you down a week ago. Whatever - you'll run out of money in, approximately, 9 days." He smirks maliciously, with unhidden spite - just like a little devil. "Then what? You don't even have an address. And you know the city hall will take their sweet fucking time to help you register - if they don't make you pay a fine first." He strokes your chin cruelly. "We both know just how much they care about clueless little foreigners with less than a penny to their name." He whispers, twisting the dagger in. "Hell, they may even cut your scholarship. And. then. what." Your ex pronounces each word slowly - making sure you can understand it, feel it - fear it.

You imagine your family back at home. You can hear their voices over the phone, your mom smiling as you tell her about your day, your father asking you what you plan to do after college - whether you will still remember them, whether you'd take care of them once they have nothing left, since you took everything with you. The money, the hopes, the happiness...

"F-fuck you..." You whimper faintly, falling against him. You feel defeated, and the sharp words are all you have left. "Why are you doing this to me?" You mumble to yourself, suddenly feeling drained to the very bone. The man begins stroking your hair as he rocks you gently to the side. "Because I love you." He slowly kisses down your neck. "Because I'm the only one in this city who gives a fuck about you, and-" You can feel his smile against your burning cheek. "Because you're mine."

[monzabee]

mr. big (social media au) - cs55

masterlist ||

Summary: The one where there he was, wearing armani on a sunday, your boyfriend, Carlos.

Pairing: carlos sainz x romance writer!reader (model used: random people i found on pinterest)

Warnings: none other than some cursing? carlos being an old money dream as always

Request: "For a smau, would love to see romance writer!reader with Carlos (he is just Disney prince vibes) where fans aren’t quite sure how they got together but the influence him on her work is greatly appreciated" by my lovely @percervall

Author note: OKAY JUST REALISED I AM A CARRIE AND BIG APOLOGIST, WHO WOULD'VE THOUGHT (i might be freaking out about them, but i will always be a charlotte girl)!!! (might honestly turn it into a series because who doesn't love a satc x old money crossover???)

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms.

yourusername

Liked by carlossainz55, yourbestfriend, readersdigest and 438,927 others.

yourusername: busy, busy, busy bee.

user: thank you mother for feeding us with another hot billionaire novel

yourusername: you are more than welcome

user: how is she not only one of the best romance authors, but also a fashion icon??

user: can't wait to read what carlos inspired this time!!

carlossainz55: you are not wearing you glasses again, cariño

yourusername: why don't you come put them on yourself??

user: oh, they are so cute it's sickening

user: GIVE US THE MANUSCRIPT AND END OUR SUFFERING

view all 2,387 comments.

user: how did they get together again??

user: i think he ran into her at one of her book signings in madrid?

user: i thought it was when she went to the paddock for some good old r&d?

user: i heard somewhere that a friend set them up

yourusername posted a new story!

carlossainz55 posted a story!

yourusername

Liked by carlossainz55, landonorris, goodreads and 682,928 others.

yourusername: life lately & "between love and loathing" out june 23rd.

user: we love the romantic getaway, and a new book!!

user: we're being fed in more ways than one, and i am not complaining at all!!

user: oh shit, we're about to read the best romance novel of all time

view all 13,726 comments.

carlossainz55: i'm so proud of you, you have no idea

yourusername: way to make me cry

yourusername: i love you though

carlossainz55: te quiero más

user: I CAN'T BELIEVE THEY ARE THE OLD MONEY COUPLE WE NEEDED ALL ALONG AND WE DON'T KNOW HOW THEY STARTED DATING

user: it will remain forever a mystery

user: but at least we have content to keep us going through these hard times

carlossainz55

Liked by yourusername, scuderiaferrari, charles_leclerc and 977,520 others.

carlossainz55: one of us made the pancakes, and one of us stood there looking pretty.

yourusername: hey, it was your turn to make breakfast

carlossainz55: and i loved every second of it

yourusername: even doing the dishes?

carlossainz55: especially doing the dishes

user: this is by far the most romance book thing this man has done

user: i still don't understand how they started dating, but good for them i guess

view all 35,726 comments.

landonorris: hey, i didn't get any pancakes, did you? @charles_leclerc

charles_leclerc: didn't even know we were having pancakes, where are our pancakes @carlossainz55

landonorris: and cooking in a towel?? how is that sanitary??

charles_leclerc: he's breaking at least a dozen health codes

carlossainz55: i hate you both

yourusername: you are all a pr nightmare

scuderiaferrari: i agree

user: damn he got lucky

yourusername

Liked by f1wagss, carlossainz55, sarahjessicaparker and 736,928 others.

yourusername: and there he was, wearing armani on a sunday, carlos sainz.

user: SHUT UP!!! SHUT THE FUCK UP!!

user: what kind of an iconic cunt slay is this

user: and just like that... they became the coolest couple on the internet

user: NEW NOVEL IDEA, SEX AND THE CITY RETELL WITH CARLOS

user: girl wtf

yourusername: no let her cook

yourusername: you might be onto something here

user: don't know if i want to be her or be carlos

view all 44,736 comments.

user: everybody say thank you mom for blessing us

carlossainz55: amor

yourusername: amor x2

user: oh she's working overtime god bless you

[laaailuh]

"He got a whole fan club."🕸️🕷️

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Pairing: e!42 morales x black!reader

Warnings: light swearing

Summary: You attended Miles's basketball game and caught sight of some girls cheering for him to an extensive amount.

a/n: had to repost this due to some problems with the text

 you coming to my game?

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Im already here

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

I thought you had a lash appointment?

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

I can always get them done another time

 ㅤplus I wanna see you play baby

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

you get to watch me dunk on these broke ass niggas then💯💪🏿

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

ok pal!

Miles💕 disliked your message

“Number 16 is so good, like he really going all out f’me” Armani said, biting the tip of her index finger.

You scrunched your face, “Bitch you’re so delusional, he don't even know you.”

“Then explain why he always lookin’ back at me when he makes a shot?”

“You know the scoreboard is above us right? he just looking at the points girl.”

She kissed her teeth, “Just cause you got a nigga, don't mean you can ruin my fantasy bruh.”

Miles then made a three-pointer which caused everybody in the stands, including you, to get on their feet and cheer loudly. The score was now 65-50 with Brooklyn Visions Academy leading the game at fifteen points.

“Ask Miles to put me on 16, help a sista out.”

“Why don't you just get his insta after the game?”

Armani widened her eyes at your response, “Are you crazy? I aint that bold to be going up to him like that.”

In the last couple of seconds of the third quarter, one of his teammate's shots bounced off the rim which resulted in Miles acting quickly and getting the rebound instead. Another loud and favorable reaction from the crowd erupted in the gym.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“GO MILES!”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“NUMBER 42 IS THE BEST PLAYA OUT THERE!”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“42 HAS MY HEART!”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“THATS MY MAN!”

You heard a couple of female voices yelling from behind you and decided to look back at the commotion. There was one girl holding up a sign that said “IN MILES WE TRUST” and others just screaming out his name.

You knew he was a well-known person in the school but didn't realize how much of the girls liked him.

“Damn, he got a whole fan club up in here.” Armani said as she laughed.

You turned back around to face the game, “The fuck, where these hoes even come from?”

“You gonna say something to them?”

“Nah.”

You weren't as fazed or threatened because you knew that Miles’s was yours. They weren't the ones that got to wear matching pj’s or watch poetic justice with him constantly. You got to share those moments with him, so what was there to be jealous of?

After their winning game of 103-92, Miles came up to you when everyone was leaving the stands.

“Te gusta el show que te hago mami?” (You like the show I put on for you mami?)

“It was ight.” You responded, obviously joking. 

He smirked and then tried to kiss you.

You pulled away “Nigga you’re dripping with sweat right now.”

“Shit, my bad.”

[amourane]

love notes in music

pairing: drummer!theodore nott x rich girl!reader

genre: fluff, modern au

w/c: 1.2k

summary: you always got what you wanted and the extremely hot drummer was no exception.

warnings: none

a/n: i am here to push forward the drummer theo agenda because yes yes and yes

Trouble was coming. You could feel it in your bones. Maybe it was the extra shot of espresso you had today or the wild predictions in your horoscope, but you definitely sensed something brewing. It didn’t help that Enzo had interrupted your lunch and dragged you back to campus for god knows what reason.

"Enzo if this is another one of your tricks to get me to dance with you it's not going to work. Remember what happened last time?" 

You dug your heels into the grass as your best friend continued to drag you across the field. The campus auditorium came into view and you frowned. There was no reason for you to even be there today so why was Enzo tugging you along like bait?

“Yes Y/n I remember what happened last time.”

"I fractured my ankle and I do not want to wear a cast ever again. I couldn't match the darn thing with any of my clothes." You huffed out a breath at the memory of the ugly accessory that the doctors had insisted on your wearing despite your protests. 

Admittedly you were a bit of a spoiled brat but at least you knew that you were. Going to a normal university was one of your father’s choices. You would have never gone somewhere so shabby on a daily basis. Truth be told on the first day, you were actually planning to ditch and go grab a chai latte. Then you bumped into Enzo accidentally and the two of you seemed to click. 

It was a good friendship. He’d always be able to tell you when you were being a tad bit annoying because of your rich girl behaviour and you’d be able to join him in his multiple activities. One which led to the infamous ankle incident. 

“Don’t worry Y/n, you’ll still be able to wear that Gucci jacket-”

“It was an Armani jacket.”

“Yeah yeah.” Enzo pushed open the door to the auditorium, and you were immediately greeted by the sound of drums pounding heavily. The amplified sound hurt your ears. “Welcome to the band.” 

“Um...Enzo, do I need to remind you of the time when I broke a guitar?” You nervously watched the live band on stage. Technically it wasn’t your fault that the guitar broke. Enzo never did tell you how to properly use it. “And when did you join a band?”

“Please don’t remind me Y/n also I didn’t actually join the band I’m more of a-”

“Hey Enzo!” 

The music stopped. Your head whipped around and your eyes nearly fell out of their sockets at the absolute hunk that had just shouted. His dark hair seemed to glow under the spotlight making him look like some sort of angel. Your mouth ran dry when he waved a drumstick at you. His fingers looked as if they’d been carved out of stone. And his biceps. God his biceps. The guy was ripped. He was a drummer as well. What was more sexy than a drummer?! 

“Hey Theo!” Enzo, your backstabbing friend who knew your weakness for hot boys with dark hair that played the drums, embraced him in a tight hug. “The practice is going well.”

“I know!” 

Good god, his eyes were like beautiful whirlpools of love. The two boys started talking animatedly about something to do with music. There were a few words thrown here and there that you recognised but other than that you stood watching wide-eyed at the conversation in front of you. 

“Who’s the pretty lady?”

Theo turned to face you and seeing his face up close only made you want to kiss him more. He really was gorgeous. You cleared your throat, straightening your skirt. “I’m Y/n, Enzo’s best friend, and you are?”

“Theo.” He offered you his hand, which you shook. Wow, his hands were soft. You were almost jealous. Time to buy new hand cream. “Hey, I’ve heard of you. You’re that girl who nearly broke her foot when dancing.”

Your cheeks flushed. Was this your legacy now? The girl that nearly broke her foot while dancing? How horrible. You would much rather be known for your stunning looks or incredible fashion sense. 

“Actually I twisted my ankle but who’s keeping track?” 

“Y/n isn’t the best dancer or guitarist.” Enzo chimed in. “She’s really good at maths though, she’s my second brain.” He said it as if you were simply another organ in his body, but you let it slide, trying to make a good impression on the drummer boy.

Theo chuckled, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Well, it's good to know Enzo has a brain to rely on."

You giggled at his remark, feeling the tension ease a bit. "Yeah, he needs all the help he can get."

"Hey!" Enzo protested, a small pout forming. "I'll have you know I'm quite capable on my own."

"Sure you are." You teased, nudging him playfully. Then, turning back to Theo, you asked, "So, what kind of music do you guys play?"

Theo's face lit up with enthusiasm. "We're a rock band, mostly. Some original stuff, a few covers. We're actually looking for a new guitarist. Interested?" He winked, clearly joking.

You shook your head, laughing. "After what happened last time? I think I'll pass. I'm more of an appreciator of talent than a participant. But I might be persuaded to attend a private concert."

Theo laughed, a rich, warm sound that made your heart flutter. "A private concert, huh? I think we can arrange that."

Enzo rolled his eyes. "Oh boy, here we go."

Ignoring Enzo, you leaned a bit closer to Theo, your voice dropping to a playful whisper. "So, Theo, do you always look this good while playing the drums, or is today a special occasion?"

Theo raised an eyebrow, his smile turning into a smirk. "I guess you'll have to come to more practices to find out."

You gave him a once-over, pretending to think it over. "Maybe. I do have a very busy schedule, you know.”

“Sounds like a yes to me. We’ve got a gig this weekend, free up some space in that glamorous life of yours and come.

You tried your best to conceal your excitement at the fact you had just scored yourself a date with a very hot drummer. Forget about trouble today was definitely the best day of your life. 

"Alright, I'll be there." You agreed, feeling a flutter of excitement in your stomach. "But only if you promise me a private drum lesson afterward."

"It's a deal. I'll make sure you get the VIP treatment." Theo’s grin only widened and you felt your heart stutter at the sight. He really was handsome and if you didn’t know how he was single but that was good news for you.

“I’ve got some studying to catch up on but I’ll hold you to that.” You offered him a wave goodbye as you made your way out of the auditorium with Enzo. Theo simply smiled, reciprocating your action. 

A giddy feeling overtook your body as the sun shone down on you. There were millions and millions of butterflies soaring in your stomach and you could only squeal at the idea of seeing Theo in the next few days. Before your best friend could say anything you spun on your heels, this time dragging him along with you.

“We need to go shopping right now, I need a new outfit for the weekend.” 

Enzo could only groan as his feet automatically moved. It was going to be a long day.

[dolcettamagica]

𐙚˙⋆.˚ 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐂𝐚𝐧 𝐁𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐨𝐬𝐬

ceo!sukuna x secretary!reader, modern au

tags: degradation, daddy kink, sexual indications and language notes: minors dni, listen to "you can be the boss" by lana del rey wc: 1.1k

Once again your Boss, Mr. Sukuna, was staring at you from across the private room at the bar you were drinking. It was almost a tradition that Sukuna invited everyone for a few drinks after an extremely hard day at work. As usual the most beautiful women were seated around him, all of them looking the same – tight pencil skirts and revealing blouses, the only difference being the colors of the said skirts. Yet his eyes were set on you, his secretary.

Feeling pressured, you avert your eyes from him. After all, you weren't blind, your boss was probably one of the most attractive men in the world. Nevertheless, you had resolved never to give yourself to him. Your job was more important than a man whose cock you would love to feel inside you.

There was another point that motivated you to stay away from Sukuna. All the female colleagues hated you. How dare you become his secretary? You. The innocent little mouse who worked in the company for less than three months. Nobody understood why Sukuna chose you out of all the applicants who were eagerly waiting for his acceptance. So engaging in any kind of sexual relationship with your boss would be a death sentence at your workplace.

As your shot glass touched your lips to take another sip, you looked back over at your boss and in that moment your eyes met.

Sukuna was able to get any woman he wanted and he would also be able to get any woman in general. He knew exactly what power he had over women. You, however, were still under his spell, still clinging to some irrelevant moral values. You were a challenge to him and he loved challenges.

Normally, secretaries always sat next to their bosses, but you always occupied the seat furthest away from him and out of sight. This time you were far away, but right at the other end of the table, giving him the perfect view.

Sukuna took in every little detail of your appearance. Your freshly washed hair, tied back in a neat braid. Oh, how he would love to take that hair in his hand and pull it while he thrusts into you from behind. Making you scream and beg for his cock to reach deeper into your clenching little pussy. A loose blouse was buttoned up to the neck, but Sukuna knew exactly what you looked like in tight clothes. After all, your Instagram was public. It would be so easy to stand up and rip off your blouse to take your big tits into his mouth.

"Mr. Sukuna, sir, are you listening?", he heard some woman almost begging for his attention. To be honest, he didn't even know what this chick's name was. Everyone was the same in his eyes, desperate. She pressed her chest against her arm, her tits almost falling out of her top. "You look so good in that suit, is it Armani?" He was wearing his best suit today, since he had something special planned. A bloodred suit with a black shirt underneath, he deliberatly left a few buttons unbuttoned. 

“Ms. y/n”, he called out, "You're staying late today. We have something important to discuss." The entire room fell silent. He sounded so serious. The other women beamed with shameful joy, imagining him screaming at you and firing you. He had completely different things playing out in his imagination though.

Blood rushed to up your cheeks as soon as you heard him call your name, his voice deep and husky. “Y-yes, boss.” You would have loved to run away. If you had known that your boss still wanted to talk to you afterwards, you wouldn't have drunk anything. You were already tipsy, doubting your self-control. Alone with Mr. Sukuna in this private room was both dangerous and seductive.

A few hours have passed and everyone has left, everyone except you and Sukuna. As soon as the room was empty you heard your boss's voice “Crawl over.”

“I’m-I’m sorry, what? I…I think I drank too much.”

“I said crawl over, now.”

Was it because of the alcohol in your system or was it because of Sukuna's deep dominant voice? Your body moved faster than your brain could register the movements and you slowly crawled over to him. Meanwhile Sukuna pushed the table further away from him. He was sitting on the ground, criss-crossed, something that was normal in japanese culture. “What a good little girl, listening to her boss”, he taunted you, his red eyes staring at you.

Ashamed and slightly turned on you knelt in front of him. What kind of situation was that and why the hell did you follow his orders? There was no time to search for an answer because Sukuna had already grabbed you by your throat and pulled you closer to him.

“You need to stop acting all hard to get, little one, it makes me want to ruin you. I know your pussy gets wet for me. Everytime you push your thighs together when I scream at a subordinate or the sudden breaks you need to take after I praise you. You like that, right? Being praised, gets your cunt soaking and seeking for my cock. Desperate slut.”

There was no room to answer once again. As your lips met, a wave of heat surged between you two, igniting a fiery passion that had been smoldering beneath the surface. The air around you seemed to sizzle with anticipation as you surrendered to the magnetic pull drawing you closer.

His hands found their way to your waist, pulling you in with an urgency that mirrored the racing of your hearts. Your lips moved in perfect synchrony, exploring and tasting, each kiss more fervent than the last. The warmth of your breath mingled, creating a heady mix of desire and longing that filled the space between you.

Time seemed to stand still as you melted into each other, your bodies pressed together in a dance of passion and need. Every touch sent shivers down your spines, igniting a hunger that could only be satiated Sukuna himself.

In that stolen moment, nothing else mattered but the electrifying connection you shared. It was a kiss that set your souls ablaze, leaving you both breathless and hungry for more. And as you finally pulled away, your eyes locked in a daze of desire, you knew that this was just the beginning of an unforgettable journey of lust.

“Here, slut”, a cigarette with a number on it was placed next to you on the table, “This is my private number. Call me. If you don’t, daddy will punish you real good, understand?” And with that he stood up, leaving you needy and hungry. Still out of breath your eyes fixated on the cigarette.

Would you text him or stand your ground?

[gaysindistress]

gif credits to @sebastianstannibal

Here's part two to the fake dating drabble I wrote for @bucks-and-noble's Valentrope fest

warnings: smut and lowkey violence but not to f!reader. plain and simple this is porn. please do not read if you're a minor.

bucky's masterlist | main masterlist

“I’m apologizing right now for what you’re about to walk into.”

Bucky clears his throat and readjusts in the driver’s seat as we slowly drive down the long driveway lined with manicured hedges. 

“What are you talking about?” 

The wedding that I dragged him to is for a friend that Bucky isn’t particularly fond of, something I neglected to mention but I knew he wouldn’t agree if I told him. Honestly I’m surprised that he hasn’t caught on yet with how many signs we’ve passed on the way to the venue. He’s been rather distracted stealing glances at me. 

“Aw fuck,” he curses when he finally does see the biggest sign yet. “This is Maisie’s wedding, isn’t it?”

Cocking my head at him, I bat my lashes and pout my lips, “Forgive me?”

He inhales sharply. Against his better judgment, glances at my glossy lips and then to my chest. The sweetheart neckline as well as the bias cut of my navy dress is exactly why I chose to wear it. Bucky’s always had a wandering eye when it comes to ‘an angel in the flesh’ as he puts it but right now it’s down right sinful. He’s eyeing me like the Devil lurks beneath his matching navy Armani suit and he’s ready to devour me whole. 

“You owe me after this,” he finally says with a dramatic sigh. 

The ceremony went exactly how I imagined it would ourlPampas grass, dried sage, and red flora that I’ve never seen before covers every inch of the aisle as well as every other surface. Burnt orange cheesecloths drape from the trees, the six different wood arches, and run across all of the tables. The signs that Maisie definitely had her bridal party help her make are everywhere and written on them are sayings that Bucky can’t stop making jokes about. 

“Babe, I can’t make this up. That sign says ‘This way to buffet, booze, and bad dance moves.’ What ring of hell is this?”

“Oh my god, Bucky, you need to shut up. These are the type of people to say ‘bless your heart’ and pray for god to smite you in your sleep,” I whisper to him. I loop my arm around his and he’s quick to put his hand over the top of mine on his bicep. 

“If it gets me away from this place, then I’d welcome it.”

I roll my eyes at him and keep us moving towards the open field where the reception is at. 

“Y/N? Is that you?” 

I tense beside my fake boyfriend and hesitantly look over my shoulder to see the one person I did not expect to see here; my ex boyfriend Marc. 

“If that’s who I think that is,” Bucky grumbles and curses under his breath when he sees who it is. “I’m going to kill Maisie. Why would she invite that cunt?”

“Bucky, behave.” I mumble to him and turn to greet this cunt, “Marc, hi how are you?”

The first thing he does is look me up and down, eyes lingering on my chest just as I expected. Bucky’s arm slips from mine and finds its way around my waist where he tugs me into his side and squeezes my hip. Marc smirks at his actions as he finally makes eye contact with me. 

“I’m good. I see your dog finally worked up the courage...”

Bucky cuts him by clearing his throat, “You’d do well to remember that this ‘dog’ isn’t with a bite.”

“Are you threatening me?”

“Have the evening you deserve,” I tell him before I drag Bucky away and towards whatever shit bar they have. 

The dog on my arm has other plans and pulls me off to the side where there’s just a tree with even more cheesecloth swinging in the wind. He glances around to make sure no one is around before letting his hardened demeanor fall away and to reveal the adorable face he makes when he’s stressed. It’s not healthy to think that someone in a vulnerable state is ‘adorable’ but I can’t help it when his brows furrows together, his jaw tenses, and he looks at me with all the concern in the world. 

“Doll I need you to be honest with me right now; how many more people like that am I going to run into at this thing?” 

That concern has morphed into something darker and it has me straightening my back, squaring my shoulders, and my thighs clenching. 

“Well I didn’t know that he…” I trail off as Bucky draws closer. His blue eyes are piercing into the fabric of my soul the closer he gets to me and I find myself backing up to get away. Rough bark scratches at my back and my hair gets tangled into it as I crane my head up to look at the mob boss. 

“I’m going to have to stop you there. Who else could be here?” 

Chest heaving and breathing short, I shake my head at him. “I don’t know. I didn't see anyone else.”

A hand finds its way to my jaw and the other plants itself against the tree next to my head. He tilts my chin up and ghosts his lips over mine while calling me a good girl. My eyes flutter shut at the name and his low voice. 

“Tell me your rules again.” He pulls away from me and watches me with hooded eyes as I glare at him. 

“No kissing, minimal touching, and no violence,” I spit out at him. 

“I think,” he starts, letting his eyes flicker to my parted lips as his thumb rubs under them, “we should revise them a bit.”

“What do you propose they be then?”

“No violence is changed to only when necessary,” his thumb presses into my bottom lip. “Minimal touching becomes whatever I see fit,” it pulls my lip down slightly. “And no kissing goes away altogether,” it slips into my mouth and I greedily wrap my lips around it, sucking at it while he lets out a shuddered breath. 

I let it go with a pop and a thin line of spit breaks after his thumb comes to rest on my chin. 

“What do you say, doll?”

Pushing away from the tree, I grip the lapels of his jacket and pull him flush against my chest. I push up onto my toes and flick his earlobe with my tongue before whispering, “this is all fake. You don’t get to change the rules because you don’t like them. They stay exactly as they are.”

The look of determination set on his face is immensely satisfying especially. I’ve seen how his past girls have completely submitted to him, allowing him to control every aspect of their relationship because that’s how he likes it. Bucky is a man that needs to feel powerful and stable at all times and that extends to even the smallest things. Many of our nights out have been ruined for some reason or another. Most of the time I don’t even know why, just that I’m being shuffled out the back door with a circle of heavily armed men around me while Bucky deals with the mistake. 

“I know you’re not a gambler, my sweet y/n but I’d like to make a bet with you.”

I quirk a brow, “what kind of bet?”

“If you haven’t broken your rules by the end of the night, I’ll take you to Greece. If you break or even bend them, you have to go on a date with me.”

My hands stop brushing down his lapels and I stare blankly at him. “Greece and Italy. For three weeks.”

“Whatever you want, doll but,” he warns me with a finger raised between us and points it at me, “you can’t break your rules even a little bit.” 

I snap at him, pretending to bite his finger and he yanks it back with a smile. “You have a bet but keep your finger to yourself.” 

Bucky nods with a smile still wide on his stunning face. He backs up, giving me space to make myself presentable again before taking us back to the reception. It’s already turned into an event of debauchery and sin with guests taking shots, hitting pens, and forming a grinding circle on the dance floor. 

Maisie finds me within moments and screams as she races over to me. 

“Y/n babe! Oh my god! You’re here!” She shrieks and pulls me into a bone crushing hug. She has two shots in her hand and they nearly spill on my back but somehow the drink girl prevents that from happening. 

Bucky chuckles before leaving us to go find drinks. Maisie shoots him a dirty glare before it turns into a drink smile and she’s vibrating with glee. 

I arch a brow at her, “what was that for?”

She blinks at me. “What was what?”

“That look you gave him.”

“Ohhhhh,” she sighs and shoves a shot into my hand, “that. You know I don’t like him and now you guys are dating and ugh. He’s always such an ass and controlling and moody and I don’t understand what you see in him. He’s a dick and I just..”

“Okay okay, I get it. You don’t like him,” I roll my eyes at her, “but you said the same thing about Marc and he’s here.”

“No, there's a difference. Jake and him are friends. Also are you really arguing with me at my wedding? That’s really fucking rude,” Maisie tries to sound stern but giggles slip out between her words and her smile breaks her expression. “Come on! Come have fun with me. I wanna dance and drink and have fun! Take your shot, you pussy!” 

I playfully growl at her before we both throw back the tequila shots. Before I can say something smart back, she has an iron grip on my wrist and is dragging me to the dance floor. The music pounds so loud that I feel it in my chest, worming its way around my body and getting me high off the adrenaline. Unable to feel the difference between my heartbeat and the bass, I allow it to overcome me as Maisie starts to bounce and sway in front of me. It’s as if the deep vibrations of the music are controlling and contorting our bodies in whatever way it sees fit. My eardrums feel like they might burst but the tequila is hitting faster than I thought it would and my only concern is dancing. 

I find myself so completely entranced with the music, the drinking, and Maisie’s chaotic dancing that I don’t notice the big hands that find my waist. They pull me backwards causing my back to hit a solid body and the smell of familiar expensive cologne washes over me. Maisie grins as her new husband does the same to her and she turns her head so they can kiss like sloppily teenagers. The hands at my waist start to guide my hips into a lazy grind against theirs. Maisie’s overwhelming perfume masks the differences in the one behind me so much that I don’t even notice that it’s not the same as the one Bucky wears. Where I should be smelling Tom Ford’s Tobacco Vanille, Blue de Chanel is in its place. 

My eyes flutter closed and my head drops back against the chest behind me. There’s a rumbling at my back from the chuckle that this man lets out. One of his hands leaves my waist and trails up until it’s resting on my neck. Cradling my jaw, he softly kisses under my ear before whispering, “you finally escaped your dog?”

I hear Maisie say my name and she draws my focus from the man behind me to her. She’s offering her hand out to me as she rubs her nose. There’s a thin white line across the top of her hand and her thumb.

“Maisie, is that coke?” I hiss at her and try to pull away from my dance partner. He doesn’t let me and I whip around to see that it’s Marc. The cologne makes sense now and I rip his hands off of me, “Jesus Christ get away from me!”

“Oh my god, calm down. You’re so dramatic sometimes,” Maisie whines before snorting the line she’d offered me. 

Marc’s heated stare starts to get under my skin and a shutter races through me before I can stop it. My eyes frantically scan the crowd, searching for the oceanic ones that I see in my dreams every night. 

They find me in moments. 

A mix of emotions floods me as we lock eyes; first a wave of relief quickly followed by fear. Even from this distance I can see the tension in his shoulders, the muscle feathering in his jaw, the scowl set on his face, and the dead look in his eyes that he only gets when murder is on his mind. 

Marc yanks me back into him and the countless memories of arguments and bitter looks rush back to me. When we dated he knew exactly how to piss me off, how to push every button I had and get under my skin. He would challenge me any chance he got, making me feel small and insignificant. He would say the cruelest things to invade my mind and destroy my self esteem. 

“Stop fucking around, Marc.” Bucky sighs with a deep set scowl as he comes to stand before us. “Let go of her and I’ll think about letting you keep your hands.”

Marc’s grip tightens around my bicep as he scoffs, “oh I’m so scared. The big bad wolf is threatening me, whatever ever am I going to do? Fuck off Barnes.”

The crowd around us is none the wiser to the chaos that is about to erupt and quite frankly I don’t even think I know what’s about to happen. Maisie’s husband pulls her away when she tries to step between the three of us and keeps her against him. Bucky dips his head and rubs at his eyes as he lets out another annoyed sigh. He mumbles ‘alright’ as her his breath before flipping back his suit jacket, reading behind himself, and producing his favored Glock 19. It’s aimed directly at the invisible red mark between Marc’s eyes and my ex immediately drops me in favor of throwing his hands up in the air. 

“Now step back,” Bucky utters as he slowly stalks towards us. I side step as best as I can to get out of the way.  Marc does as he’s told and of course Bucky needs to pour salt in the wound. “The next time I see you I won’t give you a warning.”

Neither man moves until Bucky pretends to lunge forward and Marc stumbles backwards to get away. He turns his attention to Maisie while he tucks his gun away and extends a hand out to me. 

“And you,” he starts with a sharp nod to her, “you do something like that again and I’ll wire your husband’s balls to a railroad track, do you understand me?”

“Bucky,” I whisper to him with a light pull on his hand but he doesn’t budge. 

“Do you understand me?” He repeats and Maisie nods frantically while her husband looks pale and like he might throw up. 

“Bucky,” I try again and he glances at me before squeezing my hand and leading me away. 

“Excuse me!” I try again and come to a complete halt once the wedding is behind us. My hand slips from his and so does my sense of safety. Bucky’s eyes widened for a moment at my tone before going back to their usual dead expression. 

He sets off in a near jog to the car, leaving me behind. “You fucking prick,” I curse before running to catch up with him. I grab his arm and force him to stop. “What the fuck was that back there?”

I apparently didn’t realize how close we were because when he turns around, we’re chest to chest. His nose is flared from how hard he’s breathing and his eyes are piercing as he stares down at me. 

“No one,” he whispers as he leans into me, “gets to treat you like that.”

“I know but no violence was one of my rules and you…”

He cuts me off, “Doll, I’m not the man you seem to think I am. Who I am around you, how I act around you is not the same man everyone else sees. I wash the blood off of my hands before I visit you because I don’t want my girl to be tainted by the shit I do. I change suits so that you don’t smell the stench of guns and filth that permeates my business meetings. I keep men assigned to you around the clock so that no one gets close to you without me knowing. The man I am with you, y/n, is someone that no one else gets to see and that's the way I want to be. I don’t you to know the Bucky that my men know and that’s why I let you drag me here as your fake boyfriend and agree to your silly fucking rules. I respected the fact that you didn’t want to change them and I was fully prepared to bite my tongue but then Marc put his hands on you. That was unacceptable and I should’ve shot him right then and there but I didn’t because you would’ve never forgiven me. I can live without a lot but you aren’t someone I’m willing to give up.”

My eyes flicker to his lips, betraying my need to maintain control over my emotions and the situation. My hands drift up his arm and stop on his chest. His heart thumps steadily against my hand despite his confession and the night in general. 

“I’m not willing to give you up either,” I cooed and pulled him down into a passionate kiss before he could stop me. He grunts in surprise before kissing me back with equal fire and cradling my face in his hands. 

He pulls back and rests his forehead against mine, “You owe me a date.”

“Fuck off,” I mumble back and dive back into a searing kiss. His hands find my waist and pin me against him, causing his hard bulge to press into my abdomen. I can feel myself start to grow wet as he head dips down to press kisses along the curve of my neck. I inhale sharply, craning my neck further to the side to allow him more access. His lips latch onto my pulse point as my fingers lace into his hair, tugging at the short styled strands. 

A particularly sharp tug causes him to groan against my skin and he pulls away to meet my lustful gaze.

“Backseat now,” he orders while taking a step back. It doesn't register what he means at first but another step away and reality sets in. I take my heels off, keeping our eyes locked as I slip off my birthday present from him last year. 

“Doll,” he says slowly, “I said…”

“I heard what you said,” I throw over my shoulder as I strut past him and towards his car. 

The second I open the car door his hands are gripping my waist to hoist me inside as he climbs in behind me. Bucky moves me to sit on his lap and he silences any chance of me arguing with a hungry kiss. His hands burn as they knead and grope at the silk of my dress, desperately searching for a handful of me as he licks at my lips to let his tongue in. His lips are soft, a beautiful surprise as his calloused hands as they slide against my own, no doubt smearing my lipstick all over. 

Finally fed up with the silky fabric of my dress, his hands find their way under where he grabs a handful of my ass. The feeling of his warm hand against the slivers of skin that peak through my lace underwear causes us both to moan. The sound has me unbuttoning his jacket and shoving it off his shoulders before moving to his shirt. One of his hands stays on my ass, beginning to knead it as the other attempts to find the zipper at my back. 

“Shit Doll,” he moans out as my cold hands get his shirt undone and explore the expanse of his chest. He bucks up into me and I break the kiss to dive my head down to his neck to place open-mouthed kisses there. Breathless moans and sighs fall from his lips as our hips move in sync. 

The strong hand that is on my ass has migrated from groping the supple fat to playing with the waistband on my panties. He lifts his hips to sit lower in the seat and spreads his legs, prying mine apart in the process. Those thick digits slip down until they find the wet heat he’s caused. His palm cups me entirely and I whimper against his neck at the feeling. 

“Fuck, don’t tell me you’re this wet because i threatened that cunt?” 

All I can do is gasp when he pushes aside my panties and runs his middle finger through my folds. It slips between my folds and I curse his name. My back arches in as he runs another finger through them and spreads the wetness around my clit. 

“Yes, oh my god, yes,” I pant out. If it wasn’t for his fingers pushing into me, I would’ve been horrified at the desperate desire that’s ripping wanton moans from my swollen lips. 

The feeling of his thick fingers scissoring as his thumb finds my clit causes me to moan into his mouth. The familiar tightening in my stomach is building until it crashes over me while gasps and quiet chants of his name mark the beginning of the end. I clench around his fingers as my eyes flutter shut and I allow myself to fall into the blinding white light that’s consuming me. He removes his hands from my core to grip my hips again. 

I lean in for a deep kiss as my hips start to rock against his clothed cock, grinding my sensitive clit over him with a gasp. One of my hands finds his belt and quickly unbuckles it before diving in his pants to find his cock.  Bucky lets out a shuddering sigh at the feeling of my hand gripping him and giving him a few tugs, spreading his precum around the tip.

“Careful Doll,” he warns against my lips as I rub his tip against my clit, “You don’t want to tease me.”

“And what are you going to do if I decide…” he interrupts by maneuvering me by the waist and slamming me down onto his cock. My hands fly to his chest to steady myself from the sudden movement and we both let out sinful moans. He moves us at a fast and bruising pace, hitting every spot I didn’t know existed. Nothing compares to the way he feels, not my own fingers, a toy, or any past lover. I can’t help the way that I frantically grind down against him. I can feel the car begin to shake from the force of our bodies searching for our mutual releases. My legs feel like they are on fire from keeping myself upright over Bucky but it doesn’t matter. His strong grip does the work for me. 

The smell of pure sex is thick in the air while mixing with the filthy wet sounds of hips meeting each other and two people finding endless pleasure in each other. My orgasm is fast approaching once again and so is his when he starts let out broken moans and curses. “F-fuck…” he groans, “I can feel it, doll. Come for me. Let go with me.” 

"Yes please," I pant back. "Don't stop, please."

He squeezes his eyes tight as he thrusts up a few more harsh times before he becomes sloppy and moves a hand to rub at my swollen clit. The sudden touch sends a jolt through me and I cry out over and over again as my orgasm washes over me. Bucky pants out my name as he too releases and wraps his arms around me, pulling me against his chest. As we both start to come down from our highs, he places light kisses against my forehead and hair. 

Soft and quiet praises are muttered into my skin, “Did so good for me, doll. So proud of you. Absolutely perfect.”

Maybe dragging him to this wedding was a good idea.

[sugar-plum-writer]

No One Else <3

Tags: Creampie; rough sex; cum-play; size kink; over-stimulation; public sex; whored out; spanking; unprotected sex; manhandling; MDNI (18+!); smut; NSFW + NSFW; Public Sex; humiliation; degradation kink; porn with little plot; fem!reader

A/n: Finally I am back from Hiatus~ my college exams over woo-hoo! enjoy this fic~ feel free to send asks and your ideas for other fics~

Synopsis: What happens when your boss- The Gojo Satrou your boss the CEO sees you fucking the manager instead of him? How could you? aren't secretaries of CEO's meant to seduce the CEO's?

Word count: 2.2k

Gojo

Moans escaped your lips as you sat on your manager's lap; you've always been the pretty obedient secretary everyone loved- hell you were always looked up to by the people around you at work. The perfect "secretary" of CEO Gojo Satoru of the multi-billion dollar company "The Gojo Corporation" just their logo the italic fancy "G" was enough for everyone to bow their heads in respect.

Your boss being the most sought after bachelor- tall, handsome, rich, future head of the Gojo Corporation who could manipulate the global market with a lift of his finger. You liked him who would not? though you never confessed as well- why would he ever look your way when top models, actresses, etc where always around him?

"Who knew you were such a natural huh? CEO Gojo must sure love having his way with you", kissing your neck and whispering in a deep voice- his eyes darkened as he smirked biting your neck and leaving hickeys

"Ah- ", your eyes glossy as you grinded on his bulge trying to earn even a little bit of stimulation- "B- Boss Satoru… hah…he never fucked me till now", you blurted out as you panted

You were fucking your manager- scandalous? yes; if anyone saw you right now? Hell, Gojo will chew you out alive and even fire you for breaking the rules. The only reason you were even taking this risk was because the manager was hot and your brain just had lost it today from stress

As you looked into his eyes as you kissed him- the olive green eyes nearly hypnotized you, he could never beat your boss Gojo's hotness but hey? who can blame you for getting the second-hottest guy to fuck you? especially with how frustrated with work you are these days.

Non-stop meetings, travel from one country to another, prepare your boss Gojo's documents, schedule, deal with his affairs and what not

Gotta Blow off some steam cause working overtime for money is not enough to fulfill your needs

"Is that so? hm-", chuckling darkly he grabbed you by the jaw "Well- a secretary as good as you deserve to be fucked we-"

Before the next words could be uttered the door suddenly opened- making your jaw drop in horror. It was your boss- Gojo Satoru the CEO

His Italian leather shoes shined as usual- was it the new Armani shirt he was wearing? your eyes looked him up and down nervously as you got off your manager's lap. Sharp black suit, his white hair swept back making him look even bossier than before- and the cold look in his azure eyes- made you gulp

You are fucked today, aren't you?

"Oh, sir! This-" your manager tries to speak, his hands shaking as got up from the chair, "Fired"

Without batting his eyes he just walked towards you, hands in his pockets- sharp- intimidating- completely different from how he normally was

The look he was giving you made you shudder- your legs nearly going weak

"Boss- this! I can explain-" Coming to your senses you scrambled to explain

"How annoying", he grabbed you by the jaw tilting your head as he gazed at the hickies your manager had left even more pissed, "Is my secretary this much of a whore? Should have added that to your resume tsk"

"S-Sir!- please- I really"

"Really what? my dear secretary?", his grip tightening on your wrist as he dragged you with him outside. The whole office floor was looking at you two awe-struck about what the hell was going on

Why is the secretary's neck covered in hickies today?

How did the Miss perfect secretary get on Mr. Gojo's bad side?

"Do you wanna be fucked that badly?", with a whisper he chomped down on your neck- teeth grazing your neck- over the hickies the manager had left- blood coating his lips as he looked into your eyes- so possessively it was scary

"G-Gojo- ah! it hurt-", wincing you tried to push him away making him only pin you against the wall biting harder- as if ingraining into your bones on who you belonged to

"Gojo- Sir-!" gasping you cling to him as tears trickled down your eyes, "E-Everyone is- hah look-!" Before any words could be uttered, he kissed you hard with his tongue biting your lips and making you breathless

"Hah so?"

"Taking the risk of getting fired for him is fine? fucking me the man who owns the place is embarrassing? huh", pulling back- a string of saliva connected you both; he brought his knee up and grinded against your cunt. The expensive suit probably worth more than your months of salary combined covered in your slick.

"Ah-" you gasped as the sudden wave of pleasure hit you- "Gojo!" eyes wide you dug your nails into his back- your poor cunt was ruthlessly being abused by him right now

"Please- Merc-y! ah-", you squirmed pathetically but he just got even harsher

"Shall we show them all, how much of a whore you are? hm? The oh-so-perfect secretary is a hidden slut?", he whispered darkly sending goosebumps down your spine

It was pathetic how even in such a situation your cunt just kept getting wetter- your slick covered his pants as his knee continued to grind against your pussy. All sloppily and puffy asking for mercy as it dripped in front of the whole office.

"I-I am not a Slu-! ah!" you moaned again as you squirmed, "Then what are you getting even wetter for huh?", smirking he leaned in, "You wanna cum so bad? Shall I make you cum my dear secretary?"

"W-What? G-Gojo please…'tis too m-mu-" Before another word could be said his grinding got even harsher, "Ah- ahh-" gasping you arch your back cumming all over his pants- juices all gushing out dripping all over the pristine floor

"hah- ah..." you panted your brain hazily- hell your legs were still shaking from the intense orgasm- "Gojo…Sir..", you gazed up at him with your glassy eyes

"Fuck…" he whispered under his breath

"Guess I really should have fucked you before huh?", removing his tie he dropped it on the floor while simultaneously he removed his coat- god- he wanted to fuck you till he owned you- the way you were looking at him was better than all imaginations he conjured up while he jerked off thinking of you

"Y-Your heard everything? i-inside?", hearing his words made your eyes widen- goosebumps spreading across your skin after all how long was he standing? how did he know? so many questions swirled your already hazy brain

"I did", with a smirk he spoke, his voice strained by how much he was holding himself back from his ramming his dick into you

"A good secretary deserves to be fucked well right?", with a dark animalistic gaze he leaned in as he whispered- his deep voice enough to make you lose your mind; god have mercy

You don't know why but the way he said it made the walls of your cunt clench tight oozing with desire- You might at this point give in to being fucked in front of the whole office

"Mr.Gojo should have had his way long ago huh? How much of a natural you are", he continued to whisper as his hands went to your clitoris stroking it and making you moan even harder as you held onto him

"Ah-", your brain already felt hazy from the previous intense orgasm, "'toru- please..please..I wanna cum! Please!", the pleasure again was making your brain numb- the whispers, his hand on your clit, stroking it- teasing you while you gasped and moaned in front of the whole office

"I don't think so- after all which good secretary goes and fucks her manager instead of her boss huh?", he smacked your cunt- making it even more puffy as pre-cum dripped out of you

"N-No…Ah! I mean-", whining your grip on him tightened even more- tears spilled out- the pleasure was too good, and at this point, you did not care he was fucking you in front of the whole office

"You keep forgetting whose paycheck you are on dear- what about him even made you think he could give it to you better huh?", pissed he pinched your clitoris making you mewl and cum instantly

It was too much- he was too mean- the pleasure was too much- you were nothing but a mess right now- cum dripping all over, tear-stained face- voice cracked from all the moaning- you wanted to save your poor cunt from more abuse- but it felt so good

He looked so hot hell just when you thought he could not get hotter he just did

The carnal gaze, his icy cold blue eyes looking into yours, tie and coat on the floor, shirt unbuttoned, his hair slight bit messy- while he made you cum again and again- his deep voice- you were melting under him all the while the employees just stood stunned

"If you had seduced me like a good secretary does- you would not be like this you know?", smirking he sat down on the couch kept in the center of the office floor; all the eyes still on you two, "It's time you really show the skills you got darling"

Mind hypnotized by the sheer desire you were feeling right now- you literally crawled to him- legs shaking from the previous orgasms as you looked up at him- embarrassed, shameful, literally you felt so humiliated right now you could die but hey? even god won't blame you right? he was so- hypnotic it's like he just knew how to have his way

"Y-Yes Sir...", pushing your hair aside he brought your face close to his dick, "I don't think I need to tell you want to do?"

"No sir...", hazily you started sucking on his dick dragging your tongue from the base to the tip- he was so big; you knew he was big but this big? the veins on his dick pulsing as his hand gripped the back of your head

"Fuck..", he tossed his head back, "-should have done this long back"

You kept sucking, pre-cum dribbling down your chin as you kept going- tongue swirling around the tip

"Shit- Fuck-" , without a warning he rammed his dick deep into your mouth- deep throating you as he buried your face into his crotch

"G-Gojo- ah!", chocking on his dick tears trickled down your eyes from pleasure. His cum dripped out of your mouth, your face covered in cum as you gazed up at him. Next thing you knew he pulled you onto his lap and rammed his dick into your pouty sloppy and pathetic cunt- he was too big- your poor hole had to work overtime to adjust to his length with how big he was

"'toru..", you looked at him in the eyes with the last bit of rationality gone. You really had lost it today- how will you ever face the office from here on out? secretary letting her boss fuck her in the middle of the office floor and even sucking his dick for him? That too the CEO Gojo Satoru of the "Gojo Corporation" quite the headline for the morning news- the list goes on as you imagined the headlines

"Dragged from fucking manager to boss!"

"What's the relationship between Mr. Gojo and his secretary?"

"Did Mr. Gojo pay her? How much money was involved?"

"Secret revealed! learn to suck Dick from Mr. Gojo's secretary! Exclusive interview from sugar daddy website editor!"

...

Smirking he started stroking your clit again rubbing your clitoris- fingers moving in circles teasing you so much you could hit him- too bad your whole body was shaking right now. The smirk that always made your heart flutter, was making your heart flutter even now; though you tried to bury the feelings it never worked and certainly not right now

"You really are quite the piece of work~ huh dear secretary?", he whispered as he continued to jerk you off while his dick kept ramming into you, "'toru! ah! 'tis too much...I can't!...I really can't!", digging your nails onto his back you continued to moan

"You can, you are a good secretary of mine aren't you? be a good girl and cum", increasing his pace he stretched your folds making you curl your toes from pleasure and intensity your vision went white for a minute you though you could see the gates of heaven

"I-'m cumming!...ah! 'toru!" burying your face of the crook of his neck you came again at this point you had no idea how many times you came- all you knew was just pleasure in your hazy mind as you knocked yourself out exhausted

Little did you know Gojo in the mean time you were asleep on his lap- continued to make the employees work unbothered of everything that happened as he carried you in his arms- all security footage and everything was over-ridden and edited- you were all his after all- and only he get's to have his way like this with you

As for your Manager may lord have mercy on him, how dare he think he could lay his hands on you?

"Just say the word and it's yours after all- there is nothing I Gojo Satoru cannot do all you gotta do you open your mouth darling~"

Link to my Masterlist!

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Devil Wears Armani 2

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as age gap, noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: you’re the CEO’s new PA and you find the work too much to handle. (short!reader)

Characters: Tony Stark, this reader is known as Georgie.

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself💜

---posting to the correct blog lol---

💼Part of the Bad Bosses AU💼

After the week you’ve had, the need for a strong drink is irresistible. You’re almost there. Friday. You just need to make it through the day. There’s only one obstacle in your way. Mr. Stark. 

You bring him his ritualistic cafe au lait just after noon. He has an airpod in his ear, chattering on a call as he clicks around his floating computer screen. You keep your head down, making yourself invisible as you place the cup on a coaster. He leans back in his white leather chair as he speaks, reaching quickly for the coffee. 

“Yeah, Rogers, maybe, I don’t know about you but I’m not looking to invest right now. I got enough eggs to hatch...” Stark sips as he rests his other hand on his thigh.  

Before you can retreat, your eyes flick over and see the moving image on the monitor. You don’t react. You just backpedal and return to your desk, gently closing the door as to not disturb your call. You might commend him for multitasking if it wasn’t so inappropriate. 

You cup your chin and zero in on your screen, fighting the images seared into your eyes. The woman’s ass spread wide as the man... nope. Not today. 

Mr. Stark’s reputation is less than pristine. Everyone knows how he is but he’s the CEO. Who’s going to say anything? Or do anything? Coming into the role, you expected a demanding workload and a finicky boss, but not everything else. Not the blatant disregard for others and brazen lack of shame. 

You glance over at his door before you dare to take out your phone. You lay it next to your keyboard and keep your hand under your chin. You look down as you press to unlock and read the messages from the other girls. Izzie can’t make it, she’s out in the field, but the others are down. Awesome. 

You scroll through the gif catalogue and send a celebratory reaction. Mr. Stark’s door startles you and you slide your phone up under your monitor stand to try to hide it. You put your attention back to the calendar and swoop your mouse around the pad. 

Stark approaches as he slurps loudly over the brim of his cup. You feel the weight of his gaze and meet it shyly, pushing your glasses up your nose as you sit up. You can’t quite smile as your jaw locks up. 

“Sir?” You greet him in confusion. 

“So, Friday,” his brown eyes dip down to consider the depths of the mug, “got any exciting plans?” 

You look left then right and back at him. Your brow twitches in surprised confusion. Mr. Stark never asks about your personal life. He only ever talks about his private jet and high-life getaways to locations you could never dream of. Your cocktails are meagre compared to his elite lifestyle. 

“No, sir,” you say. “How about you?” 

He smirks and tilts his head. He slowly prowls around your desk and you swivel your chair to face him as he nears the corner to your right. You tilt to look up at him. 

“Ah, the usual, there’s this sweet little blonde thing down in Barbados waiting for me,” he chuckles as his eyes rove over your desk, “no dates? No... partying?” 

“Sir, I... just errands.” 

“Uh huh,” he clucks and reaches for your mouse. Nope. He swerves and swipes up your phone as it lights up beneath the stand. Shoot. “Social hour, huh?” 

“No, sir. I just shut off an alarm and forgot--” 

“You’re a bad liar, stop it,” he warns as he brings your phone up and reads the messages popping up, “girls’ night?” He looks at you over the cell, “that sounds like more than errands to me.” 

“Well, sir, I didn’t think... it was important.” 

“Must be if you’re texting at work,” he tosses the phone at you and you catch it as it lands in your lap. “You been to Barbados?” 

“Barbados? No?” You answer dumbly, no expecting the question. 

“Wanna go?” 

You hesitate. Is this some trick? It���s like when he was taunting Walker last week, baiting him into giving answers that made him look stupid.

“Sir, maybe one day, I guess, I never thought--” 

“No thinking. I know you’re not that fucking simple,” he reaches to poke your forehead and your recoil. “Don’t get too fucking crazy tonight, sweetheart, jet takes off at six. In the morning.” 

You frown and shake your head. He can’t mean what you think. 

“Should I have your luggage--” 

“Be there,” he demands and gulps back a mouthful. He slams down the empty mug on your desk and backs up, “if you’re still thirsty, they got cocktails on the plane.” 

He turns and strides away, whistling as he checks his watch. He sighs as he approaches the office door, pausing, “when Odinson gets here, make sure he has everything he needs.” He glances back with a smirk as you peer around your monitor, “and smile, sweetheart, you got nice lips.” 

You stare after him as he closes his office door and you sit back. You chew your thumb and look down at your phone. You sniff as you watch the others messages stream over the screen. Now you know better than to have your phone out at work. Now you get to do overtime. Fun. 

You rub your cheek and roll close to your desk. You’re not going to miss tonight, even if Mr. Stark wants to take away your weekend. You’ve been waiting for this and you need the boost before you face whatever he has planned.  

A message blips up in the corner and you click it, not daring to ignore Mr. Stark’s icon. The window spreads over the screen and the message floats over the reply bar. ‘Don’t forget a bikini’. 

Huh? 

[yorsgirl]

𝐋𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬! 𝐂𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐚! 𝐒𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐥𝐬!

Ryomen Sukuna x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: On the foremost, you should have seen the red flags in yourself. Dropping this charade at the right time was the right decision. Yet, one look at his crimson tinted eyes and you found yourself wearing your rose colored glasses.

Tropes: Taboo relationship, explicit smut

Warnings: profanity, possessive themes, explicit smut, praise, light degradation, fingering, fellatio+handjob, semi public, unprotected, rough, hair pulling, nipple play, choking, undertones of - angst, attachment issues, insecurities, mentions of neglect, no curse AU, adultery, usage of nicknames, no mentions of y/n.

Word count: 4.4k

Divider credits: @cafekitsune

A/N: forgive me, I was supposed to complete something else but instead this had me on a chokehold. Nothing can stop me from writing smut with my king. Hope you enjoy <3

Your reflection stared back at you.

Although the skilled work of your makeup artist showed itself on your rather decked up mien, the very chance at being delighted by your appearance eluded you.

Never did you think that you'd tolerate cheating in your marriage. Yet, here you were - celebrating the anniversary with your husband.

A black tie gala and when he exited the penthouse with you, anyone could say he was indeed looking forward to it. The customized blue Armani suit looked gorgeous upon him. Although you made sure to pass a compliment to him on your way out, the same treatment wasn’t returned.

Of course, he wouldn’t.

What else did you expect?

From the looks of it, tonight would and should mark one of the greatest days of both of your lives. However, neither of you had the guts to confront the elephant in the room. So, once again the charade would have to play. The cover pages of Forbes and Financial times would certainly make this night, a talk of the town. He must be busy with preparations of that, obviously he held little concern over your whereabouts. If not, the scandal wouldn't have stretched on this far.

On what basis did you even think that this relationship would anywhere be successful? Of course it wouldn’t when on the fore front it was always meant to end in shambles.

Besides, sparing him a subtle glance only minutes ago had you clear out of all your doubts. Leaving you to realize two facts: 1 - you wouldn't had been surprised if he would have confessed to have simply forgotten about tonight. 2 - the very same husband had been transfixed by a woman which wasn't you.

With the workaholic of a man he was, it wouldn't astound you if he said that he needed to be away to look into urgent matters. It wouldn't astound you one bit if he just needed his PA to accompany him to that urgent matter. As a good, ideal wife, what did you do? Obviously, leave the room. No matter how long did you stretch the lengths of your restraint, certain glances could never be unseen. Even then, the sharp glares bestowed upon you by everyone in the room rendered you breathless. Rumours seldom held the truth. This instance it did. Almost everyone knew about the scandal, considering the affair wasn't so discreet after all. Evidently, all those glares told you that you were being a nuisance there.

You glanced at the girl again; beautiful. Obviously, she was trying to impress someone. And from the looks of it, from the tiny smirk shot her way, she knew she was successful. Honestly, you can't blame her. He was quite the man with the flames burning in his crimson eyes and that charismatic smirk which even had you put on your rose tinted glasses.

With all the reasons screaming at your face to leave the main venue; you did.

Hence, now, standing afore the basin in the women's room - you could finally let yourself be free.

The black dress clung to your body tenaciously and the red diamond pendant resting on the juncture of your collarbones seemingly did little to cure your case. The jewellery was certainly a gift. Currently, you found the giver of the same gift in the same room as you.

You sharply craned your neck to the side, "What are you doing here?"

A languid smirk rested upon the curve of Sukuna's lips as he leaned against the door of the restroom. "I could ask the same, doll. What are you doing here?"

"Should not be your concern," Reverting your attention back to the mirror, you pushed some fringes of hair before your ear. "I can be wherever I want."

On cue he pushed himself from the door, sauntering over to you. In the limited lapse of time, you sure did make out how the door had been locked shut from inside. Sukuna towered over you, one hand of his rested beside yours on the counter; his breath fanned over your neck, instinctively you tightened your grip on the cool tile.

“Sure, you can doll.” He whispered near your ear, lifting his hand to push the same tendril of hair behind your ear. “However, to me it seemed, you were waiting for someone.”

“Certainly,” You affirmed, shooting a pointed look up at him. Although the close proximity, you refrained from letting your eyes wander over his frame clad in the black Zegna suit which fit him almost perfectly. “I was waiting when my husband will notice that I’ve left his side and come looking for me.” He grasped your arm, forcibly turning you around, though the hold was firm – the venomous pressure was nowhere to be found. “But that’s too much to ask from him, now.”

“Really?” He raised an eyebrow in mock surprise. “What a bastard of a husband to leave such a pretty thing like you all alone.”

“Sukuna-”

“Still I am here,” The undertone in his voice was too loud to ignore. Besides, did you really want to?

You reached up, straightening his crooked tie like a dutiful wife. “I didn’t call you here.”

“Now, now doll-” A Cheshire grin slipped into his lips, free arm looping around your waist as he pulled you close. “Did you really think I wouldn’t notice how you looked at me there?”

It wasn’t clear cut lie; you did find your eyes wandering over to him even though you knew he would be up to no good. However, it was still funny. Funny how he took notice of it when all he seemed to be captivated by the other woman in the room. Did he think you wouldn’t find out or did he think that getting someone new would only make this charade all the more entertaining?

With the three of you present in the same only minutes ago, filled with family, friends, rivals and acquaintances, only a handful remained oblivious to the ongoing show. Now, with two of you gone, the few PR team members that lurked around the corner would certainly not pass up the opportunity to highlight this in the internet next day. Just how much they loved stirring the drama and how much the netizens loved consuming it.

You looked up at him from underneath your lashes, “Notice?” You scoffed with a bitter smile. “How laughable. The last time I checked you were rather pouring your attention on someone else, Mr. Ryomen.”

“Jealous?” He tipped his head forward, “And what if I was?”

“Nothing,” You let the strain of the situation reign in your two seconds of silence. “Enjoy your night. If you excuse me now-” You pinched your lips. “I have to call a friend to get me home, now.”

Like a chain reaction, it started.

First, Sukuna’s grasp on your waist tightened. The flicker of a vexation much akin to a match starting a forest fire, burnt in his eyes. “And who might this friend be? Someone I should be worried about?”

Second, with a soft graze of your thumb against his jaw, your question commenced. “Jealous?” A halt of five seconds settled down. Yet, you were more than eager to be the catalyst in this chemical reaction. “What if you should?”

Third, he threaded his fingers into your open hair; knotting the digits in your luscious strands. He tersely tugged them back, inciting a groan from you. Leaning down, his lips brushed against your own, “Then I just have to crush some pests for looking at my woman.”

Last, but certainly not the least – his lips locked onto yours.

Though the kiss was sudden, you found yourself fluttering your eyes shut as you delve into this passion only he can bring. You held his shoulder to bring the needed balance, the coarse fabric of his coat contrasted against your smooth palm. Sukuna angled your head to his comfort, nibbling on your bottom lip and once you give him access, he didn’t miss a second before pushing forth his warm tongue in your mouth. The spicy cologne of his mingled with the slight lime scent of the bathroom and with the way he worked on your mouth, your knees were weakening.

On the foremost, you knew you shouldn’t give in, you knew continuing a relationship built on lies would only end in shambles. Yet, when he pulled back – leaving you breathless for the first time tonight (and all the previous other nights), you again gazed into his red-tinted eyes. Ah! How stupid of you? Still, you found yourself putting on your rose coloured glasses.

“Aren’t you being too brave for your own good, doll? What gave you the fucking right to think of someone else when I am right here?” With delicate measures, he held your chin with his thumb and forefinger; sharp contrast to the, not so empty threat bespoken seconds ago. “Still, it wouldn’t stop me from teaching you a lesson, here and now.”

You raised an eyebrow, “Here and now?”

“Here and now.” With that, Sukuna’s lips crashed over yours once again.

His mouth ransacked over your own as he glided his hand over to your bottom and on your thighs to lift you up and place you over the countertop.  Now, on a levelled height with his, you didn’t hesitate from indulging more into the fiery exchange by tracing your manicured nails from his nape to his roseate strands. That surely did incite a groan from him and you could feel the smirk curving into your lips.

Despite the heated encounter, you were left pondering upon your thoughts. What was the point of staying in a marriage where the love given wasn’t the love reciprocated? However, with the way his moulded with yours so perfectly, all the guilty feelings just had to fade away.

Both of you parted once again, though Sukuna was a far from letting you take a moment’s rest. He latched onto your neck, leaving hot, open mouth kisses over your skin. A rather salacious moan erupted from you once he bit into the sensitive part of your skin. “Ah- you can’t do that.”

“I can do whatever the fuck I want. You are mine.” The guttural growl of his voice near your ear sent a pulse to your core. He tipped your face up to meet his eyes, “Say it, love. Who do you belong to?”

The diabolical possessiveness of his had always been so disastrous... as well desirous. What was it with him that something so wrong just felt so right? Although you knew you shouldn't give in to him, that this shouldn't continue any longer. Needed to tell him that you couldn't bear the neglect anymore, you knew we were way past thee point of return. As if a scripted play, you found yourself acting again. “You. Only you.”

For a second, his frame went rigid. The next, he was pushing your back against the mirror, hoisting up the longer end of your dress till it decked around your hips and pressing his calloused palm over the soft fabric of your panties. Ah. He sure knew what he wanted tonight and he was going to have it.

While his pupil was dilated with desire, he didn’t fail from passing a knowing smirk when he felt the dampened spot on the garment. “With the way you are wet for me, no one would believe anything else.”

Oh god…

You feigned innocence, “Do you want anyone else to know?” That obviously didn’t end well. Without warning, Sukuna peeled off the cloth and pushed two of his digits inside your slick folds. “Nghh- Sukuna-”

“Everyone already knows, love.” He murmured, lips hovering over the shell of your ear. “Everyone knows that you are mine.”

He curved his fingers inside your cunt, velvet walls clamping around him in a tightness which had his cock straining against his briefs. Scissoring his way through, he stretched you out into a V. Even then, he was ruthless, letting his thumb press over your swollen clit as the juices of your arousal flowed out of your folds. The torturous onslaught over your cunt surely was too much to handle; the barbaric, loud sounds of your moans mixed with curses were like music to his ears. “Ah- Ahh Su-Sukuna… f-fuck.”

“Shh, darling,” He hushed you with a chaste kiss on your parted lips. “You don’t want an audience, do you? But if you do-” He pinched on your clit and involuntarily, did you elicit a loud squeal. One enough to have caught the ears of anyone who might be lingering in the corridors. “I am more than ready to make all of your dreams come true.”

“N-No, ahh- no-none of those are- nghh- my dr-dreams.” You managed to stumble out the few words in your lust drunk state, gripping into his biceps to restrain this torment. Although the treacherous smirk rested upon him, you knew that he was more than serious. Knew that if given the chance, he wouldn’t shy away from indulging you into exhibitionism. One act which repelled you so much. Your image was already tarnished enough among the socialists and elites. Another spot at that and you would be crossing the line of no return. No way were you letting that happen. Or so you thought.

Despite the repugnance, one glance at the man before you, one touch of his skin against yours, one praise of his – calling you his good girl, fell on your parched ears, you just might let him. To imagine it was more the arousing as much as it was perilligious. While on the base level, the act itself repelled you so much when the fleshed out play conjured before your eyes, it was rather difficult to deny it. However, that was a thought for another day.

Sukuna reached his free hand over to the neckline of your dress, pulling it down – stretching it, ruining the material beyond repair and that was the least of your concern. All you wanted was him. His hands, his mouth, his touch. All of him. The cool air of the night hit your nipples, making them stand erect as the man indulged in like a predacious beast attaining his meal after days. He squeezed and kneaded your breast, while latching onto the other as he swirled his tongue over your hardened bud.

With all the added stimulation over your body, you were sent over the end. Your walls twitched around his fingers and you bit into your lips to stop the traitorous sounds, “Su-Sukuna… I- I am-”

“Not yet.”

“H-Huh?” You buckled your hips against his fingers, arching your back for he just mercilessly lessened his pace.

“You won’t cum until I say so,” He leaned back up fully to his original height, knuckles brushing against your cheekbone before they drop to your hips. “Do you get it, love?”

You snapped your eyes shut, toe curling up as the protest marked itself on your features, “Su-Sukuna, it-its…”

“Won’t you do it for me, love? Won’t you please me?” It was so damn painful to momentarily halt your climax when all you wanted was to let go. Yet, like clockwork, you nodded. “There’s my good girl,”

Words were funny. How did he just managed to get the flutter out of your chest with a single praise?

Sukuna again increased the pace of his fingers inside your cunt, curving and coiling them up to his wish and just enough to provide you with the needed pleasure. “Not yet,” He murmured, brushing circles over your clit. “Not yet,” He twisted the digits inside, hitting your sweet spot causing you to sink your nails over the hardened tile. He stretched his finger to the maximum, observing how your cunt throbbed while sucking in air and then he grinned. “Now.”

And like the night the string holding your sanity snapped, this wasn’t so different.

You spasmed around his digits, the climax washing over you like a thunderous wave hitting the shore. Eyes squeezed shut and a trail of drool running down your mouth, certainly you were a sight for his sore eyes. He pulled out his fingers from inside you, wiping it clean with the tissues on the rack as you came down from your high. Your bare chest heaved up and down while you inhaled the copious amount of air.

After you did and once your breathing was levelled, you were more than eager to return the return by yourself. So, when you sank down to your knees – Sukuna liked it a lot. Liked it more when you unzipped his pants, letting his cock spring out free and God… he was huge. The sheer girth and length was enough to put you into a moment of stupor. However, you broke out of it, ejected your spit on your hand, pumping his shaft to lubricate the length.

“Fuck- love, that’s hot.”

“Just returning the favour,” Said so, you placed a soft kiss over his tip before delving your mouth on its length. The salty taste of precum fell over your tongue – lapping it up, you swirled your tongue over the glans penis. Keeping your eyes on him, you forced more of his length into your mouth. Christ. The sheer girth of it stretched your mouth in a painful way yet that wasn’t your concern. For you were too much preoccupied with the throaty moans of Sukuna.

“Shit- you’re so good, lo- ahh- fuc-fuck, just like that.” He wrapped his fingers around the loose ends of your hair, pulling them in a ponytail as he guided you on his length.

His satisfaction rang in your ears and it pushed you further to make this experience hell of a memorable one. After all, when will be the next time this would happen? Or will it happen again? The overthinking was pushed out of your brain when you gagged on his cock – eyes fluttering shut as a tear prickled your eye. Recoiling soon after, you started to bob your head in the same rhythmic manner which he liked while you pumped the rest of his member. The way he grunts out your name again causes your cunt to throb with anticipation. Oh, how much you just wanted him to fill you up to the brim.

Trails of drool run down your lips to your chin and you pull your mouth back from his cock. A string of spit connected your glistening mouth to the tip and just from the sight of it, Sukuna could have climaxed then and there. “Ah- Fuck, doll… you’re doing this on purpose.”

“Hmm?” You hummed, not bothering to respond to that. Drunk on insatiable lust must have the courage take over. Cause the next thing you did was, pump your fist over his drool-coated cock with such a rhythm that had him throwing back his back. “Shoot your cum in my mouth.”

Despite the burning ache in his abdomen added to the stimulation and the sight of you on your knees, he still managed to keep up his cocky attitude. “Feeling bold today, are we? I wonder why…”

“Sukuna-” The warning this time was cleared out in your voice. “You know I can just leave you here and you will have to take care of this by yourself. Want that?”

“No.”

How easy was that? You smirked, darting out your tongue as you licked over the tip and took him in your mouth again. Sucking and lapping at his cock, the wanton grunts of his certainly contended you. You eagerly indulge him, coaxing him into the needful climax. His cock twitched inside your mouth. You knew, he was close. He knew, he was close.

Only a second later, he was shooting his cum inside your mouth.

You knew better than to let the aftertaste rest on your tongue. So when the copious amount of liquids started to pour in your throat, you were quick to gulp it down like a good girl. Once done, with the treatment, you let out his flaccid cock with a pop. A short trail of his ecstasy ran down your lips and Sukuna reached down to wipe extra liquid off your mouth.

“Fuck it, love.” He quivered out almost breathless. “How do you manage to be so beautiful always?”

You shrugged in a non-committal manner. “I don’t know, you tell me. A lot many people don’t think so.”

On instance, he grasped your arm, pulling you up from the floor. Holding you via the hips, he didn’t waste a second before locking his lips with yours again. However, unlike the first two times, this time, it was a lot softer. A tender gesture shutting you up from all the self-depreciating words, you must have been telling yourself.

Parting a hair’s breadth away, he muttered, “You should know by now that I am not most people.”

You snickered with a sour smile, “I know.”

With that, this time it was you initiating the kiss. You pulled him closer, holding his collar, it felt almost humorous how he still had his clothes on while yours were sliding off your body. The last thing you wanted were words o affirmations about the situation. It’s a distraction. You told yourself. All of it to keep your mind off the true matter at hand; Veiling the truths of a neglectful husband who was repulsed by his wife. You didn’t keep the previous tender tempo, instead engaging in a lascivious dance with his tongue, beckoning back the lustful desire that garnered the both of you.

Of course, it worked.

Of course, the roughness of his actions returned.

Of course, he was feasting upon your mouth as he stepped up and your buttocks hit the counter again.

Only a second later, Sukuna was flipping you on your back – assisting you into his favourite position. Both of you stared back at the reflection of the erotogenic position with your ass lined up with his crotch. Both of you shared the same mind – you nodded and he followed up with shoving his cock in your needy folds. He hit you till the brim, fleshy walls clamping around his member tenaciously, coaxing him to build up another climax.

“Doll, ahh- fuck! You just keep g-getting better- nghh- everytime, ahh-” He groaned from above you, his pelvix smacking against your ass as he continued to fill you up and pull out, just till the tip and inside again. “Fuc-Fuck! Did no one fu-fuck you this time round?”

“N-No.”

“Good,” He struck a rough hand over your ass cheek. “This cunt’s fucking mine.”

He increased the pace of his thrusts, giving you just enough. Just how much you wanted. Needed. And only this experience would ever count. His cock hit till your cervix and you arched your back, tears running down your cheeks. You muffled your whiny screams by pressing your face down on the cool tile. Obviously, he didn’t like it. Not one bit. The next second, he was pulling your head up gripping onto your hair strands as he jerked you face to meet the mirror. Your makeup was barely intact with the eyeliner smudged and the lipstick smeared over.

“Sh-Shit, Sukuna… ahh- to-too fast! Nghh-“

“Keep your eyes on me as I fuck you like a good little slut,” Tugging both of your hands back, he used them as a leverage to keep you up.

Now, with your cheek pressed against the mirror, you were forced to witness this unmaking. To keep his words, you did keep your eyes on him – meeting the burning lust filled irises. The diamond neck around your neck swayed in the air as he kept on shoving in-and-out of you.

“Damn it, I knew this would look good on you.” He traced his fingers over the jewel before his hand clamped around your neck – restricting the air supply. He was ruthless in this session tonight and it showed. Was it due to the fact that you were wearing the jewellery he bought you that sparked the need to claim you as his once again? Or was it because you had been bolder in your statements than usual?  

Your lips parted as you tried to take in as much air as he would allow. Pulling you back, Sukuna let your back rest against his hard chest, still drilling into your hole. While you were on the brink of letting go with the pleasure, pushing you over the edge, he was mindful to keep his eyes trained on you. You. Not the reflection. The real you. He watched the rapid rise and fall of your chest as he deepened his thrusts. He watched how your eyes rolled back as he worked you into your second orgasm for the night. He watched how you gripped onto his elbow for support when you milked him dry.

An amalgam of emotions passed through his eyes while you were fixed on the daze of your after your climax. All of it flickering to none when he saw you gaining sense. And after a few thrusts, he finished himself inside you.

The next few minutes were a passage of silence. A silence which if used properly would clear up so much things between the two of you. Yet, with the room reeking of recent sex and the sheen of sweat covering both of your bodies, both of you knew this confrontation wouldn’t happen soon enough.

“What now?” You questioned, choosing to be the mature one amongst the two.

“What now?” You hummed in affirmation and Sukuna found himself, trying to conjure up the proper response for this situation.

Whoever it was, that said – more than the event, the aftermath mattered – were certainly wise. For you and Sukuna, the aftermath would never be fruitful. An unspoken fact both of you could agree upon. Yet, was it just too wrong to let this charade continue for a little long?

“What do you suggest?” He gazed down on you, a softer tone coating his words as he pushed off the matted hairs from your face. “What do you want to do?”

“Mhm, well-” You slightly rotated your neck towards him. “Its my anniversary, after all. I don’t want to be alone.”

“Oh, you won’t be alone,” He helped you get down from the counter, fixing the neckline of the dress to cover your skin as much as it would offer. “What say, want to get out of here?”

With a know-it-all smile and the thrill of peril daunting over, you answered him.

Meeting his lips for only a second. “Yes.”

___

CBN @/cybernetizens ◦ 3h ago

Wife of Satoru Gojo, have been spotted to leave company’s thirtieth anniversary with business rival Sukuna Ryomen in a scandalous outfit.

9.2k likes | 5.8k comments | 4.5k retweets

-

Buzz @/buzzfeed ◦ 5h ago

New image of Mrs. Gojo with Sukuna Ryomen in indecent outfit and appearance leaves netizens shocked!

2.2k likes | 1.7k comments | 0.6k retweets

-

GJNewz @/generaljapannewz ◦ 10h ago

Elitist and wife of Satoru Gojo spotted to have entered Hotel de Elysium with Sukuna Ryomen. Is this a public statement to announce divorce against husband?

5.6k likes | 2.1k comments | 1.3k retweets

[plussizeficchick]

Taste of Heaven | Sugar Daddy!Gojo x Bimboish! Chubby Reader

Warnings: (Smut; oral, fingering, vibrator, light impact play, ‘toru’s a bit mean in this one)

Gojo loves your smile.

He loves the way your cute, chubby cheeks lift. How he can actually see stars in your eyes when your lips curve upwards.

It really doesn’t take much.

New Jimmy Choos here, Telfars different colors and sizes there. He barely made a dent in his pocket yet you thought he was spoiling you.

He hadn’t even begun to scratch the surface of spoiling you.

How you met was of pure chance. Gojo felt there was something, someone lacking from his life. He had all this wealth, yet no one to share it with. As he was browsing through the various expensive clothes in front of him, he hadn’t bothered to pay attention and bumped into you. You were trying to decide which mini skirt would go with your bubblegum pink top. “Oof- Hey, Mister? Which do you think is cuter, light blue or dark?” Satoru almost didn’t catch your question because he was too busy gaping in awe.

The only way to describe you was angelic. Gorgeous eyes that he could already feel himself getting lost in, pouty, plump lips that he could only imagine felt like pillows, cute, pudgy tummy that complimented your bodycon dress deliciously.

Pure heaven.

He let out an awkward cough before answering, “Why not both?” You let out a soft giggle, “I can’t get both, silly! I’m already buying a bunch of stuff.” Satoru smiles, peeking over his shades, “That’s not a problem, Angel.”

— —

“Are you sure about this, ‘Toru?” You murmured, glassy eyes staring back into light blue ones. He gave you a loving squeeze as a smirk made its way to his face, his tongue peeking out to wet his lips. “Of course, Angel. Has daddy ever been wrong?” You shake your head, pressing a brief peck to his lips before moving to check yourself in the mirror again, Satoru raking his eyes up and down your figure.

You looked great, you always do. Satoru decided to splurge, once again, treating you to a shopping spree and now dinner. You decided to wear one of the many Armani gowns that you’d bought, though this one hugged your curves impeccably. You paired it with your sleek black Louboutin heels, which made your thighs look even more yummy than they already do, and Satoru can already feel himself getting hard. But he can’t get ahead of himself.

You’ve got a cute baby blue vibrator nestled in your cunt just begging to be tested out.

So for now, he’ll put his desires aside and sit through dinner.

— —

You’d made it as far as the door before both you and Satoru lost your patience.

He pressed you up against the door, his tongue swirling in tandem with yours as he hoists you up. You wrap your legs around his waist, soft whimpers spilling from your lips. “On. Turn it on, ‘Toru.” You whine against his lips. He abruptly pulls away from your lips, pushing you back as you chase after him. He delivers a slap to your cheek, not enough to hurt, but enough to know he means business. “Since when did you start telling daddy what to do?” He says, carrying you over to your couch. He takes his time peeling away at your clothes, leaving you bare while he remains fully clothed. A shiver runs down your spine as he lays you across his lap, kneading your ass cheeks. “Seems like someone needs to be reminded of their place.” He muttered before reeling his hand back and delivering a harsh slap to your ass. You whine at the pain, but your cunt clenches at the slight pleasure that comes afterward. “You’re my cocksleeve, love. A dirty. Fucking. Slut.” He says, delivering a slap between each pause. Your body shifts as he spanks you, and it doesn’t take long before he realizes what you’re trying to do.

He grabs a handful of your hair, pulling you up so you can really hear him. “I see you trying to get off on my thigh, fucking slut. Since you wanna cum so bad, I’ll let you cum, but you’re gonna cum for me all. Fucking. Night.” He sits you up so that you’re straddling him before he reaches for his phone. He taps his chin, almost as if he’s in thought. “Hmm, should I make you work for it, or should I just put it on the highest setting?” He contemplates, though he already knows his answer. He turns it on the highest setting and you yelp, startled by the intense vibrations in your cunt. “How about both?” He smirks, snaking a hand down to rub at your sensitive clit. “You’re gonna make me cum, Angel. You’re gonna make daddy feel good then he’s gonna make you feel even better. How’s that sound?”

You try to whine out an answer, but the thrumming of the vibrator in your cunt is just too intense. You’re taken aback when Satoru delivers another slap to your cheek, gripping your chubby cheeks between his fingers. “Answer me.” He grumbles, flicking your clit with his middle and forefinger. “Good! Sounds good, daddy. Please!” You whine. You’re so close! “Cum, Princess. Cum for daddy.” He grunts into your mouth as he presses a hot kiss to your swollen lips. You whine as your orgasm washes over you, your body practically conditioned to cum at his command.

He lowers the speed as you come down from your high, though doesn’t completely turn it off. He takes to lowering his pants before giving you a quick kiss. “Make daddy feel good, yeah?” You nod, lowering yourself so that you're faced with his cock.

You run your tongue along the veins of his cock, before lapping up with drops of pre oozing from the tip. You moan at the taste and Satoru takes that as invitation to grip your hair, forcing you to take more of him in your mouth. “That’s it, pretty. Suck that fucking cock.” He orders and well, you’ve always been a submissive little thing.

You swallow more of his length, crystalline tears building up in your eyes, and Satoru thinks you just look so gorgeous with his cock stuffed down your throat, your cute chubby cheeks just waiting to be stuffed with cum. It’s with that thought he starts to feel his climax building and when you notice the slight jerk in his legs, you take to fondling his balls, knowing that’s just what he needs to push him over the edge.

Satoru cums with a shout, thrusting deep inside your mouth as his seed slides down your throat. You hum at the taste, savoring his flavor.

He pulls you up by your chin and plants a sloppy kiss to your lips, groaning at the taste of him in your mouth. “Fuck, Angel. Let daddy taste you, hm?” You nod, eager to cum again.

Satoru slowly makes his way down your body, pressing wet kisses and nipping at the soft skin along the way. He shuts the vibrator off and carefully removes it from your cunt. You hiss at the feeling but he soothes you by laving his tongue over it, paying special attention to your clit. You whine, running your hands through his hair and giving a slight tug at the root. He grunts before sucking on your clit and flicking his tongue over the bundle of nerves.

It doesn’t take long before your hips start bucking against his face, chasing your orgasm for the second time that night. “Gonna cum for me, pretty? Gonna cum for daddy?” You nod, breath getting caught in your throat. Satoru speeds up his movements, moving to press two fingers into your cunt. “Cum for daddy, Angel. Make a mess f’me.” You barely manage to make out his name as you cum, cunt spasming around his fingers as he milks your orgasm for all its worth.

He trails soft kisses along your body once more before planting a sweet kiss to your lips. He hums against your lips, content being so close to you. He pulls away slightly to look you in your eyes. “Want more, daddy.” You say, grinding your cunt against his steadily growing cock.

He can never say no to his Angel.

— —

Taglist: @xogabbiexo @kinq-sleazee @dabilovesme @sintiva @blkchxrryblyss @tenyaiidasslut @luna-indigoduh @bookwormsenpai @bl--ankhaeji @thicksimpx @namjoonswifeyy @nasty-quillz @haikyutiehoe @musicisme333 @unsatisfiedanddisappointed @celi-xxmoon

[crimson-and-clover-1717]

From the moment Ed lands on the Revenge, I think Stede stops thinking of the Captain’s quarters, and the ship really, as ‘his’ and begins thinking of it as ‘ours.’* Ed’s wearing Stede’s clothes within hours. By morning, Stede’s sharing his marmalade stash. Ed borrows Stede’s clothes for the French party, is invited into his bednook to watch the fuckery. Ed uses the bathroom as a safe space covered by Stede’s battle jacket. Lounges on the chaise longer. Nighttime brandies, sumptuous shared breakfasts.

Ed might initially covet Stede’s stuff entirely for himself, but that changes very quickly. He wants to share this way of life Stede’s got going here. The way they fall into such easy domesticity makes what happens next all the more heartbreaking.

Izzy claims that Ed’s decision to throw out Stede’s stuff is because he doesn’t want ‘Stede’s old dross.’ But I don’t think that’s Ed’s motivation at all. It’s his old dross too. Symbolically the stuff thrown out represented their life together on the Revenge.

This isn’t a jilted spouse cutting up Armani suits out of spite, because I don’t think Ed believes Stede will ever see the results. Ed is quite clear: he now thinks Stede is a dilettante when it comes to the Revenge, piracy, and himself. He calls the crew abandoned on the sandbank ‘Bonnet’s playthings’. The line ‘on to the next’ is ambiguous in that it is referring to Ed ‘moving on’ (sure, Ed), but also Stede, who is no doubt ‘on to the next’ plaything.

Furthermore, during the 204 couch scene, Ed tells Stede he was a ‘whim’, like his wife and ‘toy unicorn boat.’ So in 1.10, Ed likely thinks Stede’s left for good.

As things often are with Ed, the ridding of Stede’s possessions is an act of self-harm. He is throwing out his dream of a life with Stede, his belief he can have fine things; destroying all softness, possibly almost as an act of penance, a castigation, for being so fucking stupid - such a ‘fucking idiot’.

It’s shame-driven. Ed’s so embarrassed he thought it was real. And the crew know. They all know Stede left him. And they all now know that Ed is worthless like he always knew he was. And they saw him soft and broken on deck - they saw ‘Edward’. But he can’t be Edward. It’s not safe.

Maybe if Ed can throw out all of these objects, he can convince himself and everyone else it never really happened. That life was always grim and relentless. That he was always a scary, Viking vampire clown. He can eradicate the dream of something other…

After all, Stede Bonnet was too good for him.

Just a mirage.

A pipe-dream…

*technically they’ve been invaded so the ship is Ed’s, but he never treats it as such, and always recognises Stede as captain.

[lumosinlove]

Day three of @oknutzy-week-2024 !!

On The Line

Part Two

Logan took his time getting dressed. Finn was no where to be found. Maybe he knew just as keenly that if he entered their suite, there was no way they were going to leave on time.

The thrum of the want between them, the ache that was always there, had reached a summery sort of fever. Logan hadn’t stopped sweating with it. He could see a thin sheen across his nose and cheeks—which were flushed. He looked at himself in the mirror as he did up his tie and smiled a little, shaking his head.

Was he really going to get everything he wanted this year? Winning at home and—

Finn. For the first time. Finally.

There was a knock at his door and Logan had to cover his mouth for a moment, his pulse jumped so hard. It was Finn. No one else knocked like that. Bum-bum-ba-bum. Logan put a hand against the wardrobe and closed his eyes. He had to calm down. High off the win, high off Finn…

“Hel-lo?” Finn called. “I’m looking for Logan Tremblay the famous—what was it? Baseball player? Hockey? Oh, that’s right, ten-nis.”

“Coming,” Logan gasped out, laughing. His voice sounded strange to himself. “I…” He swallowed. He looked at himself again.

He looked good. Really good. But when he opened the door, Finn made him want to die. He hadn’t changed yet—had probably been giving Logan space by charming the pants off his parents and sisters. He was just in a t-shirt and shorts, but Logan had kissed him now and it was like he was glowing. The way he was smiling at him. Logan’s mouth went entirely dry.

“Let me guess,” Finn said. He stepped inside, letting the door swing shut and making Logan back up until they were chest to chest. “Armani suit, night-forest green is what they call it. A subtle velvet lapel and a black satin tie. And the trousers…well, look at those thighs. They’re custom made.” Finn arched a brow. “Am I right?”

“You picked it all for me,” Logan said.

“Oh.” Finn grinned. “That’s right.”

“You look really good,” Logan said softly.

Finn made that face he did—that smile-frown—and looked down at his sweaty clothes from the match.

“I think that was my line,” he said.

Logan just blinked at him.

“But thank you,” Finn said softly. His eyes flicked down to Logan’s mouth. “I have to change.” He looked at something behind Logan. “You didn’t pop your champagne. The ice is going to melt.”

“Why would I do that without you?”

“So…You’re scared of the cork.”

“Ouais.”

Finn slipped past him, and when he untwisted the wire and wrapped his hands around the champagne bottle, Logan understood that he was being teased.

“Finn—”

Pop. It smoked but didn’t overflow. Finn poured Logan a glass and brought it over to him. When Logan just stared at him, he brought the glass to his own mouth, took a sip, and then held it to Logan’s.

“Go ahead, champion.” Logan drank. Finn put the glass in his hand. “Finish that. I’ll be ten minutes.”

“Twenty,” Logan said faintly, and Finn sent him one last smile over his shoulder before shutting the bathroom door.

~

People were definitely trying to talk to Logan and Logan definitely kept losing track of what they were saying. Finn was in a navy suit. A black tie. He was wearing one of Logan’s watches and holding a glass of whiskey and ice that was sweating and sending droplets down his wrist. Logan wasn’t trying to be rude, he just had to excuse himself to get a drink or else he was going to drag Finn out of the party.

“Rum and coke,” he said.

“Yes, sir,” the bartender said in French. “And congratulations.”

“Merci.” Logan smiled.

“That was an amazing match,” said another voice.

Logan looked up at the bartender, thinking he’d spoken again and wondering why his accent had changed. It had been French but…odd French. Besides, the bartender was at the other end of the bar, cutting up a fresh lime.

“Hi.” Leo Knut leaned against the bar at Logan’s left with those blue eyes and—dimples. Logan hadn’t noticed those before.

“You speak French,” Logan said in English. “Strange French.”

Leo laughed. “If you say so. And you’re welcome, by the way.”

“What?” Logan looked up at him. He wasn’t wearing a jacket—it must have been draped over a chair somewhere—and the sleeves of a white button-down were rolled up to his elbows. His hands were huge and Logan caught himself before he stared too long. He knew how fast a serve they could create, how powerful a stroke. “Oh. Thank you.”

Leo nodded, looking out towards the crowd. Logan did the same and caught Finn watching him. Be nice his eyes seemed to say. The bartender brought Logan his drink and he took a long, much needed sip.

“Sorry about your run,” Logan offered. He was blushing again, why was he blushing? “Archer’s a fucking baby.”

Jack Archer had beat Leo and been a complete fuck about it. Holding his hands up to his ears for the crowd, holding his racket and miming playing a violin, like he was some kind of master. At least some of the crowd had been in the right mind to boo him.

Leo laughed and took a sip of his drink. “Oh, you got that right. For sure.”

“You used to train together, didn’t you?”

“Yeah,” Leo said. “Before I discovered that he was a fucking baby.”

“Lo,” Finn said, appearing at Logan’s side. He smiled briefly at Leo. “Your sisters are looking for you. Hey, Leo. I’m Finn. Thanks for the waffle.”

Now Leo was definitely blushing. Logan pressed minutely closer to Finn.

“Hi…Um. I’m a big fan,” Leo said, eyes flicking to Logan. “And, yeah, that definitely wasn’t my finest moment.”

“No, it was delicious. Send me some syrup next time—well actually…” He wrapped an arm around Logan’s shoulders. “He’s the sweet tooth.”

Logan shrugged. “Ouais.”

Leo laughed. “I saw you at breakfast have some coffee with your sugar.”

“Hey.” Logan ducked his head to play with his straw. “I’m a champion.”

“Can’t argue with that.” Leo raised his glass to Logan and Logan clinked it against his. Logan couldn’t help but laugh a little, too. It was so like Finn to break the ice like this. People came so easily to him and it impressed Logan every time.

“Well…” Leo hesitated. “Yeah. I just wanted to say congrats.” He looked between them. “Will I see you at Wimbledon?”

It took Logan a moment to realize Leo was asking both of them. He watched Finn realize it, too. Maybe the coach rumors were more widespread than Logan had known.

Oh,” Finn began and looked at Logan. He was obviously asking Logan and trying to be subtle about it.

As if Logan could go a single moment without Finn at his side. As if he wasn’t already planning to take Finn back to his house in Nice until Wimbledon started. As if he would go anywhere with Finn. As if he hadn’t already started looking up apartments in New York City because that was Finn’s home and that’s where Logan would go if Finn wanted it. Because this had to be equal. This had to be equal. A partnership.

“Ouais,” Logan said. “You will.”

Talking. Congratulations. Thank you. Yes, Wimbledon. Shaking hands. This is my mother and father. Yes, so proud. Are you the coach? Oh. Finn, bashful. I’m a friend. Helping out.

So far from the truth. There was that condensation droplet, tracking down his wrist, disappearing into the cuff of his suit. The curve of his throat. Finn, who could talk to anyone. Finn, who was looking at him. With a slightly raised eyebrow.

Logan blinked and looked away from him, at the circle of people.

A woman—what was her name?—was looking at him with expectance that was turning awkward.

“I’m so sorry,” Logan said. “I…”

Finn grinned and clapped a hand on Logan’s shoulder. “Got a tired champion on our hands.”

The woman laughed, the awkwardness fading.

“I only asked,” she said. “What you might be planning for your time off?”

They escaped to the hallway at one in the morning. Goodbyes. Good nights. Congratulations. Thank you. Thank youThank youThank you—

Logan began walking towards the elevator quickly. If one more person stopped him he would—

Finn caught up to him just as he turned into an empty hallway of heavily curtain windows. The wrong way, he’d gone the wrong way, but it didn’t matter, and Logan let out a small sound when Finn’s hands caught his hips and pressed him up against one of the windows. They disappeared in the curtains and Logan could hear nothing but Finn’s breathing, smell nothing but Finn, whiskey, and velvet.

His world narrowed down to Finn’s voice and and those brown eyes.

“What have you been doing all night?” Finn whispered. “Ignoring your admirers.”

“I need you,” Logan’s voice shook. He put his hands on Finn’s chest. “Finn, please. Please—”

Finn pressed their foreheads together and Logan felt Finn’s breathing jump. He was just as desperate. Logan’s fingers closed around the lapel of his jacket.

Finn's hands smoothed down Logan’s hips to his ass. Logan could only pant, head tilted forward against Finn’s shoulder, and hold onto him. Like the clay, Logan wanted to roll around in everything that was Finn. He wanted to be covered.

There was a smile in Finn’s voice when he spoke again. “Lo.”

And then Finn was finally kissing him. Logan let himself be pressed against the window, lost in the thick folds in the curtain, and pinned by Finn’s hands.

Aren’t you lonely? Finn had asked him.

He had been. God, so lonely he thought he would die. But not now. Logan threw his arms around Finn’s neck.

“Finn. Up—the room.”

Finn kissed him again, then pressed his forehead to Logan’s temple, breathing hard. They stayed like that.

“God…” Finn whispered. Like he couldn’t help it, he gently cupped Logan’s chin and kissed him again, again, again. Soft things, like sips of water, of whiskey, like he couldn’t stop. The teasing temper was gone.

Logan smoothed his hands through Finn’s hair, stole four more kisses, and then pulled back to look at Finn’s closed eyes. He kissed one lilac eyelid, then the other.

“Come with me,” Logan said. His hands trailed down to Finn’s and he held them fast. “Come.”

Logan took Finn’s hand in his and pulled them from their secret folds of velvet—and face to face with Leo. Finn stumbled and pressed himself up to Logan’s back. He began kissing Logan’s neck, as if that’s why Logan had stopped. Logan’s hand went to his neck as if that would stop him. It only encouraged him.

“Oh,” came out of Leo’s mouth, soft and breathy.

Finn looked right up. His hands tightened on Logan’s hips.

Leo took a step back. Another. His blue eyes were wide, surprised…And then he seemed to settle. His shoulders relaxed. He put his hands in his pockets. He gave them a smile so slight that Logan wasn’t even sure it was a smile. He inclined his head, just a little, and turned, disappearing back down the hall.

Finn’s breath washed across Logan’s neck. “Lo?”

“C’est bon,” Logan whispered. He turned in Finn’s arms, looking up at him. “It’s…It’s okay.”

He didn’t know how he knew, but he knew. Leo Knut might be his opponent, but he wasn’t his enemy.

Logan wasn’t sure, with Finn in his arms, that he had enemies. At least none that mattered.

The suite could have been a cell. It could have been underwater. It could have been not their room, it could have been a different hotel, a different planet. The heavy door slammed, locked, and Finn was against him again.

Logan was more careful when it came time to lay Finn out on the bed. He removed his clothes. No more need for satin or velvet or forest greens and navy. He wanted Finn’s pale ribs and lean, strong arms and narrow waist that Logan had to stop and put his mouth on. He kissed the pink scar on Finn’s knee, the soft skin of his inner thigh.

“You have no freckles here,” Logan whispered. “Only here.”

Finn looked down at him from the pillows, breathing hard. “I—I know.”

Logan brushed his mouth over the skin. He felt the muscle jump beneath his lips.

“Should I put something here?” Logan smiled. “Ouais, I think so.”

“You have to come here,” Finn said. “I’m going to die, you—come here.”

Logan went. How could he not? He sat back on his heels and began unbuttoning his shirt. Finn sat up and reached forward for Logan’s belt, but he got distracted and ended up kissing Logan until they both tumbled against the bed again, Logan’s shirt hanging loose. God, his kisses. Logan wanted more and closer.

“I’ve wanted you,” Finn said, words dragging when he was unwilling to break the kiss. “Lo, you have no idea—”

“Yes, I do,” Logan countered. “Yes I fucking do, you—I…You think I—Finn.” Logan kissed him so hard he felt their teeth knock. It startled a little laugh out of Finn and Logan kissed that, too. “I want…”

Logan pulled back to look at him. “I want you more than anything.” He put a hand against Finn’s hot cheek. “I want…I want to play cards with you, I want you to yell at me on runs, I want…”

How did he begin? How did he use words to make Finn understand?

But this was Finn. Finn who Logan knew understood him like no one else. He held Logan close to him, pressing until Logan let all of his weight go on top of him.

“Forget about my knee,” Finn said. “Say I was still playing and I was good. Winning and everything.” He reached forward and curled a lock of Logan’s hair around his finger. “If someone said to me, ‘Finn, you have to choose. You only get one thing that you really want in your life. What do you choose?’”

Logan tried to disguise his sharp intake of breath.

“You know what I’d choose?” Finn whispered softly. He was already smiling. “You,” Finn said. Then he leaned forward and kissed Logan’s forehead. “You.” He kissed Logan’s closed eyes, his cheek. “You.” His jaw, and his neck. “You.”

Aren’t you lonely?

“Logan, I love you.”

Logan wrapped him up, he let Finn ease his shirt from his shoulders, and couldn’t help his tearful laugh.

“I love you,” Logan said. “I love you…”

They fell together.

The sun of their sport was in Finn’s hands. Logan’s heart rushed like a win and he couldn’t keep quiet. Some accused him of never shutting up on the court—Finn inspired it. He coaxed sounds from Logan until Logan threw his head back. He didn’t care who heard him. He had Finn O’Hara. He had Finn O’Hara, he’d won.

Finn was no better. When Finn eased Logan down on his knees and forearms, Logan hoped his hips would be bruised by Finn’s grip on them. He hoped his neck and shoulders would hold the marks of Finn’s teeth forever. When the sun began to rise and Finn put Logan on his back and hitched Logan’s thighs around his hips, he fingers knotted in Finn’s hair, the other hand snapping to grip Finn’s ass. Finn ignited something vibrant inside him, raw and bright.

“I’m—” Logan tried to say. His thighs splayed over Finn’s hips now, his hands firm on Finn’s chest. He felt Finn’s palms round over his waist and everything in him melted. Finn tilted his head up to see his face. The grin Logan received looked blissed out, nearly drugged.

“Lo.” Finn’s mouth dropped open at the drag of Logan’s nails over his chest. Warmth. Sun in his veins. Logan bent and pressed his face into Finn’s neck. He smelled the traces of sunscreen and earthy clay, and let himself shake apart.

When the sky was pink, Logan got some ice for Finn’s knee, just in case, and Finn laughed at him. He brought them water and called room service to bring them two chocolate sundaes even though it was six in the morning. One melted while Finn fed Logan spoonfuls of chocolate covered vanilla, before kissing tastes for himself.

“I want you to stay,” Logan said.

Finn smiled. “Where would I go? Look at me.”

Logan took a moment to actually do so. Sweat cooling, hair a wreck. Logan touched a scratch on Finn’s shoulder, mumbled something about healing ointment, but Finn put a hand over it protectively.

“Stop, I like them.”

Logan pushed his face into his neck. “Well, non, I wouldn’t let you out looking like this.” Logan accepted another bite of ice cream. “But I didn’t mean that. I meant…”

Finn was looking at him so—hopefully. Logan felt himself blush—Finn laughed at that, too.

“Your blushing.” He kissed the heated skin and dropped his voice to a playful whisper. “I don’t think you need to blush with me.”

“Shut up,” Logan said, and kissed him to prove it. “Listen.”

“I’m listening.” Finn put the ice cream aside. “I’m listening.”

“I know—in the hospital, you said you might want someone separate from this life, but I—” Logan cut off again and sighed, laughing bit at himself. “Okay, there are two parts to what I want. You can say yes to only one or both. Or—or none, I guess—”

Finn rolled so they were even closer, so he was propped on a forearm and leaning over Logan, now on his back. Finn brushed his nose against Logan’s. He trailed his fingers up Logan’s chest. “Ask me.”

Logan swallowed. He sort of wished Finn would do what he always did and just know. But he’d also been holding in the words for so long that he needed to say them before they burned him up.

“I want you,” Logan said. “I want to be…I want us. Do you…”

Finn sort of fell against him. It wasn’t a kiss, though Logan’s bottom lip was pulled between Finn’s teeth.

“Yes,” Finn whispered, and then it was a kiss, a kiss like the one in the locker room. Hard. Sealing a fate. “Yes…”

“Again,” Logan heard himself say—embarrassing.

Finn tilted his head back and laughed, but Logan grabbed his shoulder and he was back, sharp teeth biting gently into Logan’s bottom lip, and then dipping to scrape against his neck. For a moment, Logan lay there with his eyes closed, feeling Finn’s teeth work his skin up into a bruise.

“Ask me the other part,” Finn said.

Logan settled his hands on Finn’s waist. “I’ve never loved this game so much as when I’m going through it with you.”

Brown eyes on him again. “Ask me.”

“These past few months, even when it was just over the phone—” Finn kissed Logan’s words and Logan held him tighter. “Watching tape, morning practices. I even like running when you’re there.”

Finn smiled and kissed the corner of his mouth, but stayed quiet.

“And I understand my opponents in ways I never did before. In your ways.”

“Ask, Lo.”

“I don’t even want this from you because I want to win everything,” Logan whispered. “I just want to spend every second of my day with you.”

“Ask.”

“There are rumors that you’re my coach.”

“And that we’re dating.” Finn smiled. “I think we’ve been dating for months now… So ask.”

“Let’s make them all true,” Logan said. “Be my coach and—and mine. Be mine.”

Finn studied him with soft, brown eyes. Logan could feel his happiness in his bones.

“Yes,” Finn said, then laughed, tearful. “Yes.”

Logan tugged until Finn rolled his weight to settle over him. Logan clutched at his back, turning his face until their mouths found each other again.

~

It was nice, winning Paris and being able to go home. Really home. Surprisingly, the house he kept in LA usually felt just as homelike, but there was something different about being able to go anywhere and having it be French that surrounded him, not English.

And there was something different about bringing Finn home…Finn. His coach.

His.

Finn did the same thing he did in the hotel suites. Walked around, took his time, touched things. Except this time it was Logan’s rooms, not some sterile hotel that Logan just happened to be in. He dropped his bags at the door and looked around the stone house with richly patterned terracotta tiled floors. The far wall was all windows with a patio that overlooked the cliffside and the sea far down below—and where Logan had both hard and clay surfaced courts with the same sea view. Finn leaned in to look at his photographs on the wall. His first wins. Him and his sisters. Finn smiled and touched the glass of one where a baby Logan was being squished nearly to death by the grinning little girls.

He turned back to the center of the living room and looked up at the high, vaulted ceilings where skylights let in more light. The open kitchen, only a massive stone island separating the living room and the appliances. A hallway leading down towards the bedrooms and…

“It’s gorgeous,” Finn said softly. He went to the balcony and slid open the glass door a little. Immediate, the sea whipped its salt and sun into the room, ruffling Finn’s red hair.

It was a good house. Logan had always thought so. But now it was gorgeous. With Finn’s socked feet and Finn’s bags by the door. Finn’s plane sweatshirt draped over the white, massive couch.

“Come here,” Logan said, holding out his hand. “I have a present.” Finn’s eyes dropped down Logan’s body and the entirety of it warmed. “Not me.”

“Then I’m spoiled,” Finn said, but followed.

It was a bit of work, walking Finn past the master bedroom’s door, but Logan had a goal. It had involved planning ahead, calls with his grounds keeper, Luna. Logan had only seen pictures, but he knew it would be perfect.

They came to the short ladder first. Logan touched the smooth, dark grain. Exactly as he had imagined it. He turned back to see Finn already staring upward, towards the still hidden, small loft space above that had replaced what had once been a bedroom.

“I never knew what to do with this room,” Logan said. “I didn’t need an office. I didn’t need a fifth bedroom. So…So I tore it down and made it this. It’s for you.”

Finn stared at him. “What do…What do you mean you made this?”

“I knew what I wanted,” Logan said. “I knew what you’d want.”

Finn was still staring at him. He already looked good from the salt air.

“You made this…for me?”

Logan just stepped away from the ladder and let Finn go up first. When Finn was a few rungs up, high enough to see what lay atop, he stopped.

Logan put a hand on his calve. “Your knee. Is it—”

“It’s fine,” Finn said softly. He was gazing around the space. “It’s…oh wow, Lo.”

A pleased little shiver ran up Logan’s spine and he followed Finn halfway up the ladder, enough to rest his arms on the floor but give Finn the space to himself. Finn looked at the cushy white chaise, the pillows and blankets. He flicked on the warm glow of the reading lamp, then off again. Finn touched the empty shelves, then the single filled one.

“These…These are what I’ve been…” He turned to Logan, wide-eyed. “Did you, like, take notes?”

“I like to know your game. That includes books you wanted,” Logan said. He took a breath. “You said that, as a player, you wanted a partner to feel like your equal. Mais…I’m the player. I want it to feel equal, too.” He pulled himself up another rung on the ladder. “Do you like it?”

Finn let out a watery laugh. He put a hand to his chest as he brown eyes filled. He shook his head in disbelief and looked up at the skylight. The waiting shelves. The soft, low chaise that he could stretch his injured knee out in. “Baby…” He sank down onto the chaise and covered his mouth with steepled fingers.

Logan climbed the rest of the way up the ladder. He knelt across the small expanse of floor until he was kneeling between Finn’s feet. He touched the tender scar on his knee protectively and bent to kiss the raised skin.

Finn let out a shaky breath, and then his hands were on Logan’s neck, his cheeks, drawing their mouths together. A salty tear came between their kiss and Logan pressed into it.

“Thank you,” Finn said into his mouth. He pressed a kiss to Logan’s cheek, then the other. “Merci.”

Logan smiled a little, eyes closed as Finn pressed their cheeks together. They wrapped their arms around each other at the same time. Logan cupped a hand to the back of Finn’s head and let him press his nose into his neck, rubbing his back gently, first over his t-shirt, then tucking his hand under it to feel Finn’s warm back.

Finn took in a shuddering breath and Logan felt it beneath his palm.

“I know,” Logan whispered. He stroked his fingers through the hair at the base of Finn’s neck. “I know.”

“I won’t play again,” Finn said, muffled. “Not like before.”

Logan could only hold him through it. He’d known it would hit Finn. He just hadn’t known when.

They stayed there until Logan heard Luna open the door and call out.

“She takes care of the property,” Logan said softly as Finn pulled back. His eyes were a little red, but he looked okay. He smiled and nodded that he was. Logan wiped gentle thumbs under his eyes. “She helped me with this. She’s wonderful. Probably here to welcome us home.”

He could all but see Finn linger on the word us. The smile that came with it.

“We better go meet her then.” Finn pressed a kiss to Logan’s palm, and they made their way down the ladder.

They slept and recovered. They ate and swam in the protected cove at the base of Logan’s cliffs. Logan sunk beneath the waves of Finn’s body. He didn’t need air. He needed Finn with salty hair and slightly pink shoulders. Finn mixing Daiquiris and Paper Planes.

And he needed Finn beside him on the hot courts, putting him through backhand drills and split sprints. Spotting him in the gym and keeping him pushing. The back of his t-shirt covered in clay when Logan pulled him down and kissed him until they’d lost the light and had to turn the court lights on.

“Nope, nope,” Finn said now, above his head and upside down with Logan on his back. “One more, come on.”

Logan blew air out and arched his back against the bench press. His muscles were shaking. Sweat dripped into his eyes.

“Come on, Tremblay,” Finn said. He hovered his hands just above where Logan’s were clenched around the weight. “Bring it to me.”

With a last burst of effort, Logan did, and Finn helped him guide the weight back into its rest.

“Good,” Finn said, coming around the bench as Logan lay there, chest heaving. Finn patted a hand over his heart. “That was good.”

“Good?”

“You’re gonna love me for it later,” Finn swung one leg over the bench to straddle Logan’s thighs and then bent forward slightly to dig his thumbs into Logan’s hip flexors. “Promise.”

Logan groaned. “Hm…”

“Fruit, water, then let’s do some band work.”

“How about you take me to bed.”

“Oh, I will.”

For a moment, Finn disappeared. Then he was back and holding out a strawberry to Logan. Logan raised his head only enough to take it between his teeth.

“Let’s go now,” he said chewing.

“Non, nom.” Finn took the stem of the strawberry back and ate the rest off himself. He balanced the bowl of fruit on Logan’s chest and threw the strawberry green at him. “Get up, let’s go.”

It was their last night before leaving for England and Wimbledon before Logan knew it. He hated packing, and Finn—for once in his life—was no help. He was just as terrible. They both wandered aimlessly around the bedroom Logan already couldn’t imagine not sharing. How had he slept alone before? When Finn eventually had to take some calls, Logan found that he actually didn’t mind packing Finn’s suitcase as much. He liked looking at his things. Which t-shirts had holes and where. The blue hat.

They met back up in the living room. Logan emerged with their suitcases, leaving them to push the sliding doors all the way open to let the evening breeze in, just as Finn threw his phone down on the couch before following it with a huff. He closed his eyes for a moment, then turned and looked at Logan.

“So many people want you, Lo.”

Logan just smiled and nudged for Finn to lift his head and shoulders so Logan could sit down, Finn’s head in his lap. He rubbed at the base of his neck. He made his fingers light and ticklish through his hair and watched Finn’s face relax.

“I love this place,” Finn said. “I really love this place.”

“It’s yours.”

“They say it’s going to be a heat wave in England.”

“I know. Good thing I’m used to the heat.”

“Black’s not playing.”

“His ankle.”

“Have to get through Lupin, though.”

“And Knut,” Logan said. He’d become more and more worried about beating Leo. He was skilled, yes, but even more than that he was unshakable. His mental game was the strongest Logan had ever seen—and then there was himself. Prone to throwing rackets and all sorts of stupid things.

“I was watching tape,” Finn said. “Of one of your first matches against him.”

“Ouais?”

Finn still had his eyes closed. He swallowed. “You broke a racket over your knee.”

Logan sighed. “Ouais, well…I do that sometimes, I guess.”

Finn shifted a little. He straightened his bad knee slowly and Logan stilled, understanding. He watched the way the fragile tendons moved under Finn’s pale skin.

When he looked back at Finn’s face, Finn was staring up at him with firm brown eyes.

“You’re never going to do that on a court again,” Finn said. “Okay?”

Logan touched Finn’s adam’s apple. He cupped a hand against his cheek. He wanted to kiss all the fragile, healed parts of him.

“Yes,” Logan said. “Okay.”

Finn put his hand over Logan’s. “Hey, Lo?”

Logan tilted his head. “Rouge.”

Finn smiled a little, brows drawn together. “Huh?”

“Red,” Logan explained, realizing what he’d said. He pushed his hand through Finn’s hair again. “Red.”

Finn’s closed his eyes, smiling. “Oh.”

“What were you going to say?”

“Hm,” Finn said, pushing into Logan’s hand. “Oh. I’m gonna love you forever.”

~

ONE YEAR LATER

“So, Logan. You’re back in Wimbledon as the defending champion. And this year it’s a re-match of last year’s insane six hour final against Leo Knut.” The interviewer shook her head, smiling. “Quite a day here. How are you feeling?”

Logan was at the Breakfast At Wimbledon desk with a mic clipped to his shirt. A girl had dusted some powder of his nose and forehead.

You’re pretty good, but for the shine, she’d said in her light accent. Hey, do you know how crazy your eyelashes are?

Logan thought of Finn, early in some blue mornings, making him stir with a tender thumb just under his eye.

“I’m feeling good,” Logan said. He cleared his throat. English had been coming easier and easier to him, but it was always harder to grasp somehow on television. “I think about that match a lot, of course. But my coach, ah, when we are studying the hard parts, parts where I almost lost, he has a good way of saying it’s a first draft and this one is—will be even better.”

“Oh gosh, imagine that, what a treat for the fans!” She folded her hands in front of her. “You bring up your partner and coach, Finn O’Hara. Speaking of him. Here we were thinking Finn was completely out of the game for good, but you two are set to play in the men’s doubles finals today! What a treat that was this year to see you two together. How ever did that come about?”

“Oh,” Logan said. “Well.”

Finn had been nervous, or giddy when asking him. Maybe both.

I was—I mean, you’re going to be focused on the real deal, I know. But doubles…not as much running around for me. Doctors say I’m doing good. I think I’d enjoy it. I know I should ask Alex, but would you ever want to—

Logan smiled just thinking about the memory. About tackling him and kissing him and yes yes yes.

Logan rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s kind of romantic, non?”

He caught the show going on as he passed a TV in the lobby. The panel fluttered happily around the romance of it all for a good while and then moved back to the upcoming men’s final.

Well, you know we do love the Black brothers here, our hometown boys, and I am sad they were both knocked out. Really, though, I could not be looking forward to this match more. There’s something about Tremblay and Knut matches, the older generation and the newer. We always call Black’s game a sneak attack. Tremblay is different. The almost dark intensity, in your face, of Tremblay’s game…He wants you to know he’s taking you apart. And Knut’s the same but lighter, it’s vibrant in a completely different way, its buoyancy—

They really found so many ways to call him old in this place.

“Hey, baby.” Finn said when Logan came up behind his chair. Logan leaned down to press a kiss to his cheek, then his neck, then he tilted Finn’s chin to the side to kiss his mouth.

“Hey.” Logan sat down at the iron table on their hotel’s sun covered patio and tilted his face up to the sky. It had nothing on Finn, though. He scooted his chair closer to Finn and and settled his hand on his knee scar, “Ça va?”

“Good.” Finn pushed a plate of mango towards him and put his hand over Logan’s. “Picked up your match clothes. Oh, and ordered you an omelette.”

Logan smiled, chewing. “Merci.”

“Aren’t I romantic?”

Logan arched a brow.

Finn laughed one of Logan’s favorite laughs. Lips closed, smile making his eyes crinkle. He held up a slice of mango and Logan took it from his fingers.

“So,” Logan said, swiping a thumb over Finn’s knee. “Do I get to coach you today?”

~

It was something else, being on the court with Finn. It felt like a gift. Finn in a baseball cap—not the blue one, Wimbledon called for white fabrics only—but Logan loved it anyway. Finn holding his palm up to whisper strategy to Logan. Getting to watch Finn move on the court. It wasn’t the same—he used to do these glorious, long slides like Logan couldn’t believe. But it was still beautiful. His footwork. That wicked one-handed slice of a backhand. His top spin drop shots that won them more points than not. Getting to go down on a knee near the net and listen to the familiar power of Finn serving the ball behind him.

Logan wasn’t so used to doubles. He lost a millisecond every time the ball bounced in the sidelines before remembering it counted. The only easy thing to train himself into seemed to be letting Finn take some of the shots. Trading off with him, weaving around the grass court. They killed at it. Logan had thought they’d probably be good, but they knew where the other one was like magnets.

Logan had known they were going to win by the third round. The finals was nothing. He had Finn at his side. When Finn’s final, perfect shot was right down the line, Logan let out a shout and jumped into the air. He heard the crowd roar. He turned and looked at Finn. Finn had raised his fists. He had his head tilted back, grinning, his racket at his feet.

Logan didn’t even wait before running forward and hugging him around the waist hard. His nose went right where it always did, pressed against Finn’s collarbone, and Finn clutched him back.

“So good,” Logan said in his ear. “Fucking beautiful, you’re beautiful out here.”

Finn was laughing and slapping him on the back. He reached for Logan’s hair, knocking his hat off. “I love it. Oh, I love it here with you, Lo, I love you…”

He liked standing and being interviewed better with Finn at his side, too. He liked being able to reach out and squeeze his hand.

“Logan,” the woman interviewing them said. “You’re playing the Wimbledon final tomorrow and I don’t know if you saw but your opponent is here watching. Anything to say, how are you preparing for tomorrow after this win?”

Logan wiped sweat out of his eyes and squinted up at the stands. Sure enough, in one of the front rows, Leo Knut was sitting there. He wore a light blue t-shirt that rippled in the breeze and a pink baseball cap that tucked his blond curls out around his ears. He raised his hand slightly, looking like he knew he was probably on camera and a little awkward because of it.

He also looked good. The bright colors suited him, setting off his tanned skin. When the breeze pushed his t-shirt sleeve up a little, Logan could see a stark tan line like the one he always got and Finn never did.

“Oh,” Logan said. “Ah…C’est pas, um…See you tomorrow?”

The audience laughed and Logan looked at Finn to see if he was smiling. He was.

“And you, Finn, as Logan’s coach, how do you think this win will translate into tomorrow’s game for your player?”

Your player.

Finn glanced at Leo, too. “Well, it’s a totally different game. Leo isn’t going to make anything easy, he’s so talented and he has an outstanding team behind him. But…” He threw an arm around Logan’s shoulders. “This win definitely doesn’t hurt, so, yeah, see ya tomorrow, Knut!”

The audience laughed again, cheering as Finn raised the trophy over his head again for them. Logan took a step back, watching him bask in the sun of it all before the photographers would descend and want both of them together.

“Can we get one of you both holding the trophy? Thank you, thank you…”

They were positioned at center court, shoulder to shoulder, each holding one of the trophy’s handles. Logan hated this part. The flashes. His smile felt so posed to begin with and it would feel even worse after holding it for two minutes.

“Hey,” Finn whispered.

Logan turned his head, and suddenly Finn was kissing him. Smiling and kissing him.

The cameras went off like fireworks.

[poppy-metal]

it’s your birthday and you weren’t expecting your husband to do anything for you. he usually forgets and then buys you an expensive present weeks later, out of guilt, but tonight, he promised to take you out for dinner. after getting your makeup done professionally and dressing to the nines in a tight black dress and sleek black louboutins you head to the restaurant he told you to meet him at. after waiting for hours, you decide to go home where you find him pumping into a gorgeous woman, who you later on find out, is his secretary. you silently head to your walk in closet, pack your bags, and head to your range rover in the garage. with tears streaming down your cheeks, you call patrick after settling in a suite at a nearby five star hotel. wall street patrick immediately cancels his dinner meeting with a major potential client and speeds down the highway.

after arriving at the hotel, he finds your bare faced with your glasses on, wearing a silk nightgown and some fuzzy slippers. for a moment he’s taken aback. you always look so high maintenance and put together but to him this is the most beautiful you have ever looked – puffy eyes, pouty lips, wet lashes and all. you look up at him and beg him to hold you. he rushes to the couch you are seated on and lets you cry on his armani suit. he doesn’t care that you’re getting tears and snot on it. seeing you so comfortable and vulnerable around him makes his dick painfully hard. all he cares about is being there for you and probably ordering a hit on your soon to be ex husband tbh.

after you fall asleep on his chest he gently carries you to the bedroom, kissing your temple before tucking you in to sleep. you awaken from your short nap and ask him to sleep with you, it’s been so long since someone slept next to you, and he almost cums in his pants, the thought of you asking him to sleep with you consumes his mind, but after taking off his suit and washing up, he lays in bed with his undershirt and his boxers. he apologizes for not having any clothes with him because he doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable or scare you off but you jokingly reply “usually i sleep naked…you’re fine”. being in his boxers, it gets harder for him to hide his thick bulge.

it’s 2am in the morning and patrick startles awake. you’re talking in your sleep and he’s worried. you’re having a nightmare…or so he thinks. you’re whimpering and moaning and he thinks it’s so hot. poor baby hasn’t been fucked right in so long, the only action she gets is in her dreams. he giggles a little until he hears you moan his name. to him, it sounds like a choir of angels singing the most divine melody to ever exist. he ends up rushing to the bathroom and spitting into his hand to take care of his problem.

you wake up to shlick shlick sounds and groaning in the bathroom. could patrick be touching himself? he forgot to close the door all the way and you could peep into the bathroom through the crack. you probably shouldn’t, it would make you a bad friend, but ever since the first day you saw him, a part of you has wanted to sit on his cock and fuck yourself through an orgasm. you slowly walk towards the door and see him in the shower, sniffing the used panties you left in the bathroom while furiously stroking his giant veiny cock. it looks so scary with its angry red tip but your mouth starts watering. you rush back to bed feeling guilty for overstepping boundaries and for wanting to gag on your friend’s dick while rubbing your clit. patrick on the other hand, being a calculating master manipulator left the door open to make sure you would hear him and see him, hoping that he would have the same effect on you, that you have on him.

- alien anon

so I need to touch myself .

[moremaybank]

'TIL DEATH DO US PART — r.c

pairing rafe cameron x fem!reader

summary the night before your wedding, rafe reminds you that you'll always belong to him

warnings 18+, unprotected sex, semi-public sex, cheating, breeding kink (ish), creampie, language

author's note heyyy new layouttt. also i accidentally deleted the request for this bc i'm an actual idiot. don't hate me pls

rafe masterlist

Your rehearsal dinner looks like something out of a movie. A soft, warm light is cast around the room, reflecting off the chandelier hanging from the centre of the ceiling beautifully. The hall is jam-packed with almost every kook on the island, who are all dressed to the nines and engaging in small talk. 

You spot your fiancé Jackson across the way, catching up with some of his old friends from college. He throws his head back in laughter, assumably in response to a joke, and you smile at how happy he looks. 

A year ago, you never would’ve imagined that you’d find yourself engaged to Jackson. Truthfully, you only ever saw yourself marrying a certain Cameron boy. But things change. You still aren't sure for better or worse, but they have nonetheless. 

Deciding that you need another drink after thinking about he who shall not be named, you navigate through the crowd in pursuit of the bar. 

“A shot of tequila, please.” 

The bartender nods, grabbing a shot glass off one of the shelves and topping it up. You bid him a thank you and quickly down the contents of the small glass. You shut your eyes at the slight burn, feeling the warmth make its way down your system. You let it wash away the memories of him. Even after all this time, you can still feel his hands on you and his soul intertwined with yours, as if he left an imprint on you forever. 

He branded you, and you’ll never forget it, not even when you’re married to Jackson. 

You know it’s horrible. It’s awful. Jackson is an incredible guy. He’s everything Rafe isn’t, everything Rafe could never be, and you can see yourself being happy with him for the rest of your life. But even so, deep down, you still yearn for the imperfection and flawed love that came with being Rafe’s. 

You request another shot, knocking it back faster than your brain can process. The guilt is eating you alive, and you’re desperate to kill it. You shouldn’t be thinking about him. Not here, not now, and certainly not with your poor, unknowing fiancé across the room.

“Rough night?”

A chill runs down your spine, and goosebumps prick at your skin. It’s as if your senses have just come alive at the mere sound of his voice. 

You prepare yourself, shutting your eyes and taking a deep breath before turning around to face him.

There he is, standing in all his devilishly handsome glory. His eyes are as icy and blue as ever, his sharp features already making you weak in the knees. His body is clad in a perfectly tailored Armani suit, with dress shoes to match. 

It’s shameful to admit, but he looks gorgeous. Then again, when does he not?

“What the hell are you doing here?” 

He inches closer to you, his dress shoes lightly clacking against the marble tiles of the floor. “Relax, princess. I just came here to give you your wedding gift, seeing as I’m not invited to the actual wedding.”

“You weren’t invited here, either. If Jackson sees you—”

“—Let him see me. I don’t care.”

Same old Rafe Cameron, you think, cocky as ever.

“You can’t be here, Rafe. I’m not going to let you ruin this for me.” 

Your hands find his arms, and you spin him around before shoving him and making a beeline for the doors. You locate the nearest restroom and push him inside, locking the door behind the two of you.

“I gotta say, I’m not feeling very welcome here,” Rafe notes. 

“That’s because you aren’t. You know Jackson has always felt insecure about our past. It’s not fair of you to come here and try to stir the pot the night before our wedding. You have to go, Rafe.”

Rafe’s eyes trail down your form. The dress you’re wearing outlines your curves perfectly. Your arms are crossed against your chest, further accentuating your cleavage. Thanks to the heels strapped around your ankles, your legs look longer, and you’re glowing more than ever.

“You look stunning,” he notes, rubbing his fingers against his lips as he drinks you in. 

“Why are you here? Seriously.” 

“C’mon, baby. You didn’t think I’d let you marry that fucker without getting one last taste of what’s mine, did you?” 

A sinister-like smirk plasters itself on his face when he notices your stern expression falter, and he knows his words are having the desired effect on you. 

“Don’t go there, Rafe,” you say, walking over to the sink and creating more distance between you. You brace your hands on the counter, taking a deep breath and purposely avoiding Rafe’s heated gaze in the mirror's reflection. 

“Why? ‘Cause you’ll jump at the chance?” He asks, stepping closer to you. “I can see it in your eyes, princess. You miss me.”

You scoff, “Actually, I don’t."

“You do. You miss my hands on you,” he whispers. His large hands find your hips. He glides them upward and toward your tits. He cups them over your dress, squeezing them and then revelling in the small, tortured moan you let out. 

His lips brush against the shell of your ear, “You miss my lips on you.” 

Then, his hands slide down to your hips again, pulling your ass against the hard cock in the confinement of his slacks. “And you miss my cock inside of you, fucking you ‘til you’re babbling.”

You can feel yourself growing wet as he rubs against you, and you’re tempted to lean into his touch and give in. But then you think about how wrong this is. Yes, you’re harbouring feelings for your ex, but you’ve never acted on them and never planned to. And so, coming to your senses, you brush him off and turn to face him.

“Go home, Rafe. You…you have to go home.” 

You're barely able to maintain eye contact with him, and you're sure he'll either call your bluff or straight-up ignore your wishes.

“I’m not going anywhere."

Straight-up ignoring, it is.

“Stop it.”

“No,” he simply states. “You’re mine whether you like it or not, don’t you get that? You can’t walk away from this. From me.”

Rafe’s tongue darts out to moisten his lips as he stares down at you, awaiting your next move. He senses your uncertainty. He knows you need him just as much as he needs you, and he can see how hard you’re trying to fight it. 

He’s always loved your fiery persistence.

His gaze intensifies on yours, and before you can speak, his hand slips under the slit of your dress, cupping your wet core through your barely-there panties. The familiar feeling of his cool rings against you makes you shiver, just like old times.

“Look at that. Your pussy’s giving you away, baby. Even she knows you can’t resist me.” 

“Bite me,” you grit out, trying your best not to give him a reaction when his fingers tease your clit. 

“I will. Just remember you asked for it.” His head dips down, and he scrapes his teeth against your jawline, partially making good on his promise.

“You’re impossible. I can’t even look you in the eye right now.”

“Then turn the fuck around,” he says, both hands grabbing you before he spins you around to face the mirror. He hikes your dress up over your hips and tugs your panties to the side. You hear the clinking of his buckle as he undoes his belt, along with the unfastening of his zipper, and before you know it, his cock slams into you without warning. You inhale sharply at the sudden intrusion, and Rafe does nothing to hide the smug look on his face. 

Without allowing you to adjust, he starts to snap his hips against yours quickly and harshly, as if he’s punishing you for even daring to look in another man’s direction. 

“Rafe, fuck,” you whine, your sanity now long gone. Your mouth is wide open as you take his harsh thrusts. He uses this opportunity to fuck the idea into your brain: you will never be rid of him.

“Look how much you missed me. It’s written all over your face. Not to mention, all over my cock,” he grates, referring to the arousal you've coated him in. He goes harder, impaling you balls deep. “So fucking needy. Does he even fuck you right? Get you off? Or are you thinking of me when he tries?”

“Shut the fuck up and make me cum, Rafe.”

“I don’t think you’re in the position to make demands, sweetheart. Not when you’re about to marry a pathetic nobody that can’t make you scream like I can.”

You hate how his words still cut deep, mainly because he’s right. But you don’t want to give him the satisfaction, not when he’s already getting what he wants from you. 

You shut your eyes, trying to ignore him, but Rafe quickly shuts that down. He lands a harsh slap on your ass before gripping your throat. “Nuh-uh. You’re gonna watch me while I fuck you. You need to know that your pussy belongs to me. All your cum and all your orgasms belong to me. Not him. Not anyone else. Me.” 

You stare into his eyes in the mirror’s reflection after opening them back up, biting your lip as you try to keep yourself quiet. 

“There she is. There’s my girl,” he rasps. His hand leaves your throat, slithering down to your clit and rubbing rough circles into it. He feels your knees buckle when he does so, and he doesn’t miss the breathy moan that escapes your lips. “Fuck, I missed those sounds, princess.”

Rafe’s cock jams into a particularly deep spot inside of you, and before you can stop yourself, you yelp loudly. His jaw clenches, and the hand on your clit abandons it to cover your mouth and muffle your noises. 

“Make one more noise, and everyone in the goddamn party will know what a greedy fucking whore you are. One dick just isn’t enough to satisfy my girl, huh?” 

The secrecy and excitement blossoming from your current affair both send you into a spiral. You whimper against the palm of his hand, and you bite down on the skin to silence yourself. He’s reaching immaculate places and making you see stars, and you think that this must be what heaven feels like. You’re not quite sure what to make of the fact that Rafe is bringing paradise to you instead of your loving and faithful fiancé, but all you can focus on is how electrified you feel. 

“Play with your clit. Soak my fucking cock, baby.”

You do, flicking it relentlessly as Rafe fucks you over the edge. You cry into his hand, your breath shaky as your body jerks. The warmth spreads throughout your body, leaving a dewy glow on your skin. 

Rafe releases his hand from your mouth and returns it to your hip to get his own. He pulls you back into him repeatedly, his cock jamming into you and weakening your legs. 

“I’m going to cum right inside this pussy. Imagine if you were walking around on your wedding day with my baby in there. I think you’d fucking love that,” he grunts, getting himself worked up even further. Your walls flutter around him, thanks to his filthy mouth. He chuckles breathlessly, “That’s what I fucking thought.”

You reach behind you, grabbing his balls and massaging them in your hand. You feel his cock twitch inside you, followed by the heat of his cum shooting into your walls and painting them white. Rafe rides out his orgasm, and once he calms down, he pulls out of you. He moves your panties back into place and pulls your dress back down before tapping your butt with his index and middle finger.

“Now run back out there to your loser fiancé with my cum dripping down your thighs. Congratulations on the wedding.” 

updated rafe taglist (join here!): @pankowperfection @tinyluvs @oncasette @rafesmoon @hopesdadswife @taintedxkisses @maybankslover @goldenroutledge @penny4yourthoughts @bmo-bri @hemogloban @princessbetsy123-blog @slytherhoes @whoisdrewstarkey @dreamingwithrafe @vigilanteshitposting @twelfthmortalofcrimsonpalace @laineywilsons @sw34terw34ther @adoreyouusugar @rosie-cameron @f4ll-for-you @rafesdirtyslut @tell-me-when-ur-ready @bbycowboi @venomwh0re @cecesrings @cumbuckett @jjmaybankisbae @mvybanks

[zhongrin]

I know you are into ceo zhongli

But consider

Sugar baby Zhongli, being always ready for you at your home, being a lil housewife as you pay back his debts

Modern or normal setting work, with normal being more funny, as the great and powerful Archon has to clean up the house and is being broke

with normal being more funny, as the great and powerful Archon has to clean up the house and is being broke

wdym this isn't our dynamic right now i'm the one running the teahouse i'm the one winning the bread bay beee-

i cannot choose. i literally cannot choose. i love me my hot, rich, and powerful ceo zhongli. the zhongli who wears sunglasses and drives a bmw and appears in his company's commercials because he's got both the looks, the brains, and skills. the sugar daddy who would buy you everything without question, who loves seeing you all dolled up as he takes you to a fancy-ass dinner in the most luxurious restaurant in the city.

but i also love me my hot, broke, and charismatic househusband zhongli. the zhongli who wears reading glasses and an apron and drives a family car, who goes to supermarkets and has to recheck his notes because he can't for his life remembers if three dollars for a carton of eggs are cheap or expensive. the sugar baby who smiles kindly upon you gifting him expensive watches and armanis for him to wear, who welcomes you home with a home-cooked meal and massages your tired body and helps you shower, dry your hair, all the way until you're snoozing peacefully on the bed.

i love them both. can i have them both....