#he’s allowed to get new teeth later

[spookyboywhump]

Apologies to my beloved blorbo for this one. I swear I love Jet I really do-

CW: Pet whump, mouth whump, tooth whump, this one is. More bloody than the last one.

***

He regretted the action as soon as he’d done it. She kept grabbing his face, roughly grabbing his jaw, digging her nails into his skin, he couldn’t take it any longer. He wasn’t even thinking when she reached for him again, and he snapped- literally, snapping and biting her hand.

She gasped, swearing and yanking her hand away, and he didn’t fight her, in fact he stared at her in horror, his heart sank as he realized what he had done. He knew he’d be punished for this, and when he saw the smallest drop of blood well up from where his teeth had broken her skin, he knew he’d be punished for it harshly.

“I’m sorry.” He blurted out immediately. “I’m sorry ma’am, I’m sorry, please- please forgive me, I’m sorry!” He begged, his heart pounding so hard his chest hurt. “I didn’t mean to, that- that was stupid, I don’t know why I did that, I-I was scared, I’m sorry.”

“Shut up!” She snapped at him, slapping him across the face. It stung, but he was almost relieved, he was used to being slapped around, he could handle that. “I don’t want to hear it! You will never do that again, do you understand me?” She said sternly, and he nodded.

“I won’t, I promise, I’ll be good, I swear!” He insisted. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to, I just- I just-“

“That’s enough.” She ordered him, and he shut his mouth, staring at the floor as he was too scared to even look at her directly. “You will be good, I’m only going to teach you this lesson once.” She told him, turning away from him. He already knew to expect punishment, he just didn’t know what to expect, and that made it even more terrifying. When he looked down, he realized his hands were shaking, he clenched his fists to try and ignore that, to try and hide it from her. He really felt stupid for it now, for thinking he could actually defend himself. He already knew he was stuck here, what good was it trying to fight back? She’d already made that clear, he wasn’t going anywhere unless she said so.

“Look at me, mutt.” She ordered, and he forced himself to look up. It seemed he wasn’t quick enough, as she roughly grabbed his jaw again, digging her fingers into his face until it hurt. “Open your mouth.” She said, he did as he was told, but it wasn’t until he’d done so that he saw the pliers she was holding in her other hand. His blood ran cold, his eyes widened and he instinctively tried to pull back but she just dug her nails into his skin. “Stay still, or I’ll strap you down and remove all your fucking teeth one by one.” He froze, he didn’t know if she meant it and he didn’t want to find out.

He would’ve begged her not to do this, to punish him any other way, but that already hadn’t gotten him anywhere, it seemed to only make her angrier. As she actually brought the pliers to his open mouth, he whimpered pathetically, scared half to death but even more scared to move and find out what she would do to him for it. He tried to blink away the tears welling up in his eyes, but he was unsuccessful, and he didn’t even have it in himself to care how pitiful he looked right now. The metal gripped one of his canine teeth, and he suddenly found it even harder to keep himself from crying, the anticipation almost felt like it was worse than the pain that was to come. That was, until she finally yanked on his tooth.

He didn’t know if he had bad teeth, or if she’d done this before to the point she could execute it expertly. Either way, his tooth was ripped from his mouth and he howled in pain as she briefly let go of his face. He immediately brought his hands up to cover his mouth, struggling to breathe through his nose. He couldn’t calm himself down, getting more and more panicked, especially when he pulled his hands away and saw the mess left behind. She discarded his tooth on the floor like it was nothing, looking down on him like he was just an annoyance to her, that cruel, uncaring look she gave him just upset him more.

“I-I’m suh-sorry…” He whined, desperate for any mercy she’d be willing to give, but he knew it was unlikely.

“Quiet. Open your mouth, there’s still one more.” She demanded, and he let out a broken sob, unable to hold it in as his body was wracked with fear. Still, he did as he was told, he squeezed his eyes shut, opened his mouth, and waited for the inevitable as she grabbed his face once again. His jaw ached, his mouth was filled with the metallic taste of his own blood, and as he felt the grip on his other tooth, he found he was silently praying she’d change her mind, that she’d decide that one was enough. He’d never prayed before, not that he could remember, but as she yanked on his tooth he was quickly made aware that nobody was listening, and nothing could help him. This one didn’t come out on the first try, he cried out in pain, clenching his fists so tightly his nails dug into the palms of his hands, but with the second harsh tug, she ripped that tooth free as well, leaving him sobbing hysterically on the floor, hands cupped over his mouth to try and muffle his cries.

She looked at him disdainfully, wiping her hand on the long black skirt she wore, disgusted by the mix of blood and saliva that had run down his chin when she still held him in place. He couldn’t bring himself to look at her, not when she was still so angry with him, and not when he’d risk seeing his own bloodied teeth on the floor next to him. He suddenly felt nauseous, he’d never been particularly squeamish when it came to blood but this was getting to be too much for him.

“You’re fucking pathetic.” She sneered at him, her words like another slap to the face after what she’d already done to him. “You act so tough yet you can’t even handle that? I think you’ll want to be careful from now on, I don’t want to have to do that again but if you give me a reason to then I absolutely will.” She warned him, but it was a lesson he didn’t need to learn twice, he’d never bite her again, he wouldn’t even think about it. He pulled his hands from his face, sniffling as he wiped them on his pants, disgusted with himself as he could only imagine what a mess he was.

“Y-yes ma’am…” He murmured, struggling to speak through the pain in his mouth. “I-I’ll be good…” He told her, and he hoped so badly she believed him, hoped she would trust him to be good and behave from now on.

He hoped he’d never have to experience something that horrible ever again.

[revasserium]

love bites

kenma, tsukki, kageyama, hinata; 2,025 words; fluff, slightly suggestive, mentions of hickies, no "y/n", fem!reader, whiney!kageyama, dom!hinata, tsukki being... tsukki, post timeskip!characters

summary: these hickeys like the remnants of our love, footsteps on the sea-soaked sand, a line of demarcation -- here is where our story begins.

a/n: i just rly wanted to write about hq! babes and hickies...

kenma.

the first time it happens, it’s a mistake — a brief moment of vindictiveness manifest in the way he whines and nuzzles into your neck before opening his mouth and sinking his teeth into your skin. when you gasp, your head tipping back, kenma pauses, pulling back, his mind already cataloging this very interesting new piece of information for later use, but his eyes have yet to catch up — his body has yet to catch up with the sight of you, cheeks pink, lips parted, eyes slightly glazed over as you stare ruefully up at him, a hand coming up to press over your mouth as you frown.

“w-what was that for?”

kenma hums, sitting back with a pout, “you were the one being unfair.”

you scowl, “how was i being unfair? you lost the game fair and square — the stakes were loser does the dishes.”

kenma sniffs, his nose crinkling at the thought, “but we have a dishwasher — it’s literally in the name —”

“but the nice wine glasses can’t be put through the dishwasher!”

you push yourself up onto your elbows even as kenma slumps back on the sofa, groaning loudly. still, he lets his head slump to one side to stare at the rapidly darkening patch of skin at the junction of your neck and shoulders. there’s something that feels dangerously like desire calcifying in the pit of his stomach and he weighs the pros and cons of leaning forward to give you another good bite.

really, dinner was great, dessert was better but — this.

suddenly, he understands what his teammates had always meant when they’d said they could keep on eating forever, even when their stomachs were full to bursting, even when they thought they’d be ill.

“stupid wine glasses…” he murmurs, leaning forward to prop his chin on your shoulder. you laugh, a soft, breathy thing as you reach out to tug a strand of hair from his low, messy bun.

“but the wine was good, no?”

kenma hums, letting his head loll back and forth, his eyes flickering down once more to the round ring of red now rising against your skin. he allows himself a tiny grin, leaning forward to press a kiss over the tender flesh. he makes note of the way you gasp, soft and expectant, the way your body seems to tense and then go laxed beneath his hands.

“yeah…” he whispers, smirking as he sinks delicate fingers into your hair, gently shifting your head to one side to allow him more access, “guess it was good…”

he presses another kiss to your neck, just slightly below the reddening hickey.

“g-guess? that was — a-an expensive bottle…”

“hmmm…” kenma trails his lips down over your shoulder, tugging lightly at your shirt, the wide collar falling away easily. when he finds yet another patch of unmarred skin, grazing his teeth over it, he feels the way you reach up to fist your fingers in his hair.

“’zume… don’t think you can get out of doing the dishes like this…”

kenma laughs, letting his breath puff out against your skin seconds before he opens his mouth and takes another soft bite. he doesn’t miss the way you whimper this time, doesn’t mistake the hitch in your breath for something like surprise when he knows better — and he knows you best of all.

“not trying to get out of doing it… just… we never specified when the loser has to do the dishes so…” he licks his lips, glancing up at you with a bright, devilish flicker behind his eyes, “i’m just taking my time with the meal. nothing wrong with that, right?”

tsukki.

it is a normal thing, for you to wake up in the morning and find remnants of the night before scattered across your skin like sand dollars littered upon a stretch of beloved beach. and tsukishima is never apologetic — ever.

if anything, he looks upon his work with pride, smirking as you tug at the collar of your shirt, tutting.

“tsukki… i told you not to bite so hard…”

“hmm… sorry, i must’ve forgotten,” he props a cheek on his hand, peering at you over his glasses, his tone the farthest thing from apologetic, “heat of the moment and all.”

you shoot him a reproachful look in the mirror and watch as his grin widens ever so slightly.

“the girls are the museum are gonna have a field day with this.”

tsukishima shrugs, slumping back into the bed with a loud, long sigh.

“dunno why girls have such a weird fixation on other people’s boyfriends. ‘s not like it’s any of their business.”

you tug listlessly at the collar of your button up shirt, resigned to the fact that you’ll never be able to hide the marks properly as you heave another sigh.

“it’s just how we communicate — it’s like… how guys sometimes just need to like… punch it out — or whatever.”

“or whatever?” tsukishima almost chortles, rolling over onto his stomach again. your schedules at the museum only overlap 2 days a week, and the rest of the days, either he’s off or you are. it’s a miracle the pair of you were able to meet in the first place, let alone hit it off like you did.

“yeah. i don’t know how guys communicate,” you say, even as tsukishima swings out of bed to come up behind you, looping his arms around your middle.

“we… don’t, really,” he admits, in a customary deadpan, propping his chin on the top of your head with obscene ease. you frown up at him, tilting your head back till it hits the middle of his chest.

“you’re gonna make me late again.”

“so?”

“so — unless you want me to get fired —”

“they’re not gonna fire you. you’re too good at… cataloging maps, or whatever it is you guys do in the cartography department.”

tsukishima spins you around his arms, pressing you lightly back against the mirror. he considers you for a moment, with eyes just sharp enough to pass for academic interest, but you see the darkness misting its depths, the pressure in his fingertips as he leans in to seal his lips over yours in a kiss that could only be called searing.

you break away gasping, only to feel his lips trail fire down your neck seconds before —

“t-tsukki — !”

he pulls back with a satisfied smirk; you can feel yet another bruise blooming along your skin.

“there. one more thing for you and your girlfriends to bond over, hm?”

kageyama.

it is a deliberate thing, the first time. but kageyama remembers the strange gravity, the tug just behind his navel, the persistent itch of curiosity as he leans forward to sink his teeth into your skin.

he likes the way you hiss, the way you go soft in his arms, the pair of you already a pile of tangled limbs on the massive sectional in the living room, the lights dimmed, half a bottle of red wine yet un-drunk on the coffee table.

“tobio… what —”

he hums, burying his face in your shoulder, fingers digging into your sides.

“… something i wanted to try…”

“hm?” you gently card your fingers through his hair, quirking your head to one side.

“it’s just —” he pulls back, a deep blush prickling his cheeks as he looks anywhere but at you, “something… i’ve wanted to try. for — a while,” he admits, looking shockingly small for a internationally renowned volleyball player, hunched over on the couch like this, his lips stained dark with wine.

you giggle, leaning up to tilt his chin back towards yours.

“sure. you can try whatever you want.”

you lay back, stretching out beneath him, pliant and willing, and kageyama goes still for a solid four seconds before he narrows his eyes, an un-namable hunger clawing at his insides as he pulls you beneath him and groans into your skin.

he likes the way the colors seep the surface of your skin, likes the way it’s so obvious against the bright of your collarbones. he spends all of the following day in an intoxicatingly good mood, to the point where his teammates are understandable suspicious. but he just tells them he slept well, that he had a good dinner last night, that wine was really, really delicious.

and that thanks for the recommendation.

hinata.

brazil has changed him, in more ways than you can count, but at the same time, in some ways, he is just, just the same.

“s-shou-you!”

“mmm —” he whines sucking a deep hickey into the junction of your neck, his pupils blown wide as he pulls back, lips split into a too-pleased grin, “what is it? did i hurt you?”

there’s the barest hint of a tease in his voice, and anyone else might’ve thought he’s completely serious, that he’s actually worried. and in a sense, he is — he’d never want to actually hurt you. but he also knows that — to a certain degree, you revel in this kind of pain.

you chew on your bottom lip, shaking your head.

“no… it’s — it’s okay.”

“yeah?” he sounds entirely too happy with himself as he reaches forward to thumb at the damp spot on your skin, “ah… that one’ll be pretty. just like you!”

he laughs, his joy so pure and infectious that it makes you blush. you look away.

“shou…?”

“hm? what is it, pretty girl?”

he bends back down to press a light kiss to your collarbone, peaking up at you with those would-be innocent eyes.

“don’t… don’t tease me.”

hinata laughs, that self-same, joyous sound.

“but i like teasing you!” he says, with no hint of malice, not a single sliver of shame.

you can only cover your eyes with your arm, turning your head away.

“aww, don’t do that —” he says, coaxing your hand away before pinning both of them above your head with a single, fluid move. your breath hitches.

“don’t hide from me…”

it’s too much to hope for that someone with eyes like his would miss such a thing. you watch as the dark, lightless centers of his eyes grow ever so slightly larger, threatening to overtake the honeyed ring of his actual iris.

“can’t… can’t help it…” you look away, feeling the waves of indomitable heat, wave after wave, washing through you, collecting at the base of your stomach to twist into something deeper, something harder.

“can’t help what, hm?” hinata laces your fingers with his; distinctly, you can feel his thighs flex on either side of your legs, locking you in place. the summers are hot in rio, but you can’t help but wonder if more than half the heat in the room might be coming from the pair of you alone.

all around him, the air wavers like a reflection in pond-water —

“shou… just —” you lick your lips.

“ah…” there’s a soft whine curling at the edge of his voice as he leans down, “you’re not playing fair at all…”

desire pulses like a heartbeat inside you.

“shouyou, please,” you beg, trying to wrest some semblance of control back from him but he’s having none of it. he pins your hands to either side of your head, his bed more than wide enough for the pair of you, with room to spare.

“mah… you gotta be a bit more specific than that,” he says, his voice almost casual as he noses into your pulse point right beneath your jaw. you hold your breath and a second later, the harsh sting of his teeth rakes through you, chasing pleasure down your spine.

“m-more —” you choke out the word against the heat of his lips and you feel rather than see him grin above you.

“yeah? i think i can do that for you.”

[rafecameronssl4t]

can u do kinda inspired by new season where Rafe finds out what Sofia did and confronts her and calls her saying get out of his house but it’s bitchy!kook!bsf!reader x Rafe where they’re kinda more than friends and she tells Rafe a lie about Sofia and he believes her and gets super mad at Sofia

Passenger Princess || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

A/n: love this idea tysm!!

Warnings: r is manipulative, slight angst

Word count: 1,583

MASTERLIST

divider by @h-aewo

“Wanna come over?” you ask, your voice casual but your eyes lingering on Rafe’s profile, gauging his reaction. He turns his head to you briefly, pausing as the car idles at a red light. Without missing a beat, he reaches over, taking your hand and intertwining his fingers with yours, rubbing his thumb gently across your skin in a way that makes your heart flutter.

But tonight, his words hit you before the warmth of his touch does. “I can’t. Sofia wants to go out later,” he says, his gaze flickering back to the road, oblivious to how your expression shifts instantly. The mention of her name is like a slap, and your expression falters instantly. You let out a scoff, the sound sharp and almost bitter.

Without thinking, you pull your hand out of his grasp and cross your arms over your chest, turning your gaze out the window. The hurt and jealousy you’ve been pushing down surge to the surface, making your chest tighten.“She’s still living with you?” The words leave your mouth more accusatory than you intend, but it doesn’t matter now.

You need him to feel what you’re feeling, to understand just how much Sofia is getting under your skin. Rafe’s eyes flicker to you, his brow furrowing slightly, but he doesn’t say anything right away. He rolls his tongue against his cheek, his gaze narrowing as he presses down on the gas pedal when the light turns green. You can tell he’s frustrated, but you want him to feel more than that.

“Y/n…” he says, the soft plea in his voice making you grit your teeth. He’s clearly trying to de-escalate the situation, but you’re not having it. His voice falters slightly when he says your name again, as if he’s unsure of how to handle you when you get like this. You don’t respond, eyes fixed on the road, even though you don’t see anything.

Your mind is consumed by the thought of Sofia still lingering in his life. “I don’t understand why you’re still with her!” you snap, turning to face him, your voice sharp with frustration. Your heart races, and you know exactly where this is going. You’ve been waiting for the right moment to make your move. Then, with a practiced vulnerability, you let your eyes soften, allowing tears to well up.

You turn your head slightly toward him, making sure he sees the hurt in your eyes. You know the exact tone to use, the one that cracks just enough for Rafe to feel guilty, to feel like he’s let you down. You draw in a deep, shaky breath, letting your eyes glisten with tears. With a careful tremor in your voice, you speak softly, like you’re letting out something painful. “After everything she did to me…”

Just as you anticipated, Rafe’s head snaps in your direction, confusion and concern filling his expression. His eyes dart between you and the road, brow furrowing as he tries to process your words. “What are you talking about?” You let the tears begin to fall, looking down as though ashamed, your shoulders subtly shaking as you pretend to hold back sobs.

“What did she do to you?” His eyes flickered back and forth from the road to your tear-streaked face, searching for answers. He was desperate, each glance showing his growing frustration and need to understand. “Y/n…” he said, his voice lower now, tinged with an edge of anger that made you shiver. “Tell me—what did Sofia do to you?”

His tone was a mix of urgency and something fiercer, like he was barely holding himself back. You continued to sob, letting your shoulders shake as you turned away, keeping up the act. Rafe’s jaw clenched, his patience wearing thin as he stared ahead, but his entire focus was on you.

~

“Hey babe, what’s up?” Sofia’s voice rings out, saccharine sweet, and it instantly makes you cringe. The way she says it, as if she’s trying to mask something, makes your skin crawl. Rafe’s eyes flicker over to you for a split second, taking in your tear-streaked cheeks, red from how much you’ve cried.

Your heart races, a cold pit settling in your stomach. You’ve made sure Rafe is in the right headspace, pushed all the right emotional buttons, and now it’s time to watch it unravel. Rafe’s grip on the steering wheel tightens as he presses the phone to his ear, his expression hardening into something unreadable.

The silence that stretches between him and Sofia is palpable. You can feel the tension in the air, the unease settling like a storm cloud. “Rafe… what’s wrong?” she coos, trying to soften the tension. You can tell she’s trying to maintain control, but you know it’s slipping. But Rafe is done. He’s had enough.

“Is it true? Is it true what Y/n just told me?” he demands, his voice suddenly low, razor-sharp. The words are a punch, sharp and deliberate, leaving no room for misunderstanding. There’s a long pause, a dangerous silence on the other end. You can hear Sofia’s shallow breathing, the way she’s stalling, trying to figure out how to save herself.

It’s almost like she’s trying to put on a mask for him, pretending everything’s fine, but you both know it’s not. Sofia’s mind races, the memories of her deal with Hollis flooding in through her mind. “Is what true?” she finally asks, her voice faltering, a hint of nervousness breaking through her usual façade. “Don’t play games with me, Sofia,” Rafe’s voice is firm now, his jaw clenched.

You can feel the weight of his anger simmering just beneath the surface, ready to burst. You watch Rafe closely, your chest tight with both anxiety and satisfaction. This is what you wanted. You wanted him to finally see her for what she truly is. And now, it’s all about to come crashing down for Sofia.

On the other end of the line, Sofia’s silence is deafening. You can almost hear her panic, her inability to talk her way out of this one. Rafe’s anger is too much, too raw. And it’s all aimed at her. Rafe can’t contain it anymore. He slams his fist against the steering wheel with a deafening sound, making you jump in your seat.

The force behind it makes the entire car shake, and his anger is now fully unleashed. His knuckles are white, his body tense with fury, and for a moment, you think he might explode. You can see the muscle in his jaw working, his anger mounting as he struggles to keep his cool. The tension in the air is suffocating, and you almost feel bad for Sofia—almost.

You got him here—you’ve got him angry at her, and it’s exactly what you wanted. “Pack your shit. Get out of my house,” Rafe says through gritted teeth, the words biting and final. His voice is low, full of rage that you can feel in the pit of your stomach. Sofia’s voice cracks on the other end. “What?” Her voice wavers, like she can’t believe what’s happening.

You can practically hear her trying to regain control, but it’s too late. Rafe scoffs, his patience wearing thin. “We’re done, Sofia. Done.” he seethes, his hand slamming against the wheel again with a force that makes the whole car jerk. You jump slightly, but you can’t help the small, satisfied smirk that pulls at the corners of your lips.

“Pack your shit and get the fuck out of my house,” Rafe repeats, his voice steady now, but laced with disgust. There’s no room for negotiation, no chance of a second chance. This is it. With one last frustrated breath, he ends the call, the click of the phone punctuating the finality of it all.

[wibben]

Pillow Talk

Choso discovers new sensations when thoughts of you turn innocent moments into something much more… hands-on.

↳ pairing: friend! choso kamo x afab! reader

↳ warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut, virgin! choso, m masturbation, pillow fucking, overstimulation, fantasizing, pillow fucking, (not sure who the artist is, if you do please let me know so I can credit!)

↳ wc: 3,485

↳ notes: another cross-post from my ao3 while I try to make tumblr my main writing hub! I hope you enjoy! <3

“Goodnight.”

Choso’s voice is soft, barely louder than the creak of the bathroom door as he eases it shut behind him. Yuji is already asleep, he assumes—he doesn’t expect a response, but routine compels him to speak into that dark hallway void anyway. He waits, listening—a response does come in the form of a loud snore down the hall. 

Choso smiles fondly as he silently pads back to his own room, taking that as his queue that he is well and truly done with the day.

The cool, lingering dampness from washing his face clings to his skin, tiny droplets of water catching the faint flicker of silver from breeze-blown curtains as they trace thin rivers down his cheeks and neck. His hair, still slightly damp around his face, sticks to his forehead in dark, unruly strands. He doesn't care to tame it, nor does he bother to brush away the residual drips of water. They cool his skin wherever they touch, and he’s grateful for that because he feels oddly warm.

Warm enough that his t-shirt lies discarded on the bathroom floor, haphazardly kicked towards the laundry to be dealt with later.

He toes open the door of his room and nudges it shut behind him with his heel, listening for the soft cli-click of the knob. The room is dim, illuminated only by the soft glow of the moon filtering through the window, flickering through sheer curtains that really serve no purpose other than to look cute. That’s what you said, at least. Home decor…he doesn’t get it, but you seemed pleased with the addition so he was too. 

Choso shuffles with mechanical routine as he approaches his bed, his body craving the comfort of his soft mattress, to nest into the carved divet in the foam created by and molded to his body.

With the unceremonious flop of a marionette with cut strings, Choso allows himself to fall onto the bed, the springs squeaking their protest and his sheets rustling under his weight. He lays there face down, eyes closed, and simply lets himself sink.

In the quiet dark of night and behind closed eyelids, he wonders if this is what boats feel like.

He’s never been on one, but he’s seen plenty—in movies mainly, like the one you watched together earlier that evening. With senses deprived, his body rocks with the gentlest sense of vertigo, up and down, forward and back, soothing. He feels heavy, liquid and relaxed, and yet… not quite right. There’s a restlessness beneath his skin, an undercurrent to his gentle tide he can’t quite shake. He keeps his face buried in his pillow, wrapping an arm around it and holding it tight, as if the soft fabric could anchor him.

…He doesn’t know how long he’s like this but fuck he can’t sleep.

He turns his head from his pillow, eyes cracked open in the dark, lower lip pouted and dragging against the fabric; he wears a petulant expression with nobody around to see it, nobody to explain away his uneasiness. He’s tired he knows he is, and yet he feels like a taut bowstring, ready to snap at a moment's notice.

Choso rolls onto his back instead, running a hand through his damp hair and pushing it back from his forehead as he stares up at the ceiling. The room is silent save for the occasional creak of the house settling, and the faint, distant sounds of the city outside. A dog, a car, the smash of a bottle on a curb, the flap of his curtain, the grinding of his teeth—he categorizes each sound methodically, filing them away neatly and willing the tedium to bore him to sleep like it always does. Always did. But not tonight.

He closes his eyes, trying to force tranquility and exhaustion upon himself, but his mind refuses to settle. He thinks of boats and the ocean, he thinks about when you came over and knocked on the door, he thinks of the movie he watched with you and Yuji on the couch, he thinks of cooking dinner with you in the kitchen—he thinks of you, you, and you again. The tension in his bones stirs more insistently with each and every thought, each train tracking straight back into your station.

But that’s okay. Choso likes you, likes thinking about you, and thoughts of you have lulled him to sleep before with a sort of embracing comfort he can’t even begin to name. He smiles to himself in the dark—the same brand of smile only you seem to inspire in him. He just needs to think of you more and then surely—

He remembers your smile when he opened the door, the way it lit up your entire face, the wrinkle in the bridge of your nose as it screwed up and made him smile in return. Your laughter, too, was infectious. It always is, and he caught that particular sickness with remarkable consistency every time you tittered or giggled—a laugh reciprocated in his own throat as quick as a lit match, earning more than a few wide-eyed, slack-jawed looks of disbelief from his brother.

And then there was the spaghetti. 

It’s a simple meal and he eats it far too often—but it’s good, and easy to make for three. And you, ever eager to help, had insisted on joining him in the kitchen while Yuji picked out a movie. He didn’t mind though; your presence was nice, even if it meant treacherously navigating around you as you both shuffled around the small space with enthusiastic clumsiness. You bopped cabinets and the fridge closed with your hip, which he too fell victim to more than once, finding himself nudged into the counter by a stray hip-check. Despite the occasional collision, your proximity was a comfort, a warm, lively presence in the otherwise mundane routine.

Choso couldn’t help but chuckle as you fumbled with pots and pans, finding your determination to be helpful endlessly endearing, even with something so simple as flitting about the kitchen. He directed you to the cabinet where a jar of tomato sauce was stored with a quiet look of anticipation—innocently underhanded is the request. You wouldn’t be able to reach, he was sure. You wouldn’t be able to reach, and you would ask him for help, and he would be able to help—

He remembers the way you stood on your tiptoes, reaching for the jar with your free hand splayed against the counter. As you stretched, he watched as if in slow motion, fabric unfolding like the draw of a curtain away from a theater stage. Your shirt rode up, exposing just an inch of the skin above your waistband.

The sight was brief, but it held a searing magnetism that held Choso hopelessly hostage. It sapped his mouth of moisture, glued his eyelids open, and his hand gave a peculiar twitch with the sudden urge to touch you. He watched your skin shift as you reached higher and higher, the gentle curve of your waist, the way your skin looked so soft and inviting and smooth as satin and he so badly wanted to see if this usually hidden expanse was as soft as it looked, and Choso doesn’t want for much but god did he want—

And he completely forgot to offer you a hand, his mind swept blank with ringing tinnitus in his ears when you laughed and settled back onto the balls of your feet, whirling around and flourishing the jar with a triumphant smile. Your eyes sparkled with satisfaction, and there was a slight flush on your cheeks from the effort. Choso had smiled back then, feeling a warmth in his chest that surely had everything to do with the heat of the kitchen.

Choso suddenly flinches in surprise, abruptly torn from the pleasant memory as he absentmindedly rolls his wrist over his erection. He must have been doing this for some time now, judging by how the waist of his sweatpants has already rolled down his hip bones, freeing the red and needy head of his cock to the cool air and smearing a shiny trail over his arm. He stares down at the unmistakable bulge snaking up towards his navel silently perplexed, his shaft straining against the loose fabric where it’s still confined.

He’s fully hard. He hadn’t even realized it happened, hadn’t recognized the feeling building inside him until it manifested so obviously. Arousal snuck up on him, licking up his spine with hungry fangs while he was lost in the memory of you.

Familiar heat pools low in his abdomen, a dull hook that drags beneath his skin. His cock twitches with every beat of his heart, a heavy, insistent pulse that’s impossible to ignore. And he has tried to ignore it before. It keeps him from peace, from sleep— god he just wants to sleep.

It’s a mix of aching need and slick, simmering napalm that spreads through his veins and ignites kindling he hadn’t even known was there. He knows this feeling well, even if it has no name; the way his cock grows heavier and jumps against his stomach, the way his breathing grows rough and deep—all sensations he’s experienced before, though they never fail to leave him flustered and bewildered…and annoyed, above all else.

The intensity of the need always catches Choso off guard, consuming his thoughts and clouding his mind until he could find some way to deal with it. It frustrates him how this desire would strike at the most inconvenient times—when he’s trying to sleep, or worse, the times when he’s with you —an all too frequent occurrence, he thinks, and he wonders if you’ve done something to him. He’s been a decent friend to you, so it’s with a feeling of tormented betrayal that he simply cannot understand why you would afflict him with this so cruelly and so often.

Choso lets out a shaky breath, his hips shifting restlessly against his sheets. He hesitates, a moment of self-consciousness flickering through him and burning his face with a secret blush that blooms on his face first then leaks to his throat. He shifts upright, yanking his pillow from beneath his head, the familiar texture of the fabric cool against his skin, and positions it between his legs. He shoves his pants down, bunching them around his knees—good enough.

He tilts his thigh outward and lifts his hips up, giving an almost tentative grind into the pillow, as if unsure he’s doing it right. The friction is familiar, almost comforting in its predictability. Choso’s nostrils flare with a heavy sigh, his head falling back to the mattress as he stares heatedly at the ceiling, his eyes narrowed to slits. Slowly, he starts to fuck his pillow, the movements deliberate and mechanical, driven by the single-minded need to rid himself of the troublesome arousal gnawing at him.

His cock throbs with each slow thrust, the pressure of the pillow against him both soothing and maddening. The heat in his abdomen builds, coiling tighter with every grind. Pre-cum slicks the fabric, smearing in thin, dark stripes with each drag of his length against it. The pleasure is there, tingling all the way down to his toes, but it doesn’t crest, doesn’t even come close, leaving him teetering on the most frustrating of knife edges.

He grinds harder, hips moving more forcefully now, desperation seeping into every motion. The familiar rhythm that usually brings him relief is failing him, the need growing more intense with each passing second. His mind is a haze of lust and longing, the image of you blending with the sensation of his cock twitching against the pillow, creating a heady tonic that seeps deeply into his brain, sinking hooks that he doesn’t know yet he will never be able to remove. He bites down on his lip, a low, frustrated groan escaping his throat as he thrusts harder, faster, violently clawing for the release he so desperately and suddenly needs.

But it's not enough. His body is slick with sweat, muscles tensing and trembling with the effort. The pillow, once a source of solace, now feels infuriatingly inadequate. It only works him up higher, hotter, veins in his forearms standing out as he whines in frustration.

The pillow crumbles beneath Choso’s hands, the downy feathers within compressing and shifting into a useless lump under the abuse of his pelvis. Each pounding drag against the pillow drives him further from his peak, his own aggressive hopelessness raking him over hot coals as the very thing he uses to relieve himself falls apart in his hands.

His breaths are harsh, ragged, his heart pounding in his chest as he fights against the insistent ache that won’t go away. His goal remains just out of reach, a teasing promise that leaves him gasping and grinding against the pillow with mounting desperation. He wants to scream—it isn’t working, it isn’t working, why isn’t it working?

With a final, helpless thrust and bitter groan, he collapses onto the bed, panting and trembling with unspent desire. The need is still there, throbbing and insistent, leaving him feeling more restless than before. He whips the pillow aside to thump somewhere on the floor, damp and crumpled.

Choso lies there, staring up at the ceiling, his body aching with unresolved tension. The memory of you lingers in his mind, water and oil with the frustration of his failed attempt at relief. He feels helpless, yearning in the dark for something. Sleep, peace, release from his torment, you.

You.

It’s a new thought, one he’s never entertained before, but now it feels so undeniably right. He doesn’t question where the idea comes from; it’s an instinct, an impulse he can’t quite name but can’t ignore. Driven by this sudden urge, he trails his hand down the firm ridges of his abdomen, wrapping his fingers around his throbbing cock. The sensation is electric, sending a shiver up his spine as he tentatively strokes himself.

The sensation is immediate and overwhelming. It's like a jolt of lightning, a direct line of pleasure from his cock to his brain. His eyes flutter shut, a soft gasp escaping his lips as his fingers slide along his length, the friction so much more intense than the pillow. It's hotter, slicker, and he can feel every ridge and vein beneath his touch. His hips lift off the bed, rutting roughly into his palm with a choked whimper.

He strokes himself again, more confidently this time and slowly at first, exploring the unfamiliar territory with hesitant drags of his hand. He grips himself tighter, his thumb brushing over the sensitive head, and a strangled moan breaks free of his flushed and sweaty throat. It’s sharper, more focused, and it’s like nothing he’s ever felt before.

Thoughts of you flood his mind, but they're different now, colored with a perverse longing that makes his heart race and his cock throb in his hand. He remembers your kind smile, but now it feels like an invitation, a secret shared just between the two of you. Your laughter echoes in his ears, sweet and melodic, but it twists into something more intimate and utterly salacious.

His strokes quicken, his breath coming in ragged gasps. He thinks of you reaching for the jar of tomato sauce, the way your shirt had ridden up, exposing a strip of skin that glowed in the kitchen light. That innocent moment which only planted seeds of interest is now blooming with raw, aching desire. He imagines touching you—it would’ve been so easy to reach out and skim your flesh with his fingertips, to wrap his hand around the soft curve of your waist as he stood behind you, pin his hand over yours on the counter—

His fingers move faster, slick with pre-cum, each stroke sending pops of color to the edges of his vision. He thinks of the way you held the popcorn bowl between your thighs, the meat of your legs squishing around the ceramic and the genuine affection in your eyes when you offered it to him. But now, he imagines those eyes darkened with lust, looking at him with the same desire that grips him now. He pictures you close, your body pressed against his, your breath hot against his neck as you whisper his name.

Your voice would never sound as saccharine as it would as his name forms on your lips, your voice sweet as spun sugar as you coax him toward oblivion with a hand much gentler than his own.

The friction is maddening, his grip tight and unrelenting. Each pump of his hand draws him closer to the edge, his pleasure building in a way that’s almost unbearable. He imagines your fingers tangling in his hair, your lips ghosting over his skin, sending shivers down his spine. His hips thrust into his harried palm, chasing a climax that’s so deliriously close as his room is filled with the wet little sucks of pre-cum leaking between the creases of his fingers.

He imagines those same fingers in his hair drifting down his body, splayed over his abs, leaving red lines in their wake. The thought of your touch surprises him, but it feels so vivid, so intoxicating. He pictures your hands moving lower, tracing the dark hair that trails down his abdomen, teasing and scratching lightly. He imagines your hand… fuck, he imagines your hand.

Choso’s body tenses, his breath hitching as the pleasure peaks. His mind is filled with you—your smile, your laughter, your touch—how can he so vividly feel a touch he’s never known? How can he crave it so feverishly? By god does he crave it. 

With a gasp he suddenly turns his face into the crook of his arm, teeth pressing forcefully into the cords of muscle as he cums, muffling the guttural moan and reducing it to desperate whimpers instead. 

Cum spills over his fingers, hot and sticky ropes spurting onto his chest, his stomach, his spine arching under the almost blinding force of it and he only remembers to breathe when the lack of oxygen makes him dizzy.

His breath comes in ragged, uneven gasps as he lies there, stunned as certainly as if he’d taken a blow to the temple. Using his hand made all the difference, and picturing you rather than the detached clinicality he always approached this with changed everything. For the first time ever, the act of masturbation didn't feel like a necessary chore, it was a joy. His cum glistens on his skin, thick and milky, smeared across his abs and chest and sheets, a living, dripping, testament to that change of heart.

Choso’s hand remains wrapped around his cock, now softening in his grip, but he can’t bring himself to let go—an irrational concern that he might never feel something so exquisite again if he were to release himself. His cum dribbles over his fingers, pooling in the creases of his palm, and still he cannot let go.

He milks his cock slowly, drawing out every last drop with each firm squeeze around the head. The sensation is almost painful, the overstimulation sending sharp sparks of pleasure and discomfort through him, but he can’t stop. Each squeeze brings another bead of cum to the surface, dribbling down over his knuckles, mixing with the sweat and ejaculate that already slicks his skin and connects his hand to his belly with pale ropes.

His mind is a whirl of conflicting emotions. Embarrassment floods his thoughts, a blush creeping up his neck and settling in his cheeks with that awful clarity that always crashes his consciousness after. 

He wonders if he shouldn’t be thinking of you this way. He’s never thought of anyone else like this before, and the intensity of it all leaves him feeling exposed and vulnerable. But then, a small voice in the back of his mind reassures him. You’re friends, after all. This helped him, and you always love to help.

He’s struck with an odd desire—not the desire that landed him here, spent and weak and flushed in his bed with his palm wrapped around his soft and gooey cock, but a different kind. Gratitude. He’s grateful to you for afflicting him with this and unknowingly aiding him through it. Should he thank you? Choso thinks he should thank you. 

But for now, he lets himself drift in the hazy aftermath, your image the last thing on his mind as he begins to succumb to sleep, the feeling of your imagined touch still warm against his skin. Yes, he thinks as his brain all but weeps in joy as the curtain closes on wakefulness, he would have to thank you.

[inkskinned]

you found out today that a phrase you have used before was coined by an abusive man. this felt like getting your teeth taken out. it made you sick and sad and tired, but not surprised.

bad people tell you to be careful when you talk badly of bad men, that it could "ruin" a life. you had your life ruined by a bad man, not that it ever matters to them. your real life having real consequences is not valued as highly as the potential of his future.

this has always been a frustrating little mathematics problem for you. you've missed school and had to call out sick at work and had panic attacks that lasted for weeks. it stole sleep and food and friends from you. you cried in public, fucked your relationships up. and the whole time: your present has never mattered so much as the great what if! of his future. like - one life (your life) is already ruined, should we really ruin two?

so you live with the consequences and he doesn't, and that's just like, something you need therapy for. you once discussed this with one of your friends over coffee. she chewed the wooden stirrer, looked off into the distance. "once i became a victim, everything that happens to me afterward is automatically less interesting in the eyes of the general public. it is always about him. he changed my identity. to survivor. to statistic. meanwhile this whole time - i am a person."

you learned in college that three out of five of your favorite artists and authors were actually abusive assholes. these days, you are no longer surprised. oh, is that what was happening behind closed doors? of course it was, he was a "genius," and she was just a girl. you are talking about him in art history, so obviously his career was absolutely ruined, for eternity. that's what happens, right? they strike your name from the record and refuse to remember you? nobody really knows her name, but hey. that's what you get for being close to celebrity.

you got into an argument about it, which was a bad argument, because it made you cry. he said what, you want us to just ignore all the things this man did because he made a few women uncomfortable? and you'd balled your fists up and choked on it. later, in bed, you agonized over the response you'd been trying to articulate but never found the right moment to deploy: you are ignoring what any person could do if they weren't being fucking abused. maybe her talents far exceeded his and she was just never allowed to fucking use them. maybe we only see genius in white men because they purposefully fucking squash and silence any other people with talent.

but you'd cried about it instead of saying that, because you are the cost. you are the talent and potential that he took. you used to be brave and smart and clever and unafraid. like a lich, he stole years of your life.

quiet on set made you sad and sick and tired, but not surprised. unfortunately, one of the things he said was true: an entire network of people allowed it to continue. this is not news to you, because you have seen entire networks of people make the same fucking excuses when the same thing or-worse happened to you. and your particular story isn't even in hollywood. it was just a guy. it was still difficult getting people to stand up for you.

you and your friend wait in line for your coffee. like a standup joke, one man turns to the other and says "can't wait for every bitch to come crawling out of the woodwork complaining about harassment. it's another metoo." and you think - oh, that's the network. your boss tucks her hair back and whispers that while your skirt is cute, you're giving the boys the wrong idea. that's the network. when you'd told your "friend" about what happened, she'd said oh you must have misunderstood, that would never happen. and that's the network.

you woke up this morning panting, because years later you still have panic attacks. oh, it's not a network, actually, it's a web. and you, little moth: are you still surprised you're caught in it?

[csainzsgirly]

4444L - “baby… don’t get my seat wet.”

A soft breath left his mouth as his eyes glided over your bare back. The black, backless dress looked stunning on you. He hadn't been able to stop tracing his eyes to the way the material gathered around your hips, stretching over your ass. The v-shape of the fabric drawing playfully low over your lower back, leaving it up to his imagination what was underneath. He felt the blood flowing to his cock as he was shamelessly undressing you with his eyes, eager to get you into his car, but not eager to get you home. It was warm outside still, the sun hadn't fully set yet, lighting you up in a way that made his slacks tighten even further around his crotch. Your heels clicked on the stone pavement that would lead you to his car. He could see the brand-new Ferrari in the distance already, the soles of your shoes matching the red stripe that covered the hood and the roof of the car.

"Lando?" your voice barely woke him from his thoughts, and he needed to undo another button of his white blouse to prevent himself from passing out as he looked at your pretty face, your teeth biting into your red lips. My god, you were going to be the death of him. "Let me take a picture of you, darling," he said, drawing his phone from his pocket. You looked at his car from over your shoulder, a small grin tugging on the corner of your mouth. The pictures, they were... Wow. Lando wasn't even looking at his phone as he snapped them, he was just obsessed with the way you looked, especially when you leaned over the hood. He was obsessed with the red details in your make-up, your shoes, your nails. He couldn't get over the halternecked dress that made your tits look so amazing, your neck look so elegant.

Lando walked around the car to get the door for you, stopping you before you could do it yourself. His hands caught your hips, lightly pressing you against the metal frame of the car, his hard cock pressing against the back of your thighs. A shiver ran up your spine when his head dipped down to press his mouth to your shoulder. The moment lasted maybe thirty seconds, but it felt like an eternity when his arm moved around you, a hand slipping to your lower abdomen and pulling you back slightly to open the winged door. "Baby..." his voice rasped in his ear. "Don't get my seat wet." Goosebumps rose upon your skin at his words, a smile playing with your lips before you sunk into the leather seat on the passenger side.

He closed the door when you were sat, getting behind the wheel not much later. He didn't make any effort to start the engine as he leaned over the center console to take your jaw between his fingers, pressing a firm kiss to your lips. "Lando..." you started, looking up at him through your lashes, trailing a manicured hand down his chest, nails tickling the skin that was bared by the opened buttons. "I need you to fuck me in this car," you said, voice soft and angelic, causing his eyes to darken and his dick to grow painfully hard. The truth was, before this car was even his, before he had even seen it at the Ferrari garage in Monte Carlo, he already pictured the most obscene things with you in this car. The sun had set by now, and it was dark, the parking lot nearly deserted except for a few cars in the back. He hadn't fucked you in a parking lot this public before, but God, he was not going to start the engine and drive you back to his apartment now.

Lando swallowed the spit he would rather drop on your pussy with a hard movement of his adam's apple, pushing his seat further back and lifting you onto his lap with ease. "Is that so, love?" his voice had dropped another octave, making you feel breathless when your pussy was pressed against the bulge in his slacks, his fingers pressing into the small of your back, nails digging slightly into the skin that your dress left bare. "Show me," he said, bunching up your dress as you leaned back as far as the cramped space allowed you to. His head lulled back against the leather headrest of the seat, watching you press your back against the steering wheel. Lando's plump lips parted at the sight of the lace thong that covered you, the fabric a little damp when two of his fingers brushed over it. His eyes flickered back up to yours, watching your eyelids flutter when his thumb rubbed over your clothed clit.

The friction was delicious, shooting sparkles up your spine and drawing soft whines from your mouth. His fingertips teased the edge of the flimsy piece of fabric, brushing over your pussy before he pulled it aside. Heat rose to your face when he spat on your cunt, spreading the saliva before two of his fingers glided in with ease. Lando watched your pussy clench around his digits, lewd, obscene sounds filling the car as he fingered you in his Ferrari. He fucking loved seeing you like this, spread out in his lap, your brain already floating away, your pretty lips parted with moans that brushed up his ego even further. "Lando, Lando, Lando..." he hummed in response, his cock pulsing painfully, pressing against the zipper of his slacks, but he needed to get a taste of you. His eagerness turned him impatient, but you were in a state of bliss that made you unaware he tore your panties and threw them somewhere in the car.

The tattoo on your hipbone never failed to make his breath hitch in his throat. 4444L. You were marked by him forever. To anyone else, the tattoo existed of four simple numbers and a simple letter, but it released the most primal feelings in him. It made the choice of the number plate on this car easy. "F-fuck!" your whine made him groan as his tongue buried in your pussy. The position was awkward, but he didn't care about the way he had to strain his neck to get his mouth between your thighs. He lapped at your slick, sucking your clit into his mouth, satisfied to feel your fingers in his hair and your nails scratching his scalp. His fingers curled up against your g-spot, the near pornographic sounds you let out praising him more as you leaked on his tongue. "Shit, baby," Lando muttered, watching your slick drip down your thighs. "Need to be inside this pussy," his voice rasped against your mouth when you pulled you down to kiss him.

"Please," you breathed, your knees hitting the cool leather of the seat underneath him. You were burning with want and desire as he pulled his cock from his slacks, the tip leaking pre-cum, the veins nearly pulsing. Your hand wrapped around it, spreading the slick pre-cum over the head and further down, shivering at the mere thought of having him between your walls. Lando spread his thighs a little further, watching you align yourself with him before sinking down on it. He watched his fat cock spread you open, feeling your tight pussy clenching him. If you had been at home, he maybe would have taken it slow, letting you feel the ridges and veins on his cock, as he knew you loved and which drove you crazy, but tonight, now he had you on his cock in his new car, with the tattoo on your hip covered with your own cum his lips had smeared there, he wanted you hard and rough.

His hand wrapped around your throat before you blinked, the other hand moving to your lower back as he started to rut his hips upward, impaling you on his hard cock with a ruthless pace. All the oxygen was sucked out of your lungs, making you wrap a hand around his wrist and the other pressed against his chest. The windows of the car started to fog up while he fucked you harder, obscene sounds bouncing audible in the car, maybe even outside, but he didn't care. "You have no idea how pretty you look right now," he breathed, watching your tits bounce as your back was pressed against the steering wheel again. It felt filthy with the way you were both still fully clothed, your dress still bunched around your waist while only his slacks were undone and pushed down. "That's it," he gritted through his teeth, watching you lose touch with reality while the tip of his cock hit you deeper, spreading you further open.

"Gonna take my cum like the good girl you are?" he asked, satisfied with the many yes, yes, yes, please and another mantra including his name that followed. A touch of his thumb on your clit had you spiraling, and he watched you fall apart, your pussy leaking over his cock as he made you cum. The sight was too good to be true. His balls tightened to a point he needed to let go, and his brows unfurrowed as his cum spilled inside you, pulsing and pushing, making you tremble on top of him. "Fuck," Lando leaned back against the seat, watching his cock still inside your pussy. He pulled out of you slowly, his cum oozing out, but he stopped it by pushing in again. "Wanna get home?" your hands cup his face to kiss his lips. "Mhm," he replied, helping you to sit down in the passenger's seat again. "Should I just sell all the other cars?" he asked while fixing his slacks.

You scoffed while adjusting your dress and locking your seatbelt. "I want to have sex in the Ferrari for the rest of my life if it's going to be this good," he grinned, starting the car after the windows were un-fogged and he could drive off. Lando was paying attention to the road and the traffic until you shifted in the seat next to him. "What are you doing?" he asked, slightly panicked you were lifting your dress again and moving your hands between your thighs while he couldn't do anything. Lando swallowed hard as your spread thighs revealed your pussy - still wet, still leaking. "You said I couldn't get your seats wet," you replied, your fingers trailing down and pushing his juices back inside you. His knuckles turned white from how hard he was holding the steering wheel, stepping on the gas a little more to get home soon.

[not-the-cheese]

one sentence summaries of every TMA episode

(1-60 i'll add more soon)

part 2 up!

world's most effective anti-smoking PSA

man DOES NOT open coffin. everyone claps.

woman is judgemental towards neighbor even though she has hobbies that are just as weird.

book makes multiple people fall off chair.

man finds bag of teeth and decides he absolutely needs to fuck around and find out.

worm sti.

there was a SCARY MAN in the WAR.

fuck this tree

well at least ted bundy was a great father :)

i'm like 55% sure vampires are real and i'm willing to take those odds

bitches be dying. you're next.

we kill this man because he made the soda too warm.

sorry ur husband's dead. maybe get some help.

Unbox with me ! (GONE WRONG)

hah i'm safe from this one because i have decided to Never Go Into a Cave Ever.

man is so annoying about this spider that even his cat can't be bothered

man's bully finds a book about a Bone Turner and subsequently begins turning people's bones.

this guy sucks at DIY home improvement

aw maybe this priest didn't do anything THAT bad!

oh fuck nevermind

THE SKY ATE MY SON.

the worms stole my identity. i haven't left the house in days.

man beats german children at game of bravery and wins a coin (he later loses this coin)

my ex boyfriend gets casted in the muppets and dies

sorry mom, i've abandoned jesus for a new religion : jesus in the dark.

tall squiggly and HANDsome

old man arm wrestles demon through door knob

the buzzfeed unsolved guys finally catch a ghost but it's their sound tech

immortality but at what cost

working at the big meat factory was so traumatizing it made me vegetarian

i go to america and get almost killed by a furry

well if you love that wasp nest so much why don't you MARRY it (and then she did)

antisocial boat crew bands together to exclude one guy from a midnight party. he dies from the rejection.

bone apple teeth

remember when that norwegian guy threw a tantrum about us not digging a hole? turns out we were right to not dig that hole.

babe come over my parents have taken ill and passed away

man fucks around and it costs him everything

HOMOPHOBIC CHINESE VASE

oh god oh fuck the worms are here

thank you for participating in worms! please rate your wormsperience from 1 to 10.

the wormsperience has left me deeply scarred. i'm going to get lost in a tunnel about it.

🎸music makes me loose control🎸

spooky stories to tell at the next police slumber party

child threatens to run away and join the circus one too many times, and now the circus has come to cash in.

these mosquitoes are mad sus

man frequents local barnes and noble and then dies(?) after liking a book too much.

realtor gets eaten by the backrooms twice. it's a terrible shame.

both me and this weird goth dude have an unsatisfying italy vacation

guy who turns people's bones gets a new job where he continues to turn people's bones.

man who should never be allowed to build prisons builds a prison.

Something Big Is In The Water.

what if u heard me about 15 feet behind you fumbling around and calling out ur name 😳 (and we were both prison guards)

i'm going to be honest i didn't retain anything from this episode except that this guy has the silliest old man voice ever

everybody hates the tax man, including these creepy taxidermy animals

hmmgh. ant house.

so turns out being only 55% sure that vampires are real in my career as a vampire hunter has had some consequences.

the only thing keeping you company in space is your abandonment issues

🎶 the snack that smiles back 🎶 (my husband!)

maybe the real treasure was the house siblings we encased in spider web along the way.

your dead brother wrote books about ancient myths and WHAT

Part 2

[nanaslutt]

shameless

ʚ pairing: college fuckbudy au sukuna x reader

ʚ cont: fem reader, fuckbuddies, public sex, degradation, praise, dirty talk, rough sex, biting, manhandling, teasing, protected sex (wrap it before you tap it)

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI (18+)

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ

"Shut up." He groaned against your ear, the pressure of his hand against your mouth getting stronger as he fought your noises. "I said shut up." Sukuna had a strong grip on your hip, using the leverage he had there to yank your hips back against his pelvis, allowing him to bury his cock deep inside you with each thrust.

Just outside the closet, you could hear people calling out for one another. The sound of the basketball hitting the hard ground and squeaky shoes was only backround noise in your head, as the sound of Sukuna's soft grunting and heavy breathing in your ear took over the majority of your senses. Sukuna pressed his lips together when you squeezed your thighs tightly and almost doubled over as his cock hit a deep spot inside you, making you stand on shaky legs.

"Do you want everyone to catch you whoring yourself out in here? Huh?" Sukuna whispered against your ear, his hot breath tickling your skin. Your eyes rolled back in your head, your hands balling into fists against the hardwood of the door in front of you. You tried to shake your head against his palm, doing your best to answer while your mouth was being covered.

"You sure? Cos you sure are being fucking loud." He groaned, slamming his hips into yours as he spoke, making you yelp against his hand. Sukuna pasued his thrusts, burying his cock as deep as he could inside you as he released your hip and grabbed your throat, using both hands on your neck and face to turn your head to the side to face him. It was dark in the closer, save for the sliver of light peeking through the center of the double doors, but that small amount of light was more than enough to see his expression, how irritated he looked.

Sukuna pressed his mouth only a hair length away from his hand that covered your own, his eyes staring into yours like he was trying to look into your soul. His nose scrunched before he tipped his chin up and spoke, "Shut the fuck up." He whispered pointedly, raising his eyebrows as you. You furrowed your eyebrows and whimpered into his hand, feeling a new wave of arousal bubble up in your stomach from his harsh words.

Sukuna practically yanked your head forward again, releasing your neck harshly to grip your hip again. The man started up his ruthless pace once more, the squelching from your cunt now louder than before. Sukuna dropped his head on your shoulder, pressing both of your bodies against the door. You could feel his hard, muscled frame rubbing against your own as he rolled his hips expertly into yours, his cock rubbing your gummy walls just right.

"So fucking tight, you're so tight." He groaned, his hand gripping your hip firmer, sure to leave a bruise for you later. You could only whine and let your body go limp in his hold as he fucked into you how he pleased, using your cunt like his own personal fleshlight. "You sure know how to take a cock, you know that? Just wish you weren't so fucking noisy." He growled before sliding his hand under your skirt and finding you clit with ease.

You hunched forward, your feet shifting as you caught yourself from falling over. You were saved largely from Sukuna pressed so tightly against you. "You're so weak." He insulted, forcing his knee between your legs from behind to keep you steady in case you tried to fall over again. "Just cum, stop trying to run away," Sukuna growled, turning his head into your neck. You felt his teeth scrape over your skin, making you arch your back into him.

Sukuna's breath caught in his throat as you fucked yourself back against him just from that little movement. His thrusts started to grow sloppier, as did his fingers on your clit as he tried to get you there with him. "Gonna cum on my cock in front of all these losers?" Sukuna teased, sucking on your skin between his words. "Look how fucking close they are." He continued, peeking up to look at your expression from the side.

When he saw your eyes were pressed tightly together, his face screwed in displeasure. The hand around your mouth gripped the bottom half of your face firmly, forcing your head up to look through the crack of the closet, just big enough for one of your eyes to look out of. "I said look." He teased, watching you carefully to make sure you opened your eyes as he held your face up. Sukuna winced when he felt your walls squeeze around his cock.

"Oh you like this, huh?" He teased, pressing himself harder against you, all while fucking into you steadily and rubbing your clit in hard, fast circles. You shook your head vehemently, both of your hands leaving the door to grip his thick wrist tightly to ground yourself. "Slut, your body is honest, no need to lie." His name-calling made you feel like you were going to burst at any second.

Your thighs shook around your own, the closer you got the harder it proved to stand on two legs. His body heat and the pressure of him against you was overwhelming, the sounds of the people practicing just feet away from you drowning out in your head as you succumbed to the pleasure he brought you. "Yeah that's right, cum all over my cock, let me feel it."

Sukuna bit your earlobe between his teeth, his tongue poking out between his lips to soothe over the harsh bite as his lips wrapped around it in tandem, the gentler touch making you go dizzy. Sukuna bit down hard on his teeth, the muscles in his jaw bulging under the weight of them as his own eyes fluttered in their sockets. He felt the heat of his high boiling inside him, reading his release in his heavy balls that slapped wetly against your ass.

Your jaw went slack as your orgasm hit you like a tsunami, your body curled in on itself, forcing Sukuna's to follow as your knees gave out and you fell to the ground. Sukuna's moan got caught in his throat as he came, his hand leaving your clit and mouth to wrap tightly around your midsection, keeping your lower half against him as he weakly thrust into you while he released his load, his knees parting around your body as the two of you slowly hit the floor, shaking in each others embrace.

Your own arms wrapped around Sukuna's that held your body as you shook and spasmed while your cunt milked his cock for all it was worth. The small equipment closet was filled with gasps and groans as the two of you fought to catch your breath. Sukuna's hot breath on your shoulder could be felt through your clothes. Even though he was wearing a condom, you could feel how much he came, could feel how he filled the condom up inside you, his balls emptied into it.

He pulled out with a groan, placing one arm on the door in front of him, the other coming behind him to grab his cock and pull off the used condom. "Fuck, get on the pill already, this condom barely holds in shit," Sukuna complained, tucking himself into his pants before he stood behind you, tying the used condom into a knot. "No way, I don't feel like having your cum dripping out of me all day, god knows you wouldn't pull out." You sighed, adjusting your panties back to cover your ruined cunt on the ground.

Sukuna leaned down and hoisted you up from under your arms, his hands curling around your body and pressing your back against him once you were steady. "You would love that shit, whore." He teased, finishing his sentence with a laugh as you jabbed your elbow back into his stomach, forcing him to release you as you fixed yourself, leaving the man still laughing to himself.

"How long until their practice is over? It's too hot in here." You complained, fixing your hair the best you could with minimal light and no mirror. "Just walk out." Sukuna shrugged, saying it like it was obvious. You were about to shoot his stupid idea down before he pushed you out of the way and unlocked the door, pushing the large swinging door open with no care in the world.

The boys playing basketball were too absorbed in the game to notice your presence as Sukuna stepped out and started walking on the outside of the court like he didn't just get done fucking you in there. You stood behind the door watching him walk out without a care in the world, only pausing his pace when he realized you weren't behind him. "Hurry up." He grunted, hands in his pockets. You shook your head, sighing as you responded. "Fucking shameless."

[obsesssedblerd]

PLS PLS PLS DO A FIC WHERE GOJO AND Y/N ADOPT THE FIRST YEARS BASED ON THAT SMAU PLSSSSSSS

I GOT YOU ANON!!!! oh, i've been dying to write this one!

Filling the Empty Spaces 

Synopsis: You always thought that the house that you and your new husband, Satoru, lived in was way too big. One night after a rough mission, the both of you decide to keep an eye on Yuuji, Megumi, and Nobara as they recover. You grow to love their company, and realize that they fit so perfectly not just in your house, but also your life.

Wc: 5.1k

Contains: teeth-rotting fluff, soft husband! gojo, yuuji no longer being sukuna’s vessel, gojo and reader are married, reader has a technique but it’s not explained, reader used to be a teacher but quit, gojo and reader adopting the first years, only a dash of angst, pregnancy (but only at the end), some suggestiveness but no smut, everyone is happy bc i said so. (gege don’t ever let me catch you)

a/n: this has to be the sweetest thing i’ve ever written in my life lol. also this is barely proof-read, so sorry for any mistakes!

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

Even with all of yours and Satoru’s belongings, the house that was left for him was still insanely huge. Your footsteps echo in the hallway as you mentally count the empty spaces. Three empty bedrooms, three empty bathrooms, another large room that could be considered a second living room. You knew it was big; Satoru said it was prior to you two getting married and moving in, but you wondered if you’d ever get used to having that much extra space. 

“Oh, wifeyyyy,” Satoru calls out to you in his usual, sing-songy tone, his voice echoing throughout the hallway. “Where are you?” 

“Near the kitchen!” You call back to him. 

Your tall and handsome husband appears not even a minute later. The corner of his mouth pulls upwards into a smirk as he sees you sitting on the counter of the kitchen island. “Well, hello there, Mrs. Gojo.” 

Your heart stutters in your chest, and you cast your eyes downward. “It’s gonna take a while before I get used to that.” You smile and lift up your left hand, allowing the gorgeous diamond on your fourth finger to glimmer in the sunlight that filled the space. “I still can’t believe it.” 

Satoru steps in front of you and grabs your hand, bringing it to his mouth and placing a small kiss on your palm. “Believe it, pretty girl,” he says, his cerulean eyes meeting yours. He takes your other hand, then tugs upward so your arms are around his neck, his own hands settling on your hips. Your fingers brush against his undercut, then play with his soft white hair. “After all.” His voice dips to a sensual purr as his face inches closer. “I did tell you that I was going to make you my wife, didn’t I?” 

He kisses you, and you sigh blissfully into his mouth as your eyes shut. Despite being practically glued to him during your two-week honeymoon on a beautiful island, you still craved him. His hand barely slides underneath your shirt before his phone starts ringing. He groans, and you giggle as he pulls away and grabs his phone out of his pocket. “Work?” You ask. 

“Work. However, it’s Yuuji, not Yaga.” Satoru answers and begins talking while you hop off of the counter and decide to make both of you some tea. It wouldn’t be long before the sun begins to set, so you start thinking about what to make for dinner. 

You look over to see Satoru’s brows furrowed. “Ah, I see,” he said to Yuuji on the other line. “Well, good to hear that you made it back to the school safely. Are you three alright? Megumi went to see Shoko for that injury?” 

That worries you. From the sound of it, the first years went on another dangerous mission this afternoon. You knew that Kento Nanami was watching them, but with three students and dangerous curses, anything could happen. “I think I’ve come across a curse like that before,” Satoru says. “You get sick only after it hits you with that goo. Since you and Nobara only got a bit of it on you, you won’t die. However, it still concerns me. One second, okay?” 

He tilts the phone away from him and turns to look at you. “Megumi got injured. Shoko healed him but needs to rest for at least a few days. Yuuji and Nobara might also become sick.”

Your heart sinks. Yuuji, Megumi and Nobara were just kids. You remember battling curses as a teen alongside Satoru and Suguru Geto before he became a curse-user, but becoming an adult and watching the next generation of students throw themselves into battle gave you an entirely different feeling. Around two months ago, Yuuji officially separated from Ryomen Sukuna and was freed from the burden of being his vessel; but you were getting a feeling that he still wanted to prove himself as a sorcerer by going on tough missions, all so he could stay around. 

“They’re gonna need someone to keep an eye on them for a while. Everyone else at the school is busy,” you say, and Satoru nods. You pause on making the tea, then make a decision. “Alright, have Ichiji bring them here. We have plenty of space, as you can see, and I can help them out while you’re at work over the next few days.” 

After all, the first years didn’t have anyone else. 

Satoru kisses your forehead, then tells Yuuji the plan. Meanwhile, you double-check the three empty rooms and bathrooms. Each of them had freshly made beds, clean bathrooms and some decorative furniture—thanks to the housekeeping that maintained this house before you and Satoru moved in. 

While you were thinking hard about some extra items that you didn’t have, Satoru comes up behind you and places his hands on your shoulders, which immediately slump under his touch. You sigh as he rubs the tension from them. “Baby, whatever we don’t have, and they need it, we can just buy it. Yuuji’s telling them to pack enough clothes for a while. Just relax. It’ll be okay.” 

Right. It’ll be fine. 

— — — — —

When Yuuji, Megumi, and Nobara arrive, your face splits into a wide smile. You haven’t seen them since you and Satoru got married. A rush of movement, and the pink-haired teenager is hugging you tight, excitedly rambling about how much he missed you. The brown-haired girl is next, and Nobara literally squeals as she hugs you. Finally, the dark-haired teen, who is much calmer than his fellow first years. However, he doesn’t shy away when you hug him gently—being careful not to touch his side that was injured in battle—and he mumbles that it’s good to see you. 

“Wow, this house is huge!” Nobara exclaims as she wanders around the kitchen, then the living room. 

As always, Yuuji matches her high energy. “No kidding. There’s like a million rooms in this place!” 

Satoru chuckles. He was dressed in his usual uniform and blindfold, leaning against the wall of the living room with his hands shoved into his pockets. “I’m glad you like it. This place was left for me. I knew that I wanted to move in here only if I got married. For a while, I thought I’d never touch it. Then I met that lovely sorcerer over there.” 

Your cheeks heat, and the students ‘aw’ over his words. The oven dings, and you spring up. “Great, dinner’s done. Give me some time to set up.” 

Satoru and Nobara sit with Megumi on the couch in the living room to watch TV, and Yuuji follows you to help set the table in the dining room. “You don’t want to go sit down?” You ask, reaching over to ruffle the boy’s hair. “You’ve had a long day.” 

“It’s okay, I wanna help. Besides, it’s been so long since I’ve seen you. I missed talking with you.” 

Your heart swells. You pass him some plates and some silverware, and he stacks it so he can take it to the table. “How are you holding up?” You ask as you pull the food you prepared out of the oven. 

“Doing good. It definitely feels nice not having his voice in my head anymore,” he says from the dining room, neatly arranging the dishes. Five plates, five glasses, five sets of silverware. “Or worrying about him taking my body at any second. Just knowing that no one has to deal with him ever again brings me so much peace.” 

“I’m so proud of you.” You take off of your oven mitts and walk towards him. “So is Satoru and the rest of your teachers, and so is your grandfather. He’d be happy knowing that you’re still helping people by fighting curses.” 

That makes Yuuji pause. His smile is still there, but it wobbles at the corners. He turns away from you to hide his face, but the tremble in his shoulders is impossible for him to conceal. “Yuuji,” you call softly, and he sniffles, still turned around. Your heart aches, and you pull him to you. He immediately wraps his arms around you as his head settles onto your chest, his body shaking as he sobs quietly. You were thankful that the TV was on in the living room so he could have this moment privately. 

“It’s okay to cry,” you whisper as you stroke his hair. “Everything’s alright. You’re brave, but it’s okay to break down, too.” 

“Only reason I‘m alive is because you and Gojo-sensei fought against my execution.” He uses a sleeve of his jacket to wipe his tears. “I’ll be honest. There were so many times where I thought I wasn’t going to make it, or if it would be impossible to be separated from Sukuna without hurting anyone else. But you two had so much hope for me, and it pushed me to keep fighting.” 

Tears fill your eyes, and you blink them back. “I’ll always fight for you, you hear me?” Yuuji nods, and you let him hug you for as long as you like. 

Unbeknownst to you, Satoru watches you both from the living room with a gentle smile. 

— — — — — 

Dinner is filled with fun stories, jokes, and plenty of laughter. Once everyone has finished eating, Satoru and Yuuji do the dishes while you and Nobara help Megumi into one of the spare rooms after his shower. 

“The bed’s super comfortable,” Megumi says, not fighting a single bit when you cover him with the blanket. “Thank you.” 

“You better get some rest, Fushiguro,” Nobara says seriously as she crosses her arms. “Shoko said four days.” 

“She’s right,” Yuuji comments as he walks into the room, sitting next to her on the edge of Megumi’s bed. “Not a single hour before.” 

Megumi frowns. “You both are being dramatic.”

“Look, if Kugisaki and I have to lock you in here so you can rest, then that’s exactly what we’ll do.” 

“Yup!” Nobara agrees with her usual grin, popping the p for extra dramatics. “And if that doesn’t work, we’ll just call the Gojos. Do you really want to get lectured by them?” 

That makes you laugh. “Alright, you two, I think he gets it.” You gently fix Megumi’s hair—noting that his eyes were beginning to droop with exhaustion—then stand up. “Besides, you both might also be on bedrest. You did get hit by that curse earlier, and Satoru said that the effects won’t kick in until tomorrow. So it’s important that you two get plenty of sleep as well.” 

Yuuji and Nobara say goodnight to Megumi, then the three of you leave his room. You decide to take your shower, making a mental list of groceries to buy for tomorrow now that the first years were staying with you for a few days. When you exit the bathroom in some sleepwear, you hear quiet giggling and snickering coming from the kitchen. You scoff, put on your house slippers and go investigate. 

First, you see your husband’s white hair in the dimly-lit kitchen. You flip on the light switch, and burst out laughing at the sight. Satoru, Yuuji, and Nobara were stuffing their faces with cupcakes, all dressed in their pajamas. They were Satoru’s favorite, and he requested them from you every chance he got. “Now, what is going on here?” You ask. 

“His idea,” Nobara attempts to mumble with her mouth full as she points at Satoru. Yuuji immediately nods in agreement and also points at his teacher. Satoru only shrugs with his usual smile, using a thumb to wipe away the blue icing on his lips before licking it clean. Then he offers you one. “Here, have one. They’re delicious.” 

“No, silly, it’s late.” You put the cupcake back in its container, then hand the two teens a napkin. “And you two should be getting some rest. Megumi’s already fast asleep.” 

Surprisingly, they don’t put up a fight. You happily do skincare with Nobara in the bathroom of the bedroom that she was using, and you both make plans to go shopping for some face masks once they’re all feeling better. When she finishes moisturizing her face, she gives you another hug. “Missed you,” she mumbles into your shoulder. 

“Aw, sweetheart,” you sigh as you return the hug. “I’ve missed you as well. Was it a long few weeks for you?” 

“Well, kinda,” she says as she pulls away, then goes to sit on her bed. “I know you and Gojo-sensei were on your honeymoon, and we expected that, but we’re all just getting used to the fact that you’ve officially quit working at the school. We support it, but it sucks knowing that we’re not going to see you as much.” 

The thinly-veiled sadness in her eyes makes your gut twist. Of course they were going to miss you. You saw them and worked with them every single day. “Nobara, I’m always going to be here for you. Just because I no longer work there, that doesn’t mean I still can’t visit or even help out with you three.” 

Nobara rests her head on your shoulder, and you rub a comforting hand up and down her back. “Promise?” she asks quietly. 

“I promise.” 

When she goes to bed, you leave her room and shut the door behind you. Finally, you walk to Yuuji’s room, which is still lit up. You get to the doorway, and you hide a laugh when you see that he fell asleep almost immediately after laying down. More than likely got more comfortable than he thought when he tested the bed. You adjust the pillow so it’s under his head, pull the blanket over his body, mess with his hair once more, then switch the lamp off so he can rest. You leave, then shut the door. 

“They all fell asleep so quickly,” you say to Satoru once you walk into your spacious, shared bedroom. You climb into bed next to him, sighing when you feel the soft, silk sheets against your skin. Like every night, he tugs you into his large, muscular arms, and you rest your head against his chest. 

This was your favorite spot to be; in the arms of the strongest, most powerful man in the whole world. Satoru was protective in every sense of the word. Nothing would ever happen to you as long as you were with him. 

“I’m certain that those rooms are much more comfortable than the dorms at the school,” he says. You feel his hand rubbing soothing patterns against your arm. “So, what’s your plan for tomorrow?” 

“Keeping an eye on them. I’m almost one hundred percent positive that they’re all going to be sleeping most of the day.” You then press a kiss against Satoru’s jaw. “And when you get home from work tomorrow, I expect you to rest, too. I know you’re dealing with the higher-ups.” 

“Eh, who cares about them?” Satoru scoffs. “I tune them out.” 

“Yeah, you really gotta stop doing that.” 

— — — — — — — — 

Your morning starts early. You’re barely awake when you feel Satoru kiss your cheek, whispering in your ear that he loves you and that he’ll see you after work. You sleep for about another half-hour, then decide to get up. After brushing your teeth, you walk down the hallway leading to the kitchen. The sun is already shining through the large windows of the sunroom, and you pause in your tracks when you see Megumi, silently reading one of the many books you kept in there. 

He’s sitting on a bean bag chair towards the corner of the room, and you notice two more books on the ground next to him. When he sees you staring, he sits up and shuts the book. “Sorry.” The apology comes out in a faint, yet frantic rush. “I-I was just curious, and I’ve never seen a huge collection like this, and—” 

“Megumi.” Your soft voice stops him, and his shoulders slump in relief when he sees you smile and sit in the bean bag chair adjacent to his. “It’s alright. Books are meant to be read. I’m just happy you found this room. I thought you might like it.” 

“It’s so peaceful here,” he comments as he looks around slowly, taking in the beauty of your favorite room in the house. One wall is lined with books, neatly organized on floor-to-ceiling, wall-to-wall shelves. There is also a tall ladder that slides smoothly across the shelves, which aids you whenever a book is placed far too high. The rest of the room is filled with bean bag chairs, plants, and a few small, decorative statues. 

You tilt your head to get a closer look at the book in his hand. “What are you reading?” 

“A sci-fi,” he says, “I’ve kind of been interested in them since watching Human Earthworm with Itadori.” 

“Ah.” You stand up, drag the ladder towards the middle of the shelves, then climb up to retrieve a duology. “I think you’ll like this series, then. In addition to the books you also have with you.” 

Megumi rubs the back of his head bashfully. “I hope I’ll have enough time to get through these,” he says, then yawns. “And energy. Still tired even though I slept for a while.” 

“Your body needs rest, and it’s okay. You can keep the books until you’re finished. Take your time.” 

Megumi smiles at that. It’s small, but it’s there, and you love it. “Thank you.” 

“Of course.” 

— — — — — — 

Like you expected, Yuuji and Nobara weren’t feeling good that morning. They had some body aches, chills and a light cough. Luckily, they had you to look after them. You prepared soup for the three of them, and you made sure they were comfortable and hydrated. When Satoru returned from work, he gave all three of them medicine to help with any pain. The both of you kept an eye on them as they slept. 

Over the next few days, they were all feeling better, however, both you and Satoru kept making excuses to keep them for another day. What if their cold comes back? Or, Maybe Shoko miscalculated and Megumi needed a few more days to fully recover?

Even when the first years were well enough to start going on missions again, Satoru had made it a habit to bring them back with him at the end of the day. You’ve also made new habits since the first years entered your home. Every morning, you would make breakfast for everyone to enjoy at the table. You loved seeing Yuuji, Megumi, and Nobara’s smiles, or hearing them groan whenever Satoru made a joke that was just a little too cheesy. And their hugs. Oh, you loved their hugs. You hugged them before they went off to jujutsu high with Satoru each morning, and you hugged them each night before bed. 

After about six weeks, you were so used to them being over every night; so much to the point that you and Satoru stared at Yuuji in confusion when he asked if you were tired of them. Both of you had never said, “No,” so fast in your lives.

Not only were you used to it, you loved it. You loved sitting quietly in the sunroom with Megumi, enjoying each other’s company while reading your respective books. You loved listening to Yuuji’s wild stories about his epic adventures as a sorcerer, even better when Satoru joined in and helped him with the dramatics. You loved doing face masks and painting your nails with Nobara. You were pretty sure you spent up to a few hours each week in the bathroom with her, laughing joyfully and listening to music as you played around with cosmetics. 

You loved movie nights with the five of you sitting together on the couch, passing popcorn and other treats amongst each other. You loved it when each of the teens came to you about what was bothering them. By the second month, all of them had trusted you enough to cry around you. You loved comforting them—being a sorcerer is hard and gruesome, and anyone would need support. You loved holding them, wiping their tears, and feeling them settle when you reassure them that you and Satoru would keep them safe. You loved seeing them play silly games in the spacious backyard. Sometimes, you and Satoru joined them so you could have fun with them. 

Before any one of you knew it, five months of this had passed. 

At that point, Yuuji, Megumi, and Nobara’s dorms back at the school were practically deserted, and the once-empty guest bedrooms of yours and Satoru’s home were filled with their belongings. Clothes, shoes, books, posters, souvenirs, trinkets, and photographs. You and your husband never did hold back when it came to spoiling them, whether with materials or experiences. You had noticed that the three of them were glowing. Louder laughs, smiles that reach their eyes, sleeping better, feeling more comfortable, and overall, looking much happier. 

“They feel loved,” Nanami had told you once you explained it to him on a day you went to visit the school. “Everyone glows when they feel loved.” 

— — — — — 

“We should adopt them.” 

At Satoru’s words, you look up from your book to face him. He’s laying down in your shared bed, facing the ceiling with an arm tucked behind his head. It is nearly midnight, and you are the only ones awake in the house. “Really?” You ask, unable to hide your smile. You shut your book and put it on the bedside table. This was a conversation that you’ve been hoping to have for a while. Finally, you’re talking about adopting those three and officially having them as your kids.

“Yeah.” He sighs as he sits up. “I like having them here, and I can tell that you do, too. I can also tell that they like being here. They’re much more relaxed. Yuuji and Nobara are sleeping so much better, and plus, I don’t think I’ve ever seen Megumi smile so much.” 

“I love having them here,” you say. You reach for his hand, and he clasps it with yours, intertwining your fingers together. “I don’t want them to ever go back to that school. They’re so happy here. I want to keep them happy. Besides, if we adopt them, I’m pretty sure that would keep the higher-ups from deciding to toss them into reckless missions simply because they have no legal guardian. They’d have to go through us first, right?” 

“They’d have to go through us first regardless.” Satoru then chuckles. “Have you been wanting to talk about adopting them, pretty girl? You seem like you’ve put so much thought into this.”

“You have no idea.” 

“I wish you said something sooner. Honestly, we could’ve done this a few months ago.” 

You kiss his cheek, then rest your chin on his shoulder. “Well,” you start, “I remember you saying that you were hesitant about starting a family towards the beginning of our relationship a few years back. I didn’t know if your mind had changed or not. Adopting three teenagers falls into that category.” 

“Ah, so that’s why you never talked about it recently,” he says with a thoughtful hum. “Before we got together, I didn’t know how I felt about having a family, simply because I got to a point where I could never see myself having such a thing. But, then I fell in love with you, and in love with life with you. I’d love to start a family with you.” He kisses your hand, then continues, “And I’m not just talking about adopting Yuuji, Megumi, and Nobara.”

You gasp lightly, and your heart begins to race in excitement. You lift your head, then turn your body so you’re directly in front of him. “Satoru.” Your voice comes out in a barely-audible whisper. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?” 

Gentleness glimmers in his blue eyes, and he uses a hand to stroke your cheek. You instinctively lean into the touch, and his thumb wipes away the tear that barely slides from the corner of your eye. “If you want to,” he starts, “and if you’re ready, I’d love to have a baby with you.” 

You think you’re dreaming. You feel like your body’s about to explode. It takes everything not to squeal loudly and wake up the teens. You smile and nod, wiping away the tears of joy before they blur your vision any further. “I’d love that, too.” 

Satoru leans in and kisses you. It’s slow, loving and so very gentle. He slightly trembles, and you open your eyes to see that he was also tearing up from the happiness. “I love you.” His voice is low, yet shaky. “I love you so fucking much.” He kisses you again, then moves from your mouth, slowly down your neck. “I’ll take care of you. All of you.” He gently pushes you back against the sheets, and you sigh as his hands trail down your body. You wrap your arms around his neck to pull him closer. 

“All five of you.” 

— — — — — 

“So, you wanted to talk with us?” Yuuji asks. 

You, Satoru, and the teens all sit on the luxurious couch in the living room the next morning. Since there’s no missions for them, they get to relax at home. All three of them were still cozy in their pajamas, and they finished eating their breakfast not too long ago. 

“Yes,” you say as you sit up. “So, it’s been five months of you all staying here.” 

At once, Yuuji, Megumi, and Nobara stiffen, then share grim looks with each other. It confuses you, and before you can ask about it, Nobara sits up. She gulps hard, and you know from her staying with you for so long that it’s because she’s trying to choke back tears so they wouldn’t form in her eyes. “It’s okay,” she says, “we understand. We knew that this would be a temporary thing.” 

“Huh?” Satoru asks, also confused. You can tell that his brows are furrowed underneath his blindfold. “What’re you—” 

“I mean, five months is a lot. We get it. You didn’t have to keep us for this long, but you did. Thank you,” Megumi says. 

Yuuji nods with a smile, but you know it’s a fake one. It makes your heart ache. “Just know that we’re extremely grateful for everything.” 

“Every last bit of it. Thank you so much,” Nobara chimes in. 

“Okay, all of you, stop.” Your voice is firm, and it silences them all at once. Megumi is facing the ground to hide his face, Yuuji’s fake smile fades as he casts his eyes downward, and Nobara looks over at the wall, nervously chewing at her lip. “This isn’t what you think it is. Satoru and I don’t want you three to leave.” 

Now it’s their turn to look confused. However, they’re all finally looking directly at you, and that makes you feel a little bit better. “We were going to ask if you’d like to make it permanent, because we’d love to adopt you three.” 

They gasp, and their eyes widen in shock. It’s silent for a few beats, then Nobara faintly asks, “...What?” 

Satoru chuckles, then claps his hands together once. “Aw, c’mon, Nobara! Surely, you know what ‘permanent’ means!” You roll your eyes. Adding humor to make a situation less tense was such a Satoru Gojo thing to do.

The teens still look in shock. “So…” Megumi starts, his voice barely above a whisper. “You’d be our parents?” 

“Yes,” you reply with a smile. 

Nobara sniffles, and you look over at her to see that she’s no longer holding back her tears. “And- And we’d be your kids?” Her voice is also quiet. Yuuji, on the other hand, is much louder with his question. “And these two would be my siblings?!” 

You giggle, then nod again. “Yes, one hundred percent yes. I know it’s sudden, and if you all need time to think about it—” 

“Yes!!” Nobara practically screams, then runs over to hug you and Satoru as she begins sobbing. A split second later, Yuuji is there too, also hugging you tight. Megumi joins last, and the five of you remain there, embracing each other. Embracing your husband, your two new sons and your new daughter. Your eyes shut as you laugh with joy, unaware of your own tears. 

— — — — — — 

Six months later 

“So yeah, that’s the story of how Mom and Dad adopted us,” Yuuji concludes, then places his hand against your swollen tummy. “Pretty cool, right?” 

As if responding, ‘Yes,’ the baby within you gently kicks. “Ha!” Yuuji exclaims excitedly, then grins over at Megumi and Nobara. “I told you that they like my voice!” 

Nobara rolls her eyes. “Oh, please, Yuuji, they like all of our voices, but they like mine the most.” Now she puts her hand against your stomach, leaning close so the baby could hear her better. “Right, sweets? Isn’t your big sister your favorite sibling?” 

Two light kicks. Yuuji gasps in surprise while Nobara cackles victoriously. Megumi scoffs at their foolishness, and you laugh. 

“I won’t lie though,” Megumi says. “I’m curious about what technique they’re going to have.” 

“Yeah, will it be Mom’s or Dad’s?” Yuuji asks. 

You shrug. “We don’t know yet.” 

The front door opens, and you hear Satoru call out, “I’m home!” as he walks towards the living room where all of you were sitting. Like every day, he gives Yuuji, Megumi, and Nobara hugs as he asks about their days, then comes to you. He kisses your forehead, then your tummy. “Hey, little one,” he quietly coos. “Hope you didn’t give mama too much trouble today.” 

“No vomiting today, so, yeah, they did pretty good.” You gently stroke his cheek. “Missed you today. How was work?” 

“Yeah, how was work?” Nobara asks excitedly. “Any special grade curses?” 

“Eh, nothing like that today,” Satoru says as he sits in between you and Megumi, ruffling the boy’s hair. “However, the second years are starting to plan a surprise party for Okkotsu’s birthday. I passed the word to the rest of the staff, and now I’m letting you all know about it.” 

Megumi nods as he settles back into the comfortable couch cushion. “Inumaki did text me about that earlier.”

“This is going to be so fun!” Yuuji exclaims. 

“Yeah, as long as we don’t leave you in charge of handling the cake like we did for Nanamin’s birthday last year, since you like to drop them,” Nobara scoffs. 

“Oh, come on! That was one time!” 

Megumi tsks, and shakes his head. “One time is too many.” 

As they playfully squabble, you and Satoru watch them with soft smiles. His blindfold was lowered, so you got to see the pure love and happiness in his eyes. He finally has the family that he once dreamed of as a child. You lean on his shoulder, and he kisses your cheek. 

Finally, your house was full, and so was your heart.

[deadsetobsessions]

Some night, he flew above the twinkling lights of Blüdhaven’s buildings, wind rushing through his hair and the feeling of weightlessness pushing at the curve of his back.

There were a multitude of things that Dick Grayson appreciated, loved, Bruce for. One of those things would always be that his adopted dad allowed him to fly once more, even after his parents’ wings were cut.

In the air, he was home.

In the air, Dick Grayson felt like he was living up to, flying alongside, the Flying Graysons. Every flip, every trick he used to go faster, to fight better, felt like his parents were there guiding his every move.

Time healed his hurt, but still, the hole in his heart remained.

So when one of his best friends, a ghost vigilante by the name Phantom, asked him if he wanted to see his parents, he froze like a deer in bright white headlights.

“What…?”

Phantom did a flip in midair. “Wanna see your parents? They’ve been asking if they could talk to you.”

“My parents… are ghosts?” That was the least pressing question he had right now, but it was all his mouth could speak.

“Kind of. It’s complicated,” Phantom side-eyed him. “It would require going into the zone.”

And just like that, Dick understood. After the Amity Park came onto the map and the Justice League fixed the human and alien and meta rights violations that were happening right under their nose, Phantom had permanently closed all access to the Zone. Save, of course, for himself and a few magic users, who all refused to anger the King of the Dead.

“The only way you’re getting to my people now, is through me. Should anyone try to get into the zone, without my permission… I will make sure that you and your family’s afterlives will pay the appropriate price.”

No-one wanted to test his threat. The afterlife is something few fucked with and came back whole.

The Phantom they’d seen on the news then was incredibly different than the one in front of him now. Dick knows, understands now, that it was because Phantom trusted him. After years of being denied help, years of struggling all by himself to keep reality from collapsing while avoiding getting experimented on by humans understandably closed his heart.

“You’d take me into the Zone?” Dick didn’t know what he was feeling. Hope, fear, trust, touched, happiness, something.

A lot of things.

Danny shrugged. “Yeah. I trust you,” he said as he glanced back at Dick-at Nightwing. “Only you, though. No one else.”

The question that remained was whether Dick trusted Phantom too. And considering the fact that the ghost king ironically saved his ass from being killed a couple of times meant, “Yeah. I- I’d love to.”

Danny smiled, all pointed teeth and solemn trust. “Okay. Let’s go.”

“Now?!” Dick stood up anyways, his heart in his throat. Danny held out a gloved hand.

“Yeah, now. Haven’t you heard that death waits for no one?” At Dick’s concerned look, Danny added, “Don’t worry. You won’t actually die. You’ll come back whole and alive, I promise.”

“Oh, okay. Let’s go, then!”

——

Clark Kent threw himself out of the window, Superman suit already on.

Seonds later, he was hovering in front of Bruce’s shadowy form on top of a gargoyle.

“Clark,” Batman greeted in his gravelly voice, irritated. “What.”

“Batman, Nightwing’s heartbeat- it disappeared!”

Bruce’s heartbeat stuttered.

[envy-of-the-apple]

ive been really obsessed with your gojo/geto naga oneshots and asks lately it feels like literal brain rot at this point its so good. ive reread it 6 times lol

i was wondering though, what would Geto do if Gojo was just a little bit too heavy handed with you? to the point of a sprained or broken arm or leg. Would he get mad at Gojo or just mad in general that reader was hurt? Also how would they act in response to the injured reader who can't do basic tasks themselves, I personally think they would enjoy the fact she relied on them even more to even move now.

Reminder requests are still closed!!!! I just love this idea so so much holdon lemme-

Part one Part three

(Yandere, dark, implied forced relationships, noncon touching, biting, language barriers, drugging(?))

Top of the Food Chain pt2

Dark!Naga!SatoSugu x reader

Two days later, Satoru still wasn't allowed inside the cave.

You can hear him, hissing and clicking, right outside, hovering just behind the invisible line Suguru refused to let him pass. If you weren't already in so much pain, you would have found pity on the poor thing. He wasn't allowed in his own home, even though the incident wasn't entirely his fault.

Technically, Satoru saved you. It was yet again another escape attempt. Something you'd been doing a lot these days once you've figured out these beings' intentions with you. You'd gotten past the rock quarry this time, a new record. Your plan was filled with holes: there was no way to truly escape the island. You had no boat, no way to call for help. Still, you ran, forgetting that there were more dangerous things on this island other than two territorial serpent men.

It was a monster. There was no other way to describe it. Big, ugly, shiny spikes and sharp teeth, eyes dripping with bloodlust. You would have been eaten, killed, maimed, if Satoru hadn't caught up with you in time.

The only collateral was the loss of nearby plant life and your broken wrist.

That had been Satoru's fault. He'd pulled at you too hard at the hand. The remnants of adrenaline from the fight, his anger, anger made him too rough on your fragile body. He froze at the wet snap, and then you started screaming. That was how Suguru had found you. Despite how much Satoru clicked and hummed and tittered, from his mate's look, you doubted it helped his case.

Another lonely coo made you wince. Suguru only huffed, wrapping you tighter in his coils. They were already warm from your body heat. The numerous animal pelts helped your comfort too.

"Make him stop," you beg, "he's been going on for hours."

At that, Suguru lifts his head from the base of your neck. He tilts his head as he surveys you, and you can't help but think how awful you must look. Sickly-looking from the pain, clammy skin. He can't do much about your appearance, but the least he could do was shut Satoru up.

"What want?" Suguru asks, "water?"

At that, he picks up a sack filled with sea-smelling water. You wrinkle your nose, turning away, cocooning yourself within his coils. With the increased pain, your appetite has decreased, as well as your thirst. The stress of being trapped like this along with your broken wrist was starting to take its toll on your body.

Suguru makes a sound of disapproval, shuffling around behind you. You know he's still mad about the escape attempt, but he's concerned enough for your well-being to put his anger to the side for now. He'd helped wrap your wrist, using something stretchy and soft.

You raise your wrist up, inspecting the thin material wrapped around your wrist. You're not sure what it is, it's too silky to resemble cotton. It must be from the foliage around the island. Yet, another strange thing you'd never find the answer to.

There's another rumble coming from the Naga's chest. He wraps a hand around your chin, bringing your face closer. In his other, he holds the dripping sack.

"Suguru," it's too soft to be anything more than a whine, "it hurts too much to take anything right now. Stop."

"Hurt?" he asks.

To that, you gesture to your broken wrist. It may not have been broken, you were no doctor, so you couldn't say for certain. But considering you'd been in the same amount of pain for two days, it really didn't matter to you.

A click, before he's tossing a glare at the entrance of the cave. He'd already given Satoru a beating right before coming to coddle you. Despite being bigger than his mate, Satoru is docile enough to take them. Suguru had been acting more aggressive lately. You had a feeling it was your fault.

He'd been inspecting your wrist every so often, but you see a different look within his brown eyes now as he takes your injured hand. He carefully turns your palm over, pressing slightly into your wrist. When you yelp, he retracts.

"Hurt." Suguru confirms. You can only nod.

"Hurt. No drink? No eat?" You don't like the way he's talking. As if he's putting a puzzle piece together. Coming to a solution you won't like.

When you go to pull away, his grip only tightens.

"No hurt," he says it like a promise, as though you're a toddler and he's coaxing you into drinking a sour-tasting medicine. His lips part, revealing the fangs you've often seen him use on meat, on Satoru.

Never did you think he'd ever use them on you.

"Suguru," you're pleading, trying to move away when he bends down, his hair brushing your sweaty forehead. You can feel his breath on your neck.

"No hurt," he repeats, and then he bites down.

He lied, of course, he did. His teeth puncture your skin, tearing through like paper. You think you screamed, or maybe it was more akin to a pitiful whimper. In the background, you can hear someone hiss, Satoru maybe?

For a second, you feel everything, the pain, the puncture wound, Suguru lightly licking your neck.

And then, you feel weightless.

It's hard to describe, but your brain feels like it's turned to mush. Your body feels like you're on a soft cloud, just there, floating. In the back of your mind, you remember how dazed Satoru would get whenever Suguru bit him. At the time, you just thought he was lovestruck.

When Suguru pulls away, he's smiling. A trail of blood, your blood goes down his lip. You can barely keep your eyes on him, close to falling asleep.

"No hurt," he says. When he leans down to kiss you, you accept without a single fuss.

You don't remember much after that, but you remember accepting whatever Suguru put in your mouth. The panic in your body was non-existent as he held the water-sack above your lips, watching as your throat bobbed. You think he kissed you a few more times, but you're not too sure. You were a lot more averse to kissing before. It'd make sense he'd take advantage of it.

When you wake up again, you're in between two bodies. The pain in your wrist is still there, but not as horrible as before. You're still groggy, mind fuzzy. Whatever Suguru had given you was still in effect.

Satoru is the first to notice you're awake. Suguru and him must have made up during the time you were unconscious. He props himself up, peering down at you. With how dim the cave is, you can barely make out his features. He looks just as guilty as he had two days ago.

"Sorry," he mutters, "is sorry."

If you weren't still high, you might have laughed. When you continue to stare, he takes it in stride, leaning forward to kiss your cheek, then your lips. You wince in distaste, leaning back.

"Stop," you say but don't fight when he licks at your jaw. You can barely move your fingers.

Panic is still far away, a distant call than anything alarming. It should worry you, but you still can't feel anything.

Suguru is at your back. You can hear his scales move across the cavern floor. He gives a hum, content as he curls himself around you. He doesn't seem to mind Satoru's touches. Your theory that they must have made up is unfortunately starting to strengthen.

You could barely manage Suguru's coddlings. You don't think you'll survive Satoru's.

"Sorry," he mouths into your neck. You can feel the grip on your waist starting to tighten. He stops, rising up to stare at you.

Blue, almost glowing.

"But no more leave."

You're coherent enough to piece together what he means. You can't escape Satoru. You can't escape Suguru. You can't leave this island. Running away is useless.

The nagas understood it. It's time you did too.

"Yes," you finally say, "no more leave."

[rafeandonlyrafe]

cherry

words: 2.5k

warnings: 18+ only! smut, stripper!reader, prostitution, protected blowjob, protected p in v sex

“that hot guy is back again.” sugar says, pulling back the curtain just an inch, pointing into the crowd.

“ugh, he is so fine.” you whine. “we never get hot guys in here.” it’s your number one problem with your new strip club, in a much different area than your last, therefore attracting a far different crowd, mainly, an older one.

“girl, i know. everyone wants to take him into the back.” sugar raises his eyebrows, knowing you share her proclivity for taking clients into the back rooms to get an personal “dance.”

“it’s gonna be a fight for who he picks.” you giggle, quickly closing the curtain when the strip club house mom walks into the backstage area.

“i know i’m going right to him when lapdances start, but so is every other girl.” sugar says, adjusting the bra she’s wearing.

“if he stays, remember he left after the shows last time.” you point out. he stayed for all the girls to do their solo shows, but by the time lapdances and duos and trios came out, he was gone.

“good point, cherry.” sugar nods, using your stripper name, which is always a bit of a shock when its the girls doing it, but you learned quickly here that its a sign of respect to keep your real name out of the workplace at this club, so you quickly adapted to only using stripper names.

“alright girls, music is starting!” the house mom shouts out. you are later on in the set, so you head back to your station and adjust your costume for the night, a cherry red number to fit your name, matching your nail polish and lipstick. 

you wait until its your turn to go on, hearing the music play and waiting for the right beat to walk out, the club letting out a cheer as you strut onto the stage. the routine is an old one that you’ve done a million times, and your body easily works through the motions, running almost on autopilot, giving you time to look into the crowd, gauge the reactions, including the handsome guy everyone wants sitting forward, eyes intense.

you are out of breath and completely naked except for your heels as you walk back behind the curtain, pushing your hair back that got caught in your face.

“girl, shut the fuck up! hottie was totally into you!” lola says, her voice sounding excited, despite a couple of the other girls giving you a jealous look.

you pull your next lingerie set, the one you liked for lap dances as you shrug. you noticed that he was paying very close attention to your dancing, but you didn’t know that he wasn’t giving everyone else the exact same heated look.

“i think its only fair we let cherry at him first.” sugar suggests, and there’s a smattering of agreement from the other girls, which is enough to set it as a rule, you get to approach the attractive man before anyone else could take their shot.

it makes you excited for the individual sets to end as you make sure to touch up your lipstick and blot any sweat and oils from your forehead. you saunter out as soon as you are allowed, the last stripper still making her way off the stage.

your eyes immediately set sight on your target. “hello there, handsome.” you purr, watching as the handsome mans eyes slowly drag up your body. “can i interest you in a dance?” he smiles, a closed mouth smirk that conveys powerful confidence. he doesn’t even use his words, simply pulls a bill out of his pocket. you smile with all your teeth back at him, knowing they’re framed by your bright red lips as you tug at the waistband of your lacy panties, letting him slip the folded bill against your skin, fingers briefly brushing against your hip.

you turn around as the man sits back in his chair. you place your hands on either side of the arm, giving yourself some support as you lower your ass over his crotch, hovering and moving side to side, teasing before you finally press down, letting your ass roll over his crotch and thighs.

“you like that?” you ask with a smirk, but the man know he doesn’t need to answer, not when you can certainly feel his excitement growing in his pants.

you continue your lap dance for longer than usual, even parting your thighs slightly to give yourself some pleasure as well, hoping its not too noticeable for anyone watching, and you’re sure some of the other girls are staring in anger as they have to give lap dance to old drunk men.

you rise up before turning back to the man. “would you like another dance? a private one in the back?”

he nods, standing up to follow you as you lead him into the back hallway with various doors, cracked if they’re empty, and locked shut to indicate someone else had already been taken back. officially, your club is a stripclub, but its an unspoken rule that lapdance time also meant that dancer could take clients back for anything they wanted to do in private, and that money would stay solely with the dancers, not needing to give the bouncers or bartenders a percentage. 

“whats your name, handsome?” you ask, gesturing him into one of the empty rooms, the lights already low, red velvet couches pushed up on either side of the wall with a small table in the center. the room is small, but plenty of space for just the two of you.

“rafe.” he answers with a smirk, hand coming to your waist, touching the bare skin there. “and money is no object so whatever we do, don’t worry, i can afford it.” he pulls a bill out his pocket to prove it, tucking it again into your panties.

“hot and rich, i like that.” you hum.

“is there anything thats not allowed?” rafe asks, fingers rubbing over your sides, clearly excited to get started.

“wear a condom. no hitting or leaving any sort of marks on my body. any hard kinks, you need to tell me beforehand.” you explain quickly, having gone over the spiel with other customers before.

“just wanna fuck you.” rafe smirks, his voice deep and alluring, making you for once feel yourself getting excited about sleeping with one of the clients.

“why don’t you sit down then?” you gesture to the couch. rafe sits down with the same smirk on his face, his arms resting on the back of the couch as you begin to dance, able to hear the music from the main lounge of the club, using it as your tempo as you move your body, slowly taking off your lingerie under rafes watchful eye.

you get yourself completely naked, all while rafe watches you with that same look on his face, clearly growing in his pants, his cock pushing against the zipper.

you kneel down between his legs, tossing your hair to the side while you rub over his cock before undoing the button teasingly slow, followed by his zipper. “so big.” you coo. it’s usually what you say to make your average sized customers feel better, but for once you mean it with rafe.

“gonna suck me, cherry?” rafe asks, your eyebrows raising slightly when you realize that he remembered your name from when it was announced on stage before your set. “get that pretty red lipstick all over my cock?”

you tug his pants down in response, taking his underwear down with it as you watch his cock spring free, already hard and pulsing with need.

“gotta put a condom on for oral too.” you remember suddenly, having gotten so excited you almost started sucking him without it.

“aw, come on, i promise i’m clean.” rafe says, his voice so sickly sweet you hesitate, but remember the horror stories of other strippers getting stds from breaking rules.

“sorry handsome.” you shake your head, grabbing a condom out of the bowl on the table before sliding it over his cock. you make up for the condom quickly by sinking your lips over his dick, the red lipstick transfering onto the condom instead as you suck.

“oh, thats good.” rafe moans, leaning back against the couch as you bob your head, his hands moving to your hair.

you work your tongue against his cock as you suck, pulling out all the skills that you’ve learned in your years of working in clubs. you resist the urge to smirk as rafe moans loudly, not afraid to have his noises of pleasure heard.

you nuzzle yourself against rafes abs as his cock slides down your throat, swallowing repeatedly to not gag as you deepthroat him. you go to pull off when rafe pushes you back down, his hips lifting to keep your lips pressed against his pelvis.

you flutter your eyes closed and breathe for your nose as rafe pumps forward, lifting his hips off the couch to fuck his cock down your throat. you hum, creating vibrations around his dick while rafe grips your hair, tugging you down to meet his thrusts.

you are about to tap out, needing to take a real breath when rafes cock throbs in your mouth and pulls you off, your scalp burning slightly from rafe using your hair to tug at you.

“god, you’re good, i was about to cum.” rafe groans, relaxing back into the couch as you’re still kneeled below him, wiping away the spit that has fallen down onto your chin.

“how do you wanna fuck me?” you ask, standing up over rafe.

“hands and kneels, cherry.” rafe stands, shucking his pants off of where they are pooled around his ankles.

you climb onto the couch, arching your back to present your ass to rafe. he rubs his hands over your bum before rubbing his fingers through your folds, surprised to find how wet you already are.

“you're actually turned on, huh?” rafe smirks, taking his cock and rubbing it through your folds. 

“yeah.” you whine, trying to push your hips backwards, to get him inside of you.

“damn cherry, you're acting like you're the one paying me here.” rafe laughs, and you know you should be more professional, and maybe you would have if rafe would have asked you to ride him, but being bent over the couch, waiting for his big cock to enter you has you actually turned on for the first time when with a client.

“come on.” you moan, arching your back to present your cunt to rafe, which finally has him satisfying your wishes, sliding forward as his cock stretches you open.

“fuck.” rafe groans, instantly snapping his hips forward, slick sounds echoing around the empty room as he moves.

you finally remember that you’re the stripper here and begin to push your hips back onto him, meeting every one of his thrusts. as soon as you start to move, rafe grabs onto your hips to help out, slamming your bodies together.

“such a pretty pussy, cherry.” rafe says, hands squeezing your hips, just gentle enough to not leave bruises.

“such a big cock.” you compliment right back. “feels so good in me.”

“yeah, you like this big dick, huh?” rafe smirks, moaning when your cunt clenches down on him. you’re determined to make him cum quickly, despite not wanting it to be over any time soon, you also want to impress rafe and show off your skills.

you spread your legs a little more and press yourself forward so you can sink down onto your elbows, giving rafe a whole new angle, which you can tell he likes from the groan that escapes his lips.

“so good for me, gonna have to come back here and fuck you more often.” rafe says, hips grinding into your ass.

“yeah, yes, please.” you whine out, reaching between your legs with one hand to rub at your clit, knowing you shouldn’t worry about yourself and just focus on rafes pleasure, but your clit is pulsing and begging to be touched as you massage it.

“such a dirty whore.” rafe says, and you can practically hear the smirk in his voice.

rafe continues to fuck you hard while you get yourself closer to the edge, surprised how easily your high is building as rafes cock pumps into you.

“you close cherry? can feel you clenching round me.” rafe asks, sliding his hands to your ass, grabbing your cheeks and spreading them open, using the grip on your bum to continue to pull your hips back onto his cock.

“yeah, real close.” you moan, making sure to exaggerate your noises, hoping it would spur rafe along, and it does as he starts to moan incessantly, panting out a mix of curse words and your stage name.

“gonna cum.” he manages to warn seconds before he releases inside of the condom, grinding his hips into you as it triggers your own orgasm, fingers rubbing speedily as you cum, slumping into the couch as shivers rack your body.

rafe keeps himself lodged inside of you until your highs are thoroughly rode out. he pulls out with a groan, not able to help himself as he brings a hand to smack your ass, not hard enough to leave a print despite your no hitting rule, but you let it slide, especially as your wetness drips onto the couch.

“did i wear you out cherry?” rafe smirks, taking the condom off and tossing it into the trashcan before getting his clothes back on.

“fuck yeah you did.” there’s no use denying it, rafe can tell by the way you’re still breathing heavily.

“can you hand me a towel.” you point towards a small rack by the door that rafe hadn’t noticed before, clean towels stacked neatly on it. rafe grabs one of the washcloths, stepping over to you as you manage to turn yourself to sit upright on the couch.

“let me, yeah?” he kneels down, one hand gently rubbing at your thighs while he wipes your fluids away from your cunt, cleaning you off with surprising gentleness.

“thanks.” you mumble as rafe tosses the cloth into the trash as you redress in what little clothing you were wearing.

“how much?” rafe asks, pulling out his wallet as you collect the money that fell out of your waistband when you stripped for him.

you rattle off the number as rafe opens his wallet, pulling out more than enough to give you a generous tip, but he’s clearly not hurting for cash.

“do you go on again tonight?” rafe asks as you tuck the money into the cup of your bra.

“yeah, i’ve got one more number.” you nod as you head towards the door, opening it for rafe.

“i’ll stay just for you then, cherry.” rafe says, walking out the door past you with that signature smirk.

you feel your cheeks blush slightly as you watch him saunter down the hallway and then take his same seat as you rush backstage.

“tell me everything!” sugar shouts.

“oh my god,” you flop down on one of the couched, muscles still tired. “he is BIG.”

taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @rafecamerongirl @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @jjmaybankisbae @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @kamninaries @buckyswhxre @rafeinterlude @bellbottombaby @deeaardiary @rubixgsworld @emma77645

[quaintii]

Across the Street

Pt.3

Pt.1, Pt2.

synopsis: Miguel calls you in once more for babysitting. He has a day off from work and something inconvenient happens.

content: 18+ MDNI - babysitting, DILF miguel, fingering, m!receiving bj, praise and degrading, dirty talk, spiccyy overall.

A/N: thank you guys for the support!! Love u all 💞

extra: art is on Twitter by kimmy_arts0912

Miguel woke up to the sound of his phone burring on the bedstand, clicking the stop button.

9:04 a.m.

He slowly rose off the bed, rubbing his temples and heading to the bathroom. He took his time getting himself ready, it was never easy for him since he would regularly work for long hours but today was a day off.

He took a shower, shaving off his stubble beard with a mirror glued on the bathroom wall. He got out with a towel wrapped around his waist and a small one on his wet hair.

Soon as he finished changing, he went downstairs to drink some black coffee and eat some peppered eggs with bacon.

As he scrolled through his work emails on his laptop, he saw Gabriella at the corner of his eye. She stepped off the stairs, approaching Miguel and hugging his legs.

"Como dormiste, mi changa?" (How'd you sleep, my girl?) He let out a hearty laugh, ruffling her messy brown curls. His focus was now on Gabriella, carrying her with one arm while his other hand pinched her swollen cheeks.

"Bien, papi!" She said as she swinged on his arm. Miguel smiled and lifted her back on the floor, reaching for the chair for his daughter. He placed two plates, a small stack of pancakes with strawberries, butter and syrup while the other was a bowl of fruit.

"Make sure to eat all of it, mija. It's bad to let things go to waste." He spoke as he washed the prior dishes from last night, making him vividly relive the memory of his fingers in you. He couldn't shake the thought of you, he kept spacing out on your touch.

He snapped back to reality when he peered his eyes to his phone ringing, his wife. Well almost his ex-wife, the divorce was still in date for court but they went their separate ways months ago.

He wrapped a towel around his hands, drying them and answered the phone. "Hello?"

"I'm picking up Gabriella later today around 6."

Miguel's brows furrowed together. "What do you mean?!? This whole week is my time to spend with her. I have a day off today and tomorrow." He snapped back at her.

"What's the reason for the sudden change?! Im allowed to spend time with my daughter too." He was fired up but whispered into the phone so Gabriella wouldn't hear.

"She just got home a couple days ago, que te pasa en la mente?!" Miguel spoke. She scoffed into the phone. "You're more in love with your work than our own daughter."

"Well I planned a trip for the both of us and I already have everything packed for her. Relax, you'll get her back in a couple days, bye!" As Miguel was about to yell at her, she hung up on the phone.

"Pinche pendeja.." he muttered softly on his lips.

He was furious but had to remain calm to not raise Gabriella's suspicion of why her dad was breathing so heavily and palming his face with his hands.

After a couple minutes pass, he sat next to Gabi watching a cartoon show to ease himself down. He would then urge Gabi to go brush her teeth and change into something else rather than her unicorn pajamas.

Miguel decided to take Gabi to a new toy shop that just opened. He was still pissed about the call earlier but the thought ended up leaving his mind as his focus was now on his daughter's happiness.

5:04 p.m.

It'd been a day or two since what happened. Miguel hadn't sent you a message to babysit Gabi, until this afternoon.

"Hey, can you come over to babysit Gabriella? That is if you're not busy with anything."

"I'll be on my way in 5 minutes, Mr. O'Hara."

"Perfect..thank you. Again, Miguel is fine."

You felt so queasy about stepping in foot back to his house but so excited. You wore a summer dress due to the heat emitting from the sky. The afternoon would always be the hottest time of the day where you lived.

You face the mirror to fix the messy curls that sprung up due to the frizz. You apply some lip liner, finishing it off with a red tint gloss.

5:12 p.m.

You knock on the door, patiently waiting. You hear a click and the door finally opens, the sun shined on his caramelized skin. He look almost jaw dropping.. with a slicked back hair look. Loose black fit pants with a loose button up shirt. His eyes gave off a smile smile and invited you in.

You looked around to find Gabriella drawing at the table.

"Hi Gabi!" You squeal and wave at her as she rushes into a hug towards you. "Yay! You're back!" She was eager to see you. "What are you drawing? That looks great!" "I'm drawing a forest with fairies and unicorns!" Her high pitched voice rang in your ears.

You lean in closer to look at her drawing, acknowledging it. You give her a sweet smile, she returns it back.

You step back and walk to the cabinets to get a glass of juice. Your body jumped when you felt a hand rubbing in circles on your ass.

Miguel grazed his hands on your shoulder, whispering near your ear and dragging you further to the kitchen. Gabi's back facing the both of you two, you felt his hot breath fan you; shivers down your spine and to your core.

"How have you been, muñeca? Te ves muy...hermosa." He husked in a low tone. Your breathing slowed down, worried to even peep a sound. "I missed you..was worried you wouldn't come back." His rough hands rub the soft skin on your hips.

His tongue teased your neck, sucking and softly nibbling on it. "N-not here Miguel..your daughter.." You whispered, trying hard to restrain your small whimpers. He hummed in your ears, nibbling on it before detaching himself as soon as he heard a doorbell ring.

Luckily the kitchen had the blinds closed so whoever was outside, couldn't see.

He sighed and you quickly headed to open the door, facing a woman. She had on black sunglasses to block the sun in her eyes.

"You must be the new babysitter right?" She questioned as she placed her purse on the island countertop. "Yes! I was recently hired by Mr. O'Hara, Ms.." You waited for a response from her. "Mrs. O'Hara." She spoke, she reached to grab Gabriella by the waist; a suitcase near the table.

You had thought that he was divorced, you thought pretty quickly to it maybe they just haven't had gone to court yet to fix their situation.

"Mom? Where are we going?" Gabriella prods her head at Miguel and you. "We're going to Disneyland!!" She squeals as she hears the exciting news.

Miguel sighed and rolled his eyes, knowing that she never really gave attention to Gabriella, just spoiling and bribing her.

Gabriella was brought down back to her feet, hugging you and her dad by the leg, waving goodbyes.

You helped her out with packing some of her toys upstairs. When you both finished packing up some extra stuff, you head downstairs, slightly peering your head to see Miguel and his wife whisper about stuff. Miguel's chest heaved as his hands ran through his hair, frustrated.

Gabriella prods her head at what you're looking at and you quickly distract her by asking her something.

"Did you grab all of your toys, Gabi?" "I think so," she said as she rubbed her head and headed towards the door.

The lady drank some champagne from the glass, eyeing you up and down, questionable about you. You were never this nervous, but you worried if she had known.

She averted her gaze back to Gabi, holding her hand and the suitcase near Miguel. "Bye papi!" Gabi squeaked as the door behind her closed. Miguel waved non-stop til he couldn't see her anymore.

He laid his elbows on the countertop, tilting his head sideways back and forth. "Everything okay?" You walked up to him.

"Yeah.. um..it's just.." He hesitated to tell you. "Oh, don't worry! It's fine you don't have to tell me, Mr.-.. Miguel." He sighed angrily, "No no, it's just that..this week I was supposed to have Gabriella. She comes unannounced, not even a heads up that she would take Gabi with her."

As he vented more of his frustration, he felt relief by letting it all out. You were open eares with him, softly patting his shoulder blades to ease him.

"Wow..that's really messed up. Do you have custody of Gabriella, if you don't mind me asking." You spoke softly.

"Yeah, I do. We haven't had the court fully decide yet, it's coming up in a couple weeks. I just hate how she's nowhere fit for her to be actually caring for Gabriella." He sighed and took a big sip from the champagne bottle.

You hummed in return, heading to the snack closet for something to ease him up. "Want some snacks?" You asked. Miguel gets up and walks towards you.

You tip-toed to reach a cardboard box full of gummies, until you felt your body shivering to the touch of his hands around your waist later reaching your bra.

He wraps his arms around you, his touch becoming a bit more daring this time.

"You're very tempting. It's difficult to resist you right now..."

Miguel smiles at you and whispers his words. He then places his lips on yours again, his kiss passionate and eager. He wraps you as tight as he can, his hands roaming your hips.

"Oh, I would love something sweet. Don't you?" He murmured on your neck. His hands pushed your dress up, caressing your plush skin. "Mr. O'Hara-.."

You felt a sharp slap to your ass. "What did I say? Llámame Miguel.." (Call me Miguel)

He placed a hand on your chin to face him, kissing you softly. The second kiss seemed more like hunger.

"Get on your knees for me, cariño." He husked in a low tone, you obediently listen and laid your knees on the cold marble floor. He caressed your face once more, "Good girl.." The praises that came out his mouth made your cheeks heat up, your blood pumping to your pooling cunt.

Miguel's face lights up with pleasure, his eyes staring at you seductively as you kneel down in front of him. He watches your movement as you kneel, breathing slightly heavier. The way you look at Miguel also makes him feel good.

"Mm..."

Miguel's hand then reaches down and he grabs your head, making you look up at him.

"Open your mouth..."

Miguel moves his hand down to one of your shoulders, moving his thumb along your collarbone and then along your cleavage.

"Open wider, muñeca..."

Miguel's smile grows more and more as he sees you opening your mouth. You see his hand moving around your lips, just touching your face sensually here and there. Miguel's eyes never leave yours, and you find his stare to be both attractive and also exciting.

"Mm... Good.."

Miguel's eyes move down to your tongue and then back up to your face. He starts to whisper in your ear, his voice going slightly deeper.

"¿Como se siente esa boca, chiquilla?"

Miguel's breath slows, clearly aroused. He stuck in two fingers into your mouth and you hollowed your cheeks softly as you sucked on them for a bit. He went deeper, making you gag continuously, he took his fingers out licking them clean.

Your eyes landed on his bulge, palming it with your hands, rubbing it harder each time, pulling groans out of Miguel.

You begin to remove his pants by unzipping it and pulling down his boxers, his hard cock slapping his abdomen. The red brownish head was practically fuming for your touch.

You part your lips, laying your tongue out and licking the pre-cum streaming down on his tip. You try fitting all of his cock in your throat but you can't so you stroke the rest of him.

His eyes drop down to your face, his eyebrows furrowed together, savouring the delicious feeling of your tongue around his cock. You bobbed your head faster when your throat relaxed, being able to take in more of him. You clench your inner thighs together to feel some relief on your swollen clit.

His breathing becomes shallow the more he becomes impatient. When you looked up at him with small teary eyed..

He loses it.

He needs and wants to feel more of you, he slammed his cock deeper down your throat. The squelching sounds and low groans of his voice made you whine but it was muttered by his cock in your mouth.

You dig your nails into his thighs to keep yourself steady, you feel like you've ran out of oxygen. But you couldn't care less.

"Puta madre..." He whispers.

The feeling of him driving you absolutely mad, his grip on your scalp tightening with every thrust he took. The aggression shocked you, but you couldn't move since he took complete control of your mouth.

His cock pressed harder into your throat, making you gag on and on while tears streamed down your face. Your flushed out face drew him to his final straw.

His hips snapping against your cheeks, the slapping sounds echoing. The feeling of your fingernails digging deep into his skin, your muffled moans clenching harder around his cock whenever you hollowed your cheeks, made him lose his control.

"F-fuck...you're so good...such a pretty little slut aren't you? So fucking good f'me baby..." He scowled.

You kept muffling mhm's as he would praise your touch on him. His hips began stuttering, his thrusts slowly becoming slower as his cock became more and more sensitive with every warm touch of your tongue around him.

He held both sides of your face in a firm but gentle grip, abusing your throat to catch his orgasm. "I'm c-coming..mhmmf..mierda..." He whined.

His massive body shook with his imploding orgasm, he shoved his cock to the back of your throat and shuddered as his cum was hot and sticky on your tongue.

The moment he pulled out, he angled my face to his, towering over my frame. "Swallow it f'me." He spoke bluntly.

Miguel removed your mouth off his cock, his erection still hard and pulsing. All he wanted right now was to be inside you but he had different plans for you. He was going to return the favor back to you now.

You let out a few coughs to catch your breath and swallowed just like he asked. Bittersweet taste left on your tongue.

"Eres tan buena y hermosa, ma." (You're so good and beautiful, ma)

"Llevantate, amor." He panted on your neck.

He grabbed you by the shoulders and lifted you up, resting your quivering ankles on his broad shoulders. His fingers stroking and prodding at the wet stain on your underwear, his cold touch setting you on fire.

"Let me touch your pretty pussy, amor. Déjame ver ese bello coño.." (Let me see that pretty pussy) He tore your underwear off, the cold air washing your cunt makes you shiver. He lightly slapped your folds to see your face contort and furrow.

Suddenly, his hot tongue flicked your wet folds, and heat swirled in your stomach, your clit throbbing. Your skin burned to his touch as he reached for your perked nipples, rubbing it with his hands and whenever he would pinch your nipples, you would jerk forward; making his nose hit your clit.

"M-more Miguel.." You begged, your cunt clenching around nothing left you feeling empty and so needy. Your fingers wrapping around his brown curls, gripping onto them dearly as his tongue lapped on your clit.

"You're doing such a good job f'me, mi amor. Keep moaning my name like that. Fuck.." He groaned into your cunt. He slid into another finger and the feeling was too much for you to handle.

"M-miguel.." Your pants filled with wanton and lust. Your body jerks forward as he slid a finger inside you, your eyes impossibly rolling back to the back of your head as you choked on your moans, mumbling his name as he continued to eat you out like a starved man.

"Mirame, corazon. Keep your eyes on me, yeah?"

You felt too much and too little all at once, it wasn't enough for you but you felt like you were about to get thrown off the edge as his fingers started pounding you deep inside your velvet walls. You kept twitching and trembling, your back arching off the wall as your body hopelessly writhed for him.

Your nerves began stuttering, going numb along with a knot starting to untie. Miguel wouldn't stop sucking on your folds, his nose nudging your clit. His eyes never left your face, he loved seeing how you responded to his touch.

You started feeling a fire pooling low in your abdomen, your heartbeat pulsing faster than before.

You started losing composure whatsoever, when he slid in another finger inside. He didn't stop lapping on your sopping cunt, your pussy clenching around his fingers made his cock ache for your walls to tighten around him.

"It's t-too much.. m-miguel please mhmgf..fuck!" You sobbed and wailed. Your tears wouldn't stop, his fingers plunging in deeper inside your swollen cunt.

"You can handle it, doll.. I know you can." His ears relished the wet squelching sounds and your sweet little moans. You tugged harder into his hair as you felt a wave crashing down, the dam broke which released a leg-shaking orgasm. Fire sprinted throughout your body, the feeling of it taking over your mind with nothing but his fingers and tongue on your cunt.

Your orgasm came in flooding in and electrified every nerve in your body. Your vision fading to black. Your throat welled with moans and mewls, as you kept blubbering incoherently.

Miguel devoured you without mercy, savoring your juices as it ran down his chin. He kept you steady by holding you tight on your hips as you wiggled non-stop, shaking and writhed under him.

You loved drowning in helplessness of the pleasure as it surrounded you by the waist, leaving you breathless, shaky, and light headed.

You became almost feverishly whimpering since Miguel would still suck on your clit, tenderly. He finally removed himself from your folds, smirking at you while caressing your flushed out face. "Te ves bella así, muñeca. Eres mia..que no?" (You look beautiful like that, doll. You're mine, right?) You nodded as your orgasm finally came to a stop. He rested your ankles back to the floor, holding you up by the waist so you wouldn't succumb to the floor.

Just when he was about to tease you with his cock slowly on your folds, you both hear a ding from the door. Keys ring through your ears and the door creaked open. Heels clacking on the hard floor echoing around the spacious house, heading upstairs. The both of you quickly start to dress up quickly, you knew exactly who this was.

"Miguel!! ¿¿Dónde estás?? Do you know where the monster high dolls are?!?" A woman voice yelled upstairs. Miguel gave you a quick peck on the lips and a wink.

"What is it this time?" Miguel's voice responded back to her. "Gabi forgot her stupid toys..anyways just tell me where they are. She won't stop crying and I need her to shut up."

Miguel refused to give into his emotions and snap back at her so he gave off a small response to her.

"They're in the hidden basket under her bed, the lock is in the bedstand drawer." He answered, looking back at you tip toeing to the door.

You sent yourself off by going back home quietly and hurriedly.

Miguel was once again incredibly frustrated for the intrusion.

A/N: it's 12:31 am rn, gonna have the best sleep ever. I finally finished it! Leave any feedback, always room for improvement, thank you guys!! (Sorry for the ending once more 😭😓, I promise to make part 4 hella dirty and long)

Taglist: @thedevax @missussmorales @mxtokko @roronoaslover @livytofine @lolaiitip @luvstuffies @sweetirilly @avatricu @minnbinn @rqdior @migueloharasgirlfriend @t-sillay @brittney69 @honeycovered-bandaids @whatdudtheysay @tuskjohnny @spideys2cute @mushy-mushroom04 @yuki9912 @yumeeesss @noyasanify @ewan-tef @ilonasthing @lia-77 @migueloharaluhver @notsussybaka @woahnotmecryingoverafanfiction @usagijoestar @itzsab @gh0stcatss @ihateuguys @nyoxklo @xstormstriderx @bontensbabygirl @jroshtssn @realalpacorn @toecurlingstories @lunamoonbby @amberpanda99 @minihorizons @kathleenisdaraptor

[hitoshitoshi]

Now, Now, Kitten. Don't Bite. [Jealous!Sylus x Cat Hybrid!Reader]

Sylus stretched out his legs, one polished boot rested atop a stack of a crate someone had left lying around a warehouse. It was supposed to be a meeting—a show of force with some upstart gang that was trying to bite off more than they could chew in his sector. Idiots, the lot of them. Predictably, they were late and it left Sylus time to indulge in a rare moment of quiet. Well, almost quiet.

A soft thump from the rafters, followed by the low purr of a content Cat Hybrid!MC—you. broke the silence. Sylus didn't need to look to know who it was.

"Decided to grace us with your presence, kitten?" Sylus murmured, his gaze still fixed on the warehouse's entrance.

A shadow detached itself from the shadows above. Your paws padded gracefully towards Sylus, every movement was fluid and elegant, from the twitch of your tail to the way you lowered yourself onto the crate beside Sylus with a soft thud. Your head rubbed against Sylus' arm, your fur was surprisingly soft against his leather jacket.

"Impatient?" Sylus chuckled, feeling the familiar prickle of tiny teeth against his gloved fingers where they now rested on the armrest. "Now, now, kitten. Don't bite." Of course, these words were entirely just for show.

You tilted your head, studying Sylus with an intensity that would have been unnerving coming from anyone else. Then, with a playful flick of your tail, you struck. Precisely as Sylus knew you would. Tiny fangs grazed Sylus' skin, a sensation was more akin to a caress than a bite. It was a line they danced, a delicate push and pull, predator and... less predator.

But at the arrival of Luke and Kieran, they put a swift end to their little game. They bursted though the doors, their usual boisterous energy turned up to eleven, a stark contrast to the quiet intensity that clung to you like a second skin.

"Boss! We got something!" Luke practically vibrated with excitement, brandishing a brightly colored object.

"For the cat hybrid," Kieran added, tossing the object towards you. Sylus' lips twisted into a ftown. It was a teething toy shaped ike a fish, with rows of rubber bristles meant to soothe aching gums. Practical, maybe. But it grated him. You, with your untamed grace and predatory instincts, reduced to teething on a child's toy. He felt... Possessive. Annoyed.

Predictably, you got easily distracted, being as though you were a cat hybrid. You abandoned your perch on the crate, drawn to the novelty of the gift that Luke and Kieran got you. You batted the toy around with your cute littel paws. Those tiny and lethal teeth now gnawing on rubber instead of... well, Sylus.

Sylus watched, his gaze was dark as the feeling off quiet amusement was replaced by a simmering irritation he felt for some reason. He was Sylus, damn it. Fear was his currency, respect was his due. He didn't do these... domestic feelings. And yet, the sight of that damned toy irked him more than it should. "Seems like our little hunter has found a new plaything," Sylus drawled, his voice was deceptively mind, though the glint in his eyes held a warning. "Think the kitten likes it, Boss?" Luke, ever oblivious, beamed. Sylus rose from his crate, "We wouldn't want to deprive it nowm would we?" He scooped up the offending toy as if by accident, feeling it discreetly.

-

Later, after the meeting — Sylus found himself alone again in the quiet warehouse. You watched him with those unsettling eyes.

"Looking for something, kitten?" Sylus asked, a smirk played on his lips as he leaned against a nearby pillar, arms crossed.

You tilted your head, a low and questioning sound escaped your throat. You really wanted to bite something. You walked towards him, rubbing yourself against Sylus' legs, trying to get Sylus' attention because you felt super bad that you couldn't find the toy that Luke and Kieran gave you and you wanted Sylus' help to go find it.

Sylus allowed the contact, he even arched into it slightly. "Don't worry," he murmured, his gaze softened ever so slightly. "Some toys are simply too easily... misplaced."

Sylus could practicaly hear the purr of satisfaction rumbling in your chest as you nudged Sylus' hand, seeing that familiar, teasing bite. "Good kitten."

A/N: Damn, Sylus would 100% be that pathetic to be jealous of a toy.

If you like otome games, including Love and Deepspace, you should join Linkon Lounge! A discord server that's LGBTQ+ friendly (only serving those who are 18+) where we all can share our interests, talk to roleplaying bots (Caleb, Rafayel, Zayne, Xavier, and Sylus), and have fun game, movie, and stream nights where we stream games and/or cards that we pulled that others want to see. It would be super fun to have you as a member of our server.

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Masterlist

[hugsandchaos]

Seeing Double

Part One, Part Two, Part Three

Summary: A ghost who looks a lot like Phantom comes to him in search of protection, and their newest member instantly agrees. He calls her his little sister, and sooner or later, Phantom also might end up with a new brother.

*bangs pots and pans together* @vixen-uchiha, @starlightcat04, @blueliac, COME GET Y’ALL’S JUICE!!!

Phantom smiled to himself looking up at the night sky. The event he’d been waiting for finally started a few minutes ago, the top right “corner” of the moon was dark with the tiniest hint of red on the “edge”. He was pretty grateful for being allowed to go outside for the lunar eclipse. Especially since the other members of Young Justice got to tag along as well. He could hear Wally explaining the specifics of the event to Conner below, but ignored it.

Phantom was well above the trees so he could get a perfect view of the lunar eclipse, so it wasn’t very hard to ignore them. Especially since he was so happy about what he was going to see soon. And by soon, he meant an hour or so. Since they were so far out from the city the civilization in general, Phantom also had an amazing view of the stars. It seemed like every second he spent looking at them instead of the moon, a new one would pop into existence. Or he’d recognize another constellation.

He leaned back so he was floating with his back facing the ground and crossed one of his legs over the other. He folded his arms over his abdomen and smiled fondly, acting as if he was laying on solid ground instead of being in midair. Then a small blue fog of smoke came out of his mouth.

Phantom quickly swung himself upright and looked around. He really didn’t want to deal with any ghost fights right now, he just wanted some peace. As he scanned the area around him, he noticed something in the distance. It definitely wasn’t a star, and it was too small to be a pod. It might be the ghost he had sensed being nearby.“Phantom?” Robin called out. The ghostly hero glanced down below.”Everything alright?” He asked.

Phantom nodded and went back to looking at the ghost.”Yeah, just a second. I think I see something.” He yelled back. He squinted his eyes to try to see if he could recognize the ghost. It didn’t take long for him to figure out who it was, and when he did, a huge smile broke out across his face.

“Danielle!!!” Phantom called out.

He quickly rushed towards his younger clone. He didn’t notice his friends calling for him, but he noticed that Dani had definitely spotted him since she was also hurdling towards him. They reached each other somewhere midway and Phantom slowed down enough before they practically collided with each other. Dani didn’t really slow down as soon as him and knocked him back a little, but he wasn’t too fazed by the impact and wrapped his arms around her.

He hugged his sister considerably tighter than he usually hugs people, and spun around a bit as a small way to release some of the new, excited energy. Dani laughed a little as they spun, then he stopped.”How have you been?!” He asked excitedly.

“I’ve been great!!” She said. They both ended the hug with big grins on their face, very happy to see the other after months had passed. Phantom was about to ask her about her time apart from him, but she opened her mouth to speak.”I’ve seen so many cool things that I wanna tell you about, and guess what?!“ She asked. She held her mouth open and pointed at the upper part. That’s when Phantom noticed her canine teeth were a bit bigger than a regular human’s.”I’ve grown fangs, like yours!” She exclaimed. The older halfa gasped softly. He wasn’t quite sure what emotion had just swelled up in his chest a little, but he’s felt it before, and it was definitely positive.

Was it pride? Was he proud of her? He wasn’t sure if that was it or not, but the feeling remained.”That’s so cool, Dani! They’re fang-tastic.” He said.

Dani’s grin grew a little bit wider when he said that.”Why, fang you!” She said. Suddenly, her expression changed drastically from pure excitement to what looked like distrust. Her eyes looked at something behind him, and Phantom quickly turned around to see what or who it was that caused her reaction.

Megan was floating there.”Who’s your friend, Phantom?” She asked kindly. Phantom calmed down a little and smiled again. He glanced back at Dani again and noticed how she looked a little confused, but still defensive. He floated back to be next to Dani.

“Hey, Megan! This is my little sister. She has the same powers as me.” He said. Him talking with his friend so calmly and casually seemed to help Dani relax. Which was what he was hoping for.

Megan’s smile grew as she looked over at the other halfa.”Really?! You’ve never mentioned your relatives before!” She said. She held a hand out.”It’s really nice to meet you, Danielle. I’m Megann! Well, Megann is my Earth name.” She introduced herself. Dani glanced over at Phantom. He knew what it was she was asking and gave her an encouraging nod. With the affirmation that it was safe, Dani smiled and shook Megann’s hand.”Nice to meet you too.” She said with a small smile. For a moment, Phantom was happy that they hadn’t met her in some kind of fight or had a misunderstanding. Then he remembered something pretty important. Not wanting to make it awkward, though, he decided to try to play it cool.

He gave Megann a slightly apologetic look.”I’m sorry, but would you mind letting us chat for a bit? We have a lot to catch up on and talk about, and something tells me it’s going to get a little personal.” He asked politely. He tried to make it understandable and reasonable, and to him, that sounded like a good explanation. He’s been pretty private about his life before he joined Young Justice, anyways.

Megann nodded.”Oh, yeah, of course! I’ll let the others know what you’re doing if they ask.” She said. The older halfa agreed with that idea and nodded to show it. The martian turned around and flew back to the others, and once she was gone, Phantom glanced over at Dani.

She turned to him at the same time, also looking pretty serious. Seemed like they both had something to say.”You go first.” Phantom said. Dani remained silent for an extra minute. Phantom waited until an idea of what it was entered his head, and he didn’t like it one bit.”It wasn’t Vlad, was it?” He asked. Dani shook her head.

“I was... I was spotted by one of them.”

Those words briefly made Phantom’s core stop. The sweet moment suddenly turned way more sour than he was expecting. His eyes widened in shock and horror and they both floated in silence for a while. With each passing second, Dani looked more and more like she’d start to cry. Tears were slowly starting to form, but she was holding back.”I don’t want them to catch me... We both know I can’t go into the Ghost Zone, so... I didn’t know what else to do.” She said. Her voice came close to cracking at the end.

Phantom quickly pulled his mind back together. An urge to protect his sister began to block out the fear he also felt for her and he pulled her into a hug.”They won’t get the chance. I’ll do everything to make sure of it.” He said. He wasn’t entirely sure how he’d be able to actually protect her against part of the government, but he wasn’t lying. He was going to do whatever he could to protect her from the Guys In White. Dani hugged back.”Thank you.” She said.

“Anytime.” Phantom said. It was practically obvious to him. As long as his core was still vibrating and his heart was still beating, he’d protect her against anything.”But listen, my team doesn’t know I’m a halfa. They only think I’m a ghost. I think you should say the same.” He said. Dani nodded.

They soon ended the hug and Dani looked better than before. Phantom noticed something above and pointed behind her.”Look at that.” He said. Dani followed his gaze and let out a small, amazed “ohh” under her breath when she saw it. The lunar eclipse wasn’t complete yet, but it was getting there. A part of it was still white, but the majority of it was getting more and more red, and even looked a little orange.”I saw one of those before. Lunar eclipse, right?” She asked.

“Mhmm.” Phantom confirmed.

The two remained there for only a few minutes, watching the moon change ever so slightly, before Dani filled the silence again.”Can we meet the rest of your teammates?” She asked, turning to face him.

“Duhh! This way.” Phantom said, then flew to where his friends had set up camp.

It was a pretty short flight, and once there, his teammates were already looking at them. The group had used Megan’s bioship to fly out an hour or so away from the mountain and brought their own tents, and obviously some campfire snacks along with other necessities. They were all aligned in a circle with a sort of “entrance” facing the direction of the bioship. Phantom landed with Dani close behind and glanced back at her to make sure she wouldn’t get overwhelmed or anything. He wasn’t entirely sure how good her social skills were. She looked a little bit surprised, but overall okay. Phantom turned to his team.”Hey, guys! Hope you don’t mind one more.” He said, gesturing towards his sister. Dani smiled and waved at them.

Megan was the first of them to speak.”Not at all! Come on over, the eclipse is getting closer.” She said. Dani accepted the invitation and began walking over to them. Phantom obviously followed.

He noticed Conner looking a little surprised, but brushed it off since everyone seemed a bit surprised to learn that he apparently had a sister. Dani floated off the ground to be more at eye level with his friends.”How come all of your friends are taller than me?” She asked, glancing back at Phantom. He just shrugged and grinned.”I guess you just got the short end of the stick.” He said. Dani rolled her eyes and looked back at them.

“I’m Danielle! It’s nice to meet all of my brother’s new teammates.” She said. Robin held his hand out and Dani accepted it.

“It’s nice to meet you too. I’m Robin. That’s Wally, Artemis, Conner, Kaldur, and you’ve already met Megan.” He said. Phantom leaned closer to Dani and pointed at Wally.

“He doesn’t really believe in ghosts, so feel free to bug him when he’s not training or on missions.” He whispered.

Wally glared at him and Robin and Artemis both muffled a laugh behind their hands.”Hey!” Wally snapped. Dani gasped almost slightly offended, then grinned mischievously.

“Oh, I’d love to!” She said. Before she said something else, though, Conner spoke up.

“Megan told us you’re his little sister, but I didn’t expect you to look practically just like our friend. You could be mistaken for twins if it wasn’t for the age difference.” He said. He didn’t seem upset, and Phantom was a bit relieved about it. He didn’t think that Conner would start anything, but he had anger issues and had... negative reactions to being reminded that he’s a clone of someone who doesn’t like him.

Dani shrugged a little. “Well, yeah! I’m his clone, so of course I look like him and have similar powers.“ She said. The camp went quiet. The atmosphere wasn’t exactly heavy or intense, but it certainly wasn’t as happy and calm as before. Dani noticed the change and at first was confused, then she started to grow nervous. She glanced between Phantom’s teammates.

Finally, one of them spoke.“You said she’s your little sister.” Wally said. Phantom immediately hopped onto the defensive, but tried to remember about their treatment towards Conner and not mistake his confusion in his voice for something negative.

Dani seemed to make that mistake, though, since she began floating closer to him with a pretty nervous expression.”Yeah, because she is. Just because there’s no legal documentation or something doesn’t mean she can’t be my family.” Phantom said. Dani stopped right next to him and nodded in agreement. To her surprise and not her big brother’s, his friends all seemed almost a little heart warmed by this. Conner just looked surprised.

“That’s nice of you. To give her a family.” Kaldur said.

“I don’t see why I wouldn’t, but thanks?” Phantom said. Dani suddenly flew upwards and looked at the sky.

“Enough with the sentimental stuff, we’re going to miss it!” She said. The older halfa quickly remembered the reason they’d come outside in the first place and let out a small “oh”. He followed her lead and smiled at the moon once he was above the trees.

It was now completed and fully red. Sure, there was still a tiny bit of lighter red, but the huge majority looked a lot like blood. It was a little creepy, but Phantom still couldn’t help but admire it. It was amazing, and made him almost forget about the talk he’d need to have with Kaldur and Red Tornado, and possibly the rest of the league later. He’d think about that after the eclipse was over. For now, he was just going to enjoy the sight.

[babyboydaniel]

Helmet Swap (M)

Lando Norris x Fem!Reader

Summary: Lando is excited to show you his new helmet for the upcoming season.

Smut, Fluff | Warnings: 18+, PinV, Mutual Masturbation, Thigh-Riding, Humping | Word Count: 2.6K

As the new F1 season rapidly approached, Lando finally got in one of his new helmet designs, covered in his signature neon yellow and blue. He could not wait to show it off to you. The moment it had arrived in front of your door, he was pulling it from the box, bringing it over to where you were sitting on the couch to show you all the small details. Unabashedly proud of his design for the upcoming season.

After showing it off, Lando placed the helmet on display in your bedroom. It sat atop your dresser, a garish object that disrupted the neutral serenity. But, you did not have the heart to tell him to place it elsewhere. You loved him being so genuinely excited about something. 

The helmet sat there for over a week, waiting for the first race in Bahrain. 

One night, after dinner with some friends, Lando and you stumbled into the bedroom, pulling at each other’s clothes and trying to get naked as fast as possible. Lando had been teasing you all night. He could not keep his hands off of you. Lando had leaned over to whisper the dirtiest things in your ear. Suggesting that he should drag you to the bathroom and fuck you against the sink, or he could simply bend you over the table in the middle of the restaurant. By the time you left and bid your friends goodbye, your panties were completely soaked. The drive home was just as torturous.

With tangled limbs, the both of you fell onto the bed. Lando below you, his legs hanging over the edge of the bed. Your legs straddled his thick thighs as you fell into his lap, completely naked. Somehow, Lando still had his pants and shirt on, which had been unbuttoned entirely. As you settled on top of him, he wound one arm around your waist. The other fisted in your hair as he stared deep into your eyes. His unwavering love for you was spoken with silent words. You almost had to look away since it was so overwhelming, but then Lando pressed a chaste kiss to your lips. You beamed. 

It was moments later that Lando was parting your lips with this tongue. Kissing you with such force and intensity that it was making it hard to breathe. The room was silent apart from the sound of your slick mouths moving together in a familiar dance. His grip tightened on you as if to stop you from falling apart, which had the opposite effect, heightening everything. Every flick of his tongue, a scrap of his teeth against your lip, and the tug of your hair, as he controlled the kiss, was a lot. 

Lightheaded and breathless, you were mindlessly grinding your wet core against Lando’s clothed, stiff member. 

Lando groaned as you repeatedly pressed down on him. His hips bucking up to meet yours halfway. If he allowed you to, you could get off just like that. That was the power Lando had over your pleasure. 

Lando pulled back from your warm, wet mouth. You whined as he moved a couple of inches from your face. You chased after his lips, wanting more and frustrated he wasn’t giving it to you. With a firm squeeze to your hip, Lando stopped your advances. You pouted. 

“Behave,” he commanded, his once loving blues eyes now firm with authority. 

“Finnneeee,” you grumbled.

“Now, why don’t you be a good girl and ride my thigh, baby?” Lando suggested.

“Fuck, Lan. Okay,” you quickly responded, hovering over his right thigh. Your pussy clenched just thinking about it. 

Lando’s hands steady you as you sit down on his muscular thigh. The brush of the fabric against your desperate cunt was euphoric. Without the need for encouragement, you immediately began humping his thigh, moaning and swearing as the pleasure was insurmountable. The drag of fabric over your clit was both not enough and too much at the same time. Your arms locked behind Lando’s neck, fingers entangled in his curls, anchoring yourself to the pleasure.

With cocky indifference, Lando rested his hands back on the bed. A small smirk played on his pink lips as he watched you frantically use him to chase an orgasm.

“Look at you, baby. So fucking desparate. Are you going to come all over my thigh?” he taunted.

You nodded. Increasing your speed, wanting more. Needing more.

“Shit, you are so fucking wet. Ruining my pants.”

“Just a desperate little slut, humping my leg to get some attention. You are so cute,” Lando teased. 

With each passing disgusting comment, you were getting closer and closer until you were about to topple over the edge. 

‘Lan, I am going to come,” you moaned. 

In an instant, Lando reached up to grab your hips, stopping your movements and halting your impending orgasm. You groaned, frustrated, since you were so close. 

“Not yet,” Lando stated, “I have an idea of how I want you to come. If you are okay with it.”

Lando pulled you back so he could look into your eyes. His eyes looked grey in the light.

“I want you to ride my helmet,” Lando suggested like it was a typical everyday request.

You whimpered, clenching your thighs at the thought.

“Yeah, fuck,” your eyes glancing over to the dresser. 

With you in agreement, Lando moved you off his lap, gently placing you on the bed. He strode over to where the once-forgotten helmet still resided on the dresser. He made his way back over and set it in the middle of the bed. The glistening wet spot on his thigh was obvious in the dim light, turning you on more. 

Once in its place, Lando made his way over to one of the chairs that faced the bed. He plopped down onto the cushion, legs spread wide and hands on his lap. 

“Go ahead,” Lando prompted.

With Lando’s permission, you shifted so your legs framed the helmet. Lingering over the object before resting your dripping core against the cool fiberglass of Lando’s helmet. The temperature difference made you moan. With a tentative flick of your hips, you rubbed against it. The noises continued to fall from your lips. Slowing humping the helmet, the smoothness mixed with your juices caused an orgasmic sensation. Unlike anything you have ever felt before. Everything was slick, and the wet noises echoed in the room as you dragged cunt back and forth. It was all so filthy. It was not going to take you long to come like that.

You opened your eyes to see that Lando had his cock in his hand, removing it from the confines of his pants, and was fucking himself with a loose fist. He was watching you.

Heat radiated from your chest as his gaze flitted over your skin, only encouraging you further. 

With his attention solely on you, you gently wrapped your hands around your throat. You pressed down only slightly, enough to get a reaction out of Lando. Pleased with the stutter of his hip and his lip finding its way in between his teeth, you lifted off from your neck to slowly glide your fingers down your breast, barely grazing your nipples. But the feeling was oh so delicious, and you needed more. You were operating only on the desire as you brought one hand up to your mouth, sucking two fingers between your lips, effectively coating them in your spit before returning to your nipples. The lack of friction had you throwing your head back in ecstasy. The movements of your hips increase. 

That was all it took to get you back to tiptoeing close to the edge. You were going to come, and you were unsure if you could stop yourself this time if Lando denied you. 

“Can I please come?” you begged Lando.

“Aw, baby, look at you. So pretty humping my helmet. So fucking desperate that you would get off on anything. You want to come?” he taunted. 

“Yes, please,” you pleaded.

“Then come.”

With Lando’s approval, you fell apart. A scream ripped from your throat, and you wildly bucked against the helmet, and your fingers twisted your nipples with such force you were sure they were going to be sore the next day. You came with such force you squirted all over Lando’s helmet. Coating the smooth surface with your release.

Lando looked pleased with you. 

Slipping off the helmet, your body sagged against the pillow resting at the headboard. The post-orgasm drowsiness beginning to seep into your bones. Your eyes became heavier as you just wanted to give in to the relaxation, but the movement of Lando approaching the bed alerted you. 

He stood next to the bed. His hard, leaking cock was a beautiful rosy pink, tempting you to place your mouth around it. 

Lando reached out to cup your jaw, his thumb tenderly running along your cheekbone. 

“Do you think you can come one more time? On my cock?” He asked.

Your sensitive pussy throbbed at the thought. “Yes,” you moaned. 

Lando quickly stripped off the rest of his clothes and returned the helmet to its place of honor. Once he was back in front of you, you reached out to take his cock in your hand. Loosely gliding your hand over the soft skin, squeezing out the precum as you massaged the very tip. On instinct, you licked the dribbling wetness that leaked out. Lando moaned. 

“Shit, baby, as much as I would love to fuck your mouth, I am not going to last,” Lando admitted. 

You giggled, “Next time then.”

Lando nodded, “Whenever you want, baby.”

Then Lando was on top of you. The weight of his body was suffocating you in the most pleasurable way. Lando’s mouth immediately finds your neck, lightly kissing the skin there. As if he was scared to leave a mark, but you just knew it was his way to drive you crazy. To have your baring your neck to him and begging him to mark you up. Knowing his tactic did nothing to change the outcome. 

“Lan, more, please,” you begged. 

“More what?” he questioned, playing dumb. 

“Just more. I need you. I-I need you to, to give me more. Please. I need you to mark me up. Please, Lan,” you gasped as Lando sunk his teeth into the base of your neck. You moaned at the inescapable pleasure that spread over every nerve ending in your body. 

Lando repeated this over and over again, biting and sucking mark after mark into your skin. Leaving you a whimpering, sopping mess beneath him. 

“I need you inside me,” you pleaded, arching your body into his. 

Lando removed himself from your neck to look you in the eyes. The intensity of his stare had you choking on the air. He was breathtaking. 

“I love it when you beg, baby. Knowing that you need me and my cock,” Lando whispered filthily in your ear. His lips pressed delicate kisses across your cheek until he reached your lips, where he placed an innocent kiss. 

Lando pushed off from your heated skin so he was kneeling in between your legs. He lightly ran a finger over your soaked cunt. Brushing over your clit with each pass but never spending enough time there to bring you any real pleasure. 

You moved your hips hoping to direct Lando to where you needed him, but, he knew your game and did not give in. He simply continued with his feather-like touches, giving you just enough for you to feel desperate. Having you exactly how he liked you. 

“Please just fuck me already.”

Lando laughed. Grabbing his cock in his hand, he slicked himself with your wetness. Dragging himself torturously slow between your lips. Then, without warning, Lando thrust into you, filling you up to the hilt. You cried as you stretched around him, loving how full he made you feel. Lando stilled as you adjusted around him, his fingertips dug into your thighs that were pressed to your chest. 

“Fuck, baby. Your pussy feels so good,” Lando moaned. 

Your pussy involuntarily clenched around him. Then Lando was sliding out of your wet heat before fucking back into you. His hips met yours over and over again. The obscene sound of your skin slapping together, mixed with the squelch of your juices around Lando’s cock was intoxicating. Your hands gripped the sheets while you writhed beneath Lando, your head thrown back in utter pleasure. 

Lando’s hands groped any part of your body he could reach. Your eyes fall shut as if unable to handle his touch. Then you felt Lando’s hand gripping your jaw. 

“Look at me, baby,” Lando coaxed. 

You opened them to find his electric blue eyes staring back at you. His curls were plastered to his forehead, his cheeks flushed, and his red lips were swollen. He looked absolutely erotic. 

His muscles flexed as he continued thrusting into you, sweat trickling down the planes of his chest. Your mouth watered. 

“Lan,” you whined.

Lando smirked, pleased that he had such an effect on you. 

“You look so pretty with my cock in you,” he panted, “you take my cock so well, baby.”

You could not hold back the moans from bursting from your lips if you had tried. The warmth of his praise cloaked your body. 

Lando’s pace was unrelenting as he repeatedly pounded into you, brushing that special spot inside, bringing you closer and closer to your orgasm with each pass.

Your breathing picked up, and you were meeting Lando’s hips with every thrust. 

“You want to come?” Lando asked. 

“Please,” you moaned. 

Lando somehow picked up the pace. One of his hands reached in between your bodies to rub your clit. It was what you needed. You were teetering on the edge. 

“I’m going to come,” you whined. 

“Let go, baby,” Lando said. 

With a curse, you were coming on his cock. Tremors of ecstasy cascaded the length of your body. Your chest curved towards Lando, pulling at the sheets that were still in your hands. Lando did not stop as you tightened around him. Fucking you through the pleasure. Extending your orgasm, it almost becoming too much. 

Then Lando came with a moan, stilling as you felt his dick twitch inside you. His eyes screwed shut, and his sinful mouth hung open as ropes of white cum coated your insides. Mixing with your own release. 

Once satisfied that he had nothing more to give you, Lando pulled out and watched as his cum dripped from your spent cunt. His tongue flicked out to wet his mouth. His gaze fixed on the indecent sight between your legs. 

As if he could not stop himself, Lando reached down and scooped up his cum with his fingers and rubbed it over your swollen core. Gently gliding against your clit. You whined, oversensitive after your last orgasm, and moved away from Lando’s hand. Lando snickered. 

“Look at my messy, baby. You look so good covered in my cum,” Lando mocked. 

You lazily smiled up at him as you slumped against the pillows. 

Lando leaned down to capture your lips.

After the languid make-out session, the necessary cleanup and visits to the bathroom. The two of you found yourselves wrapped around each other as you drifted to sleep. 

A couple of weeks passed, and you were in Bahrain for the first race. As you saw Lando get into the car for free practice, you could not help but blush, seeing the helmet on his head. It is a known fact that Lando had a habit of not washing his helmets after they had been used.