#i choked up reading this again before i replied to it.

[silverb0wties]

Lemonade - Part 5

leah williamson x alessia russo x child!reader

Summary: When something bad happens to your Mummy and Daddy, you end up living with your Aunty Lessi and Aunty Leah.  But is there room for you considering they have a new baby on the way?

Chapter Summary: the aftermath of your concussion

Warnings: pregnancy, self-harm, disordered eating, bullying

a/n: sorry if this chapter is a little bit dark in parts. if you're still reading the series, thanks so much for sticking with me. I appreciate it more than you know.

|| Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4 ||

PART 5

You woke up on a plastic bed in a room that smelled like the awful cream your Mummy would rub on her legs after Netball, surrounded by a million different kinds and colours of sellotape.

You could hear voices, and you looked over to the corner of the room to find your Aunty Leah consoling your Aunty Lessi as she cried.  She looked distraught, her eyes red and puffy with tears.

“I should have known it would overwhelm her.  I was just so excited to share this with her…”

“Babe, she’s going to be okay.  We’re still learning all this, yeah?”

“But we’re meant to protect her, and… and I- I…” Aunty Lessi choked on her words before Aunty Leah cut her off.

“And I should have had a tighter grip on her when I saw she was panicking.  Like I said, we’re both still learning how to do this.  The medics said she’s got a bit of a concussion, but she’ll be alright.  We know how concussions work, so we’ve just got to keep our eyes on her and make sure she gets lots and lots of rest.”

There was a quiet knock at the door, before an important looking lady with a clipboard came in.

“Less, sorry but we need to know if you’re going to play the second half or not?” she asked.

As your Aunties turned toward the door, they realised that you were awake.

“Oh Bunny, sweetie, you’re awake.  How are you feeling?” your Aunty Lessi rushed over to you, her hands coming down to gently cradle the sides of your head.

You looked up at her a bit stunned, rather confused about why you were where you were and why everyone seemed so upset.

“Does your head hurt?  Do you feel sick or dizzy at all?” she asked, her hand softly brushing through your hair.

You tried to think about if you felt sick or dizzy, but all you could really feel was a powerful throbbing rattling through your head.  You also felt really, really tired.  But you had just woken up, so that could perhaps explain that.  You don’t remember going to sleep though, which was starting to concern you.

“I feel okay,” you replied, trying to brush away your Aunty’s concern.

“Alessia, sorry, we need t-” the lady at the door began to ask again.

“I won’t be playing, sorry.  My family is more important right now,” Aunty Lessi told her.

“Less, you should go play.  I’ll stay with Bunny and make sure she’s-”

Your Aunty Lessi whipped around to face Aunty Leah. “No, Leah.  I’m not leaving her.  She’s hurt.   We’ll get a car to take us back to the training centre so we can go home early,” she insisted firmly.

Aunty Leah replied with a sad smile and a nod.  “I’ll go get our stuff packed up then, yeah?”

“I’m okay Aunty Lessi, you should play!” you tried to insist.

“No Bunny, there would be no point in me playing anyways.  I would be so distracted out there and worrying about you I would probably kick the ball into the wrong goal by mistake.”

By the time you finally got back home that night, your head was still pounding and you were struggling to stay awake.  You were trying your hardest to be big and brave and pretend like you were okay, but as soon as you stepped into bath, your whole façade fell apart.  As the warm water lapped at your tense muscles, which you now realised you’d been clenching in an effort to distract from the pain in your head, your resolve melted and you began to weep.

You brought your knees up to your chest and dropped your head forward, your hands entwining at the back of your head as your little body shook with each sob.  The tears and jagged breaths only intensified the pain in your head though, which in turn caused more tears and jagged breaths.  You tried your hardest to stay as quiet as possible, but you were aware that your cries were becoming increasingly vocal.

There was soon a soft knock at the door, followed by your Aunty Lessi’s voice.  Whilst making sure you still got clean and dressed, your Aunties had always tried to give you your privacy while bathing and dressing, which you appreciated.  They were your Aunties, but it still felt weird being undressed around people who weren’t your parents.

“Bunny?  Are you okay?” she called through the closed door.

“It hurts” you cried in response.

“What hurts honey?”

“Everything.  My head hurts most.”

“How about we give you some medicine to make it hurt less, yeah?”

“Okay.”

“And then we can get you to bed, and you can try and get some rest, alright?”

“Okay.”

There was a short pause.  You’d assumed your Aunty had gone away to get the medicine, but then you heard her voice again.

“Bun, you don’t always have to try and be big and brave y’know?  If you’re hurting, you can tell us.  Always.  I promise you won’t be in trouble or we won’t make fun of you or anything.  We just want you to feel okay.”

“Okay.”

You didn’t fully believe her.  You wanted to, but a part of you still believed that there was only so much love and affection to go around and you needed to space that out at least until Lemonade arrived.  You didn’t want to use it all up on this incident.

So you tried your hardest to push the pain down and away as you quickly washed yourself.  You managed to get yourself up and out of the bath and wrapped in a towel before there was a knock at the door again.

“You can come in,” you mumbled, making sure the towel was secured tightly under your arms.

Your Aunty Lessi entered with a little cup filled with pink medicine and a cup of water.  She kneeled down to your height as she offered it to you.

“Now it says strawberry flavoured on the bottle, so hopefully it won’t taste too bad.”

You gingerly took the cup and gulped the medicine down, wincing at the distinctly fake strawberry taste.  You quickly grabbed the cup of water from your Aunty’s other hand and skulled that down to wash away the lingering flavour.

“Good job, Bun.  Now let’s get you into your PJ’s and into bed, yeah?”

By the time you were under the covers, arms tightly wrapped around your beloved Arthur, the pain in your head had dulled to only a mild ache.

“Goodnight sweet girl” your Aunty Lessi whispered, kissing the top of your head.

“Night Aunty Lessi” you mumbled back.

It was the first time you slept through the night without waking up to a nightmare since the fire.

--

You woke up to the smell of Aunty Lessi’s lasagne wafting through the house.  However, as you opened your eyes and came to your senses, you immediately panicked. 

You were not in your own bed. 

You were in your Aunties bed.

You had no idea how you’d come to be in their bed.  The last thing you remembered you were lying on the floor in the loungeroom studying one of the books the Arsenal girls had given you about football.  You were trying to understand where all the different positions were on the pitch and what responsibilities each position had.  You had been figuring out the difference between a centre-back and a full-back when you had… fallen asleep.

Bad. Bad. Bad.

Whilst it had been a few days now since your accident and you’d had a couple of days off school and your head no longer hurt, you were still feeling extra extra tired from your concussion.  You’d spent most of that day at school trying to hide your yawns from your teacher and classmates.  When you’d been given some free time after finishing one of your activities ahead of the rest of the class, the same group of students that always seemed to catch you at your weakest had caught you dozing off in the corner of the room where you’d been reading.  They’d tied your shoelaces together and were starting to draw on your arm when you woke up.  You hadn’t realised they’d also put rolled up pieces of paper in your hair braid until your Aunty Leah pointed them out when she picked you up.

You’d tried to brush it off and said it was just a game all the kids were playing with each other, but the concerned frown your Aunty gave you implied she didn’t quite believe your lie.

“You know you can tell us if there’s anything going wrong at school, yeah?  If anyone’s picking on you or calling you names or anything?”

You just nodded.  There was no way you would ever tell your Aunties what was really happening at school.  You would just deal with it like a big girl.  Push through.  Be brave.  They had bigger things to worry about than some kids putting paper in your hair and saying mean things.  Your Aunty Leah was growing a human AND mending her busted knee for heaven’s sake!  You could deal with some silly paper in your hair.

When you’d got back to the house, you went straight to your room to undo your braid and pluck all the little pieces of paper from your hair.  You’d counted them (23 in total) before scrunching them up and throwing them in the little wastepaper basket beside your desk. 

As the paper hit the basket, a tiny ball of raging heat began bubbling in your chest.  You didn’t know what to do with it or how to describe it, but it made you want to stomp your feet and hit a wall and scratch at your skin.  You’d never been the best at describing emotions, but you were pretty certain this wasn’t sadness.  Perhaps, this was anger? Frustration? Disappointment? 

The tiny ball continued to bubble and grow as you lunged for your bed where Arthur lay.  You attempted desperately to use your tried and tested method of rubbing his ear against your cheek to calm the feeling, and whilst it felt nice, it did nothing to soothe your need to stomp or hit or scratch.

You searched your room urgently for something else to ease the searing heat in your chest, even gulping down the remnants of a cup of water on your bedside table.  But nothing worked.  You needed to stomp or hit or scratch.  You knew couldn’t stomp your feet or hit a wall, because that would be loud, and your Aunty would hear and come ask what was wrong.  So, you decided to scratch. 

You had to pick somewhere not too visible so that if you left a mark, nobody would see and ask what happened.  So, you tugged up the hem of your school dress and pushed down your tights and began scratching at the skin at the top of your right thigh.

The relief was instant. 

The second your nails dug into your flesh, the little ball of heat in your chest began to cool.  You scratched and scratched, and scratched some more until it finally, finally disappeared.  By the time you eventually stopped, your skin was stinging, and your fingers were cramping.  But the little ball of heat was gone, and that was all that mattered.

There was a gentle knock on the door as you speedily pulled your tights back up, wincing as they brushed against your newly tender skin.

Your Aunty Leah popped her head in through the door, “Bun, do you want a snack? I got some blueberry muffins from the bakery…”

“Oh… um, yeah, I’ll be right down, just getting that paper out of my hair,” you mumbled, quickly running your fingers through the ends of your messy blonde mane.

“Alright, I’ll pop them in the microwave to warm them up,” she replied before heading back downstairs to do so.

As you heard her footsteps fade away, you turned around and pulled your tights down again, trying with all your might not to release a pained noise as the fabric ripped away from your newly raw skin.  The area you’d scratched was an angry red colour and the skin seemed wet, but there was no blood, which whilst a relief, made no sense to you.

Not wanting to keep your Aunty waiting, you hastily pulled your tights the rest of the way off and threw them in your laundry hamper.  The house was warm enough, but you decided to grab your soft little blanket that had purple and grey clouds, as well as the book on football you had been reading and the little notebook you’d been making notes in (and Arthur of course), and head downstairs.

“Perfect timing Bun, just took them out of the microwave.  Do you want a drink?”

“I’m okay.  Thank you, Aunty Leah, this looks lovely” you replied, climbing up onto a stool in front of the kitchen bench where a little plate with a yummy looking blueberry muffin sat.

“Well, we all know the kitchen is Aunty Lessi’s domain.  That woman can cook like a dream!  But I’m not too shabby at picking out a good pastry.  I guess you could say bread and bread-adjacent foods are my domain,” she teased.

You giggled as you tucked into your muffin, appreciating your Aunty Leah’s silly jokes about how bad at cooking she was and how limited the range of foods she ate was.  Your extended family often seemed to tease her a bit about being a picky eater and she would usually laugh it off or join in on the joke.  But you knew it was something she was actually a bit self-conscious about. 

A few days into your stay here you’d gone to the fridge to grab some milk for your cereal and had accidentally knocked a container off a shelf.  As you bent down to pick it up, you noticed a little letter stuck to the lid that read “Leah, my love, it’s okay if you can’t eat this.  I know you tried and I’m proud of you.  Please just make sure you eat something or at least have a protein smoothie.  For you and for ‘L’.  Love you – xx Less.”  You’d immediately felt guilty for reading it as you rushed to put it back on the shelf, knowing you’d intruded on a bit of your Auntie’s privacy.  You’d seen a few similar little notes stuck to containers since then.  At the time you’d been very confused about what “for you and for ‘L’” meant, but you had since figured out it meant ‘for you and for Lemonade’. 

When you finished your muffin, you wriggled off the stool and headed over to place your plate in the dishwasher.

“Are you done with your plate too, Aunty Leah?” you offered.

“Oh, thanks sweetie, you didn’t have to do that,” she replied as she passed you her plate with a smile.  “Feel free to watch something on the telly if you want.  I’ve got a bit of boring adult housework stuff to catch up on before Aunty Lessi gets home.”

“Is there anything you need help with?” you asked.

“No, no.  I’ve just got to do a couple of loads of laundry and there’s no way I would make you deal with Aunty Lessi’s gross smelly training socks!  It’s bad enough poor little Lemonade is stuck with me and can’t escape from it,” she laughed, jokingly shielding her belly from the smell.

“Is it okay if I just read in the loungeroom?” you asked.

“Of course it is!  Just remember if your head starts to hurt or you’re feeling too tired or anything, to have a rest, yeah?” she smiled at you, stroking her fingers affectionately through your hair.

“I will, thank you.”

So, you made yourself comfortable in a little spot on the loungeroom floor, surrounded by a couple of cushions, the blanket you’d brought down from your room and, of course, Arthur.  Soon you were laying on your belly, nose deep in the book and jotting down notes in your notebook all about what a penalty shootout was and what circumstances led to one.  You drew a little picture of the goal and the line markings and where the goalie had to stand and where the other players had to stand, before turning back to the book to read about in-game penalties when slowly but suddenly you… were… asleep.

The next thing you knew you were waking up in your Auntie’s bed to the smell of your Aunty Lessi’s lasagna.

The realisation hit you like a hundred bolts of lightning.

You’d slept in someone else bed.

Bad. Bad. Bad.

Bad things happen when you sleep in someone else’s bed.

The last time you’d slept in someone else’s bed, your house burned down, and your Mummy and Daddy had died.

You jumped out of the bed as though it was burning you, panic rattling all through your little body.

“Bad. Bad. Bad.”

Your right hand began hitting at the side of your head before you even knew it was happening.

“Bad. Bad. Bad.”

Your other hand clawed at the skin of your neck, scratching determinedly at the tender skin there.

“Bad! Bad! Bad!”

You tried so hard to stop them, but your feet began to stomp loudly, your whole body seemingly moving with a mind of its own.  Everything around you seemed like it was spinning.  You thought you could smell smoke and when your eyes began to water you weren’t sure if it was because you were crying or if it was because there was actually smoke. 

You vaguely heard a commotion and saw the door swing open, but everything around you continued to spin making you feel like throwing up.  You couldn’t throw up in your Auntie’s bedroom!

“Bad! Bad! Bad!”

“Bunny?  Sweetie, what’s going on?”

You could hear your Aunty Lessi’s voice and feel her presence, but the only word you could think was ‘BAD’.

“Bad! Bad! Bad!”

The word kept falling from your lips and you continued to stomp and hit and scratch.

“Okay, Bun.  I’m going pick you up so you stop hurting yourself sweetie.  I need to make you nice and safe, alright?”

Again, you heard your Aunty but all you could think was ‘BAD’.

“Bad! Bad! Bad!”

Carefully you felt your Aunty wrap her arms around you, trapping your arms and lifting you off the ground.  You struggled as your body fought to keep hitting and scratching and stomping, but she gently tugged your hands away from your neck and head, tucking them tightly against her chest.

“You’re okay, lovely.  You’re safe, I promise.  It’s just you, me and Aunty Leah here okay.  Nothing bad is going to happen alright?  We’re safe.  You’re safe.  Everything’s okay…”

“Bad. Bad. Bad.”

“What do you mean by bad, Bun?” Aunty Lessi asked.

You shook your head, unable to explain yourself.  All you could say was “bad.”

“Oh sweetie, you haven’t done anything bad.  You’re not in any kind of trouble.  I promise.  And nothing bad is going to happen either, okay?” she whispered.

You began to slowly unclench in her arms, comforted by the soothing way she was swaying gently.  Eventually you opened your eyes to see your Aunty Leah standing in the doorway watching on, her face red and blotchy as though she’d been crying.

You immediately came back into your body, realising whatever you’d just done had upset your Aunty Leah.  You tried to wriggle slightly to free yourself from your Aunty Lessi’s grip, but she tightened her hold.

“Not yet sweetie.  I need to what’s going on?  What happened?” she asked, sitting down on the edge of the bed with you in her lap.

“I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry.  I didn’t mean to be bad and upset Aunty Leah.  I’m so sorry.  I promise I’ll be good.  I promise.”

“Darling, you didn’t upset me” your Aunty Leah assured you as she came over to sit next to Aunty Lessi on the bed.

“But your face is blotchy like you’ve been crying” you replied, your Aunty Lessi finally loosening her grip on her as your reached toward Aunty Leah.

“Well, it’s because I have been, but it’s not because you upset me.  I’m just worried about you is all.  Why were you hurting yourself?” she asked, taking your hand in hers.

“I just had to.  I don’t know.  I just did.  I was bad.”  You jumped off Aunty Lessi’s lap and started pacing on the floor in front of her and Aunty Leah.   “I woke up in this bed and I had no idea why I was in your bed and all I could think was ‘bad’ and I just did it without realising.”

“I washed your sheets and they’re in the dryer.  So, when you fell asleep on the loungeroom floor, I just put you in here for your nap.  I didn’t mean for it to upset you so much, sweetie,” Aunty Leah explained, tears still rolling down her cheeks.

“You didn’t upset me, I just I don’t want you and Aunty Lessi and Lemonade to die too!”

You heard your Aunties gasp at your explanation, but you just kept pacing, trying to figure out a way to stop the inevitable from happening.

“Bunny, oh my goodness, why would Aunty Leah and Lemonade and I die because you had a nap in our bed?”

“Because that’s what happened when I slept in Mummy and Daddy’s bed!”

You watched as your Aunties exchanged a series of looks.  The seemed confused and shocked, which was confusing and shocking to you, because it all seemed so obvious.

“Darling, your Mummy and Daddy didn’t die because you slept in their bed,” Aunty Leah tried to tell you.

“Yes, they did!  They did.  They DID!  I know they did!  It’s the only thing different I did that night from all the other nights.  I had done so so good all summer getting into my big girl routine and kept it up really well for the first couple of weeks of school.  But then… then I slipped up, and I was bad and I asked to sleep in bed with Mummy and Daddy that night.  And and th- the fire happened.  And if I had of been in my own room, I could have got myself out.  Because we’d practiced.  Daddy made sure we practiced.  And and and then… then Da-Daddy wouldn’t have needed to get me out and he could have helped Mummy because of her leg.  And they could have got out too.  But I was bad.  I slept in a bed that wasn’t mine.  When I should have just slept in my own bed, like a good girl.  Like a big girl.  And now they’re dead.  They’re both dead.  And it’s my fault.  And now what if you die too!?”

[spynorth]

Pspspspsps? Hey, you. Dumblr's biggest bully ever, who's actually just a rare honest force here that snowflakes can't handle so you run around with the big bad stamp on ur head. Anyway. I just pop in to remind me of my appreciation for you, your writing and your absolute willpower to beat the shit life pours onto you. I've learnt myself throughout life that humor is your strongest suit in dealing with shit. It helps you survive. So please, never ever lose your brilliant sense of humor, okay? I adore you. Really do ♥

@langdhon ava! i'm late to this, I really am (as you know), but I've been hoarding it because it made me grin like an idiot whenever I would scroll past it in my inbox. i laughed out loud at biggest bully ever because you've been around long enough to know its true. In all seriousness, I'm so glad we ran into one another again (weirdly enough, after we had both branched into something other than fantasy, ha!) and I was so happy to see that you still crafted such amazing stories. You've blown me away from day one all those years ago and that hasn't changed. I love what you've created with andy ofc (both on alice and now morpheus too!) but your portrayal sticks out beyond that as well. Idk if i'm wording it correctly but the nuances of michael that i love seeing displayed in his relationship with alice are still present in other dynamics (just in different ways) and I love that. he's never one dimensional, he's never just the cardboard cutout of the michael given on the show .. you've developed him and made him your own little gremlin.. which is the goal of rp, i feel like. It's easy to parrot canon and nothing but canon but its another thing entirely to build upon its layers and end up with something flavored by your own creation and touch and you've pulled that off time and time again. I knew you too well to be surprised by that haha. I'm glad I make you laugh ! I love writing but I love making people laugh even more so tumblr rp kind of gives me that avenue to try both. I'm so glad you're around on my dash again and I'm so grateful I know you

[hurlingdown]

WITH MY HANDS AROUND YOUR THROAT — TOP MALE READER X SUKUNA

synopsis. taming the king of curses is one thing. making him beg is another. since it's either fuck him good or get your throat slit anyway, why not take a gamble and achieve both? wc. 2.6k

tags. sub! sukuna, soft dom!reader. can be read as cock or strap. brat taming, choking, begging, hair-pulling, belly bulge, heavy praise kink, pet names (good boy, sweetheart), porn with feelings, this turned out way more intimate than i intended it to be

His back arched away from your chest as you slowly pushed your cock inside him, stretching him wide open. You could feel his every ragged breath from the hand you wrapped around his throat, silent for once, and you knew he was eager. 

“Good fuckin’ boy, Sukuna,” you muttered lowly into his ear.  

You barely heard the warning growl. He turned his head abruptly, teeth snapping together in an attempt to bite as you jerked away, barking out a startled laugh. 

“Aw, that was cute.” And as though the bite wouldn’t have torn flesh, wouldn’t have scarred your face for life, you smiled down at his scowling face like it was a pretty thing. 

“I am not your pet,” Sukuna snarled, and he sounded angry, something akin to a wounded animal. You hummed non-committedly, continuing to push until you were snugly seated inside him. “Fuck—the n-next time you call me that, I will bite something more than your face.”

“How tempting.” Despite his threats, his legs were trembling with effort to hold himself up, and he pressed his throat into the cup of your hand, willingly submitting to your touch. You squeezed lightly, just enough to press into his windpipe, and watched as all four of his eyes rolled to the back of his head. 

It was funny, really, how he was using violence to disguise what a whore he really was. You counted to five before you let go. 

Apparently, you stopped too early for his liking. He was panting, his glare wet with tears, biting down a moan with bared teeth as the fat tip of your cock caught on his rim before easing in again. You were moving at a lumbering pace, deep and hard inside him but too fucking slow and rubbing at all the wrong places. 

He was growing frustrated by the second, and he finally barked, “Get on with it or I’ll kill you! Do you want to fuck me or not?” 

“I am fucking you, Sukuna.” 

“Not like this! Fuck—fuck you!” he half-hissed, half-whined, nails digging into the soft mattress. ‘More’ and ‘faster’ were on the tip of his tongue, but he took pride in his title of the King of Curses, and naturally his ego kept his mouth sealed shut. “Do really think I will hesitate to kill you just because I let you inside me? Are you that much of a fool?”

“Nah,” you replied nonchalantly, rolling your hips inside him to jolt out a startled moan. “You can kill me, but I don’t feel like catering to you today.” 

His words exploded into a string of expletives as he slammed his hips against you, shuddering as it only dug deeper, missing his sweet spot by far. 

Sukuna wanted to scream. 

Hand sliding up from his throat to firmly seize his jaw, you turned his face to meet you. “D’you need a reminder, sweetheart?” Your fingers dug into his cheek, taking extra precaution in making sure he wouldn't suddenly rear up and bite you. 

You needn’t have worried, though. He was way too desperate to care about the pet name or comprehend your question at that point, and he bucked his hips impatiently against yours, letting out a displeased growl. “What? J-just fucking fuck me already, brat.” 

You ignored him, continuing to move into him at a languid pace. “If I just give you the reward every time you ask, you’ll turn spoiled. How about you show me that you’ve earned it first, mm?” 

“What,” he lets out a shudder, breath bordering on a sob because why couldn’t you just give him what he wanted? He was so good for you, all patient despite his arousal, waiting for you to take him like you had promised, and yet you were being so mean and unfair to him. “What do you fucking want from me? You are just—fuuuckk, you are just human—so fucking weak, comparable to an insect! What makes you think you have the right to demand that of me? I am your king.”

He wanted to rip that smirk right off your face, punch your pretty face in. Dine in your blood. You didn’t deserve him. 

“I don’t have any right, I know,” you agreed, “but you aren’t entitled to everything, either.”

“Your ways of insinuation are pathetic—”

It hit him then, like a thunderbolt splitting the earth apart, and he gave a violent shudder.

The past twenty minutes had not been for nothing. You weren’t just toying around with him. You wanted him to see him crumble from his want for you. You wanted to hear him beg for it.

“No,” he gasped, shaking his head wildly. “No, fuck you. I am not going to beg.” 

You felt a sadistic smile creep onto your face. Seeing him deviating from his usual cocky self, now a babbling, incoherent mess, gave you a strange sort of pleasure. “I didn’t ask you to beg, though, did I? But now that you mention it…” 

You wanted to break him. 

Not that he wasn’t breaking already.

Sukuna was trembling with the effort of not giving in, sharp teeth digging into his bottom lip so hard it tore through skin. Blood trickled down one side of his chin, and you wanted to lick it up. 

“I am your king,” he repeated, a tremor in his voice betraying his want. “You offer to me. I do not beg.”

“Well, king, you’re holding up all the fun,” you taunted, voice sickly sweet. “Don’t you wanna be a good boy for me?” 

He shook his head again, this time with less force. Tears were welling up in his eyes again, and he didn’t even bother to blink them away, too occupied otherwise. They dotted on his lashes, threatening to spill. Where were his promises of ‘biting something more than your face’? What a little liar. 

“I’ll make you feel so good you’ll be feeling it for days,” you purred into his ear, “in exchange for one word. That’s all I’m asking for. You can do that, can’t you, sweetheart?” 

You watched in triumph as his eyebrows furrowed, as though carefully contemplating his answer. It was far too generous of an offer—he would be a fool to refuse. You made sure he knew that. Just one more little push, and he would topple over the edge and become putty in your hands. One more push. 

Kissing your way down his spine to plaster yourself to his back, you reached a hand down his abdomen with your free hand, pressing into it where your cock rested within him. It was too much, and you knew it. You were heavy and thick inside him, filling up every inch of his tummy, and he hadn’t stopped clenching around your girth since the first time you pushed it in. Then you moved your hand, feeling him up until you found the thing you were looking for. 

You heard his breath hitch. 

Beneath your fingers was an obscene swelling high up in his abdomen, protruding from the hard lines of his stomach. A bulge that made for clear evidence that his insides were carving out a space for you. You should have known there was no way it would fit so innately. No matter how disagreeable his personality was, his body was so good for you, as always. 

You gave the bulge a little squeeze, and Sukuna let out a choked whine, mouth gaping as though trying to form words. 

You pressed yourself to his back, kissing his shoulder. “What is it?” 

He shook his head, continuing to whine softly, no longer as petulant as he was desperate. You were almost afraid you had broken him. 

You decided to take one more step. Flattening your palm on the bulge, you carefully pressed it back into his stomach. “What do you want, Sukuna?” you whispered. “I’ll give you everything you want.”

He tipped his head back to glare at you with the corner of his eye, tears rolling down his cheeks. “Give me more,” he gritted out, helpless. “Please.” 

Now that wasn’t so hard, was it?

Without warning, you pulled back and rammed yourself into him in one go, angling your hips to pound right into his sweet spot, making him cry out in surprise. “W-wait, wait, ahh!” he screamed, the hand on his neck forcing him to stay in place. “Slow down, ‘s too much—” 

You continued to slam your hips against him, hitting his prostate with every sharp thrust, drinking in his whines and complaints and ignoring all of them. “You’re so good, so fuckin’ good, Sukuna.” 

He whined loudly in response, hands grasping for purchase on the sheets as you railed him into oblivion. “Not good, no,” he sobbed, shaking his head, his protests falling on deaf ears. “Bastard, slow down…”

You let go of his throat to grab the back of his neck, shoving his face roughly into the mattress as he cried out. “Fuck, how do you feel so good?” you muttered mindlessly, taking more rapture in looking at his pleasure-addled expression (eyes squeezed shut, drooling onto the bed, moaning loud and clearly in ecstasy) than the fact that you were inside him. “I could do this all day long, y’know?” 

The tip of his erection grazed against the sheets with every thrust, and he wanted nothing more than to grab it and jerk off to your pace, but you kept his hands so busy, either trying to knock off his balance or brutally pound his entire body into the bed. 

“Ah, ah, sh-shut up! Keep talking and—I’ll twist your head off!” he threatened with a whine, desperate, but you continued to talk, embarrassing him further. 

“Look at you,” you cooed, “you were making a fuss earlier, and look at you now, taking me so well. Fuck. You look like you’re made for this, Sukuna. Made for taking my cock.” 

He seized up at that, hole clenching around your girth obscenely, making your pace stutter. 

“What was that?” you laughed. “Was that a turn on? You’re too cute, really.” 

Sukuna tried to morph his face into a look of disgust, but all he succeeded in doing was have his eyebrows pinched up in a look that resembled pure bliss more than anything. At some point he gave up struggling, arms going slack as he allowed you to pull him back against your cock by the hips, fucking him onto your lap as lewd ‘ah, ah, ah’s escaped his lips. 

You were pounding into him like an animal, treating him like one, and yet your pathetic, ingratiating words never failed to make his heart cramp up with a strange sensation, heat spreading from his face to the tips of his ears and down his chest, painting him a pretty red. 

You were just another lowly human, he reminded himself, someone to fuck and forget, but at the moment Sukuna found himself wishing to get lost in the stars that erupted around the edges of his vision every time you hit his prostate, found himself wanting a second time, even if the first hadn’t ended yet. You drove him insane, and he loathed how good it made him feel. 

“Brat,” he heard his own voice, wrecked by how much noise he had been making, and you leaned forward to kiss his spine, letting him know you heard him. 

“What?” you murmured as he didn’t continue, slowing down your thrusts. “D’you need something? Does it hurt?” He bristled at how tender your words were, how you acted like you cared about a bloodthirsty curse like him. 

“Did I give you permission to stop?” He pushed his hips back against you with a growl, forcing you to pick up your pace. “Just wanta let you know—after this. You’ve got—hnngh, ahh, fuuuck! Nowhere to run. So don’t even think about i-it.” 

You blinked, equal parts amused and perplexed by his sudden threat. You dared not stop, though, even as he started to pant and whine heavily into the mattress, body shuddering with the gradual approach of an orgasm. “I’m not going to run from you, Sukuna. Wouldn’t dream of it.” 

Why would you run, when he was right under you, pliant and wanting for you to satisfy him? Did he not understand how much you’ve yearned for this? 

“Good choice,” he moaned, “don’t you dare fucking stop until you make me cum.”

You sped up your thrusts, snaking a hand back onto his neck and up to fist into his hair, wrenching his head up to smother him with a filthy kiss. It was rough, and more teeth than tongue, and at some point you could taste the sharp tang of blood from the cut in his lip earlier. You lapped it up along with the saliva that trickled down his chin, hearing him let out a needy whine. 

“So close, ah—so damn close, please, please, fucking please—” he begged shamelessly between loud moans, stripping himself naked of all dignity as he spent the last of his energy to bend his back into a vile arch, pressing his ass against your crotch as you slammed yourself into his swollen sweet spot in one powerful thrust. 

A scream ripped from his throat and he came untouched, staining the bed with white, at the same time clamping down on you so hard you jerked to a sudden stop. You collapsed onto his back, panting loudly as you tried to catch your breath. 

“Fuck,” you groaned. “You okay?” 

He refused to respond, keeping his face buried in the mattress. You took the opportunity to pull out, hearing him let out a soft whine, cold and aching and suddenly empty. 

“Fuck you,” you heard him mutter. 

That was good. He was still alive. 

You slumped down onto the bed next to him, kissing his shoulder to try and get him to turn, and he raised a shaky hand to flip you off, mumbling something you assumed was a profanity. 

Biting down a grin at how utterly adorable he was being, you found yourself overwhelmed by a sudden rush of affection. 

“What, are you shy?” you teased. “Don’t be.” 

He scoffed, the tips of his ears reddening. “Brat, I am not shy.”

He didn’t have any reason to be shy. Not to you. After all, you had long mapped out every inch of his body, from his prominent features to his most vulnerable. Made him want to bare his throat for you to make him feel good.

But nothing could have prepared you for the way Sukuna slowly flipped himself onto his back, levelling you with a sleepy, half-lidded gaze instead of his usual hard glare, muttering something under his breath. He watched you quietly, placing his hand next to yours on the bed, the position far too intimate for your comfort.

“Hey,” you blurted out, feeling your heart skip a beat. You knew you were risking everything, and that he could kill you in the blink of an eye, but you couldn’t stop the next words from coming out. “You were really good today.” 

Good.

Sukuna had been called many things in his life before, but ‘good’ was not one of them. Good men did not dirty their hands with the blood of the innocent for fun. Good men did not sit on a mountain of bones and call themselves a king. Good men did not grow six arms and four eyes and look like monsters, and Sukuna was a monster himself.

There was a long, awkward pause, and his eyes were wide with a look you couldn’t decipher—one of disgust or mockery, maybe, and you were already regretting it. But to your utmost surprise, it started with a light blush dusted high on his cheekbones, before it bloomed into a dark red that spread across his face. The corners of his lips twitched, and then lifted, ever so slightly. He immediately fought to replace it with a scowl, but you had already seen it. 

He had smiled. Sukuna had smiled at you. A genuine, almost soft smile, as though he cherished the way you told him he was good, had longed to hear it for centuries of living.

“Quit smiling, brat,” he huffed, but his voice lacked any real venom, more exhausted and content than anything, and made no refusal when you leaned in to kiss him.

Sukuna would later realise that he was neither good nor man, but if you were ever so willing to embrace a curse like him, he supposed he could be good to you, for you.  masterlist! # and here’s to introducing me and my delusions to the jjk fandom… also i feel like my tags r getting a lil repetitive lol

[k-hotchoisan]

missing piece

<seonghwa x fem!Reader>

Building legos is important business and Seonghwa knows that very well when he realises he’s missing a piece.

So who would’ve thought two people attempting to search for one Lego piece would lead to other things?

genres/warnings: smut, pwp, softdom!seonghwa, missing Lego piece (don’t worry it’ll get found later), dirty talk, it’s legit teeth rotting fluff and smut, unprotected sex, breeding kink, established relationship, mild choking, clit stimulation

a/n: another fic exchange with @bro-atz 😎👊🏻 it’s a competition of who can kill each other faster and we both LOSING. love u bro <3 and also finally serving you all the softdom! Seonghwa you all deserve 😛 enjoy my loves 🩷

read bro’s one here 💘

wc: 1.9K

‘A couple activity idea’—apparently the amount of countless generic couple websites would list this idea. 

Yeah, this would qualify for a couple activity idea casually, not when it seemed like a big business deal when it came to Park Seonghwa. 

Seonghwa had the ambiance set, his station ready—the Animal Crossing Soundtrack Playlist with Rain playing through the speakers, his desk clean and white—only stacked with the Animal Crossing Lego sets prepared to to be unboxed, in his favourite oversized shirt, and not forgetting you, who he dragged into his room to watch him build his little building block empire—comfortably seated across him on his bed. 

You didn’t mind watching your partner build the latest Animal Crossing Lego set he just easily blew a couple of hundred on hours before. You watched his inner child take form when he made you sit down with him to watch him unbox the first set he was gonna build, his eyes large and twinkling, just like his Animal Crossing character in-game.

Seonghwa hums softly, and it’s definitely his favourite soundtrack from the game. From time to time, Seonghwa would make the little critter noises his animal villagers would make while he fixes the animal villagers and you can’t help but giggle whenever he does the impressions. He’s finished a cherry tree, making sure he flailed his wrists to get your attention. Your lips pull to a smile when your eyes land on the pretty cherry tree he built, reflecting his satisfaction with his plump lips too. 

Then he’s back to his workstation, and you’re absorbed back into playing your switch. 

“This set is pretty easy”, you hear him comment. 

“Is it?” You reply, your attention focused on trying to slay the beast. 

“Yeah. I think I could finish this in another half an hour.” He sounds confident. 

“Good luck with that sweetheart”, you respond, your eyes trailing back to your game. 

Then midway through, Seonghwa demands your attention again, and this time you watch the way his eyes light up the whole damn room when he shows you the way the little Lego letter fits into its little Lego mailbox. Not gonna lie, it was a very adorable detail. He yaps about it for a good seven minutes before he sinks back into his building block world. 

“Now here’s the million dollar question—pink or brown for the door?” He asks, loosely fitting both coloured doors after one another 

“Pink, obviously”, you pick. Seonghwa seems satisfied with your answer, and you swear you see the little musical notes float out of him when he fixes the door onto the house. 

A couple more minutes later, you glance over at the messy pieces of Lego strewn all over Seonghwa’s table, below his half-completed Animal Crossing cottage. 

He has his cheeks puffed out, and his eyebrows knitted together while he’s carefully scanning over the table. 

“Are you missing a piece?” You ask, setting your console on the bed. 

“Yeah, I think I am”, Seonghwa mutters, his index finger pointing over each piece on the table, in hopes of finding it. 

You take the instruction booklet from his hands, skimming through the pictures before you settle it down onto the desk, your eyes laser-focused onto the mess too. 

“Do you wanna come over to my side instead? Maybe you can spot it better from this view”, you suggest, which Seonghwa takes, so he shuffles over to the bed, and moves to sit right where you are—and now you’re on his lap, with his chest pressing right against your back as he towers over you, arms hugging you from behind. He continues to search for the missing Lego piece. 

You take part in the search too, the game completely forgotten by then. You realise it’s nice just having Seonghwa sitting close to you like this. Maybe this was what they meant by building Lego as “a couple activity”.

“Did you drop it or something?” You ask, shifting slightly to have a better view of the floor. You hear Seonghwa grunt behind you, but you pay no attention, focusing on finding the piece. 

Seonghwa swears he’s focused on looking for the missing piece too—he really wants to complete the set, but at the same time, he’s watching and feeling you move against him on top of the way he’s able to wrap his arms around you easily, smelling his scent on you—it’s not helping his case. He bites his bottom lip, trying to manage himself. 

Obviously, it does nothing, considering he’s having you in such close proximity, and every movement you’re brushing against him is starting to make him grow sensitive. 

His hand snakes down to your thighs, drawing circles, his other hand sifting through the endless pieces of Lego. 

He forces himself to concentrate, and it works for a split second, that is, until you absentmindedly shift his free arm on under your loose shirt, and he snaps. 

“If this is your way of breaking my concentration, you’re doing a good job”, you hear his deep voice ringing in your ears. He’s letting his hands roam all over your body hidden underneath your shirt, his fingers grazing against your nipples teasingly, and it draws gasps out of you. 

“Focus on finding the block, Park Seonghwa”, you tease, readjusting yourself, making sure you press against his growing erection underneath his loose shorts. 

It’s Seonghwa’s turn to draw a shaky breath every time your clothed ass comes into contact with his erection.

You pretend to ignore him, but you can’t ignore the way he’s massaging your tits, and you find yourself sighing and growing hotter through each passing moment. 

You think he’s finally giving you a break, but you’re proven wrong when his hands are sliding down the waistband of your shorts. 

“You’re not finding the block, Angel”, Seonghwa points out, and you pout at his words. Your hand slips under the large opening of his shorts and fuck—his erection is only growing thicker. 

You hear him groan behind you when you let your hands wander to stroke his cock through his underwear. So he retaliates with his finger sliding past your panties, cursing when he realises your pussy is growing wetter by the second.  

“We’re supposed to be looking for the Lego piece, Hwa”, you mutter, mind growing hazy as his fingers get drenched from your slick, circling your clit gently. 

“Mmhm. We are, baby. You’re just not focusing”, Seonghwa replies, his index and middle finger spreading your folds open letting his index finger find your clit more easily, and it’s driving you fucking crazy. 

Your legs push open automatically, your hands pausing stroking him off, well, not that Seonghwa minded. 

“That feels so good”, you sigh. Seonghwa’s other hand cups your jaw, and you turn to face him, feeling the way his hands slide down your throat while Seonghwa has your lips on his, eating up your whines and moans before letting you catch your breath.

“So fuckin wet for me, Angel. You like it that much?” He teases. 

“Mmhm, your fingers feel so good Hwa”, you nod, your grip around his arm tightening as the pleasure builds in your stomach every time his finger strokes against your clit. At this point, you can’t even pretend.  

His lips are pressed against your ear, his voice deep yet you sense traces of whining in his tone when he says, “Sit on my dick. I need you on my fucking dick now, Angel.” 

Of course, you comply, despite your legs trembling slightly, letting Seonghwa slip out of his bottoms. His arm is wrapped around your waist, pulling you impossibly close to him, his lips making a whole garden of bites down your neck before he has both his hands lift your hips. 

Seonghwa lines himself against your fluttering cunt and he pushes himself into your pussy hole, his moans of relief sending you into a spiral on top of his cock sinking into you. 

Fuck, he’s filling you up so fucking good. 

“Fuck. That’s it, babe. You’re so fucking good”, he groans when you squeeze against him. 

“Hwa, oh my fucking god, you’re so full in me”, you sob, trying to adjust to his length. 

“Do you think we can find the piece better like this?” He jokes while peppering kisses down your neck to distract himself so he doesn’t fucking just burst in you just yet. 

Even in your pleasured haze, you still manage to laugh while you try to keep your eyes open. 

“I think we can”, you reply with a giggle, before squealing when you feel him twitch in you. You shift forward slightly, feeling his cock shift in you, dragging along your walls, a small whine escaping past your lips. 

With the last of your sanity remaining, you glance over the desk one more time, biting your lip to stay grounded, obviously to no avail, especially not with Seonghwa and his little movement behind you. 

“I really think it’s-fuck-not here”, Seonghwa mutters behind you, forcing himself not to thrust into you, his fingers slithering down to your wet clit once more. 

“I’m pretty sure it d-dropped. We haven’t checked the floor yet-ngh-right?” you manage to ask.

“Mmmm nope”, Seonghwa responds, mesmerised at the way your slick growing thicker on your clit and on his cock as he continues to rub your clit. “I guess we can do that later ‘cause I really need to fuck your pussy right now, Angel.” 

He doesn’t give you much time to answer because you’re a complete goner when Seonghwa is making you bounce off his cock while he gets you off with his fingers. 

You’re trembling from the sheer pleasure, your vision slowly growing hazy, the knot tightening in your abdomen more quickly than you thought. 

“H-Hwa! Gonna cum-Oh fuckkkk”, you draw out, white clouding your vision. Your cunt flutters around his cock, dopamine shooting up your body while you completely let go on his cock as Seonghwa fucks you through your orgasm.

“Fuck, you’re such a good fucking girl. “That’s it. Be a good girl and cum on my dick like that, Angel”, Seonghwa groans into your ear, his gaze traveling down at the way your thick cream streaks down his cock when he pulls out. He shuts his eyes, sighing into the nape of your neck while he listens to the way your cunt is just so loud and wet for him while he fucks your cream out of you, thrusting his hips upwards. 

“God, your pussy feels so fucking perfect. Fuck. I’m gonna cum. Gonna fill you up so good baby”, he pants before his hips thrust and press against yours, filling you up with his warm and thick cum accompanied by his low groans. 

You feel Seonghwa’s hands run down your body, soothing you after emptying his fucking load into you before he slowly pulls out of your cum-filled pussy. 

“I’ll get you a towel, Angel”, Seonghwa tells you, pressing his lips on your temple before leaving the bed. 

He retrieves a spare towel from the bathroom and cleans you up, before releasing you to wash up in the bathroom. 

When you renter his room, Seonghwa is switching gazes between his half-completed set and the instruction manual. 

He looks up at you with a grin that’s making you feel uneasy. 

“Babe, turns out I wasn’t missing a piece—I already had it in all along!”

Taglist: @bro-atz @diamond-3 @mcarebearsstuff @choisansplushie @pre1ttyies @songmingisthighs @yeosangiess @mylovelymito @softwsan @yourlocaljonghoe @itza-meee @ywtf @jeon-ify @miss-fallon @bunnyluvr25 @eggyboy5 @hourswithoutyou @iwishiwasthemoontonight @yunhogrippers @watermelon2319 @vampiregirl215 @kibs-and-bits @s-h-y-a @luvt0kki @httpseungmxn @vic0921 @sanhwajoong @bitejoongie @no1likevie @woojirang @jjoongstar @yuyusgirl

[thinkinonsense]

WICKED

old man!logan howlett x young fem!reader

cw: cheating, heavy flirting, smut, kinda dark

authors note: i have no idea what came over me and i cannot explain it. also! gif credit to the amazing n talented @silverskyeline <333

he never should've gone to the bar. never should've let you run your pretty mouth. most definitely never should've bought you that martini. every weekend he watches you seduce the men at the bar until one of them falls into your trap.

logan would scoff, mumbling something under his breath about how stupid that bastard must be. despite the fact that the only thing holding him back from your advances was the thick gold band on his finger, reminding him of where his loyalty should be.

"lovely seeing you here again, logan."

he loathed your wicked smile and how your voice sounded like rain fall. trying his best to avoid staring into the eye of the storm but your presence demanded to be seen. practically ripping his hazel gaze off the wooden table and over to that tiny dress you were wearing. dark navy tight against your skin in a way that could make any man sin.

"missed ya' last weekend." you purr. "where were you at?"

"home." he states, gruffly.

"that's boring. why were you at home?"

"wedding anniversary."

the words made your tummy flip with excitement. you didn’t know much about logan outside of his favorite brands of alcohol, but you did know that he had a wife at home. he never mentioned her by name. sometimes, she would call the bar if it was “too late” for him to be out but other than that, she was a ghost.

“cute. you should bring her here one weekend.” you propose, almost making logan choke on his whisky. “bet she would love to see where you run and hide at night.”

“it’s not her kinda scene.” he responds.

“aw, i’m sure we would be friends.”

“doubtful.”

“and why’s that?” you fake pout.

logan leans in close before whispering, “don’t think she would appreciate you beggin’ for her husband to fuck you in a dirty bar bathroom every weekend.”

“i didn’t say we would stay friends.” you giggle, making his cock stir in his work pants. “also, the invite is still open if you miss fuckin’ someone younger.”

the second you are out of sight, off in the pool room next door annoying some other asshole, he groans under his breath. logan hated how well you read him. you knew he wanted you but you were smart enough to make him come crawling to you if he wanted to feel your tight cunt wrapped around him.

after a couple minutes, a few men left the room and logan got up to take their place. when he walked inside he saw it was empty except for you sitting in one of the chairs on your phone.

“glad you decided to join me.” you smile up at him.

logan ignores you instead going over to get a stick and start playing. you finish your martini and join him as he sets up the balls. catching you off guard, he tosses you a stick too.

“if i win, you leave me alone for good.” he huffs in your face.

“sure but what do i get when i win?” you smirk.

logan ignores your question and growls, “ladies first.”

it's dead silent as you bend over the pool table to line your stick up to the diamond. logan's far too busy staring at the wet spot on your light blue panties. he never admit it, even if you knew for sure that's where his eyes were. it wasn't until he lost sight of the spot that he realized you already took your shot.

"your turn, old man." you tease, moving out of his way.

the two of you go back and forth for a bit but you were growing tired of this game. instead you decided to make things even more interesting.

"so when i win, are you going to finally fuck me?" your bluntness always left logan speechless.

"you already know the answer to that, sweetheart." he replies, trying to focus before shooting.

"sure, blah, blah, blah, something wife." you mock with an eye roll that almost made logan chuckle. "but seriously? when was the last time you two had sex? you probably got cobwebs in there."

that got a small smirk out of him. one that you count as a win.

"it's just a band. it comes off, see?" you lean over and take the ring off of his finger, placing it on the table.

logan stared at it for too long. feeling the distance of his commitments. you turn his head towards you with a light hook on his grey bearded chin. the lust in his eyes told you that you had won.

"you know what else comes off that easily?" you whisper, lips inches from his. "my panties."

a good man would've walked away. a good man would've returned home to his wife. but logan wasn't a good man. never had been and never would be.

an animalistic urge fell over him, grabbing you with the ease of a rag doll and bending you over the pool table. the wedding band was inches from your parted lips, moaning prettily as logan spread you open with his thumbs and licked a wide strip up your cunt, burying his face in your arousal and letting it coat his beard until he could only taste you.

"f-fuck me." logan groans, pulling back to catch his breath. "taste better than i imagined."

"knew you wanted me." you smirk, feeling his middle finger circle your entrance before pushing in. a loud moan is pulled from your throat as he hits that spongey spot with ease.

"weren't lying 'bout being tight." logan marvels, watching the way you suck in his finger.

he attempts to push in his ring finger as well and you wish you could've seen his face while he struggle to get it in. quickly, you reach for the wedding ring next to you then grab his hand from inside you. fumbling to get the ring back on him before he questions you.

"what are you—"

"go on." you coax, looking back at him with dark eyes. "try it now."

logan shouldn't have been so turned on from the image of his wedding ring coated in your slick; but here he was watching it disappear and reappear inside of you.

"right—fuck! r-right there..." you pant, arching farther back to meet his thrusts.

"does it turn you on being a homewreaker?" logan asks, back up on his feet and nibbling at your ear. "knowing that you have a old married man fucking you with his wedding band on?"

"mhm..." you mumble against the table. he takes the opportunity to pick up his pace, feeling you clench down. "d-don't stop..."

within seconds, your gushing around his fingers and dripping down his hand. right when he pulled out of you, you turn around and push him back into one of the plush chairs to undo his belt. falling to your knees, you begin to stroke him, tracing his veins with your tongue and tapping the tip on it.

"always knew you had quite the mouth on ya', princess." he grunts with a fist full of your hair.

you smile, taking him all the way until his tip hit the back of your throat and the hairs at his base tickled your nose. logan was finding it harder and harder to control his animalistic urge while your gagging and drooling all over his lap. quickly, you release him with a pop and stand up to straddle him, lining him up to your entrance and sinking down slowly.

"shit, you're so fucking tight." he says, gripping your hips hard enough to leave bruises.

"only for you, logan." you whine, grinding down on him, rocking back and forth.

roughly, logan pulls the rest of your dress off of you, throwing it on the floor somewhere behind you. large hands touching you all over in ways you've only dreamt of. meanwhile, your attacking his neck like a madwoman. biting and marking him up like he's yours.

desperately, logan fucks up into you, needing more. his tip nudges that sweet spot within you, making you moan loudly in his ear, encouraging him to go faster. so focused on the squealing of your soaked pussy. he captures your lips, kissing you tenderly. you can feel his high approaching, twitching inside of you, and you needed to do one last thing before it hit him.

carefully you pull away, gripping his chin and pulling him face to face with you. his eyes are blown out with desire as he stares at you.

"tell me your mine, lo." you whisper against his lips.

logan can feel you clench tightly around him, waiting for him to give into you completely. he presses his thumb down on your button, moving in fast circles to get you there with him.

"f-fuck, i'm yours, baby." he moans, coating your walls with spurts of his release. "i'm yours."

"t-that's right." you moan, kissing him roughly as your high washes over you.

"you look so pretty like this." he coos, watching the pleasure run over you.

for a moment the two of you sit still, trying to catch your breath. logan's mind races, not meaning to cum inside of you but it's far too late now.

"lets keep this a secret between the two of us, huh?" he says while you play with his hand, mischievously. before he can notice, you pocket the ring.

"sure thing, baby." you reply. "i'll gladly be your little secret but have fun explaining those marks to the old ball and chain."

logan looks down at you and that wicked smile of yours, only to realize just how fucked he is.

[toxicanonymity]

omg the way every inch makes me drool idk what u did to me i haven’t been the same since 😃 ur so talented i owe u my kidney for that fic alone ! would ever consider part two?? no pressure !!!

EVERY INCH 2

2200 words, m!ghostface x f!reader

follows Every Inch. NEXT: Every inch 3

SERIES MASTERLIST

A/N: He's never unmasked. He is night walks coded. Thank you for all the love on my first Ghostface fic. This was a "one shot fail" because of your engagement & enthusiasm. WARNINGS: I8+ piv, noncon, he calls himself daddy, voyeurism, dirty talk, masturbation, knifeplay, hair pulling, manhandling, choking kinda, degradation, pet names. NO USE OF Y/N. 

SUMMARY: Last time you saw ghostface, he was unconscious from the car wreck and you had your way with him. Now, he's coming to take what's his.

You've put Ghostface behind you, at least in terms of fearing for your life. He's finally left you alone. He must be too humiliated to face you after you restrained him and had your way with him in the car while he was passed out. You still look at the picture you took every day.  You'd like to get it printed and stick it on your bathroom mirror.  He looks so pathetic with his own mess all over his robe. But it's not just the humiliation you love to see. It's his cock. . .

Yeah, his cock.  You've thought about it more than a few times. He would've given you every inch. All you had to do was ask. And the video of him whimpering? You save that for special occasions. Like when you need to cum in a hurry. 

It's Friday night and you're lying in bed after getting home from seeing a movie.  You make sure your vibrator is charged before you start reading, but soon enough you get distracted.  You're looking at your video of Ghostface coming all over himself when a call pops up on the screen. No ringtone.  Your phone is still on silent from the theater.  

The restricted number still makes your heart jump even after such an empowering victory. But you rip the bandaid off and answer it on the first ring. "Hello?"

"So... how'd you like the movie?" the voice changer asks you. 

You panic and hang up, but when he calls right back, you answer again. "This isn't funny, whoever you are."

"You know it's me, baby. You feel it in your. . . pants."

"What do you want?"

"I asked how you liked the movie." 

Friday night. Lucky guess. You know he’s not going to let it go, so you might as well answer. You’re not going to give him the satisfaction of acting aghast that he knows what you did tonight.  "Fine, I liked it. It was fun,” you say dismissively. 

"Picked a bad time to refill your drink. . .  Missed a great kill."

Your heart jumps. ". . .you were there?" The theater wasn't even that crowded. How could he go undetected? Surely you would have recognized something about a man you rode into oblivion. 

He's bemused. "What, you thought I was gone? Nowhere?”

"wishful thinking," you reply. 

Ghostface says, “Oh, we both know what you really wish for. . .”

You’re not even going to argue. 

“How was your date?" 

"How was yours with your hand?" You retort.

"You didn't look interested.” 

"What, are you gonna ask me out?" Your face heats up as you hear your own words.

"Not tonight. 'Cause you've got a date with that toy and my picture, don't ya?”

You freeze. 

He taunts, "Want a third wheel?"

You ask, "How long have you been watching me?"

"Never stopped, sugar." You feel like a fool for thinking he had. “I’ve just been a little. . . distracted.” 

You scoff. 

". . . Okay, did you call just to talk?"

"Wanted some audio with my visual this time."

"Pervert."

“oh I'm the pervert," he chides. Your face is burning up.

"You know, you’ve still got something of mine.”  His knife. You’ve hid it somewhere special.  “Keep comin’ for it. . .but don’t wanna interrupt you.”  

You look out your window, which faces the woods.  "Cause you put on a good show, baby." There’s never been a reason to close the curtains.  You preferred to see danger coming. Danger like him. A lot of good that’s done you. 

“You’re a creature of habit, aren’t you?” 

Are you that predictable?  

“Lucky for me,” he adds darkly.  His breathing becomes audible.  “Oh, you like this, don't you . . . knew ya would. . .  .  .Dripping already.” His voice is steady through the equalizer, but his speech pattern tells you his dick is hard. And god damn if he isn’t turning you on. 

“Dip a finger and show daddy how wet you are.” 

Before you know it, you're doing it. You don’t show him, but you curiously dip you fingers and pull apart the clear string of of your arousal

“Two fingers . . let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”  You lie there clenching your thighs together. 

“Ah, fuck it. Go ahead, turn it on,” he says but you don’t move. You clench your thighs together.  “Turn it on,” he repeats firmer, and something possesses you to turn your vibrator on. 

“Yeah, that’s it . . .”

You don’t even need the picture now, or the video, or your reading. But you don’t exactly want to let him make you come this fast. 

He sighs and says, “You’ve got a nice, juicy pussy." He spits, which the voice changer doesn’t process.

You close your eyes and recall what it felt like impaling yourself on his cock. 

"You don't have to say it," he reassures you menacingly. "I know I’ve got a nice cock.” 

He’s right about that.  You close your eyes as you touch yourself.  You’re too horny to think straight, but in the back of your mind, you try to tell yourself he killed your friends. He killed your friends. It doesn’t make you any less turned on. You sigh in shame at yourself. How does Ghostface have you wrapped around his finger?

“Oh, it’s only natural, baby. This cock’ll fuck you right up.” God, why does that turn you on? “In the guts and the head.” 

"Real shame I wasn’t awake.” He breathes heavily for a few seconds. "Coulda been even better for you.” 

You fail to suppress a moan as heat is bubbling in your core. 

“Yeah. . .Can’t stop thinkin' about this cock, can ya?” 

You turn up the intensity of your vibe. 

“Not everyday someone takes every inch of this.” He moans weakly then spits again. “Filthy girl.  Swallowed it right up.” 

“So tell me, sugar," his breathing is even heavier now. "How do you want it?”

“What if i don’t” you lie, then gasp at the tension in your core.

“Then why’d you take it,” he says with a bite and the heavy breathing stops. 

“Because,” you pant. “It was there.”

You’re getting close.  “How do you want me,” you self-loathingly ask. He doesn’t answer. You look at your phone and he’s gone. Shit. You open the video you took of him and as soon as you hear him whimper, your body jerks as the tension bursts inside you. As soon as you finish pulsing, the regret hits you like a tidal wave. So fucked up. Soooo disgusting.  You need a shower. 

—---

You take a long, hot shower, listening to music. You sigh, feeling a little better already. You turn off the water.

“Soaking wet. That’s how I want you.” You freeze and the only sound is the dripping water for a few seconds while the song changes.  

“Come on, you’re smarter than this.” The voice changer echoes through your bathroom and you almost fall over. “What’s next? Going down to the basement?”

You stand silently in the shower with your heartbeat echoing in your ears.  There’s nothing you can do.  You squat down, hugging your knees.  There’s no good option.   

The shower curtain slowly draws open and he looms above you.

“My turn, baby."  The glint of a knife–your own kitchen knife–catches your eye. He tilts his head slightly and observes you for a moment.  Then he pulls your hair and violently forces you to your feet. You begin to slip and he catches you, then manhandles you out of the tub and you whimper. You’re thrashing around wet and naked.  He drags you to the bathroom sink and puts you between him and the sink, both of you facing the mirror. He reaches out and wipes the mirror with his robe to make sure you can see. 

The sight is surreal. You’re completely nude with Ghostface up against you.  One gloved hand cups your breast while the other raises the knife.  He stays behind you and holds your own kitchen knife to your throat.  

He inhales audibly. “So clean and so filthy.”  

You elbow him in the gut. “Let go of me.” 

“Afraid not, baby. . .” The hand leaves your breast and slides lower.  He presses on your hip, bringing you tight against him. “Too late now.” His hips push forward and the massive shape of his hard cock makes you weak. 

He holds you still with just one of his big arms as you struggle.  “Coulda had it how ya wanted.” 

The unwelcome throb between your legs is spreading through your abdomen. 

“Now you’re gonna take it right here.”  He keeps you pinned to the counter, the arm with the knife holding you still while he lifts his robe and tugs his PJ pants down.  “You’ve put me behind you after all.”  He jerks you back against him, pulling you off the counter and holding you tight against his hard dick.  He lightly trails the tip of the knife down your cleavage and your stomach, dipping into your belly button on its way down to your mound. Then he holds it handle-up and teases your cunt with the flat of the knife as you watch in the mirror. The cold metal sends a shiver down your spine and you watch your nipples harden.

“Who are you?”

“Your favorite bad guy. Ask me a. . . harder one.” He grinds himself against you.

“What do you want?”

“To know what your insides feel like.” You suck in a deep breath and register the smell of weed as his cock twitches against your bare skin. “When I’m awake,” he adds. 

He pries your legs apart with his knee, then his glove brushes your inner thighs as he aligns his cock at your entrance. “Oh you’re ready ready,” he says. He notches himself with the thick head of his cock resting snug against your wet little hole, then he holds you tight and shoves himself into you with a sigh.  You have to try not to moan with the most welcome stretch. “Hell yeah,” the mask says into your ear. Thank God you’re so wet, because there is a lot of him. He pulls back, then slams into you, bottoming out with a grunt then another sigh. You watch your face in the mirror and try to wipe the enjoyment off it. 

The hand with the knife rests against your chest as he pounds you. “You’re lucky you’re so hot.” You want to memorize the feeling of his cock inside you so you can come to it later instead of giving him the satisfaction right now.  He pants as he thrusts into you harder.  “So. . .damn. . . hot.” You look down watching your breasts jiggle as he rails you. “I don’t think so. . . baby.” He grabs your chin and makes you look back up at the mirror. Your drooping eyelids give away how good you feel. 

“Take it like a bad girl.” He grunts and brutally fucks you in the way you’re afraid only he can. No, no, you shouldn’t be thinking thoughts like this. “A real bad girl.” A climax is gathering in your lower belly.  “Cock hungry little slut,” he bites and it makes you twitch. “This pussy’s mine now, you know.” 

He buries himself inside you for another minute and makes it rough. “Now or never baby," he pants. “Know you wanna come on this cock.” God, you do. “Do it now.”  He slams into you harder than ever and groans as he begins to pulse inside you.  You can’t stop it. The feeling of his climax trips you into your own.  Your needy cunt chokes his cock, milking him of an unfathomable load.  He fucks you through it and your body jerks into his imposing, robed form. His cum is in every crevice of your core.  You can’t help but moan and sigh.

“Good girl,” he says.

His cock slides out of you, leaving a void that slowly caves in on itself. He tucks it back into his pants. 

------

Ghostface forcibly positions your chin to take one last look in the mirror. Then he picks up your phone from the counter and forces you to swipe the camera on.  He points it at the mirror and says, “say cheese.” He tosses your phone back on the counter, then slams you chest-first into the back of the door with an impact. He holds the knife to the side of your neck and says, “you’re welcome.” He really smells like weed.

“Now where’s my knife.”

“I don’t have it,” you claim. 

“I don’t believe you.” 

“What’s so special about it?”

“It’s mine.” 

“The cops have it.” 

“No they don’t. Why are you lying?”

You’re not really sure. He presses the flat of the knife so hard against your throat you start to choke. “Okay,” you manage hoarsely. He lets you breathe.  You look behind him toward the toilet. 

He drags you by the elbow to the toilet. He opens the back of it and the knife is wrapped up in a grocery bag. “You watch too many movies,” he says. He pushes you out of the way, opens the door, and leaves. The song turns to Call Me by Blondie.

NEXT: PART 3

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

Please engage (reblog/comment)  if you want more of this <333 It might go a long way in motivation.

Yes this is my night walks coded ghostface but I think most people reading this don't know what night walks is lol.

Call Me:This Blog::Red Right Hand:Canon. But in this case it especially makes sense 🥹

@hearteyed-shawty had a song rec last time: I'm Yours by Isabel Derosa.

Slasher master list

@ghostslittlegf @sunflowerleii @igotmajordaddyissues @rileyquinn07

[fairene]

passenger princess / ln4

established relationship lando norris x fem!reader

no use of y/n, as always.

in which the weekend takes a twist, and all you want is a baby.

prompt⋯ hi! first of all, i absolutely ADORE your writing. i’ve been reading all of your stuff for the past few days!! second, i was scrolling on pinterest and i rediscovered the lando daddy bracelet pic. that combined with THE dutch gp pic made me be down even worse for him. with that i request a fic with an established reader x lando relationship. that’s set during the weekend of the 2024 dutch gp. where he wears the bracelet over the course of the weekend and it gets you(? or me? idk how to phrase that) really worked up, and after he wins they fuck while he’s still wearing it. and it’s like the most rough feral sex known to mankind. but at the end you want him to come in you and he’s like “oh you wanna make me a daddy”. like yes it is a slight breeding kink but it’s more of the idea of the bracelet and how he definitely knew what he was doing when he wore it (in the fic and irl too tbh). that’s the general idea but feel free to put your own spin on it!! i am incredibly down bad for him and that photo did something to me. ty 🤗🧡

a/n ⋯ yeah tbh i got no excuse for this one chat...like...how could i not resist a breeding kink...i know y'all want it too. but for real--- thank you anon for being patient. i had a lot of fun writing this in between doing work. writing is an escape for me. thank you to all for the continued support, and i'll be continuing to get through asks as time moves along. comment below to be added to my taglist, or comment in general! i love replying to all of them as much as i can.

warnings ⋯ SMUT 18+++!!! minors DNI!!!, language, choking, p in v sex (wrap before you tap!), fingering!(f)receiving, breeding kink, impregnation, teasing, possessiveness, jealousy, creampie, begging, mating press-- allat shit tbh. if i miss a warning, let me know.

wc ⋯ 8.5k (unedited.)

things had begun to be different between you and lando. you couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment when the gears shifted, the stars aligned, though you only cared how good it made you feel with him. 

but he knew. he knew exactly when.

you’d been dating lando for two years now. it was two years of pure bliss— the exciting lifestyle that you’ve craved, the love and care, the passion that you shared with him was exquisitely yours. he is yours. and you are his.

that morning in the paddock he was speaking to max, chattering about the post collision from hungaroring. they seemed to make up in due time, finding it easier to call one another “brother’s” again, despite the damages done to their cars and the media in an uproar about their impish, punitive behaviors. you didn’t spare any glance towards the comments made about it, knowing that lando had been in a rough shape that weekend. 

you played with penelope, p, as they were talking, squatted on the ground with colored pens in your hand. kelly loomed behind, on her phone, thankful enough that you could occupy her for the time being. you had no issue entertaining her. you loved being around children…most of the time. 

“this one?” you held out the red pen for p, as she was pointing to with a bashful look. she was shy– especially around you, given your ethereal, wanderlust nature. you carried yourself in such an elegant way that could facilitate a ray of sunlight through the most tepid storms. 

she nodded and you handed it to her. she latched her smaller hand around it, coloring in the rb20 from her sketchbook. your hand fell beneath your chin as you watched her carefully color inside the lines, dreading falling out of it. you smiled as she did, the dress you wore crinkling fashionably around your thighs. 

p flashed the page at you nervously, awaiting her input. your eyes glowed, sparkles falling onto the page as you scanned it. she really did do a good job.

“beautiful, p!” you commented, your palm splaying over her upper back. “you’re really good at this, you know?”

a shade of red filled her cheeks, warming her skin. you hadn’t meant to embarrass her, nor make her nervous. 

“do you want to color one with me?” you asked her, pointing to the pages in the book. she hesitated for a moment, as if she didn’t hear you properly, but ended up nodding with the same excitement that she did when she’d see max on the podium. “you pick. something…pretty.”

the gears were turning in her head as she flipped through the pages, trying to find the perfect one for you and her to work on. you, on the other hand, were focused on how her brows scrunched together as she furiously searched through her booklet. it was cute the way she perceived things. she was a cutie. it made you think about your own future, what you wanted. 

what you wanted,

your eyes drifted from the carpeted floors inside the hospitality room, to the shoes that he wore, and up his black jeans to the papaya livery he sported for the day. you lingered on the expanse of his chest, the tan skin peaking through the v-neck of his unbuttoned collar. your mouth watered instinctively, thinking about how lucky you were to have a man like lando love you so deeply.

as you glanced further up towards his chin, the unshaved rigid surface that sparked electricity over your body, you found him already looking down at you. he wasn’t even paying attention to max at this point, already giving you all of his attention and you didn’t even need to ask. 

you gave him a smile, covering your lips afterward to stifle your giggle, and turned back to p once she tapped you that she’d found a picture for the two of you to color.

“mate?”

lando was lost in a daze staring at you. gawking at your figure, the dress you decided to wear. it was a denim colored sheath that you’d twin with alexandra with. she’d wear the gia dress in a pomegranate hue, whereas you took the navy. 

lando’s hand was cupped against his chin, rubbing over his stubble, keen on watching how you interacted with p. 

your relationship had progressed further than he’s ever gotten to before in his life. he was at a point where he knew he didn’t want anyone else, to explore someone else’s body the way he did yours. he knew you, inside and out, and he didn’t think another connection was even fathomable. 

you appeared to be so gentle with her, taking the time to listen to what she wanted you to do, how to color, maneuver the pens. there would be no outside the line coloring on her watch, that was for sure. 

he found himself smiling bright. 

do you want kids? 

he knew that he did. he always knew that. but he’d never broach the subject to you directly. your relationship with him was secure, but was it eligible to be taken to the next level? would you be frightened by his sudden urge to create a life with you? a product of him, and the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen?

“yeah? sorry.” lando looked back towards max. but it was too late, and max was looking over his shoulder towards you and p.

when he looked back towards lando, he threw his hands up in defense. max rolled his eyes. “don’t know why you haven’t proposed to her yet. what’re you waiting for?” 

lando bristled. he waited a moment to answer, wondering the same fucking thing. what was he waiting on? the perfect time, perhaps. summer break was rapidly approaching, and he certainly had a ring picked out. 

the papaya clad driver pulled out his phone and scrolled through his photos, settled on the right one, and handed it to max. the other driver took it, zooming in, not that he needed to. 

“when?”

lando shrugged. “summer break. greece, maybe.” 

max cheered, slapping his hand over his mouth in shock. “you’re serious, mate?” lando nodded. max pulled him in for a hug, slapping him over the back. he couldn’t be happier for his best friend in this moment, starting to jump up and down. lando settled him down and slid his phone back into his pocket. 

“keep it quiet. i want her to be surprised.” 

max made a motion of a lock and key. “surprised about what?” 

lando felt giddy.

you hadn’t been paying much attention to what lando nor max were chittering about. you’d been so hyper focused on coloring with p, that you were absent minded of the conversation behind you. 

p had picked out a cartoon illustration of max and lando smiling towards the viewer. you’d thought it was an adorable choice, and it showed that p was more aware than what she led on to be. she, of course, started coloring in max. with his neutrally blonde hair, redbull cap, she was fast working. 

but then she shoved the book towards you, politely anyways, and pointed at lando, who was yet to be colored in. 

“my turn?” she nodded her head, handing you the orange marker. 

you grinned, carefully coloring in the lines of the drawing before p took a deep breath. “are you and lando married?” 

the question had you freeze momentarily, taken back by her question. “no, p, we’re not.” 

you continued to color, whilst she continued to question. “why not?”

“because he hasn’t asked me.”

“why don’t you ask him?” 

“i’m not sure that’s what he wants.”

p raised a brow. she looked towards lando and max, giggling together like school girls, then back to you and your focused coloring.

she handed you a brown marker for lando’s curls. “i think you should.”

now it was your turn to be inquisitive, “really, now?”

she nodded her head without hesitating. “then you’d be my aunt!” she giggled. 

you colored in lando’s curls, carefully, diligently, thinking of how they felt beneath your fingertips. your breath hitched thinking about the thought of him proposing, wondering if he had ever even thought about it. you knew what your answer would be. it wouldn’t even take a beat of your heart to give him in answer, if he chose to ask. if he chose you. 

with one final stripe of a black marker, your drawing of lando had been finished. you stood up, and so did p. 

“are you going to have babies?”

“p!” you gasped, mouth dropping. “that’s none of your business, young lady.” 

she laughed, twirling around. “what? that’s what mama says happens when you love someone.” confident, wasn’t she? “do you love lando?”

“of course i do, p.”

she gasped.

“is there a baby in there right now?!” she seemed concerned, becoming so bold as to touch your stomach. it was a little higher than where your womb sat beneath your skin, but close enough. 

you shook your head. “no, honey. i am not having a baby right now.” 

she looked disappointed. taking her hand back, she crossed them over her chest. 

“penelope, what are you going on about?” kelly finally chimed in, rubbing p’s back with her hand. 

“nothing.” 

but it wasn’t nothing.

lando appeared behind you, a hand on your lower back. you leaned into him, recognizing his touch, and you got a brief wave of panic wondering if he heard your conversation with p. 

“p,” lando said over your shoulder. she looked up. “do you still have your bracelet making kit?” 

she nodded again, though you weren’t quite sure what he’d need it for. you guessed you’d find out eventually, because lando uttered, “it’s a secret, sorry baby.”

and he followed p to her small table, pulling out the kit from her backpack. she had taken lando’s hand to guide him, and you watched fondly. 

too fondly, you thought, and knew you were in deep shit.

the morning of the dutch grand prix had you biting at the corners of your fingernails with anticipation. the summer break you had spent with lando was more than you could imagine— filled with delicious foods, sunny weather, morning swims, and of course, the sex. with more free time that lando had, he was utterly obsessed with you. he worshiped the ground you walked on, and it made you feel like more than the queen you deserved to be. 

in the paddock you stood, shifting on your feet, anxiously fiddling with your purse once your fingernails sufficed. lily joined at your side, ethereal with her effortless beauty, and she nudged you with her elbow. “you look nervous,” she gave a short laugh.

you scoffed but joined in on her antics. “do i?” you certainly did. lily raised her brows to inquire further of your apparent distress. 

relenting, you couldn’t resist her. there was no reason to— you were both practically attached at the hip. ever since oscar had been signed to mclaren, the two of you were inseparable. the famous mclaren WAGs. 

your relationship with lando had been going on for two years now. sure, you’d had some rocky slopes to climb with the schedule of his career and the development of your own; that’s the thing about relationships though, isn’t it? that no matter what hill you’d have to climb, you’d find one another on the other side. the two of you wanted to make it work, so there was no obsolete universe in which you’d never find each other. 

“he needs this, lils.” you practically sighed, finally gaining the courage to look her in the eye. she looked at you with the same softness that a mother would, or a best friend that you could count on. 

“you know he’ll do well.” oh, don’t you know it. lando, whilst on vacation, never took a moment’s worth of rest. he wanted this just as much as you did for him, a second career win. it was all that you could think about the moment you stepped off the plane before him in zandvoort. it was going to happen. you had a feeling. 

and a good one at that. 

qualifying swept by in a flash. the saturday afternoon was a clean sweep for your boyfriend in the front row. you couldn’t be more proud of him. when he was finished with his interviews and taking his leave with his half removed fireguard, you launched at him.

flinging your arms around his neck, he gripped onto your waist and thighs like his life depended on it. it did. your nose found the sweat against the column of his neck, inhaling deeply. you melted into him.

lando felt the same. with his forehead burrowing into the hair on your scalp, he let out a deep breath that he’d been holding since he got out of the car. 

“missed my sweet girl,” he breathed, the sweat and perspiration heating the hairs on your head. you sighed softly, relaxing into him as he held you tighter. 

you broke away from him, setting yourself on the ground. you stood happily in front of him, rocking on your heels and playing with the hem of the black, sponser-ridden firesuit. 

“‘m so fucking proud, lan. pole? pole on the first race back?” you were in shellshock, overjoyed disbelief. 

he raised a hand to cup your face before he’d be whisked away. the bracelet on his wrist caught your eye, one that he must’ve put on once he stepped out of the car. the friendship letter bracelet read loudly to you, it letters all capitalized. 

‘daddy’

you gripped his hand, observing the ornament. you raised a brow. is this the bracelet he had made with p? 

lando let out a short laugh. “like it?” 

you flushed, staring down at the small, dainty thing. it had you shifting on your feet, ideas and fantasies running wild through your pillage of a mind. “maybe.” you hummed, stroking the beads with your index finger. 

“wore it for you.” 

the statement had you standing up straight. “really now?” lando nodded. 

and before he was whisked away, he whispered into your ear, “don’t get any ideas, baby. i know that look.” 

you were rendered speechless, and by the time you managed to open your mouth, he had already left through the door. 

the following day was race day. you were dressed flawlessly, curating perfection with your outfits to match the same prestige that lando had with his fans. also, you enjoyed feeling pretty. looking pretty, as lando would often say to you. he didn’t forget this morning either, arriving to the paddock with you in tow, hand wrapped tightly with yours.

as he took selfie after selfie, signed hat after hat, he didn’t forget to remind you, “you look beautiful,” that always brought a smile to your face, a blush fanning your cheeks. 

when the two of you made it inside of mclaren’s hospitality, you were greeted by both lily and oscar. you gave her a warming hug, and she returned it with the same affirmation. when you separated, she danced on her tip-toes. lando and oscar side stepped toward the tea and coffee station, chatting amongst themselves. 

“wow!” you were confused, raising a brow. “front row for him, hmm? told you, had nothing to worry about.” 

you rolled your eyes, still holding anxieties for the race. you were always concerned going into a weekend. no matter how many grand prix’s you’ve attended, seen lando come out safe and sound, you still picked at the skin of your fingertips. anxious habits die hard. 

lando’s managers came in alongside oscar’s beckoning both mclaren drivers to follow them to get ready for the race. lando found you instantly, his hands finding the handles on your hips, squeezing inward. you tensed at the action, wondering what had him on such edge. 

you spun, hands running from his chest up to his neck, his cheeks. you cupped his face in your hands, sheepishly smiling. 

“you’ll win this for me?”

he scoffed, “always.” 

you smiled harder—if that was possible— and connected your lips with his. he returned your kiss, diving deep into your mouth. he held you close by your lower back, as if this was the last time that he’d ever kiss you. he sought to deepen your kiss by the clacking of your teeth, his tongue incessantly searching the inside of your mouth. 

you separated yourself, still holding onto his cheeks. lando dipped his forehead against yours, seeking another kiss, but you pulled away. “go. they’re waiting for you.” 

“don’t care.” 

you flushed, allowing him one last peck before you patted his cheek. “seriously. go.” 

he chuckled to himself, kissing the top of your head, uttering a soft “i love you,” before being swept away. 

“i love you too.” you mouthed, returning your attention back to lily. she was in awe of how you and lando behaved, carving such a rugged, playful boy into a man of posture and mannerisms that were only reflected by your good nature. 

“what?”

“nothing…” she looked away.

“lily.” 

“you’ve got that man on a leash,” she broke into a fit of giggles. you looked back to where they were walking out. lando had been looking for you, then at you. he gave a wave, you returned it, then looked back at lily. 

“i prefer the term ‘free-roaming.’” 

the race was coming to an end with a single lap left. lando led the race with a twenty-two second lead, and your hands were clasped tightly together with your headset on. you listened carefully to his radio messages, sassy and revving, and had your eyes locked onto the screen in front of you. with lily by your side, the two of you were anxiously awaiting the end.

your face suddenly appeared on screen, displaying your glistening eyes, perfectly done makeup and hair. a chic smile grew on your cheeks. you turned towards the camera man and allotted a small wave. your name appeared under the screen, lando norris’ partner. 

god…

was there anything more prideful than that?

surely there was, but it didn’t matter to you. you were there to support your boyfriend, lando, your lando, and it was more than enough to see that you were recognized as that. 

the checkered flag appeared and lando was on the headline for crossing. you had to clutch your heart, hoping to grip it from the inside out to slow its beating, and it didn’t cease when his mcl38 zipped past the flag. 

there was an eruption of cheers throughout the garage and you were swarmed with love by the fellow mechanics and lily, too, who was happy for you to witness such a grand victory. a more than well earned victory. 

a second one in the books for him. you couldn’t have been happier. 

the podium gathering didn’t take long, and you managed to be at the front of the barricade, shoved forward by the team. you stood there, graceful and beautiful as he always saw you, and you were the loudest to clap and cheer as he walked out from the cool down room. 

“your winner, lando norris…!” and you couldn’t help the tears that fell down your cheeks, the camera picking up your emotional feedback on the big screen. his eyes caught to it from the bannister, stepping up onto the tallest podium, and found you right at the front. his heart melted, dripped a red hot flame that burned for you. to see you there for him, emotional above all, solidified his feelings. what he wanted in his future. 

you. you above anything else. you above racing, his career, his everything. he had nothing if you weren’t by his side. 

he took off his pirelli hat and let the national anthem play. the camera panned away from you then to zak brown. you swayed gently to the anthem, lost in your own world of loving him. you saw him through clear glasses, though he was always your rose. there was nothing more that you wanted in the future than to be with him. you and lando. 

after his attributed champagne pop, the crowd dissipated from the pit lane and you engaged in conversations with different women, friends, and coworkers of mclaren. you were jovial with your presence, engaged as much as you could be, though your thoughts kept tracing back to him. lando, lando, lando. 

you ended your evening in conversations with the ferrari women— alexandra, rebecca, and one of charles’ friends, marta. you’re a recent acquaintance, meeting her only just a few moments ago. she was noticeably pregnant, and you wondered if that was just the recurring theme of the day. 

“how far along are you?” rebecca chimed in. 

“about twenty weeks, i think.” she smiled, holding her bump and leaning back into one of her heels to get a more comfortable angle. 

“half way there! are you excited?” you asked her, sipping your sparkling water. 

“of course,” she grimaced, though there was joy behind her eyes. “it can be hard, but it’s worth it. always worth it to see my husband with my daughter, and now it’ll be brand new with this babe.” 

you gave her a heart-warming smile. 

“they kick every so often—” she grimaced again, reeling her face into a tight knot. “like right now. do you want to feel?” she was looking at you. it took you a second to understand that she was referring to you, but you jumped at the opportunity.

“are you sure…?” 

marta nodded. “put your hand here,” she placed your hand on her right side. you waited a moment before there was a small lurch beneath your palm. you looked up at her in pure disbelief, marveled by such a feeling. you wondered what it’d feel like to feel your own baby kick. 

“so…” alexandra leered mischievously, “do you plan on having children? with lando?” 

is everyone asking that today?

you stood up straight, embarrassed by the question, and brushed a piece of your hair behind your ear. “for sure. there’s no one else i want. whenever the time is right.” 

“he’d be such a good dad.” alexandra added, and you couldn’t agree more.

“you should’ve seen him earlier with penelope—” the girls were reeling at your story. “making bracelets with her. almost tripped over my own dress,” you covered your mouth to laugh, attempting to keep your voice down.

“someone has baby fever.” marta commented. 

“ugh,” rebecca groaned. “you two are picturesque. alex and i were just talking about it.” 

“oh?” you wished to know more by their insinuation. it wasn’t often that you listened to anything about you or lando’s relationship. half of the time it was negative comments from fans across social media, and you didn’t want the other half to get to your head. you knew you were lucky as is, the least you could do was stay humble. 

“ohhhh most definitely.” alexandra nodded. “you’ve been together for what— ever? we’re waiting for an engagement post.” 

you were floored. it has been a good amount of time. “so am i,” it came as a laugh. you wondered if lando thought about it. if the thought ever crossed his mind— the possibility of you becoming his wife. 

it did. 

he was watching you. he’d been done with his interviews for a good ten minutes now, but he was gripped by the scene unfolding before him. he had distracted himself by glancing at his phone, pretending to be scrolling through notifications. but he was staring. hard. 

your hand was so tender-loving as it grazed marta’s baby bump. you looked up at her with a graceful smile, asking her important questions about her pregnancy. why were you so interested? 

fuck, he hoped the answer he wanted was what you were thinking. 

you, pregnant in your floral dresses, pleated gowns, traipsing around the halls of your joint home. barefoot, glowing, effervescent. he could see it now. the vision coming to life, coming to fruition from just a mere fantasy. he felt his dick twitch in his pants, his groin running hot.

he overheard the conversation, too. 

“do you plan on having children? with lando?” 

for sure. there’s no one else i’d want. 

fuuuuck. lando had to turn around, attempting to calm himself down. his entire body was aflame, an eternal gloss of bliss for wanting you. needing you. he needed to feel you. your touch. your skin beneath him, the way you curl effortlessly against the shape of his body.

yeah, he’s fucked. 

after a few calming deep breaths, he was at least presentable. with his calmed down cock, he immediately made a beeline in your direction. he wanted—no, needed to get his hands around you as soon as possible. it was a world-ending feeling that suffocated him, gripped him by the throat. 

you heard him approach before you saw him. lando’s hands were warm around your hips as he pulled you close. you felt the outline of his cock in his pants as he jut his hips forward. you turned your head over your shoulder, glancing up at him. 

his nose found a home in the curve of your neck. you giggled when you felt his stubble tickle your skin, a hand coming instinctively to hold the side of his face tight against your skin. he breathed soundly against you, finding eternal peace of mind plastered against your body.

“it was nice seeing you alex, rebecca.” you began to bid your farewells. “marta, it was a pleasure to meet you.” marta leaned in for a hug, which pulled you away from the warmth of lando’s body. you felt like a snail ripped from its shell— hollow, cold. 

“the same for you,” pregnancy looked good on her. though, you can’t recall the last time you’ve seen her without a baby blooming inside her. “if you ever need advice…alex has my number.” 

you blushed, feeling lando’s hand around your lower belly tense. “thank you. i’ll be in touch.” you glance towards rebecca and alexandra, following lando’s pace back to the car.

lando’s eyes were hot as they drilled holes into the side of your head. you could feel it, though you weren’t even looking at him. “i can feel your urge to talk, lan.” 

he laughed, holding your hand tight in his. “no. no, it’s nothing.” 

you stopped dead in your tracks, pulling your hand from his, crossing your arms over your chest. 

“okay, okay,” he apologized, taking your hand back into his own, bringing it to his lips to kiss. his lips were warm and wet against your skin. your breath hitched.

“well, go on, then.” 

“this is the congratulations i get? damn, baby, you’re rugged.” 

you shoved his face away, beginning to walk back to the car once more. “you know i’m proud. don’t be silly, now.” 

“i know, i know,” there was a brief silence. “you can show me in other ways.” 

“lando!” you gasped, and he broke into a fit of laughter. “dirty bastard.” you mumbled. 

“what was that, baby?” 

“nothing. nothing. just like what you wanted to tell me, i guess.” two can play at this game. you heard him scoff, but ultimately relent. 

“alright, alright. i just…” he became shy with the tone of his voice. you could recognize it instantly. “heard your conversation with the girls, is all.” 

you attempted your best effort to still your facial expressions from annoyance, shock, embarrassment, and all of the fucking above. 

 “you heard…all of it?” 

“the gist.” 

you tried to cover your face to shield yourself from the world. god, that was your fucking nightmare. you hadn’t ever even touched upon a subject like that with him before. and now he had heard it from you talking to your girlfriends? oh, you just felt like the worst girlfriend in the world right now. 

“fuck. i didn’t mean to—” 

“no, baby,” he opened the car door for you to slip into the passenger seat. you stepped in, gripping his forearm to sit down. 

when he climbed in himself and turned over the engine, you shifted to face him. before you could even open your mouth to speak, he cut you off. 

“i want kids, too, you know. with you.” 

“oh.” a weight lifted from your shoulders in that moment, and then you felt utterly stupid for thinking that he would’ve reacted badly. this is your lando you’re talking to. a man you can share anything with. “you do?” 

he looked flabbergasted. “you’re joking, right?”

you shot your hands up in defense. “i don’t know! children aren’t exactly…temporary. i just— i didn’t know if you thought of me—”

“you’re permanent, love.” his hand wrapped around your thigh as he pulled out of the driver’s lot, whipping past the fans that were keen on snapping a picture of him. 

though you’ve known that, deep down, it still hit you like the first time he told you that he loved you. a jaw-dropping epiphany that had been right in front of you the whole time. you’d been short-sighted, enjoying every moment that you had with him, and had become unknowing about the future you’ve been perpetuating with him.

you covered his hand with your own, playing with the bracelets around his wrist. the charm bracelet ‘daddy’ dangled between your fingers, rolling the beads over and over again. 

“you’d make a good daddy, wouldn’t you?” you said the words under your breath, but even he could hear them like you’d shouted them in his face. he tightened his grip around your thigh.

“don’t say things like that,” he shook his head, eyes locked on the road ahead. 

the air became heavy between you two. when wasn’t it? not only did passion run through your veins, but heinous desire breathed life to your souls. 

“why?” you stroked the top of his hand with your nails. “you heard what i said to the girls.” his head lolled against the back rest. “what’s different now?” 

you felt the car accelerate. it vibrated the cushion you were nestled atop of, sending shockwaves through your cunt.

“driving me fucking nuts, darling.” 

you knew you were. it was the secret to your relationship— the two of you understanding what made you tick. seethe with lust until there was no other option for you to climb him like a tree.

it didn’t take long before he reached the hotel, pulling up to the front. you were getting your things to get up, but he was lost on his phone, pretending to be busy. “coming?” you asked.

“pfft—” you could see him roll his eyes through the rearview mirror. “i wish. give me a second.” you couldn’t help but huff to yourself under your breath, stepping out of the car with your heels clinking to the ground.

 with your purse over your shoulder you stepped up onto the curb, but was distracted by a small voice echoing over your shoulder. 

down the sidewalk was a mother and a stroller. you smirked lowly, taking only the few steps it’d take to reach the mother and child. 

“oh my gosh,” you squealed. the mother was taken back, but by your demeanor and eyes on her baby, she returned a smile. by her pink bonnet and bunny swath, you knew she was the cutest thing you’d ever laid eyes on. “she is just the cutest thing!” 

“thank you,” the woman said.

“she looks just like her mama,” you heard lando’s car door open, most definitely within earshot. “don’t you, sweet thing? yes you do!” you cooed at the baby, who erupted in a fit of louder giggles and mumbles. 

the mother was flushed, but happy. “you’re too kind. you’re good with children? do you have any of your own?” 

jackpot..!!

you clutched your purse as you stood up straight. you played into your theatrics, “oh gosh, i wish! my husband and i have been trying for ages, but he’s just so busy with work…” 

the woman tsked with disappointment for you. “you’d make a beautiful mother,” 

“you think so?” 

she nodded her affirmation. 

“that’s so sweet of you.” you were really milking this scene, especially that you knew lando was listening. 

“is that your husband there?” she pointed to over your shoulder. and there he was, your husband, watching the two of you from behind the ajar car door. 

“mmm, yes, it is.” you offered a cordial wave to him. he stuck two fingers up for a lazy wave, waiting for you to return to him. “i should go. it was a pleasure, ma’am. your baby is adorable.”

she nodded a thanks, and you took your sweet time walking back to the car. you could hear lando tapping the windshield incessantly. before his head dipped down back into the car he called, “get back in.” 

you…admit, you were confused. brows furrowed, you opened the passenger side door and bent down, “why—?”

“get in the car,” your name was a rumble in his chest. you still didn’t know what he was doing nor going, and your stubborn self wouldn’t settle for a verbal answer.

you took too long for him. gripping your arm, he pulled you into the passenger seat, and you landed on your ass with a ‘thump’. 

he fired up the engine again and pulled out of the traffic circle of the hotel. he radiated with heat— you could feel it from where you sat. “where are we going?” 

he didn’t answer you. 

you crossed your arms and legs, looking out the window. the area was unknown to you, but lando always seemed like he knew where he was going. 

it took only a minute for him to pull into an empty level of a parking garage, dimly lit with only one overhead light at the entrance of the ramp. he put the car in park. 

“what are we—”

you couldn’t finish your sentence until you were on his lap, hands gripping your waist so tightly that you had to gasp for air. 

“husband?” 

oh

oh…!

well, this was a change you welcomed with open arms. 

he lowered the seat back until you were straddled atop of him, fingers aimlessly toiling with the zipper of his jeans. 

“don’t know what you’re—”

he snapped upward, gripping your chin between his forefinger and thumb. “baby,” he breathed, and you shivered. “what do you want?”

your hips naturally moved back and forth against his own, dress hiked well above your stomach. his hand snaked between your legs, feeling the wet patch in your underwear. he hummed when you didn’t reply, flicking his finger upward to graze your clit. 

you mewled. 

“what was that?”

your hand twisted around the hem of his shirt. you were already breathless, clenching around nothing except the sound of his words. 

“tell me,” he muttered, staring up at your disheveled state. he made quick work of sliding your panties to the side, massaging the folds of your cunt between his fingers. you continued your writhing against him. 

“want you,” was what you managed to breathe out, hips rutting against his palm. he tsked, but allowed you this moment. a moment for him to bask in the way that you move your hips, writhe against his clothed cock that was egregiously hardening by the second and each amount of pressure you applied. 

he slid his fingers in and out of you with ultra maneuvering, in and out, all around. he was a mastermind when it came to feeling you up, exploring you both on the outside, and the in. you were in heaven, ultimately, when he curled his fingers so deeply upon thrusting them. your cunt tightened so viciously around him that he groaned, his head falling back and his hardened cock thrusting upward. to no avail, his dick was strained against the cloth of his pants.

“fuck,” he cussed, curling his fingers over and over again. your body began to shiver, and only began to fall from grace when his thumb traced against your clit. stimulation grew hotter and hotter, until you let out a piercing moan from the depths of your throat. he angled his fingers differently, making you squirm.

“lando!” you breathed, feeling your climax creeping up on you faster than you could even blink. your core tightened, a coil of veracious flames churning around each other manifesting a slew of energy that released sparks from your nerves. your folds were inflamed, puffy, beating hot that you couldn’t think straight. lando was touching you with his other hand anywhere that he could reach. he palmed your breasts through your dress, twisted a nipple to earn a delicious squeal. 

“come on, sweet thing,” he encouraged you with that stupid lopsided smile of his, you were looking down on him, sweat beading at his forehead, pupils blown dark and wide. his hand that was groping your breast moved upward, threading around the column of your throat. “show daddy what you’re made of.” 

his hand tightened, and you felt the coil snap. he continued to pump his fingers in and out, maneuvering so perfectly, hitting that exact spot with precision. 

he knew you came when your eyes rolled back into your head, legs quivering around his waist. god, you’re a sexy thing. 

his hand loosened from around your neck, dropping to your chest, fiddling with the van cleef necklace he had gifted you. it reeked of possession, marking you as his with the “l.n.” initials engraved on the back of the golden surface.

the moment of bliss passed before he was pulling the zipped down from your dress and throwing it from over your head. your panties were next, though the fabric was thin as is. there you were, bare and glistening, before your so-called ‘husband’ as you had worded it. he wouldn’t forget it, a spark igniting within him that was lit by the phrase leaving your tongue. he didn’t think that it would affect him so much—

but it did. 

he made quick work of his own pants, shoving them down to his knees beneath you, breathless and needy. 

you gripped the hem of his shirt. he lifted his arms to hasten the process, and the shirt went to the back seat. with his skin exposed, you couldn’t help but run your hands along his tan, toned chest. it made you dripping wet, though he was barely touching you now. 

with your skin atop of his, carnage was sure to ensue. he took a drag of his fingers against your wet cunt and brought it to his lips. he sucked on them, releasing with a ‘pop.’ your mouth hung open in anticipation for what he was going to do next. he always kept you on your toes. 

but this…this is not what you expected. 

he took a ring from his index finger, plated in silver, and slid it onto your ring finger on your left hand. the wedding finger. 

it stuck to your sweaty palm, sure enough to not slip off. 

“let’s make it official then, pretty girl.” 

you sat upon him astonished, looking down at the adornment that he had given to you. it dazzled on your finger. 

“if you’re my wife, what does that make me?”

the words trembled from your lips, thighs tightening around his own. you could feel his dick sprung to life against your backside. “my husband.” 

“good, baby, you learn fast.” 

you gulped, finally taking a look at him from his propped upright position. he was downright smitten with you, guzzling everything about you inside of him. you were his, so much fucking so, that he was going to ruin you. and he didn’t even feel bad for wanting it. 

“my husband…” you repeated, lowering your face down to meet his own. he smelled so good—a mix of sweat and his cologne. 

his hand tangled into your hair, creating a makeshift ponytail to meet your eye level. 

“makes me fucking crazy when y’say it…” 

you knew that was the truth. you’d known the minute you sat down in the car. his demeanor had changed, shifted to something darker that you didn’t quite understand. it was insane enough as is that you’d discovered so many things about him within a short period of time. 

“husband, daddy…what’s the difference?” you cooed, kissing up and down his neck. he groaned, landing a smack on your ass that had you giggling. 

“‘ll just make you a mommy if you keep throwin’ that word ‘round.” 

you grinned ear to ear. against his cheek, you took a deep breath in, before letting go. 

“daddy.” 

if you’ve ever made a good decision in your life, this has to be the best. a switch flipped. gears started to turn in his head. the spark plug burst into flames. 

you were his undoer,

the key to his shackled restraint,

the sun to his universe.

it was always you. you’d been right in front of him for the past two years. two years to get to this point. two years for the woman he loved most in this world to be sucking his neck whispering ‘daddy’ into his ear. 

lando sat upright in the seat. with a hand at the back of your head, he forced eye contact with you. this was different. this look. you could feel it in your heart, your folds, as they began to beat synchronously. life with him was euphoria, and sex had been the serendipitous release for both of you. 

but seeking the future together?

heaven incarnate.

despite being locked inside such a tight space, lando managed to swap your position with a suave move. you were on your back, shocked by his carnal rampage, as he hooked your legs upward. your toes scathed the ceiling of the car, pressed deep into the metal chassis. 

“kiss me,” you demanded with the breath that you could take. he didn’t waste a second, leaning down to your lips and capturing you with the most breathtaking press that he could muster. his tongue and your own fought for dominance over one another; you lost, quickly, unable to match his revered pace. 

he wanted to eat you from top to bottom. devour your insides, carry you with him every day of his life. you would be his, one way or another, and he didn’t care how it was. 

lucky enough, you were more than willing to be his bride, his lover, his person. 

because he was yours. 

then he was inside of you. braving the treachery of your tight walls, he hissed when the tip of his cock slipped through your folds. you’d been dripping on the leather seat. 

“fuck, baby…” his head fell to the crevice of your neck and collarbone. 

“oh my goddd…” the moan you both let out was terribly lewd, grotesque, even, with how he didn’t start a pace. you both savored this sweet moment of lust, passion, and a figurative toast to a lifelong commitment to fucking one another. 

with each thrust he took, he aimed to make a statement. deeper and deeper he penetrated you, his cock crafted of divine measure with how he quartered your g-spot. 

you could never stay still beneath him. it had him on edge the way you squirmed. dare say it was one of the most favorite things about you, though the list would be never-ending. you shiver from pleasure, leaning into him as your cunt squelches beneath you. 

echoes of moans bounce off the interior of the car, whilst a smile of greed and possession conceives on his own cheeks. the angle he has you at is deeper than any that you’ve had before— it left no room for noncommittal nature, no room for you to complain about wanting him closer, more, more, more. 

“y’feel me here?” his hand rest on your lower belly, your womb, as he applied pressure. you do feel him there. the indent of his cock is poignant, bulging out from the skin. 

“mhm…!” you whine, trying to keep your mouth shut from the onslaught of moans pouring out. 

his attention turned to your tits as he swallowed a nipple whole with his tongue, sucking feverishly at the sensitive bud. it had you weak, dribbling to puddy. 

he could only think about how you’d look pregnant. swollen tits, round belly, glowing with his child. 

“this what you wanted?” he grunted, his pace quickening. you were too dumb to speak, a droplet of drool leaking from your mouth. “hm? fuck you—fuck, fill you up?” 

your back arched at the sentence, not knowing that his words could have such an arousing effect on you. this arousal was different. the way you clench around him was different. your actions spoke a lot louder than your words. 

“yeah? i can feel you, darling.” sounds of skin slapping and your hoarse voice could only be heard. he fucked you so good, treated you even better. fuck it, you’d rather be pregnant than anything else. 

“please, please…” you didn’t know what you were pleading for, in truth— he was already fucking you like he’d been in a rut. 

“yeah? that what you want? want a baby?” 

your head nodded furiously up and down, tears of pleasure streaming down your cheeks. lando bent down to kiss them away, followed by a capturing of your lips. he swallowed your breaths, your moans. he trailed kisses down the column of your throat; your collarbones, breasts, nipples, nothing went untouched by his mouth. 

“god…these…” he muttered against your tits, voice sending shockwaves through your body. “imagine how big they’d be.” he managed to chuckle to himself. “swollen and beautiful,” he kissed the top of your abdomen. 

“lando…”

his head shot up from his daze. 

“the time is right. please, please—” your words seemed to hit him like a truck. the foreplay had turned reality, and he was more than ready to lurch into fate. 

“what, pretty girl?”

your face flushed, biting your lip. “give me a baby, need it—lan, need it so bad.” your hand found the back of his neck, tugging on the strands of his hair. 

he tsked, his pace evening out to a level throttle. your lips formed a sweet pout, and he stroked your chin with his index finger. “give you?” he mocked. “oh, don’t think that’s how we ask, do we?”

“lan…please, please, can i have your baby? need it so bad lando, need it…” you swallowed your breath. “daddy…wanna make you a daddy…please.” 

it was more than enough for him. “atta girl.” he grunted, deepening his lackluster thrusts into thrilling rides on his cock. “y’learn fast…kids ‘r gonna be so smart.” 

“yes, yes! so good, lan.” you heaved, the heat in your cunt finding a boiling point, and he felt it by how tight you became around him. 

“go on, baby, take it. be a good girl and take it all.” you’d do anything to hear your lando call you a good girl. it had been more than enough to send you over the edge into a spiraling orgasm that had slick seeping around his cock. your vision whitened, and you could only see the shadow of your ‘husband’ through the light. 

with sloppy thrusts, lando came with ease. he didn’t pull out urgently, letting his cum soak inside of you. he peppered kisses along your ankles, your calves, and let them fall to the seat. 

out of breath, your chests rose and fell at a rapid pace. lando’s forehead connected with your own, and through the haze of post-sex, he smiled at you. 

you smiled back. the two of you broke into a laugh. 

“fuckin’ knew that was gonna happen today.” he commented lazily into your chest. a hand of yours threaded through his brown curls. 

“your mastermind plan to babytrap me.” 

he raised a brow. “did you plan on leaving?”

you gave him a knowing look. “not in the slightest.” 

he became embarrassed and sheepish as he hid his face into your ribs. “no chance of it, now.” 

you chuckled, flexing your fingers to see the ring still there. “i want a real proposal, by the way.” 

his head shot up. “what? this wasn’t good enough?”

you palmed his face with one hand, and tugged the back of his curled head with the other. “bastard.” 

it only took you two ten minutes to get your clothes back on from such a leisurely excursion from the empty parking garage. covered in his spit, sweat, and cum, you didn’t feel….dirty. 

when he finally pulled up to the valet and opened the door for you, you stepped out as graciously as possible. though your hair was a tangled mess— you tried your best. lucky enough it was late enough to where minimal paparazzi were gathered. thank god. 

you shifted on your feet, shimmying the dress down, but lando came to your rescue. he pulled the dress down where it was crumpled at the back, caught between the hem of your soaked underwear. 

“that was a rental, wasn’t it?” you pointed out, looking over your shoulder.

“they should auction it.” 

you spun around and laughed in his face, gagged by the ego he has. “you have a big head.” 

“need all that room for you.” 

“cheesy.” 

lando’s eyes lit up— though exhausted from the day and your antics, the sun still rose for him— “almost forgot—” he reached into his pocket whilst you waited patiently. 

he pulled out a bracelet.

a friendship bracelet. 

“thought it suited you.” he put it around your wrist, and you analyzed it clearly. in white, capitalized letters it read:

“MOMMY”

“you really had this thing planned.” you were impressed. 

he shifted on his heels, throwing his hands up as if saying ‘what can i say?’ “p thinks you’re pregnant now.” 

you gasped. “lando!” 

“i mean…hopefully.” he winked as you fiddled with the jewelry, still not bothering to take off the ring from your finger. 

“well…” you brought a finger to your lips, thinking, “we have to be certain, don’t we?” 

lando was catching your drift as you walked backwards towards the entrance of the hotel, luring him in with your charisma. “perhaps…”

“so…we need to try again.” he wasn’t going to argue with that. “and again.” or that. “and again, for good measure.” 

“you’re gonna kill me, baby.” he whined, chasing you up the steps. you squealed, running forward. inside the elevator you two went, clicking the floor for your room. 

after further inspection, lando’s brows furrowed after he glanced over you. “what?” 

he covered his mouth to shield his devious smile. 

“what, lando?” 

he coughed to hide his amusement, but it was a very bad act. “you’re…”

“what?” 

“you’re dripping.”

you looked down at your thighs and saw the glistening reflection of his cum seeping out of you. fuck. maybe the first time was the charm, but you hoped it wasn’t. 

you really hoped it wasn’t. 

tags ; @landoslutmeout@basicallyric@mybluesoul1@toriiez@customsbyjcg-blog@sofs16@strengthandstay@mybluesoul1@f1fantasys@cmleitora @idgasb @amalialeclerc @laneyspaulding19 @staurdvst @oreosareara @sideboobrry11 @mortallyblueninja @fionamiller123 @2pagenumb @marvelfangirl04 @brune77e @allabouthappiness @tellybearryyyy @ringdingdingdingx @tillyt04 @danywonderland @rosebud224 @simpfortoomanymen @nataliambc @forcesensitivesoulmate @sweate-r-weathe-r @norlestappen @madszoca @milkandcookhot @fionamiller123 @16f1lc @jwiltsz @plotpal @inevesgf @theonottsbxtch

[pellucid-constellations]

Trial and Error (6)

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: Based on the request: "Azriel with single mom reader? I feel like being a single mom in ACOTAR would be tricky as hell… reader comes from autumn court and flees to night court because she got pregnant out of marriage? 😯 the shame"

Word count: 2.4k

Warnings: Angst, brief mention of an abortion

a/n: guess what everyone here’s another chapter ahhh!!! Love you 🫶

Read part one | part two | part three | part four | part five (part five bonus) |

Main Masterlist ♡

~~

Your breath left you, lungs emptying of every comfort until they felt tight and constrained. You might have made a sound—might have gaped as Azriel’s eyes darted across every square inch of your face to gauge a reaction. 

Mate. 

Had he said—

“What?” you finally choked out. 

Azriel shook his head with a pained furrow of his brow. “I didn’t want to tell you like this.” His hands steadied as they cradled your cheeks—stability in a time of utter confusion. “But I had to, y/n. You… I needed you to understand why I care so much. Why I want you to let me care. Why you…” 

His words trailed off. 

Something compelled you to reach up and wrap your fingers around his wrists. You stared into his eyes with nothing to offer him but the uncertainty and poorly disguised hope edging considerably closer to the surface. 

“Why I what, Azriel?” 

Azriel licked his lips before he spoke, mouth dry at the prospect of the conversation. “Why you can tell me. Everything. You can trust me with everything there is to know about you and Melanie. I wouldn’t—I would protect the both of you. Over anything.” 

You felt a piece of you deflate. Azriel’s fingers slightly spasmed against your skin as your shoulders slumped. 

“You can’t promise me that, Azriel,” you sullenly replied. “You work for the High Lord. You can’t promise me you would keep things from him for my benefit. I can’t trust that—” 

“Y/n, you are my mate,” Azriel emphasized, eyes wide and pleading. “I know you can’t feel it yet within you but it has been carved into my chest from the moment we locked eyes. The way the bond pulls each time I see you—the way it screams at me to keep you safe. I can’t…” 

His words broke off as he spoke them—cracked and fractured and desperate. 

Azriel cleared his throat and started over. 

“There are two things you should know. First, the High Lord and Lady—Rhysand and Feyre—they would never do anything to put you in danger.” You opened your mouth to argue, but Azriel gently spoke over the rebuttal. “They would never. They do not even know you but you are my mate. As an extension, you are their family. Whatever it is you are running from, they would go to lengths to run with you.” 

“You can’t promise—” 

“I can. And I am. Because the second thing you should know is that I have waited for my mate for centuries. I have dreamed of you and wanted you and I don’t know if that scares you but I hope it can be some consolation.” 

The kitchen lulled into a silence punctuated by your heaving breaths, the unsteady sound countering Azriel’s flickering wings as he stood before you. You had no words for him, nothing to rectify the worried way he captured your gaze with his own. 

Your instinct fought against everything he said. 

To put all of your trust into Azriel—all of it. To make him an integral part of Melanie’s life, of yours. 

Could you? Was being his mate enough? You didn’t feel the pull yet, the indescribable ache that caused the desperation on Azriel’s face. 

“—and,” Azriel’s voice was low but startling as his eyes shifted to land on the wall behind your head. “It’s not just the bond. It’s you. I care about you, y/n. I care about Mel. I can’t go back to acting so casual about that. I want to be all in with two of you. My life has… it’s changed. It’s different now, because of you.” 

He found your eyes again.

Something shifted in your chest, but it didn’t snap. 

You wanted him to be all in, but something still needed to be aligned. 

You had heard stories about mates in the past—about mates that had children before the bond had made itself known. The stories did not end well and they certainly did not match the pleading way Azriel held you or the hopeful pool of hazel that his eyes had dipped into. 

“What about Melanie?” you whispered, squeezing his wrist with your fingers because although he had included her in all of his pinings, you needed to hear him say it. 

Azriel adjusted his stance and blinked at you as if you were speaking another language. “What about Melanie, angel?” 

His soft-spoken endearment was like a punch to the gut. “W-Would you love her the same? Even though she isn’t yours? I’ve heard what can happen with—” 

“I don’t care about that—I’ve never cared. I can’t imagine looking at her and not loving her, y/n. She is so much of you.” 

A loaded breath left you as you leaned forward and rested your forehead on Azriel’s collar. You were still sick, still exhausted, and this overwhelming display of affection and devotion was filling you more than you thought you could handle. You released your hold on his wrists to bunch your fists into the front of his shirt. Azriel acted instantly, one hand coming to the back of your head while the other rested along your back. 

“I want to trust you,” you promised. “I do. It just might take time. I can’t—I don’t think I can tell you yet. I don’t know why, I just—” 

“I know, y/n. You don’t have to tell me. Just… just let me in. Let me be here.” 

~~

The rest of the day moved slowly. 

Azriel stayed. 

When Melanie woke up from her nap, a walk was introduced, Azriel proclaiming that the group had spent entirely too much time inside and fresh air was needed to fight the remaining sickness. That suggestion was met with a raised brow from Melanie who argued that sleep was supposed to be what made us better, Mr. Azriel. Why do you keep changing it?

You had watched the interaction with new eyes; the way she squinted up at him with a skeptical gaze and the way he stared down at her with a smile so wide it looked as if it hurt. Did he smile that broadly all the time? You hardly saw him in any public context, so it was difficult to know. 

You doubted he did. 

He smiled at you the same way when you teased him for Melanie’s benefit. 

The walk was soothing and beautiful and Azriel had wrapped two scarves around Melanie’s neck before he let her get out the door. She had huffed and pointed at his own neck, frustrated that he wasn’t wearing a scarf, but his shadows answered for him as they whisked around Melanie’s eyes and turned her around. 

As she giggled, Azriel shrugged a jacket over your shoulders. 

“It’s not that cold, you know,” you commented later as footsteps echoed along cobblestone. “I don’t know if she needed both scarves.” 

“Can’t be too careful. Wouldn’t want her to get more sick.” 

“We aren’t that kind of sick, Az.” 

“I know.” He tore his gaze from Melanie and directed it towards you. “But I can’t do anything about Autumn fever. I can, however, make sure the two of you don’t catch a cold.” 

You pressed your lips inwards and breathed through the fluttering in your chest as he looked upon you. His gaze was unabashedly admiring and you couldn’t remember if he’d looked at you like that before he’d told you you were mates, or if he had been holding himself back before. 

“I am from the Autumn Court,” you thought to say, if only to quell some of the strange feeling in your chest. “Although, you already knew that. Your healer kind of gave it away.” 

“You don’t have to—” 

“I want to,” you interrupted. You looked out towards Melanie as you skirted along the Sidra, your daughter kneeling by the shore to look in at the fish. “Maybe not all of it at once. But for now, I’m from the Autumn Court. I came to Velaris when I found out I was pregnant.” 

You shoved your hands into the pocket of the jacket Azriel had placed on your shoulders. You realized it wasn’t yours when your knuckles swam in the space. And the scent of night-kissed air delicately wafted up.

Azriel said nothing as you collected your thoughts. He simply watched Melanie giggle and dip her fingers in the water. 

“Um, I came under duress, obviously. The circumstances of my pregnancy weren’t exactly optimal and there were several people that would have been… more than upset that I was pregnant.” 

“What does that mean—upset?” 

“Several things. They could have taken Melanie from me, made me end the pregnancy when I didn’t want to, sent me into hiding for shame. I didn’t stick around to find out which horror-fueled thought would come to fruition.” 

“Is that who you’re running from?” 

You tilted your head to the side as a light breeze swept past your skin. Azriel was already looking at you with an intensity that felt out of place compared to the joyful laughs that flowed from the child by the water. But that was good, you reminded yourself, you were keeping her away from all of these harsh realities for as long as possible. 

“Yes.”

“Can I ask—”

“No.” You were quick to cut him off. Your tone wasn’t mean or harsh; it was exhausted. “You can't ask who or why—not yet. I haven’t actually said any of those names aloud since I left. That part might… take me a while.” 

“That’s okay,” Azriel softly reassured. He took a half step towards you, hesitated, but then fought against that and wrapped an arm around your shoulders, tugging you into his chest. “I just need to know what I’m up against. If you think they know where you are or if they’re still looking for you.” 

Melanie had begun throwing rocks into the Sidra, the sound of the stones plopping into the water mingling with silence and birds chirping. 

“I don’t think they know where I am,” you mumbled into his chest. It was so easy to stay there. “But I think they’re still looking. I don’t think they’ll stop.” 

You felt Azriel’s lips press against the crown of your head. His chin found a home there as you both shifted to watch Melanie. 

“Okay. Okay, that’s fine.” 

“Is it? You didn’t exactly sign up for this.” 

“I signed up for you. Whatever that entails.” 

A calm silence washed over the scene by the Sidra. Azriel brought his other arm around to hold you closer to his chest and you let him, seamlessly sinking into his hold. Melanie was none the wiser to the conversations behind her as she began dropping sticks and leaves into the water. 

Azriel kissed your hair once more. 

“It could be safer—“ Azriel began, words laced with reproach. “—if some of the Inner Circle were involved.” 

You wrenched yourself back as quickly as the words left his mouth. “No,” you shook your head vigorously. It made an ache bloom at the base of your neck. “No, no court involvement. You can’t tell them anything. You can’t, Azriel. I know you said it was safe but you don’t understand. This can’t have anything to do with High Lords or court politics or, or—” 

“Okay, okay—hey, I’m sorry. Come here.” 

The panic had taken hold of your bearings and inched close to your heart. You reached up to place a hand against the pressure there as Azriel tugged you back against his body and glanced toward Melanie to ensure she hadn’t picked up on your stress. 

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking,” he comforted, running his hand down your hair. “Nothing with the court, okay? I won’t tell any of them.” 

“Do you promise?” you all but whimpered. A tinge of embarrassment seeped under your skin at your actualized panic, but the fear took precedence and Azriel showed no repugnance at your reaction. 

For a brief, fleeting moment, you considered that a promise didn’t really mean anything at all—not before. 

But, from Azriel, it felt like something. 

“I promise.” 

A small voice then sounded, facilitating the natural end to the sharing you had offered. “All of the fishies are gone.” 

Azriel didn’t even attempt to move you away from his chest as he spoke, his words creating vibrations along your body. “That’s because you keep throwing things at them, Mel.” 

“I wasn’t throwing things at them. I was trying to offer those things to them.” 

You turned to speak to your daughter, Azriel’s arms unmoving around you. “Why were you offering things to the fish?” 

“Just in case they’re water gods. Ms. Fern tolds us about them in school. If you make them offerings then they protect you.” 

Your laugh was echoed by Azriel. The two of you shared a smile before you slowly unraveled yourself from him and beckoned your daughter forward. “Well, I’m sure they were very grateful for your offering. It was probably just their bedtime. Just like it’s almost yours.” 

Melanie made a face but didn’t argue, instead taking steps past you to stand at Azriel’s feet. “Mr. Azriel, is it my turn to cuddle? I don’t want to walk all the way home.” 

You watched Azriel’s mouth twist into a small smile that was obviously in place of a much larger one. He looked over Melanie’s head to send you a wordless question that you were quick to nod in response to. 

As if you would tell him no. 

Azriel reached down to haul your daughter up, settling her against his hip as if he’d done so a hundred times. Melanie rested her head on his chest almost as quickly as he’d grabbed for her, fiddling with a stick she still held in her grasp. You made to walk alongside them and calm your pattering heart, but certain people had other plans. 

“You too, mommy,” Melanie called, peaking the side of her face out from Azriel’s chest. 

“Me too?” 

“Uh huh. You come too. Mr. Azriel has two arms. And I can hold your hand.”

You sent a knowing glance up to Azriel, but he forwent the snickering and already had his arm open by the time you looked. “In,” he prompted with raised brows. “And you have a hand to hold.”  

[sturncrazy]

New Camera 🔥

Matt Sturniolo x y/n (fem)

warnings: SMUUUUUTTT NSFW 18+ (umm lots. use of camera/recording, dom matt, degrading, slapping, language, daddy kink, slight choking, unprotected, creampie, j very rough)

authors note: so this won the vote for which y’all wanted first! ask and u shall receive! this one is FILTHY AND KINKY so if that’s not ur vibe, uve been warned…also side note, i feel like this goes without saying but, i write mostly unprotected… guys pls don’t actually do that. wrap it before u tap it🫶 ok luv u!! enjoy!!

summary: your boyfriend matt gets a new camera before going on tour and decides to experiment with it on you…

word count: 2,270 w

~you look good on camera baby let’s go make a film~

—————————————————————————

your phone buzzed on your desk.

“be over in 10 babe ❤️” read a message from matt. you went back to fixing your makeup in the mirror, wanting to look your best for your boyfriends last night home. Matt was about to leave to go on tour tomorrow and it would be a month and a half before you got to see him again. even though you were excited for him, you wanted to make sure it was extra hard for him to leave you. after swiping on some lip gloss, you rummaged through your closet and landed on a thin white tank and flannel shorts. comfy, but still cute and showed just the right amount of skin to hopefully get his attention. your doorbell rang and you ran to answer it.

“hi, beautiful” matt said, pulling you in for a kiss.

“hi” you said smiling at him, the chill from outside hitting your mostly bare skin. he closed the door and walked in. his eyes gave you a once over as he took off his coat.

“you look hot” he smirked

“oh yeah?” you replied coyly, turning to head back down the hall.

“yeah. some shorts” he chuckled out, blatantly checking out your ass.

“what these?” you teased, bending over slightly

“don’t start with me, y/n” matt came up behind you and slapped your ass, playfully but hard. the two of you walked to your room and you flopped on your bed, reaching for the remote to your tv. matt followed and unzipped his backpack, rummaging through it and pulling out a box.

“whatcha got there?”

“bought a new vlog camera for tour!” he answered, excitedly

“wanna see?” he sat down next to you, showing off the new device.

“oooo fancy” you knew nothing about cameras, but pretended to be impressed since matt was so enthusiastic. his fingers whizzed around the buttons.

“it’s got awesome quality and it’s so easy to use” he continued, the machine chirped as he hit the red button and pointed it at your face.

“matttt” you whined, covering your face with your hands.

“what are you being camera shy?” he snickered, standing above you continuing to point the lens at you.

“cmon show me that gorgeous face of yours baby” you huffed, dramatically and lowered your hands looking up at him.

“that’s my pretty girl” he cooed, making a smile toy at the corners of your mouth. you could never say no to him. his eyes flicked over you behind the camera and you tried to read what he was thinking. he licked his lips and backed up, silently, getting a wider view of you in frame. you stayed put on the bed.

“take your top off” he stated, flatly.

“matt-what—?” you nervously laughed out

“did i say it was a question? take your top off” something about the harshness of his tone was so out of character it made your heart race. you reached for the hem of your tank and began to lift it.

“damn, baby” matt growled out, lowering the camera to capture your exposed tits. you breathed heavily, unable to bring yourself to move from your perched position on the edge of your bed. your eyes followed as his hands lowered the camera even further to where you had your hands in your lap.

“now your shorts”

“but—matt—im not wearing any underwear” you stuttered.

“and?”

“well you’re filming i mean i—“

“if you’re gonna be a little slut and not wear your panties then i get to treat you like a little slut. strip.” he interrupted, gruffly. you couldn’t help but notice how insanely hot he sounded being so demanding, and hoped he wouldn’t be able to see your already obvious wetness. you reached for your waistband, standing, never taking your eyes off him as you began to lower your shorts to the floor. you stepped out of them and kicked them aside. nervousness spread goosebumps across your skin as you became aware of how completely exposed you were to matt and his camera. this was unlike anything you’d ever done before.

“good girl” matt praised, dryly.

“you wanna give me a better view of that pretty little ass of yours and bend over the bed for me?” you felt as vulnerable to matt’s commands as the machine in his hands. you slowly turned half way and rested your hands on your bed, lifting your ass into better view for him.

“fuck” he exhaled. you could feel him move closer behind you. he brought a hand sharply down against your flesh. you whimpered.

“so sexy” he growled.

“got me so hard just looking at you baby” you turned your head back to look at him. he laughed, sinisterly.

“what? you wanna see what you’re doing to me, slut? huh?”

you nodded, dumbly. he snickered again.

“course you do. get on your knees for me.” he demanded. you followed every order like a well trained dog. you settled down by his feet and looked back up at him, as he readjusted the lens again.

“mmmm you look so perfect from this angle, babygirl” he praised stroking your face gently, before slapping his hand against your cheek just enough to sting a bit. your jaw dropped slightly in surprise, which matt took as an opportunity to slid his thumb into your mouth. you sucked at his digit and he groaned, watching you before sliding it back out of your mouth creating a popping sound.

“take off my pants” he commanded. you eagerly fumbled with his belt and zipper, hooking your fingers around the waste and and pulling slowly. his already rock hard dick sprung out and slapped his t shirt. your mouth almost watered in desperation at the sight of his veiny, practically throbbing, member.

“open your mouth, baby” he exhaled. you looked up into the camera, doe eyed and parted your lips with your tongue out slightly. he pumped himself with his free hand, the tip of his dick just grazing your lips and tongue and then began to slowly insert himself into your warm wet mouth. he ran his hand down your head, petting your hair, soothingly, as you took him all the way down the back of your throat. fighting the urge to gag at his size.

“such a good girl” matt groaned. his pets reached the base of your skull, then latched harshly into your hair. his grip was tight, as he began to thrust into your mouth. you felt tears form at the corner of your eyes as he forcefully fucked your throat. matt let his grasp on your hair go and slid himself out of your mouth. he grabbed your jaw and forced you to turn your messy face to him, getting a clear shot of the streaks of tears on your cheeks and spit running down your chin.

“get on your hands and knees. i need to feel that pretty little pussy of yours” he huffed, patting your face again. you scrambled to the bed, desperate to feel him fill you up. you’d never felt so much heat screaming from between your legs in your life. you arched your back, letting matt have perfect access to your dripping folds. matt dragged a finger down them, teasing you and eliciting a loud whine from your lips.

“soaking for me already huh, slut?” he mocked. all you could do in response was whimper.

“so pathetic for me” he taunted, pressing two fingers against your entrance.

“matt—please—“ you breathed out in agony

“camera can’t hear you, baby. be a good little slut and beg louder for me.”

“Matt—fuck—-please—i need your dick now—“ you cried out, the need for contact almost eating away at your brain. you screamed as matt rammed into you, entirely, and without warning. the unprepared sensation of stretch caused a pleasurable pain to radiant through you. he groaned, finally feeling your wet pussy around his torturously hard dick. he began to relentlessly pound into you from behind, filling the room with deafening slapping sounds intermixed with your screams and his grunts.

“MATT—“ you cried out, overwhelmed by his intensity, collapsing your face into the pillows beneath you.

“what? ” he wrapped his free hand around a fistful of your hair and yanked your head back up.

“don’t act like you can’t handle my cock now, slut.” he snarled, not letting up on his unwavering rhythm in and out of your core. he slapped your ass again.

“understand?”

“yes matt” you wheezed. he slapped your ass again.

“yes, who?”

“fuckk—yes, daddy” you sobbed out

“good girl” his thrusts hit your g spot each time, making your legs shake and stars form against your tightly squeezed eyelids.

“you wanna show me how much you love my cock, princess?”

“yes, daddy” you hardly could think straight

“bounce that perfect ass on my cock, baby” he said, slowing his thrusts. you obeyed and began to rock your hips back and forth, fucking yourself on his dick.

“good girl. doing such a good job” he sang out, one hand gripping your flesh while the other captured your movement on film. you whimpered again, your hips stuttering.

“you tired, princess?” you nodded and let out another pathetic sound.

“need daddy to take over again?”

“yes—oh fuck—please daddy-“ you managed to mumble out. Matt pulled out of you abruptly, causing you to whine at the loss. you couldn’t move anymore, but the last thing you wanted was for him to stop fucking you. he slapped your ass again

“turn over” he growled

“i wanna see your pretty face when i cum in your pussy” you felt like you could cum from his filthy requests alone. you’d barely even landed on you back before matt slammed back into your throbbing entrance. he struggled to keep his balance momentarily, too desperate to feel you around him again. he kept one hand supporting himself upright and the other still holding the camera, pointed at you as his picked back up his steady thrusts.

“so perfect—look ss-so good—with my cock stuffed inside your little pussy” he huffed out between thrusts

“OH—fuck—yes—your cock feels so good, daddy” you moaned out, helplessly. your eyes rolling back into your head. matt’s free hand wrapped around your throat, constricting your breathing perfectly.

“watch me while i fuck you, slut” he growled.

“yes, daddy” you wheezed out against his tight grip. he removed his hand and you gasped for air. within moments of his dick pounding perfectly back against your sweet spot, you felt your orgasm begin to crest.

“FUCK—IM—“ you panted.

“that’s it—good girl—cum all over daddy’s cock” he ordered. your walls clenched and throbbed around him uncontrollably, causing him to let out a string of curse words. you felt his dick begin to twitch deep inside you.

“ohh-hh-fuck—shit” he stuttered out, his thrusts becoming wilder and less expertise.

“mmm—close—“ he groaned, his jaw dropping slightly.

“mmmm fuck yeah cum inside me, daddy” you whined out, your high still settling.

“shit yeah baby? you want me to fill your little pussy?”

your brows knotted and your nodded your head desperately.

“fuck i’ll fill you up—so full of cum—baby you’ll look—-so perfect—spilling out of you” he huffed

“OH FUCK FUCK BABY IM GONNA CUM” he cried out as his whole body shook. he thrust deep into you one last time, halting as his cock spasmed against your walls. releasing a multitude of spurts of his hot white load. once matt seemed to regain his senses, he clicked the red button again—ending his taping. he pulled out of you slowly, making your legs shake. he glanced down at your trembling sensitive entrance leaking his release in pulses and bit his lip in a satisfied smirk, snapping one last photo of the mess he’d made of you.

“MATT!” you laughed out in embarrassment, shutting your legs and rolling onto your side.

“sorry…i had to. too hot not save” he said, smiling and flopping down next to you.

“are you okay? was that too much?” he asked, pushing your hair out of your face.

“no way. i loved that”

“you swear i wasn’t too rough with you?” he said with worry. you shook your head vigorously

“not at ALL! that was HOT” you replied through a smile. he fought a grin, biting his lip clearly extremely pleased at your enthusiasm.

“so can i ask what inspired the camera?” you questioned.

“well, now on tour i can reminisce what it’s like to fuck my crazy hot girlfriend” he smiled at the ceiling.

“hey!” you slapped his chest playfully “you know you can always facetime me and we cannnnn” you dragged your words out, looking off into the distance above his face in teasing suggestion.

“oh don’t you worry, we’ll have phone sex all the time. this is just for when you can’t call me and i need to…y’know” he glanced down at his crotch.

“jesus, how many times are you planning on jerking off” you teased

“twice a day. minimum.” he matter of factly stated, grinning again.

“MATTHEW!” you scoffed out in shock

“What? not my fault you’re so sexy” he laughed, leaning in to give you a peck on the lips.

“yeah yeah whatever. just NEVER show that to anyone”

“are you kidding me? you think i’d ever let anyone else get a look at you like that? nhhuhh nope.” he shook his head dramatically

“only i get to see how perfect you look getting your brains fucked out” he leaned in, kissing you playfully again. you giggled, feeling a slight blush.

“i love you, you freak” you said against his lips.

“i love you more, baby”

—————————————————————————

ok y’all were on to something with wanting this one cause WHY DO I LOVE IT?? rly hope everyone likes it ahhh 🫶🫶

also guys imagine matt accidentally posting the wrong video and posts ur tape instead of a car video?? HAHA

[simplygojo]

Gettin' A Full Service

a/n: Y'all I'm so sorry im nothin but a nasty dog bc no way this is 4.3k 💀. ANYWHO this smutty fic idea came to me when seeing the art used as the cover for this by @actuallyvalerie (original art is linked here), I just couldn't help myself from writing this...heh. Hope you enjoy!

Requests are open! Please read the Request Guidelines before submitting a request <33

Pairing: Mechanic!Toji Fushiguro x f!reader

Word Count: 4.3k (im a nasty dog y'all...)

Warnings: 18+ content, SMUT!, oral (f receiving), intercourse, choking, pet names, mndi

^^ art by @actuallyvalerie

The low rumble of engines filled the air as you stepped into the garage, the familiar scents of motor oil and gasoline swirling around you. Your heartbeat quickened the moment you caught sight of him—Toji Fushiguro. 

He was bent over the hood of his car, focused on something behind the propped-up hood.

The muscles in his broad back flexed as he worked, his white tank top clinging to his sweat-slicked skin. His strong arms glistened with a light sheen of sweat, smudged with streaks of oil that only added to the raw masculinity he exuded. 

A dark smear ran along his sharp jawline, the grease contrasting with his striking, rugged features. The late afternoon sun filters through the wide windows of Toji’s garage, casting long shadows across the floor as you lean against the doorframe, watching him work. 

His muscles flexed as he tightened a bolt with practiced ease. His black hair falls into his eyes, and he grunts, annoyed, pushing it back with his forearm before continuing.

You can’t help but smile at the sight. Toji, focused and in his element, and it was really turning you on…

The way he concentrated on the task at hand, brow furrowed and lips slightly parted as he grunted with effort, was enough to send heat coursing through you. Each twist of the wrench, every subtle shift of his frame, seemed to radiate raw masculinity, igniting a spark of desire deep within you.

Your pulse quickened, and you felt a warmth pooling in your core, drawn in by the mix of confidence and sheer masculinity he exuded.

Toji, sensing your gaze, glances over his shoulder, raising an eyebrow. “You gonna stand there all day or actually say something?” His voice is teasing, rough around the edges, but there’s that familiar smirk tugging at his lips, the one that makes your heart skip a beat.

You push off the doorframe and walk over, hands in your pockets, pretending to study the car (like you gave a damn) as if you understand half of what he’s doing. 

“Just admiring the view,” you reply with a grin, leaning against the workbench. “You sure know how to make fixing a car look… good.”

Toji snorts, wiping the grease from his hands onto a rag before tossing it aside. “Yeah? Well, don’t get used to it. Not many people get a free show.”

You roll your eyes at his usual bravado but can’t deny that there’s something captivating about him. He straightens up, towering over you with that smug grin still firmly in place. “What, you just came here to stare?”

You shrug, deciding to play along. “Maybe. Can’t blame me, right? You’re good at what you do.”

His smirk widens, and he steps closer, towering over you now. There’s an intensity in his gaze, but it’s softened by the playful glint in his eyes. “You saying I should charge for it?”

You laugh, lightly shoving him. “Please, you’d drive everyone away with that attitude.”

He chuckles, leaning back against the car, crossing his arms over his broad chest. “Probably. But you’re still here, so I must be doing something right.”

You look up at him, biting back a smile. “Guess I’m the lucky one, huh?”

Toji’s eyes narrow playfully, but there’s a warmth in his gaze that wasn’t there before. “Damn right.”

The two of you fall into a comfortable silence, the sounds of the garage filling the space once again. 

After a moment, you speak again, your voice softer. “Need any help?”

Toji glances at you, the corner of his mouth twitching. “You offering?”

You shrug, moving closer to inspect the tools scattered on the workbench. “Maybe. I’m not exactly a mechanic, but I can hold a wrench.”

He snorts, amused, and hands you a tool.

“Don’t hurt yourself. That’s my job.”

You take it, rolling your eyes at his comment. But as you stand next to him, following his instructions and working together on the car, there’s a quiet contentment in the air. 

You grip the wrench, watching Toji’s hands as he guides yours to the right bolt. His touch is firm, steady, sparking a heat between your thighs. His body is so close to yours that you felt the warmth radiating off him. 

You try to focus on the task at hand, but with Toji standing over you, the subtle scent of engine oil mixed with his cologne makes your heart race, and it's hard to concentrate.

"Like this?" You ask, adjusting the wrench in your hand, trying to distract yourself from your dirty thoughts.

Toji’s lips twitch into a smirk as he leans in closer, his breath warm against your ear.

"Tighten it, don’t baby it, baby." 

You roll your eyes but smile despite yourself. You give the wrench another turn, putting more effort into it this time.

"There. Happy?" You ask, looking up at him.

Toji’s gaze flickers down to meet yours, and for a moment, the air between you seems to thicken. 

His eyes darken, a hint of something playful yet dangerous lurking in them.

He doesn’t pull away. Instead, he leans in even closer, so close you can feel the brush of his arm against yours.

"Not bad," he murmurs, his voice low. His big arms reached over you and tightened the bolt even more, just showing off his strength. "Maybe you’re not as useless around here as I thought."

You narrow your eyes at him, though there’s no real annoyance in your expression. "Oh, please. I’m the best help you’ve ever had."

Toji’s grin widens, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "Big words for someone who didn’t even know where the wrench was five minutes ago."

You open your mouth to retort, but before you can, he reaches past you to grab another tool, his arm brushing against your side. 

He doesn’t move away, staying so close that your shoulders are practically touching. It’s deliberate—you can tell by the smug look on his face.

Your heart skips a beat, but you don’t back down. Instead, you let your own smile grow, deciding to meet his teasing head-on.

"Maybe I don’t know cars, but I know you like showing off. How long did it take you to fix that last engine again? Two hours?"

Toji lets out a low chuckle, clearly enjoying your banter. "Two hours, and it was perfect. Don’t forget that part."

You tilt your head, raising an eyebrow. "Perfect, huh? Or just barely passable?"

He narrows his eyes at you, though there’s a playful edge in his gaze.

"Careful. You’re gonna talk yourself out of a favour if you keep that up."

"Oh? What favour?" you ask, leaning against the car now, your arms crossed, fully enjoying the back-and-forth.

Toji leans down, bringing his face closer to yours, his grin shifting into something more dangerous, more tempting. "The one where I let you stick around here. Don’t think I’ll keep you around for free."

Your breath hitches slightly, but you don’t let it show. Instead, you match his energy, pushing back without missing a beat.

"Oh, so you’re saying I have to work to earn my keep? What’s the price, then? More wrench-holding?"

He chuckles again, the sound deep and rich, vibrating through the air between you. 

His eyes lock onto yours, and for a moment, the teasing fades into something heavier, something that lingers in the charged space between your bodies. 

He’s close enough now that you can see the flecks of green in his eyes, close enough that you can feel the warmth rolling off him.

"Nah," Toji says, his voice dropping an octave, turning more serious but still holding that playful tone.

"I’ve got enough wrenches. I’m thinkin’ of something a little more… personal."

You can feel your pulse quicken, but you don’t look away. "Oh? Like what?"

He leans in, just barely brushing his lips against your ear.

"Guess you’ll just have to stick around to find out."

For a second, the world seems to slow down, your senses overwhelmed by the proximity of him, the way his voice sends shivers down your spine. 

But before you can say anything, Toji pulls back, the smirk returning to his face as he casually grabs another tool and turns back to the car, as if nothing just happened.

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, your heart still pounding in your chest.

Toji always knows exactly how to push your buttons, how to get under your skin in a way that leaves you wanting more.

“Tease,” you mutter under your breath, shaking your head with a smile.

Toji glances over his shoulder, the corner of his mouth quirking up.

“I’m not teasing this time, I’m just busy. Like I said, stick around...”

His voice was low, almost serious, but that playful gleam in his eyes hasn’t faded. 

He gives you a wink, and something about the way he says it sends a shiver down your spine.

You open your mouth to reply, but words seem to get stuck in your throat. The way he’s looking at you right now—like you’re the only thing in the room worth paying attention to—makes your pulse quicken. 

The air between you feels heavy, charged with an energy you can’t quite name.

Toji watches your reaction closely, his grin fading into something softer, more intense. He drops the tool he was holding onto the workbench and turns fully toward you, wiping his hands on the rag before tossing it aside.

“You really think I’m just messin’ with you?”

Your breath catches as he steps closer, closing the already small distance between you. His presence is overwhelming—tall, broad, and carrying that rough, irresistible confidence he always seems to have. 

But this time, there’s something else in the way he looks at you, something different. His teasing smirk is gone, replaced by a look that makes your heart race.

“Toji…” you start, but you’re not even sure what you want to say.

He reaches out, his fingers brushing lightly against your chin, tilting your face up so that you’re forced to meet his eyes. The touch is surprisingly gentle, almost tender.

“I’m serious,” he says quietly, his voice low and rough around the edges. “You think I haven’t noticed? The way you look at me, the way you linger around here like you’re waitin’ for something to happen.”

Your cheeks burn at his words, and you’re not sure if it’s from embarrassment or anticipation.

Maybe both.

But before you can respond, Toji’s hand slips from your chin, moving to rest against the side of your neck, his thumb brushing against your skin. The touch sends a jolt of electricity through you.

“I’ve been holding back,” he murmurs, his voice hoarse, like he’s been keeping this confession locked away for too long.

The dark, dangerous edge in his tone sends a shiver down your spine. His grip on you tightens slightly, a subtle indication of just how much control he’s been forcing himself to maintain.

You’re painfully aware of how close he is now—his broad frame nearly eclipsing yours, his body radiating a heat that makes it harder to breathe. The faint scents of oil and metal lingers in the air, mixing with something distinctly him. It’s intoxicating.

“M’didn’t wanna push too far, but... maybe I’ve been waitin' for you to give me the green light.” His words hang in the air, a challenge wrapped in velvet. It’s like a line drawn in the sand, daring you to cross it.

Your heart pounds, adrenaline coursing through your veins. Every inch of you is hyper-aware of Toji—the way his hand lingers on your neck, the way his gaze seems to devour you. You want this. God, you want this.

“What if I gave you that green light right now?” The words leave your lips before you can fully process them, but there’s no hesitation, no second-guessing.

For a fleeting moment, Toji’s pupils dilate, his eyes narrowing with something primal, something dangerous. The smirk that spreads across his face is no longer playful—it’s predatory.

“Then I wouldn’t waste any more time.”

Before you can draw another breath, his mouth crashes down on yours, and it’s like a dam breaking—everything he’s been holding back unleashed in one searing, possessive kiss.

His hands move from your throat to your waist, pulling you against him so fiercely that your feet nearly leave the ground.

There’s nothing gentle about the way he kisses you. His lips are demanding, rough, as if he’s staking a claim.

You can feel the pent-up tension in every movement—the way his teeth graze your lower lip, the way his hands grip your hips like he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he loosens his hold.

Your hands move instinctively to his hair, fingers tangling in the dark strands, pulling him even closer.

You match his intensity, giving in to the heat that’s been simmering between you both for far too long. Every brush of his lips, every press of his body against yours ignites a fire low in your belly, making you ache for more.

Toji pulls back for just a moment, his lips hovering dangerously close to yours as he catches his breath. His eyes, hooded and dark, search yours as if looking for any trace of hesitation. But there is none.

“You sure you’re ready for this?” His voice is low, rumbling with barely restrained need.

Your answer comes not in words but in the way you tug him back to you, pressing your lips to his once more, harder this time, as if you’re trying to tell him with your body what your words can’t quite express.

Toji groans softly, the sound vibrating against your mouth as his hands begin to explore, sliding under the hem of your shirt.

His touch is scorching, sending jolts of electricity through your skin. 

There’s an urgency now, a desperation in the way his hands roam your body, as if he’s trying to memorize every inch of you. 

Your back hits the cold metal of his car behind you, the chill momentarily cutting through the heat between you, but it only seems to heighten the tension. 

Toji’s hands are firm on your waist, holding you in place against the cool surface, his body pressed against yours in a way that has your pulse racing.

He breaks the kiss, breathing heavily, his eyes smouldering with an intensity that makes your stomach flip. The darkness in his gaze has only grown deeper, and when he speaks, his voice is rough, husky, full of raw need.

“I’ve been patient,” he mutters, his thumb brushing over the sensitive skin just above the waistband of your jeans. “But you don’t want me to hold back anymore, do you?”

The way he says it, the low growl in his voice, sends a wave of heat straight to your throbbing pussy. 

You can only manage a small shake of your head, your throat too tight to form any words.

His lips twist into a smirk, something predatory glinting in his eyes as he steps back just enough to grab you by the waist and hoist you effortlessly onto the hood of the car behind you. 

He quickly unbuttoned your jeans, sliding them off your legs, letting his hands roam your skin.

The cold metal beneath you contrasts sharply with the warmth of his body as he steps between your legs, spreading them open with a firm grip on your thighs.

“You’ve been teasing me, y’know that?” he growls, his voice low and dangerous as his hands trace the outline of your hips, fingers brushing the edge of your panties.

“You comin’ in here wearing these tight jeans, given’ me those looks.”

Before you can respond, he hooks his fingers into the waistband of your panties and, with one sharp tug, the fabric tears apart in his hands. 

The sound of it—quick and final—echoes in the small garage, and the cool air hits your skin, making you gasp.

Toji’s eyes darken as he looks down at you, his gaze hungry and unrestrained. He licks his lips, the smirk from earlier gone, replaced with something far more serious.

“Look at you,” he murmurs, his hands sliding up your inner thighs, rough fingers brushing the sensitive skin as he leans down, bringing his face closer to your dripping cunt. His breath ghosts over your exposed skin, sending a shiver down your spine.

“Such a pretty sight.”

He pauses for a second, his thumb brushing dangerously close to your center, teasing, but not yet giving you the touch you desperately need. You squeeze your eyes shut, your head falling back with pleasure.  

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to do this.”

Then, with a slow, deliberate movement, he lets his thumb slide over your slick folds, testing your reaction, watching the way your body responds under his touch. The anticipation, the raw hunger in his gaze, it’s all too much, and you let out a desperate moan. 

Your breath hitches as Toji's thumb slides teasingly through your folds, his touch both rough and deliberate.

You try to bite back the groan threatening to escape your lips, but the way his eyes flicker up to meet yours tells you he notices everything.

“Don’t hold back now,” he rasps, his voice gravelly, sending shivers down your spine.

“I wanna hear every pretty sound you make.”

Before you can react, he dips his head between your thighs, and the warmth of his breath against your sensitive skin makes your body tremble. His hands grip your thighs firmly, keeping you in place, as his tongue traces a slow, agonizing path over your slick heat.

Your gasp echoes through the garage, head falling back against the hood of his car as pleasure surges through you. 

You feel Toji’s lips curl into a smirk against you, clearly enjoying the way your body reacts to his touch. 

He doesn’t hold back—his tongue flicks, swirls, and sucks, each movement precise and calculated, as though he’s savouring every moment of this.

“Fuck, Toji—” you gasp, your hands instinctively flying to his hair, tugging at the dark strands as the heat builds inside you.

Toji growls in response, the vibrations of his voice against your pussy sending waves of pleasure through you, making your thighs shake. 

He dives in deeper, his mouth working relentlessly, tasting every inch of you, each flick of his tongue pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

The sensation is overwhelming—his lips, his tongue, the way his fingers dig into your thighs, holding you open for him, like you’re his to devour. 

It’s too much and not enough all at once. Every brush of his mouth over your clit sends electricity shooting through your body, and leaves you whining for more.

Your hips buck instinctively, seeking more, needing more of the pleasure he’s giving you.

Toji chuckles, dark and amused, his voice muffled as he continues to work you with his mouth. “So needy,” he murmurs, his voice like velvet against your heated skin. “I like that.”

It’s like he knows exactly how to unravel you, like he’s been waiting for this moment, studying you, learning your body, just so he could do this—just so he could make you fall apart beneath him.

“Toji—m' gonna cum,” you choke out, your voice barely a whisper, but he knows what you need. 

He speeds up, his mouth and fingers working in tandem, the relentless pace driving you higher and higher, until the world falls away and all that’s left is him, his touch, and the pleasure that crashes over you in waves.

You cry out as your orgasm rips through you, your thighs clamping around his head as your body shakes with the intensity of it. 

But Toji doesn't let up, continuing to lap at you, drawing out your pleasure until you're trembling from the aftershocks.

Finally, he pulls back, his lips and chin glistening as he looks up at you with a satisfied grin, eyes dark with lust. He wipes the back of his hand across his mouth, standing back up, towering over you once again.

“Come here, pretty girl,” he rasps, his voice a low growl that sends another wave of heat through your body.

Before you can catch your breath, his large hand slides behind your neck, gripping it firmly, but not harshly. 

He lifts you from your position on the car, pulling you up until you’re sitting in front of him, your legs dangling off the edge of the hood. His hand lingers at your neck, his thumb brushing against your pulse, feeling the rapid beat of your heart.

Your body is still humming with the afterglow of your orgasm, but when you glance down and see Toji’s other hand move to the waistband of his pants, your breath hitches again. 

He keeps his eyes locked on yours as he unbuttons them slowly, deliberately, the tension between you thickening once more.

Toji's eyes gleamed with that dark hunger as his grip on your neck tightened just a fraction, enough to remind you who was in control. His free hand moved to the back of your thigh, pulling you forward on the car until you could feel the heat of him between your legs.

“Look at you,” he growled, his voice low and rough as his hand caressed the curve of your hip, dragging you closer to him.

“So pretty, all spread out for me.”

Your breath caught as you felt the tip of him brush against your entrance, your entire body already aching for him, needing more. You leaned into his grip on your neck, your pulse racing beneath his fingers as you whispered,

“Please, Toji…”

He chuckled darkly at the desperation in your voice, his grin widening as he pressed himself just a little harder against you, teasing you.

“Please what, baby? You gotta use your words.”

You squirmed under his grip, your body screaming for more contact, for him to stop teasing.

“God Toji—I want y’to fuck me,” you said in frustration, your voice barely audible as your body begged for him.

“Good girl.” His voice was a low, approving growl as he finally lined himself up with you, his voice sent another wave of heat to your aching pussy. Without another word, he pulled you forward, thrusting into you in one swift motion.

The sudden stretch had you gasping, eyes wide as your walls adjusted to his size, the feeling of him filling you completely was overwhelming.

Toji groaned, his grip on your neck tightening as he stilled inside you, savouring the feeling for just a moment. You grabbed his shoulders, nails digging into his skin.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he muttered through clenched teeth, his eyes locked on yours as each thrust sent a shockwave of pleasure through your body.

Your hands instinctively reached for him, fingers tangling in his dark hair as you clung to him, every nerve in your body on fire. Toji’s lips curled into a smug grin at the way you responded to him, the way your body seemed to melt under his touch.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” He rasped, his breath hot against your ear as he leaned in closer while maintaining his rough pace. His grip on your neck shifted to pull your head back slightly. 

“Tell me how good it feels.”

“It’s so good,” you moaned, your voice trembling as he began to pick up the pace, the force of his thrusts making the car creak beneath you. 

Every movement pushed you higher, the pressure building inside you all over again as Toji took you apart piece by piece.

Toji’s pace became relentless, each thrust hitting deeper, harder, and your body was a live wire, every nerve tingling under his touch. The pressure inside you built impossibly fast, the pleasure coiling tight in your core, threatening to snap.

“Toji—" you whimpered, barely able to form words as he drove into you, your body quivering beneath him. 

Hot tears pricked at your eyes from the overstimulation you felt—never ever had anyone fucked you like this.

He groaned at the sound of your voice, his lips brushing against your ear.

"That’s it, pretty girl. Cum f’me," he rasped, his hand tightening around your neck just enough to send a thrill through you.

The roughness of his voice, the commanding way he held you—it pushed you over the edge. 

Your body tensed, the world spinning as your orgasm ripped through you with a force that left you gasping, your walls clenching tightly around him as wave after wave of pleasure coursing through your veins.

You cried out his name followed by a pornographic moan, legs trembling, your nails digging into his shoulders as you rode the intensity of it, your whole body shaking as the pleasure overtook you. 

Toji’s hand slipped from your neck, sliding down to your waist as he kept moving, working you through the aftershocks as your body convulsed beneath him.

“There you go,” he growled, his voice thick with satisfaction, his hips slowing as he watched the way you writhed under him, completely lost in the ecstasy he’d given you.

Panting and spent, your body collapsed back against the car, your chest heaving as the last waves of your orgasm rolled through you.

Toji’s eyes gleamed with pride as he pulled out, his hands still possessively resting on your hips.

"You look so damn pretty when you cum," he murmured, leaning down to press a rough kiss against your lips, your body still tingling from the intensity of it all.

You were utterly spent, trembling in the aftermath, but as Toji’s lips curled into that familiar smirk, you knew...

He wasn’t done with you yet.

[ohimsummer]

QUIET IN THE LIBRARY !

— minors dni, bully! stsg x reader, dubcon, exhibitionism, óral [ m. receiving ], cóckwarming, facefúcking, pet names (princess, sweetheart, pet)

geto’s cock rests warm and heavy on your tongue, sprinkling the salty taste of precum onto your tastebuds. he shifts again in his seat, tilting his hips to shove his length a little further down your throat again, knowing it’s going to make you choke—and it does. the tip pushes further towards the back of your throat, nearly forcing a gag to spring free, but you just manage to swallow it down. his other hand rubs a gentle thumb over your cheek—a wordless ‘good pet’ for remaining so quiet.

though you’re not exactly sucking him off, geto is perfectly content sitting with you like this, in the heated embrace of your mouth. he finds it a little comfy, to be honest. the library is chilly, and he prefers the warmth inside you over anything his clothes could provide. not to mention, he’s just getting your mouth ready, so there is an actual purpose to you being down there.

that reason would be entirely unknown to you, however. in your mind, this is just the average day of suguru geto being an asshole, cornering you and stuffing you beneath the most secluded desk and basically forcing you into things you didn’t plan on doing. if you were somewhere else, in any other setting, you would have told him to get fucked and leave you alone because he has no right to be making demands like this. but you’re in public, and a library, of all places. there’s too many people around, and it’s too quiet. someone like geto has surefire ways to have you raising your voice in less than a minute, and you do not need the entire building to know he’s trying to have you cockwarm him under the table. it’s easier to just deal with it; comply and hope he doesn’t plan on using you for too long.

so, yes, you are doing this “willingly”, in the loosest of terms. and it pisses you off that while you’re down here on bruised knees and getting fucking carpet burn, geto is leaned back as casually as he can, still reading through the pages of a book as your jaw grows sore. he’s been still besides the few purposeful thrusts of his hips to get you to choke—asshole.

something catches his attention, and suddenly geto is slipping himself from your lips, tucking his length into his pants. you’re confused, but before you can maneuver yourself out of the cramped underside of the desk, there is someone else sliding into the chair—someone worse.

“heya, princess!”, gojo whispers a little too loudly, with beads of sweat rolling down his face. “comfy down there?”

both your mouth and brows droop down into a scowl, the pair of men plainly amused at your cute, little expression.

“open up, sweetheart,” gojo commands. he’s quick to undo his belt and pants, tugging his cock free from its confines. it’s stiff and throbbing already, leaking absurd amounts of pre down the length to drip onto his hand, where gojo gives himself slow, teasing pumps.

he doesn’t give you time to prepare before he’s shoving his tip past your lips, rubbing himself over the wet insides of your mouth.

“you ran through campus with a boner?”, geto snickers over his head, watchful eyes glancing between gojo’s manhandling of you and the vacant library to keep a lookout.

his snowy-haired other half is loud, making things way more obvious than geto did. not that he isn’t aware, no, gojo simply doesn’t give a fuck. he’s good at a lot of things, but practicing restraint is not one of them, and he damn sure isn’t about to start now. especially not with you.

gojo darts a pink tongue out to wet his lips, messily clearing away locks of your hair to get a nice view of your pretty face as he thrusts sloppily into your mouth. “i c—couldn’t, fu—ck, help it. did you expect me to— to take my time after you sent me that?”

his best friend only gives a low, delighted chuckle in reply. you catch geto’s gaze as he gives you a long stare, and then palms over the bulge in his pants.

“fuck, suguru got you all nice and loose for me.”, gojo pants, licking away a dewdrop of drool at the corner of his lips. he lets out a low groan, and you see geto’s head snap up to give someone a very menacing glare. “look at him makin’ this nice and easy for us. thank him after i’m through, yeah?”

you don’t respond, can’t respond when gojo’s tip incessantly prods at the back of your throat. gags and chokes are ripped from your throat, muffled and low but surely noticeable by anyone nearby. you expect to be caught and kicked out any minute now, forced to do the walk of shame with these two dumbasses.

gojo slams you down on his cock, and he holds you there. your chest stutters, body heaves as you struggle for any breath of air through the fabric of his shirt pressed against your nose, or the white hairs at his base tickling your face.

just as quickly, he’s pulling you away, and you barely breathe in a single gasp before gojo is shooting ropes of cum to paint your face. you squeeze an eye shut as he almost spurts into your eye, him giggling childishly as he thumbs it away and pokes the same finger into your mouth for you to suck clean.

gojo tosses his head back to catch his own breath. he shoves his cock back into his boxers, straightening out his clothes before rubbing his hands through your ruffled hair.

“ ‘kay, let’s go.”, he says proudly, grabbing you by the upper arm to pull you to your feet. “ up, now, we’re going to your dorm.”

you’re puzzled. apparently, they’re not done with you. “…why?”

“you still gotta thank suguru properly. duh.”

📚: @anthoosies @teddybeartoji @deepenthevoid @bubblez-blop @luvvmae @risuola @bunnymacaron @sbgg @paradiseoflosers @rosso-seta @hehehehesthings @starlightanyaaa @higurumapet @astral-hydromancy @lcvelina @lynettess @savethegoddamnturtles @apatauaia @sataraxia @starsharkz @h-4-bib @idkluvv @b-b-b-my-b-f-f @sugu-love @xinfvl @mikeysflag @krraayy @ichikanu @marichat0n @gyaruismind @sugojosgf @xocherishxo @sukunastarr-69 @glmpsfs @anxie-tiddies @euphoriagrae @astrasworldsblog @lovesickliyue @mrs-nicoleee @mxsocool

[fallenneziah]

is it too much if i ask you to do a part two of alpha!ghost and omega!reader 🥹

Ah, don't worry @dragonstoneshortcake I will feed you more.

Alpha!Ghost and Omega!Reader pt2

If you haven't you can go back and read part 1 and 3

Your first heat with Alpha!Ghost was one that would stick with you. Ghost all the same. After that first heat, watching his seed slowly dripping from your fluttering hole. He wanted to do it all over again.

Alpha!Ghost who let's you keep his shirt, telling you, "you might need it sweetheart," with a wink and starts to pack himself up.

Omega!Reader who does in fact need that shirt. Who has unexplainable want to burrow into it. Whimpering at night and holding it tight to suffocate you like a pillow.

Like a rabbit kicking it's back legs from excitement or anxiousness.

Omega!Reader who hasn't experienced anything like Ghost's thick cock deep inside them. Who moan loudly as they think about his knot stuck inside your sweet hole.

Alpha!Ghost who gets in teasing touches during practice. Hand gliding down reader's ass or over their shoulder. Warm breath fanning to their ear, tumbling deeply when he sees the sore bite marks that still remain seared on their skin.

Alpha!Ghost who ruts his cock between his pillow, trying to get friction like that little omega, the chemical reaction of your heat burned into his mind.

Omega!Reader who breaks the cycle and heads to Ghost's office, tenacious and eager. The smell of your delicious pheromones tell him all he needs to know before he's sliding you closer, hands on your hips, guiding you along.

Omega!Reader who takes Ghost's cock in their mouth, sweat tears rolling as Ghost's hips cant up, his voice vibrating in their stomach.

"Oh such a good fuckin' angel... So fuckin' pretty on my cock, so fuckin' pretty..." He groans, stroking your cheek as saliva drips down your chin and you choke down his length.

Alpha!Ghost who plays into and teases reader for being so needy. Spanking their ass as he takes down their pants, bending them over the desk and growling in their ear as his fingers work their hole.

Omega!Reader who whines in reply, bringing this interaction down simply to submit, and submitted. The animal in desperation and the animal willing to give. Basic instincts imbedded in your genes telling you to take him. And take him all.

Alpha!Ghost who doesn't care that your pheromones spread. Others will know it's him taking you. His cock sinking into your hole, pushing you against the desk, nails digging in.

"Look at you- oh fuckin' 'ell sweetheart-" He growls.

Alpha!Ghost who doesn't spare you anymore than last time. He knows you're out of heat and just want his cock, and he'll give it to you. Rearranging your insides and keeping you completely pinned under him. Seeing you squirm and arch before giving up makes him feel so good.

Alpha!Ghost who gets you on his knot, slamming deep inside of you, feeling how far he's pushed, that slight swell in your belly from how deep his cock is seated inside you.

"You look so good on my knot..." He admires his work, he admires your body.

Sitting in his chair and caressing your body. Making you whimper and shiver. His lips and tongue tasting every little bit of you. Your sweet scent just leaking off you.

Alpha!Ghost who hadn't talked with you about what you actually were. You'd fucked twice and he didn't really know If you'd want it further.

Did that stop him from protecting you? No.

Alpha!Ghost who is so protective over you more now than ever. If you're sparring with someone else and they remotely touch you wrong Ghost is up in their face with a nasty snarl.

That's his. You back away. Back the fuck away.

Alpha!Ghost who as far as he's concerned, mated or not, you're his. His seed stains your insides, he's been closest to your smell than anyone in base, he's seen you in heat. He's pounded your brains out.

You. Are. His.

Omega!Reader who finds themselves at Ghost's door often after nightmares. When they'd opt to be alone mostly, they can't help wanting his scent. Hearing him hum as he let's you in, smelling him everywhere.

Omega!Reader burrowing into Ghost's side and his blankets, unable to help being completely consumed by the scent. It's not bad, they sniff him, paw at him, shifting through the night.

Alpha!Ghost who finds it... Rather adorable that you want more of him. Shifting a little so you can press your face up to his chest, inhaling deeply and whimpering into his arms.

Omega!Reader who completely melts when his arms wrap around them, feeling very comforted and safe with him.

Omega!Reader whose nightly occurrences in Ghost's room because frequent. Every other night the two share a bed, sometimes leading to his cock down your throat as you slowly or desperately suck him off.

Or other times it ends with his knot deep inside you, whispering about how he'll get you pregnant. He'll knock you up so good with his pups.

Omega!Reader whose fantasies are all Ghost. Him pounding them full of pups and making them leak. Back arched and crying out his name like it's the only word they know.

Omega!Reader knowing they want so much more with Ghost. Knowing they want off their pills, to let his seed get them pregnant. Who wants to be called his mate. Who wants that so so badly.

Omega!Reader who will notice how Ghost gets flirted with by betas around the base and will end up whining. Like a neglected puppy.

"What's wrong love? Someone step on your tail?" Ghost will tease, unaware the other officers flirting has severely ticked you off.

Omega!Reader who tries to pull Ghost to their whim once, getting so far as a utility closet before Ghost shoves them in, pressing his chest to their back, hearing them whimper desperately for something.

"Shh, think you get to do that sweetheart? No, no angel." He whispers, kissing your cheek and rutting against your ass.

I'm sure you'll work it out together somehow 😉

[nymphomatique]

wanna sit on nerd miguel’s face while i use my phone to snap other guys that’s my little chair fr😔😻

this just changed the trajectory of my life in a way you cannot understand.

cw: slight d/s dynamics, sending nudes, munch miguel makes an appearance once more, bro literally FEASTS, new character yippee (v minor), brief choking (more like a neck squeeze tbh), praise, squirting LOL, miguel gets kicked out again 😔 reader catching feelings?? we may never know. semi proofread today i felt nice. this is a longer one than usual, so enjoy!

“stop fuckin’ squirming down there and eat me out properly,” you say, looking down at miguel. his eyes are hazy and hooded, his glasses somewhere on the bed, his brown eyes clear as day. you grip his head by his hair and position him to where his nose brushes above your clit, and you moan at the feeling. “l-like that, okay miguel? be good for mommy.”

miguel takes heed of your instructions and begins to lick, suck, and thrust up into your wetness, making it hard for you to maintain something relative to your composure. in the throes of miguel’s mouth work, your phone screen, next to miguel’s head, lights up with a snapchat notification from none other than the star quarterback of your school, peter parker. you bite the corner of your lip, mouth pulling up in a smile at an idea. you grab your phone and open it to snapchat, seeing peters name at the top of your snap list. you open his snap and it’s a picture of him shirtless, abs on display, his happy trail just peeking over the band of his pants. his snap is captioned with text reading ‘wyd?’

you prop your camera up, angling it enough that miguel’s face and your pussy are out of frame. miguel stops for a moment to ask what you’re doing, but before he can get a word in you speak up, “if you stop, this will be the last time i ever let you touch me. got it? keep fucking going.” and wordless, miguel does as he’s told, going back to eating you but with a new energy this time. it catches you off guard a bit, and you let out a light f-fuck in response, but you don’t let it derail you from answering peter back.

peter. you and him have had.. complicated history to say the least. since high school, the two of you ran in the same social circles, with him being on your high school football team and you, a cheerleader. a true status quo. the two of you had ended up attending the same underaged parties, hooking up and even going steady for some time, until the blonde busty thing known as gwen stacy walked into your high school in sophomore year and made her claim on your then boyfriend. you figured it out after you walked in on them under the bleachers post-game, the spot where you habitually got on your knees to congratulate peter for his win. you stayed with him after a profuse apology and intense “i’m sorry” fuck session, to your dismay, but broke up with him in the beginning of your senior year. now, you two fuck from time to time, scratching an itch when you have it.

you look back at the tease of a photo on your phone, your tits spilling out your plunge neck crop top and your abdomen cutting off right above your pubic area, your pink thong still visible coming up the sides of your hips. you feel miguel plunge his tongue into you, causing you to fall forward, steadying yourself with one hand, phone in the other. “keep this up and i’m gonna squirt on you, but i bet you’re into that huh?” you laugh out a little, miguel moaning into you in response. you try not to get distracted and caption your snap to peter ‘nothing really’ and press send.

immediately, you see that he opens it and he replies just as fast, this time the photo of him in grey sweats with a visible tent, layer out on his bed. the caption attached, ‘wanna turn your nothing to a something? ;)’ and you roll your eyes. you move to answer him with another midriff picture, but you change your mind. “hey, look at me dweeb,” you say, turning the camera so that it’s capturing the angle of miguel’s mouth on your pussy, covered in spit and your juices. he looks up and sees the camera of your phone pointed down towards him and he goes red in the face and tight lipped. “remember what i told you about stopping,” you remind him, and he maintains eye contact with the camera as he goes back to lick a strip up your pussy, from your leaking hole to your clit. you move your unoccupied hand to his face, palm to his cheek as you slowly caress him with your thumb. “that’s a good boy.”

you move your hand from his cheek, trailing softly down to his strong neck and you wrap your hand around his neck and squeeze. at the pressure he lets out a groan, his hands moving to grip your thighs tighter to his face. “fuck miguel, you’re making mommy so happy right now- ah! fuck, just like that. keep doing that, o-okay?” you moan out. he says nothing, his eyes, still maintaining contact with the camera, clouded with lust, answering for him.

you snap a picture, turned on at the lewdness of it. it’s your pussy on miguel’s face, pink panties pushed to the side as his mouth is sucking on your clit, his hands gripping the fat of your thighs, and your hand around his neck at the same time. you make quick work to save the photo and caption it ‘busy, sorry’, feeling your orgasm approach. you press send and drop your phone, ignoring the back to back buzzing, probably of peters reply to your salacious snap.

a steady heat begins to boil in the pit of your stomach, and you keen forwards, your hand leaving miguel’s neck to grip the white sheets on your bed. “i’m gonna cum, i’m gonna cum, i’m gonna-“ and with that, you feel the pleasure within you tighten then burst, like a damn breaking way, and you begin to tremble as miguel continues his work down on you. the overstimulation begins to hit you, and you feel a spurt of liquid leave your body and miguel groan and suck. “oh my god,” you heave out, “st-stop, no more.”

miguel places a final kiss to your mound as he moves to lift your limp hips for you. he feels sheepish how, his sweater and mouth drenched with your liquids. he wipes his lips and makes way to speak to your still firm on the bed. “are- are you okay?”

you say nothing, grab the nearest pillow you have, and throw it at him. miguel dodges and understands that means get the fuck out.

after collecting yourself, your body still spent and sheets still wet, you roll over on your back and grab your phone to look at what peter replied to you. you open his snap, and laugh a little at his responses.

peter 🚮

| is that fucking o’hara..?

| you’re fucking with me???

| fucking whore

| you sleep with nerds now??

you make way to reply to peter one more time, opening the camera and taking a picture of the wet bedsheets, caption it ‘nerds that can make me cum? yeah’ and unadd him after.

you finally haul yourself up to change your sheets when you see miguel’s glasses on your bed. you grab them and put them on your nightstand, feeling heat rush through your blood to your face, thinking of him and the mess he made of you.

fucking dweeb.

[larcenywrites]

For Love, We Sin the Most

Nightcrawler x Reader

Technically spoilers if you read any x-men anthology and haven't made it through second coming/ haven't read quest for nightcrawler. I don't get into many details or stay very canon anyway lol

Warnings: 18+ | no pronouns or assignments used for reader | unprotected sex | sex in a church | kinda public sex? | an established relationship of some kind ;) | sad | but happy ending! sort of | lots of plot with some porn | comfort/fluff | a little foreplay, a little aftercare | light bondage? sorry I really love his tail

Word count: 2,650

Summary: The resident catholic is having a hard time settling with the terms of his resurrection and just trying to feel again.

When Rachel frantically called on you to find Nightcrawler, you probably preferred to find him in battle, fighting demons. Luckily, on a Sunday morning, you knew exactly where to look first, creaking open the large wooden door just enough to pass through into the small lobby. The lights were off, but there was low singing from further inside. You would have proceeded to peek past that second set of doors, but the quick flick of blue that curled out from the sunlight and into the shadows nearby finished your investigation for you. 

Well, you did, in fact, find him fighting demons.

This would normally be the part where you'd tease him about being terrible at hiding, but you didn't need to see his face to hold your tongue. Instead, you found a nearby panel of switches, flooding his side of the room in low light. Without the darkness, he could no longer blend and hide, but he didn't recoil. Hunched over, his hands were clasped together on his knees, and his tail tightly curled over his feet. You approached him wordlessly. You could tell he was focused but not on you, proven when he crossed himself right on cue. A cue you hardly heard yourself. 

He continued to sit still for a few minutes. Obviously, he knew who stood before him. Otherwise he would have hid. Taking a deep breath, you placed a hand on his shoulder. "Shouldn't you be attending the service?" You asked softly. 

"I," he finally choked out after several moments. "I'm not sure I am allowed to anymore." His words, although quiet, dripped with despair. For him, this welcoming foyer was his ancient narthex, created for those who weren't allowed into the sanctuary but still wished to listen to its sermon. 

"Have you spoken to a Father about it?" Without further knowledge, you can only suggest a priest. 

"And what would I say?" Kurt raised his voice in his anguish and grimaced at his own volume. "What would he say?" He tagged on, much quieter this time. He practically curled into himself as if he were cold. You sighed sadly at the sight, looking away. A small staircase in the corner caught your interest and gave you another idea. Reaching your hands down to his, you unfurled his hands from one another and took them into yours. At the gesture, he finally lifted his head to look at you. It took all you could not to take his sad face in your hands instead. 

"I think he would tell you to come in," you reply in a gentle whisper. You smile down at him as you barely tug him towards you, convincing him to stand. When he finally does, you study him. His black blazer and black slacks, his white button-up shirt. A few top buttons were messily undone, but it only made him more handsome. Silently, with a hand in his, you led him up those wooden steps. Your intuition was right when they opened into a high balcony overlooking the inner room. That narrow gallery stretched against the wall was mostly dark, with only the tops of stained glass windows bleeding in light over the single row of benches. There was a reason someone like him chose such a dark, unpopulated church. 

As you began to leave the doorway, deadweight stopped you in your tracks. Looking back, a pair of downcast yellow eyes glowed under the wooden arch. Naturally, he blended into the shadow. You came back to him, taking his other hand and settling between him and the wall. At the very least, maybe it would help for him to see this place again, you figured. You let him listen, watching him closely as he watched the floor. 

And what a horrible day for a sermon about heaven. 

"I saw it, you know," he barely spoke up, accent whispering like a snake. "Paradise." He said the word hauntingly, not with any grandeur nor remorse. He turned his head as he spoke, looking down at the alter, but he seemed distant. Perhaps in memory. The light of the window caught his eye and reflected brilliant pale yellow. In the darkness, the other was like fire. 

"And yet you came back," you whispered back. Even you weren't quite sure what you meant by it, but he knew it wasn't merely an observation. Contemplating, he stared down into the room. The priest below continued, but you only wanted to hear whatever else Kurt had to say. 

"There were many reasons I did what I did," he soon continued, still not looking at you. "Did it the way I did." He never told you the full story, not even Logan knew. You waited for more, but he didn't respond. He probably didn't want to talk about it—at least, not for another few minutes.

"I never thought that love would be my greatest sin," he finally said. "I wanted so badly to come back," he nearly sobbed, quickly putting his hand over his mouth to keep from interrupting the service below. He gathered himself for a few moments. 

"To this place," he continued, "to my friends," he sighs before turning towards you, his fiery orbs still refusing to meet your gaze, "to you." Even when you cupped his cheek in your hand, his hand you left behind followed, fingers wrapping around your wrist. "That it would be greater than my love for God," he started but didn't finish when his voice began to rise again. By now he was rambling about things you hardly understood, but you hung on to every word. 

"You said it yourself," you gently tease, more loving than lighthearted. "There is no love without sin." With a soft smile, your touch on his cheek stroked over the fur on his neck and drifted over what bare upper chest those undone buttons revealed. You knew you shouldn't, not here, but as his expression only grew more somber, you found yourself sliding your hand further, reaching the space above his heart for only a second before frantic yet gentle fingers pulled you away, afraid of what you'd find.

Or the lack thereof. 

You couldn't stand to see him so sad, not even willing to look at you. As the preaching continued somewhere down below, something about fulfillment, there was really only one thing on your mind as you continued to watch his pained eyes. "Do you miss it?" You didn't mean to let your emotion ring in your tone as you whispered— doubt, disappointment, sadness. He picked up on it, raising his face once more to meet your gaze. Solemn eyes panicked, realizing his mistake. With a change of posture, he stepped closer, grasping your arm and placing your palm over his chest again. "Not in the same way I missed here," he reassured you. His eyes were still sad, but so earnest. You could feel the metal cross hanging from his pendant with how hard he pressed your palm into his chest. You both stared at one another in silence, but understanding. 

Something about the word doom was quietly uttered through the archway.  

"I realize now that I had already found Paradise," he proclaimed longingly, leaning in slightly. Though flattered, you only half-smiled. 

"You shouldn't talk like that here," you whispered, cupping his jaw. "Surely it's a sin." 

And he'd already cut his path of redemption short enough. 

"And yet it would be a sin not to." His tone was almost desperate. He leaned in closer, head tilted dangerously close to a kiss. You began to protest, but his grip on your arm tightened in defiance. "My soul is already adrift elsewhere," he hissed in a hurried whisper, "and He has no use for my body." He shook his head in defeat, tilting his chin to kiss the hand that held him before looking back up. "So if it's all I have left, I will use it to worship who does." His voice cracked against your lips, and he practically fell into you. 

Your back hit the wall with a thud that made you panic, but any protest of his name was muffled and lost between his lips. He could only follow what made him feel at the moment, and he'd come to his senses later, but right now, he was desperate to atone for his sins in a different way. It was a long, suffocating kiss that was touch-starved, hardly focused on any particular pleasure other than the need for your warmth. Despite knowing your current circumstances, you relaxed into him, taking your hand from his face and gripping the soft, indigo curls on the back of his head. He took that as his cue to press into you impossibly more, knees knocking with yours as you both nearly buckled from his weight. 

Finally, he pulled back just enough to catch his breath, warm breath fanning against your cheek a few times before eagerly diving back in. This time, he moved with you. Your noses knocked each time he rolled his head to find his favorite angle, and, in annoyance, you tried to hold him still with your hand on his neck and your grip on his hair. In response, his lips parted, tongue lapping at your top lip and tentatively touching yours when you let him in. 

His grip on your waist was harsh, almost as if he was scared that if he let go even a little, he might lose this moment forever. As if he couldn't hold you enough, his tail joined in, wrapping itself beneath your ass and tightly snaking around your waist. You felt him smile into the kiss when you pet over the peach fuzz of his tail before he abruptly pulled away from your lips, tongue sliding over your bottom lip as he withdrew into your neck. Sweetly, he kisses your pulse. And you know where he's going. 

"We should 'port somewhere else," you suggest softly. The light kisses on your neck become open-mouthed and wet, showing you just what he thinks about your suggestion. You catch the words reunion with God bouncing off the wall, and you weren't sure if the devil himself said it or the clergyman was sermonizing below. You tilted your head back for him at the prickling feeling of his fangs. 

With a mind of their own, your hands worked down the rest of the button on his shirt, splaying your fingers through the velvety fluff of his chest, barely able to feel the warm beating of his heart. At least you knew that he was alive, in some way or another. 

Making sure you could feel all of him, you pushed his blazer and shirt off his shoulders, feeling him down and scratching over his abs just the way he used to like it, and he tensed them just the way you remember. 

When his hands left your hips to slide off his clothes, they came back to do the same to you, sliding under your top and over your bare skin. You let him undress you, and eventually, you both stood nude. 

Even after being… gone for so long, he remembered just where to touch you. He held your hips flush with his while licked over your nipple, pawed between your legs, and tickled your inner thigh with the curling of his fuzzy tail. Feeling boneless, the wall helped him to hold you up while you focused on covering your mouth to muffle your pleasured moans and sighs. 

You were suddenly spun around, strong arms wrapped tightly around you as they swiftly lowered you to the wooden floor. Kurt's lithe form settled between your legs, back bowed as he bent down to mouth over your stomach. On his knees, he worshiped you carnally, hands gripping over-excitedly at your thighs and waist. 

Fingers around your wrist pulled your hand from your mouth, quickly replaced with that crushing pair of full lips again. Some would say he was desecrating holy ground, but Kurt would say quite the opposite. In a nest of clothes, right there in the dark loft of his place of faith, he took you. Whether it was because he was most comforted here or because he was angry at the circumstances, his hips pumped into you with a fervor that had you clawing into his back and biting his shoulder to muffle your whines. 

The floor was cold and hard and uncomfortable as he rocked you back and forth, but he was the opposite— warm and soft and lovingly fucking you into the ground. Luckily, the pious music drifting through the doorway covered up the sound of his cock slapping into you and his hissing moans as you bit and carved the punishment of love into his skin. 

You were ripped from his shoulder when he sat up, not even bothering to cover your gasping moan at the change in angle. Blunt nails dug into your skin as he held your hips, making your legs squirm and draw up behind him with the overstimulated pleasure. 

It was like a perverse religious painting, with his cross pendant wildly swinging above you and fangs gleaming along with his eyes; his tail, pointed like a devil's, bound your legs around his waist. This was heaven to him right now, watching you arch your back off the ground and eyes fluttering heavily as you both found that perfect sweet spot. 

It was when you came on him that his glowing eyes beheld the glorious sight he was searching for. He kept going, desperate to keep the image of your moaning, parted lips in his mind, and keep the feeling of your warm cream that dripped over his cock. "Oh~ mein gott," he growled at the way you tightened around him. You could almost laugh at the way he said it if you weren't busy trying to recover. "(Y/N)," he panted and spoke your name like gospel. "My dearest."

Your only response could be a meek whimper of his name, but it was enough when you weakly rolled your head to look up at him. If you couldn't tell by the way his brows raised and furrowed, you knew that he was right on the edge by the constriction of his tail around your ankles, keeping you bound around him while he came, throbbing, deep inside you. 

It was quiet now, aside from panting and the sounds of the congregation conversing and slowly departing that same creaking door that got you here in the first place. You felt you could finally relax and close your eyes when the last of the noise was shut out with the door, and you could finally stretch out your legs again as you felt his tail unravel. He had the same idea, stretching out his legs when he fell into your side. He let you have your space, but that sneaky tail laid loosely over your thigh. 

You felt a sort of regret for him as you turned to take in the proper view of his nude form lying elegantly in your bed of disheveled clothes, wishing to know what this meant for him… but you weren't going to ask, letting him bask in release— whatever kind it was. You reached for his pendant, twirling the chain between your fingers and observing the discoloration of the metal cross. Without even opening an eye, he took your attention away from it with a touch, making you hold his hand against his chest instead. 

"I-" You eventually break the silence but pause, unsure what excerpt you should say. It gets his attention, eyes lifting to look into yours. You muster a smile. "I'm glad you're back," you say softly, simply. Despite the circumstances, despite what it meant, despite what it's already done to you, you wanted to add, but his own bittersweet smile already knew what you meant. 

"Me too," he whispered and brought your hand up from his chest to kiss your knuckles. "Me too, my dear." 

[sunghoonbite]

okay how about enha's (the members you write for) reaction to reader crying during like really rough sex?

pairing: hyung line (- hoon) x reader

warnings: nsfw, rough sex, dacryphilia, choking, degradation, throat fucking, biting, mentions of marks and bruises

minors dni before reading

oh anon i love you . your mind. this took so long im sorry but i love this. i’ll get to my other rqs soon i swear. hope this makes up for the wait

when heeseung fucks, he fucks hard. and that’s exactly how you found yourself face down pressed into his mattress, whimpering out into the pillow beneath you.

heeseung gets carried away often. first he gets distracted by your outfit, and then by your curves, thighs, and body. when he gets his hands on you, he’s unable to stop. for lack of a better term, he thinks with his dick. so when he’s inside you, pounding you from behind as you whine, he goes faster with each noise. every little shiver of movement, every sound, he gets addicted to the feeling of you against him.

he gripped your waist, palms tightening into your skin, pulling you closer to him as if he wasn’t already inside of you. he let out a groan before fucking you harder, resulting in your legs giving out. to this, he responded by holding your weight up and continuing.

overstimulated by the feeling of him thrusting in and out of you, your legs shook. he was fast, panting, shakily moaning as he fucked you. he didn’t think. he just continued to fill you up, completely ignoring the possibility that he might be too rough.

“heeseung,” you shakily cried out, gripping the sheets.

“yeah?” he said, breathlessly, distracted by pleasure. you felt good, so fucking good clenched around him.

“too much, hee,” you whined. you hadn’t realized, but you had started to cry. tears that resulted from his coarseness formed, although not falling from your eyes yet, you sniffled.

“shit,” he spoke, pulling out at the sound. he began to console you, whispering out “hey, hey hey,” unintentionally conjoining each word together with the pace of his speech.

his grip on your waist made it easy to turn you around on your back, and he leaned over your body to wipe away tears that had found their way out of your eyes.

although embarrassed, you missed the feeling of him in you as soon as he pulled out, despite the roughness that took place. you lightly held onto his hand that now cupped your face.

“you didn’t have to stop,” you said, softly.

“but you’re crying?” he questioned in a similar soft tone, inadvertently tilting his head to the side as he spoke. he didn’t release his hand from your face just yet, allowing his thumb to rub against your jaw.

“i don’t mind,” you responded, “it feels good when it’s too much,” attempting to hide your humiliation for requesting him to continue.

heeseung’s lips curled up, and he turned his head to cover his smug expression. he readjusted, and spread your legs.

“yeah? you wanna cry for me, then?” his tone shifted, “wanna sob on my dick when you can’t take it anymore?”

your hands found their way to your head immediately, concealing your face. he didn’t typically fuck you in missionary, so having him above you, right above you, felt like you were on display. it was impossible to look him in the eye as he spoke to you in such a way, but he didn’t care. he enveloped your hands with his and pinned them each beside your head.

“missionary? why?” you somehow managed to ask, stumbling over your words as you looked to the side, avoiding his gaze.

he exhaled.

“i wanna see you,” he replied before entering you once again, “you look so fucking pretty when you cry.”

jay is usually pretty gentle during sex, unless you make an effort to let him know that you wanted him to be rougher than usual. he has absolutely no problem with that, since he’s actually been hoping you’d offer. he’s respectful, too respectful, which makes you want a taste of something more harsh. luckily for you, he can be a mean dom.

when it actually came down to it though, he was more intense than you had in mind.

“sit down,” he ordered. you did.

he placed his thumb and pointer finger between your chin, and tugged lightly to open your mouth. you allowed him, parting your lips more.

he unbuckled his belt mere inches away from your face, letting his pants fall and his clothed bulge stare back at you.

once he uncovered his cock, he didn’t even begin to warm you up before entering your mouth almost entirely. you let out a small whimper at his size, and he grabbed a fistful of your hair in response.

he started to rock his hips back and forth, moans falling out of his mouth as he fucked yours. jay had never made you suck him off in such a way, so quickly filling your throat and making you gag.

before tonight, he’d often brush stray hairs from your flushed face as he guided you to lick his tip and downwards, slowly easing up to gently permit you to suck him off at your pace. he’d release small groans as you did.

“fuck, doing so good, baby,” he’d say, with a smile as he looked down at you.

now, though, he had your hair gripped as he smacked his cock to the back of your throat. he barely gave you air to breathe in as he relentlessly fucked your throat, forcing you to rely on just your nose to inhale.

you looked up to him with watering eyes from the intensity, clawing your fingernails into the sheets that rested below you to release tension.

it’s not that you didn’t enjoy it, quite the opposite, actually. but he was so harsh, so fucking ruthless and it made your throat burn. taking him into your mouth at all was a struggle due to his size, and here he was, forcing you to take it. honestly, it was all you ever wanted from him and more, but you couldn’t help the tears falling from his rough his cock felt hitting your throat.

jay removed himself, and placed a hand on your cheek, tilting your head up to him.

“too much? do you need me to stop?” he asked, sweat dripping from his dark hair. his chest rose and fell expeditiously with his hurried breaths.

“no, jay,” you mumbled, voice sounding a little more desperate than you anticipated, “keep going, please. make me cry.”

it didn’t give him a second thought before he parted your jaw and fucked into you once again, keeping his grip on your hair tightened, fixing your head into place so that he could look at you.

tears fell and you sniffled, looking up at him with sparkling eyes, and he took his thumb to rub the droplets away.

“so fucking pretty,” he muttered, “such a good girl, crying on my dick.”

fucking jake is exciting. he’s always up for trying new things, which includes rough sex. however, he was always worried of hurting you, despite your pleas for him to bite and mark you. he had convinced himself that he would simply be too much for you, not realizing that’s exactly what you wanted to happen. you wanted him to completely lose control, lost in the way he fucked himself into you.

concerned, he’d constantly check in with you during his attempts to be rough. it’s not that he didn’t want to fuck you, marking you as his in the process, but it was all so new. what if you felt too hurt?

“fuck,” he’d groan under his breath, starting to pick up the pace unknowingly, thrusting his hips into you. when he realized, though…

“shit, sorry,” jake would say, slowing down to a more gentle speed.

you never minded. he’s just shy, you thought.

jake was absolutely not shy. he’d spit into his palm and fuck his hand, murmuring your name when you weren’t around. he’d look at innocent pictures of you, smiling and posing, wondering how you’d look with mascara running down your pretty cheeks. he’d stare at your exposed skin in your off-the-shoulder top and hold back biting your skin until it became red, his teeth creating crevices and marks. he’d watch as you make a cup of coffee in the kitchen, quietly fantasizing about bending you over the counter.

tonight, as you laid beneath him in missionary position, he connected his lips with yours as he adjusted inside you.

“so tight,” he muttered, biting his lip unconsciously as his hands rested on each side of your body.

he felt his hips jerk into you like usual, stopping himself before going further, his eyes fixated on the curves of your body. he wanted more of you.

you let out a moan at him going deeper, but as always, he continued agonizingly slow. he was shy, you thought, but you knew he wanted to be deeper inside you. you knew he wanted more.

“jake,” you whimpered out, eyes gazing upwards to meet his.

“sorry, i know,” he quickly apologized before you could continue, “i’ll be gentle.”

“don’t,” you protested, desperation evident in your voice that you failed at covering, “please, be rough with me.”

with that, jake’s eyes lit up a little, “hm?”

“i don’t want you to be gentle. i want you harder,” you explained, moans getting caught in your words as he was still inside you, “please jake.”

he didn’t respond, but he dipped his head towards your shoulder, taking your skin in between and bit, exactly how he imagined before. he let out a groan, feeling you against his teeth, before fucking into you as deep as he could.

your back arched subconsciously, nails digging into his back as you whined out, tears already piercing into your eyes at his size.

“this is what you wanted, yeah?” he asked, voice raspy due to his low tone. his mouth traveled to your neck as he decided to leave his mark there, too.

“yes, jake,” you struggled to speak, “fuck.”

at your strained voice, his head adjusted so that he could look down at you. your face twisted into an expression he hadn’t quite seen you make before, eyes shut closed and mouth wide agape. he began to pound you, repeatedly now, your tears now beginning to fall.

he picked up the pace at that, aroused by how your mascara smeared. it was better than he imagined, and he resisted cumming inside you right then and there.

“you okay?” jake said, having to make sure, although knowing it was likely exactly what you wanted.

“yes,” you replied in a breathy whimper. his hand met your throat and he tightened his grip slightly, choking you a bit, but not to the point of harming you.

“good,“ he replied, “taking me so fucking well. my pretty slut.”

[chuulyssa]

🇨​​ 🇴 ​​🇳 ​​🇫​​ 🇪 ​​🇸​​ 🇸 ​​🇮 ​​🇴 ​​🇳​ ！

BSD MEN REACTING TO A CONFESSION.

↷ A/N ─ yes new divider again because im indecisive as heck

★ FT. ─ dazai , chuuya , ranpo , akutagawa , atsushi , fyodor

!! TAGS ─ mentions of suicide, insecurities, overall fluff

"i love you."

ᴅᴀᴢᴀɪ.

promptly replies with, "i love you too."

he'll lean into you with an amused smile because he lowkey thinks you're joking

when he realizes you're serious about it he'll immediately stop the stupid grin

and look at you with this sincere look you've never seen on his face before

he'll hold your hand and everything while repeating "i love you too," for a second time, only this time he's serious about it too

definitely asks for double suicide later

"You know it's my motto to unalive myself with a beautiful woman. How lucky of you to have been bestowed upon this honour."

"Mhm."

"I'll say yes if you join me in a double suicide," he asks with puppy eyes.

"Dazai, you already said yes."

"I'll say it again!"

​ᴄʜᴜᴜʏᴀ.

he stops abruptly and half chokes on his expensive ass wine

poor boy is really confused 😭 because "where did that come from??"

he tries to play it cool but he's literally SCREAMING inside

we all know he's been betrayed a lot of times in the past so he feels hesitant about it

will decide to give it a shot tho

100% calls dazai to brag about it

"You may be taller or whatever (as if that matters in the first place) but were you the one able to steal her heart? Eh? I think not!"

You chuckle hearing him update his rival of his new relationship status.

"And anyway," he raises a glass of wine for toast. "I'd like to thank my good looks, good looks and did I mention my good looks (?) for making tonight the happiest night ever."

ʀᴀɴᴘᴏ.

"i know."

he has always observed every single thing about you - how you behave around others vs how you behave around him, the little times you look at him like you want his attention etc etc

he's known about this since like soooo long

he defo also knew when where and how you were gonna confess

went to yosano for tips to react to it and bought you chocolates and stuff. he thinks it'll make you happy :D

eats all of that himself even tho he originally bought it for you but you let it slide because he's a cutie patootie

"You could at least have been a bit subtle about it," he says, munching on his chips. "I mean, anyone who saw you would've been able to guess. I didn't even need my ability for this!"

He lifts his chin up thoughtfully, fingers ripping open another packet of snacks. "You should be grateful I'm not a snitch. Eh, well," he shrugs, "You're now dating the greatest detective in the world! Congratulations!"

ᴀᴋᴜᴛᴀɢᴀᴡᴀ.

"eh???"

like chuuya, he's pretty confused too

"are you sure?"

tries to keep a straight face and hide his fluster

he'll narrow his eyes at you as if he's trying to read your emotions. he doesn't wanna get hurt if he gets too attached to you and you two end up breaking up

also how tf is he supposed to believe that someone like YOU like someone like HIM?

reassure him that he's perfect please :( poor baby deserves the world

"I am a lot of work. I don't think you can keep up with all of that," he says shortly.

"I'll try my best."

"You don't have to."

"But I want to!"

He stares at you for a few moments, looking like he's about to cry.

"Oh, alright then," he waves a hand around. "But don't you ever leave me."

ᴀᴛꜱᴜꜱʜɪ.

screams

"SAY IT AGAIN PLEASE!"

jumps around everywhere in happiness

you dont even get a verbal answer the man's just dancing around

either that or he just faints

he's, like akutagawa, insecure about himself. but he's much more open to showing his emotions to you.

you end up cuddling the whole night or he calls off work to be with you for the rest of the day <3

"I..." he repeats the same word for the fifth time in a row.

"Yes?"

"Don't mind me, I'm just trying to come to terms with the fact that I get to date you."

"Is that a bad thing?"

"No, no!" he panics, wringing both hands all over himself hastily. "I love you! Really!"

ꜰʏᴏᴅᴏʀ.

no reaction. im sorry

spares a small glance at you but otherwise doesn't get distracted from his work

you think he's gone deaf from the way he just ignored you cuz what????

will spend like 15 minutes that way before extending an arm to you and you lowkey DONT KNOW WHAT TO DO??? HELP??

he'll stare at you for a few seconds before pulling you onto his lap and continuing with his work

and that's his way of saying yes

He shuts the computers around him down and taps your outer thigh twice. You immediately stand up and help him up. He stares at you for a few seconds, contemplating something.

"You know, I never thought I'd enable others to call me a lovesick fool."

"Does that mean you are a lovesick fool?"

"A little, maybe," he turns around and walks out of the door while you follow him with a soft smile on your face.

© chuulyssa 2024 - do not copy, plagiarize or repost my works on any platforms. do not translate.