#leather sofa suite
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leathergallery · 2 months ago
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Our Black Friday Sale is now on!
Now’s the time to SAVE on selected luxury home furniture—from recliner sofas and leather sofa suites to fabric sofa suites, bedroom furniture, dining room sets, coffee tables, and more.
Don’t miss these exclusive deals to elevate every room with timeless style. Shop now and transform your home with exceptional savings!
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readrtheme · 1 year ago
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Transitional Family Room Large, open-concept game room with medium-tone wood flooring and green walls, as well as a traditional fireplace, a stone fireplace, and a wall-mounted television.
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peachylynnie · 2 months ago
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the cat butler
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word count: 2.4k synopsis: in which sylus is eager to please you, as always. but this time, as a cat butler. contains: sylus x mc!reader (they're not dating, but sylus is down bad), references to the cat butler trailer, sylus with cat ears and a tail, suggestive themes, mentions of alcohol, cussing, making out, and stalking(?). a/n: i wrote this after reading somewhere that the upcoming memory might be our first-ever kiss with sylus. so consider this a prediction of some sort (probably not gonna happen). also, sylus' cat ears suit him so well. do not plagiarize or copy my work. sylus would not endorse plagiarism. enjoy!
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“my lady,” a rich yet sultry voice calls. you shift uncomfortably in your sleep, wanting to rest a bit more.  
“my lady,” the voice repeats firmly. still, you dismiss it by grumbling and refusing to open your eyes. 
“my lady.” huh, that's weird. why does that voice sound like…
“my lady.” sylus?!  you burst open your eyes upon recognizing who was calling you. though, not without a startled "oh, god" because sylus was mere inches from your face.  
immediately, you sit up, rubbing your eyes and trying to process what was happening. where were you? how long were you out for? and most importantly, why was sylus calling you "my lady?" not that you had any problem with it, but still. your eyes widen as you find yourself on a velvet sofa in a sleek lounge of some sort. extending your arms in front of you, you stare dumbfoundedly at the tight leather gloves enveloping your hands. confusedly, you look down as you pat your body. a silky red, a-line dress hugged your figure, and you couldn’t help but admire the strings of shimmering pearls that hung around your waist and neck.  
hoping for answers on how you got here and why you were dressed so nicely, you turn to look at sylus, who was kneeling on the ground next to the sofa to meet you at your eye level. you can’t stop the gasp that leaves your mouth. are those cat ears?!
nevermind the fact that sylus was dressed in a neat, scarlet tuxedo that matched the shade of your dress. nevermind the fact that he looked good in a tie—so good to the point you wanted to tug on it. nevermind the fact that he was wearing a clean pair of white gloves that outlined his fingers so nicely. what was with the cat ears?! and a tail, too?! 
"uhm" you start. "what’s with the…?" you point at his head, hoping that he would understand. you couldn’t care less about formulating proper sentences. right now, you wanted answers. where were you? why were you dressed so nicely? why the fuck is sylus wearing cat ears and a tail? and why did the caracal set suit him so well? 
sylus' crimson eyes move up cutely as if he was trying to see the ears for himself. then, they fall back down to you, but not without a chuckle. "they're cat ears, my lady," he answers teasingly. "isn't it obvious?" with that, the ears twitch excitedly. yup, you saw that right. they actually twitched. 
"holy shit," you mutter as you reach to stroke the ears. "can i?" 
sylus smirks as he gives you a single nod, closing his eyes to convey that you are more than welcome to touch him.  
the ears felt incredibly real. the fur was super soft, and you could feel the skin vibrating beneath your fingers. your eyes widen as you pinch the ears gently. they didn't just feel real. they are real. the sheer warmth you felt from touching the exposed skin in the ears told you so. fascinated, you move your fingers to the back of one of the ears to scratch at the fur. sylus purrs and leans into your scratches. you can’t help but giggle at the sight. "who's the kitten now, sylus?" you jest, lifting your free hand to scratch his other ear, causing the man to part his mouth and rest his head against your knee. fuck, your touches felt so good.  
wanting to get actual answers from him, you stop scratching and let your hands rest on your lap. before you can even speak, sylus hisses at the loss of your touch, his brows knitting and a scowl growing on his lips. he grabs both your hands and places them back on his ears. understanding his message, you continue your ministrations, trying to remember certain spots that cats tend to like. 
"as much as these ears suit you," you coo. "this is really weird. want to tell me what's going on, sylus?" you don't remember him contacting you for a new mission where cat props and formal wear would be involved. heck, you don't remember how you even got here. what exactly was going on?  
sylus sighs and raises his head back up before answering, "you purchased me, my lady." his amused gaze meets your bewildered one. “we signed a contract where i would be your cat butler as of today. perhaps you forgot because as soon as you signed the contract, you drank excessively from the bar over there," he juts his head towards the bar behind you. "then, you passed out." 
what in the actual fuck? did he say purchase? what contract? you don’t remember signing any contracts. and since when did you ever drink? no, this can’t be right. you don't even recall coming to this fancy place. let alone dressing up so nicely.  
"you're lying," you nervously say. "there's no one working at the bar, and i don't see any glasses either." for a moment, a look of pride flashes on sylus' face. you always were so observant. one of the many things he loved about you. if only you were more observant of his affection for you instead of being so oblivious all the time. "besides, what's with our outfits? i don't remember putting this on. let alone coming here..." 
sylus laughs endearingly. his signature, billionaire laugh that constantly stirs up butterflies within you. "trust me, my lady, you drank," he insists, grasping your wrist and pressing a fond kiss. flustered by his actions, you try to pull back, but sylus' grasp remains strong. his sharp gaze locks with yours as he continues. "the dress code here is formal. thus, our attire. you walked in looking like this. a wonderful choice, i must say. you look ravishing, and i am honored to have been sold to you because..." sylus leans in next to your face, his hot breath fanning your sensitive ears. "i wouldn't have anyone else as my master."  
you stand up immediately, uncontrollably blinking and blushing from what you just heard. unfortunately, you don’t realize that you are wearing heels, causing you to stumble backward. sylus swiftly stands up, pulling you to him with an arm around your waist, effectively and attractively saving you from your fall. you place both hands on his broad shoulders, trying to balance yourself and catch your breath. noticing that the two of you were basically conjoined by the groin, you avert your eyes away from him.  
"t-thanks," you stammer as you try to get some space by pushing at his shoulders. "you can let go of me now."  
sylus tilts his head, looking down at you mischievously and trying to meet your avoidant gaze. "is that a command, my lady?"  
puzzled by his question, you finally meet his eyes. sylus sighs a hum of satisfaction, relishing in your eye contact with him. "what do you mean command?" you ask. you were too occupied by sylus’ accusations of you drinking to fully capture his previous answers.  
"it's part of the contract you paid for. i am to obey your every command as your one and only cat butler." the man answers eagerly, as if what he had just said was completely normal. almost as if he was enjoying this.  
you blink once. then twice before asking, "i paid for this?" you did not like where this was going.  
"indeed, my lady. five million dollars to be exact. i am quite the expensive cat butler," sylus grins. normally, you would've found his grin cute. some fangs would peek out, and a slight dimple would show. moreover, he was wearing cat ears. which only added to his playful demeanor. but right now, you were mortified because FIVE MILLION DOLLARS?! WHERE DID YOU EVEN GET THAT MUCH MONEY?!
"what?!" you struggle against his embrace. "what do you mean five million dollars? not even a rare protocore is worth that much!" you panic as you think about your savings. did you seriously spend all your savings on a cat butler contract and put yourself into years’ worth of debt? oh god, if so, you were fucked. say goodbye to all your years of hard work and saving. 
sylus frowns at your last statement. "are you not satisfied, my lady?"
with your jaw dropped, you look at the man towering over you as if he had said something, for lack of a better term, dumb. which he technically did because who would be satisfied after spending five million dollars on a cat butler contract?! (me). "yes?!” you say incredulously. “who in this situation would be satisfied?! you just told me that i blew all my savings and probably even more for a stupid contract!" 
sylus sighs, pinching his nose bridge with his free hand. while it was one thing to have something related to him get called stupid, it was another to see you so rattled. he had to ease your mind, knowing it would spiral if he didn't act soon. "now, now my lady. there is nothing stupid about this contract. you'd be surprised by the numerous benefits that come with it. which are but not limited to me obeying your every command." 
you don’t know which is worse. the head of onychinus telling you that you spent a sickening amount of money just to see him in a suit with cat features. or the head of onychinus telling you that you were actually benefiting from spending a sickening amount of money just to see him in a suit with cat features. as much as the idea of sylus following orders sounded like heaven, being broke in a matter of who knows how long, or in this case, little, and for a stupid reason at that, was not great. not great at all. your gaze shifts rapidly, distracted with coming up with a solution. "are there any refunds by chance?" you ask meekly. 
a dangerous look passes over sylus’ crimson eyes. with no ill intent, of course. he could never harbor any feelings of malice towards you. but the idea of you wanting a refund bothered him greatly. he was not going to let you get rid of him so easily. his arm around your waist tightens, bringing you even closer to him. lifting his free hand, sylus curls a finger under your chin, tilting your face upwards to meet his burning gaze. you shiver, forced to drown in his deep pools of rubies. feeling a rush of pleasure from finally having your attention on him, sylus moves his hand from your chin and reaches behind you to caress the blade of your shoulder. you can't help but shudder at the sudden intimacy. why did this dress have to expose your back? 
"even if my services were terrible," sylus doesn't cease his feather-like touches on your back, causing you to twitch and pant from sensitivity. "there are no refunds," he rasps as he traces a finger down your spine, prompting a whimper from you. enjoying the small yet addictive noises that leave your pretty lips, sylus smirks. yes, this was how it was supposed to be. you, in his embrace where only he could make you feel good and only he could hear your sweet, sweet sounds.  
"sylus..." you try your best not to moan. "s-stop it." you hide your face in sylus' chest, wanting to muffle your sounds and smother your embarrassment away. "i-i got it. no refunds."  
liking what he hears, sylus ceases his ministrations. he brings his hand back to your chin, gently pulling you away from his chest and slowly tilting your face so that you meet his gaze once more. "i'm glad you understand, my lady," sylus closes in on you, his lips millimeters apart from yours. "you won't be returning me anytime soon."  
sylus smashes his lips against yours, earning a moan from you. with the hand that was on your chin now cupping your face and the arm that was around your waist tightening some more, the two of you fall back onto the velvet couch. you gasp at the impact, causing sylus to slide his tongue in, capturing your own in a heated dance that he seemed intent on leading. you shakily wrap your arms around sylus' neck, trying to keep up with his relentless kisses. out of the corner of your eye, you see sylus' tail desperately swaying left and right. an idea flashes in your head. as sylus continues to swirl his tongue in your mouth, you raise your hand from his neck and gently tug at one of his cat ears. sylus jerks violently, mewling filthily into your mouth. taking that as a sign of encouragement, you continue playing with his ear, causing him to lose himself more and more in your lips, your scent, your everything. 
when the two of you grow in need of breaths, sylus pulls away, panting the same rhythm as you. you had no idea how gorgeous you looked right now. splayed out underneath him in tempting attire that was of his signature color. hair disheveled, cheeks rosy, lips swollen, eyes teary—god, you were going to be the death of him. tenderly moving a stray hair out of your face, the silver-haired man speaks.  
"so, what is your first command, my lady?"
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extra:
you inhale sharply as you jolt out of bed. what the fuck was that?  you breathe rapidly as you take in your surroundings. sighing a breath of relief, you find yourself back in your room and your comfy pajamas. tiredly rubbing a hand over your face, you start to agonize over the fact that you dreamt about making out with sylus. not only that, you dreamt about making out with him in cat ears. why? you're not sure what this says about you as a person, let alone your growing attraction to him. did you have a thing for pet pla—you don't let yourself finish that last thought. ruffling your hair in frustration, you fall back onto your pillow, determined to recover from that dream. you decide that you are going to avoid sylus for a few days. 
shifting into a comfortable position, you shut your eyes and wait for sleep to find you, causing you to miss the mechanical crow with glowing red eyes flying away from your window and into the night. sylus, viewing the surveillance screen back at his grand residence, tilts his head in curiosity, a subtle smirk appearing on his lips.
 "what did you dream about, kitten?"
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kjupchurch-xx · 5 months ago
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Conflicting Feelings
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Author's Note: Let me start this by saying I mean absolutely zero disrespect to Hugh's ex wife with this story. I'm just coming up with ideas for chapters and trying to be creative, so please do not hate me for the story. I got this inspiration from a song I'd been listening to, so once again, no disrespect meant for his previous marriage or his ex-wife. This story is pure fiction and just meant to satisfy your need for Hugh Jackman fluff. 
Hugh and I have been friends for many years, despite our age gap of 20+ years. He was married to Debbora Furness and had been for the past 27 years. Our friendship was a platonic one, but we'd always had this strange chemistry. Hugh has been extremely loyal to Deb over the course of their marriage, despite his flirtatious nature. I'd love to tell you that I didn't have a thing for him, but I'd be lying to you. With that being said, I respect his marriage and I know my boundaries, which I'd never cross. 
I was sitting in my hotel room in California, it was coming up on 7pm, the sun starting to slowly sink down producing a beautiful cotton candy sky that could be seen from my suite's balcony that overlooked the city. I was getting ready for a date with a musician, who shall remain unnamed. I heard my phone ring from across the room, walking over and picking it up, expecting it to be my date, I noticed it was Hugh. 
"Hey Hugh, I can't-" I began but was immediately cut off by him sounding frantic, "I really need you right now." He said with a shaky, almost hoarse voice. 
My voice grew concerned, "Is everything okay?"
"Just send me your room number and the name of the hotel. We'll talk there." He said quickly before hanging up. 
What in the actual hell is going on? Did someone die? Is it cancer? I mean what is going on? A thousand thoughts raced through my mind as I quickly typed out my suite number and hotel into a text and sent it to him. Within minutes I heard a knock on my suite door. I ran up, opening the door to see a disheveled looking Hugh Jackman looking frantic. I quickly pulled him inside my room and he pulled me into a hug. I stood before him frozen in place, slowly wrapping my arms around him. 
"What's going on? Are you okay? Are Oscar and Ava okay? Is Deb-" I began to hit him with rapid fire questions trying to understand what's causing this kind of emotion from the man I'd known to always be so happy, go lucky. He cut me off, "She's gone. Deb's gone." He said, his voice trembling. 
I gasped in shock as my eyes widened, "What? What happened?" I asked, rubbing his back, leading him to the tan leather love seat that sat in the living room area of the suite. I'd never seen him this emotional outside of his acting. 
As we sat on the sofa, he continued holding me as if I were his security blanket. I repeated, "What happened?" causing him to look up at me with broken eyes. 
He covered his face, "She told me she wanted a divorce. She's moving her stuff out of the house and wants to be gone before I get back." I bit my bottom lip in disbelief, "Did she say why?" I asked trying to process what I was being told. 
He took a shaky breath before looking at me, "She says we've fallen out of love and are two different people now that 27 years have gone by. She says we want two entirely different things out of life." 
I shrugged, placing my hand on his knee. "Is she wrong?" I asked softly, looking at him, continuing to tremble with each word he spoke. 
He sighed, running his hand through his messy hair, "She's not wrong." 
I blinked, looking at him, taken back by his response, "What do you mean she's not wrong? What did you do?" 
He took a deep breath and began looking down, refusing to look me in the eyes and began shaking his head. I grabbed his hand, caressing it softly, "What happened, babe? You know I won't judge you. You know after years of confiding in me that you can tell me anything." 
He nodded, wiping a tear from his eyes, still shaking his head as if he were trying to process his own thoughts. He was being extremely cautious with his words. The sound of my phone ringing caused me to almost jump out of my skin. It had to be the guy I was supposed to be meeting tonight. I quickly grabbed my phone, silencing the call and put my attention back on the man that was sitting in front of me. 
He finally looked up at me, "Being married for as long as we were is hard work after awhile, especially when your world stops due to a pandemic and you're forced to actually face the problems in your marriage instead of being away for weeks or months at a time and being able to avoid them." I nodded, allowing him to continue, watching nervously grit his teeth, "I fucked up. I let my emotions get the best of me and instead of envisioning her, I began envisioning someone else. I knew it was wrong, so I stopped and began focusing all of my attention on Deb." 
I looked at him, "Okay, well I mean...That happens. You didn't physically do anything, did you?" I asked, furrowing my brows. 
He shook his head, "No, I didn't. But she knew something was up with me. And now, I can't keep running from it. Deb is a great person, she truly is. But this other person, it's like whenever I'm with them, life suddenly just...makes sense again." He said lowly while staring off into space as if actually saying the words caused him too much pain to admit. 
My phone began ringing again, I quickly grabbed it and answered, "Hey, look I'm sorry. I just had an emergency come up and I'm not going to be able to make it. I hope you understand." I said quickly, Hugh gave me a questioning look, and I knew he was curious as to who I was speaking to or who I had plans with. 
My date was disappointed to say the least, but he understood, so I took that as a chance to end the call. Hugh looked at me, "I shouldn't be here bothering you with this. Go on with your plans."  He sniffled, wiping his face with his head and standing up. 
I grabbed his hand, rolling my eyes, pulling him back down on the sofa, "No, it's okay. So things make more sense when you're with this person?" I asked, he looked at me nodding, but not speaking. "Does she feel the same way?" I asked. 
He shrugged, refusing to keep eye contact with me again, "I don't know if she does or doesn't. But I've been in a marriage that's lacked intimacy and has been more of a friendship arrangement for the past two years. This was not something I planned. I would never cheat on Deb, I just couldn't handle the charade anymore and I'm guessing she felt the same way."  
I wasn't exactly sure what to say anymore as I gazed at him allowing him to continue venting, "I just know that whenever I'm with this person, we can be in a room full of people and it's like they're not there. She makes me feel things that I haven't felt in the longest fucking time." 
I threw my hands up, "Go tell her then. If that's how you feel for this person, go talk to her. Hugh, you are an amazing man. What happened is unfortunate but people grow apart sometimes and there's nothing that can be done about it. You need to go tell this person how you feel." I said softly, giving him a small smile. "So who is it anyways? Is it the girl you're on broad way with? The one the rumor was about? Wasn't her name Sarah or something?" 
"Are you referring to Sutton?" He asked, looking at his hands. 
I nodded, "Yeah, that's her name. Sutton. Is it her?" 
He sat silent for a good two minutes, staring at his hands. There had been articles going around for months about him and his Music Man co-star, Sutton Foster having an affair. I honestly wouldn't be surprised at this point. I knew the effect the pandemic had on his marriage. He tells me literally everything and I've always been there as an ear or eyes for his texts regarding the issues he and Deb dealt with. 
After two minutes of complete silence, he spoke, looking at me, "I have something to tell you." 
I looked up at him with soft eyes, his hazel ones piercing through my soul, "It's Sutton, isn't it?" I asked knowingly. 
He slowly shook his head, "It's not Sutton and no, I didn't have an affair with Sutton." He simply said. 
I chuckled, "Okay, so who is it? It's not Zendaya, is it?" I asked, cringing at the thought of he and Zendaya together. Nothing against Zen, we're friends. But she also knows about the crush I have on my dear friend. 
He looked at cringing himself, "What? No. She's like a daughter to me." He said with a chuckle, "It's you." He said lowly. 
I took a deep breath, "It's me?" 
He looked down at the floor again, "Yeah." He was being short, as if he himself were in disbelief.
I furrowed my brows, "Why?" I asked, shaking my head in disbelief of what I was hearing.  
His voice began trembling again as he reached for my hand, interlocking it with his own, "Do you remember when my father died?" He asked, I nodded, "I rang you, and you jumped on a plane to come see me. You spent days going over my lines for The Son with me. That was when I realized it. I rang Deb first. All she could say was that she was sorry. But you, you booked a flight and flew across the world for me. I was in hysterics and you comforted me each time." I took another breath, remembering what had taken place when Hugh's dad passed away on Australia's Father's Day in 2021. 
"I swear to you, I tried. When I got back home, I tried to make those thoughts go away. That's why I distanced myself from you that following year. No matter what I did, no matter what she did, all I could see was you." He spoke honestly, tilting his head slightly, a hitch in his breathing as he continued to look at me, begging me to say anything. 
"I fell in love with you, but I didn't want you to know. I didn't want Deb to know. I didn't want anyone to know, so I tried my fucking bloody damnest to push it out of my head and it only made it more apparent. And I don't know if you feel the same w-" I couldn't take hearing him speak anymore, overwhelmed with emotion, I tightened the grip he had on my hand with my own and sent my lips crashing against his stopping him in his tracks. 
He brought his other hand up, grabbing my chin softly as his brain registered what was happening and began slowly moving his lips against mine. Pulling away, but pressing my forehead against his, as we both kept our eyes shut, I spoke, "I love you." barely above a whisper. I slowly opened my eyes to see his eyes staring into my own, our foreheads still pressed together, "But I didn't want this to happen like this."
I sighed, pulling away, "I don't want to be the reason your marriage ends. I'm not a home wrecker. I've loved you for years, why do you think I flew across the country when your father died and you called me hysterical? But I respect you, I respect Deb and I respect your marriage."
He looked at me, "My marriage ended two years ago. You're not a homewrecker and you did not cause this. Deb and I knew this was coming since the shut down over COVID. We didn't want to divorce for the sake of our children. We've just both gotten to the point where we want different things out of life and have decided for the sake of our happiness to end things. I'm heartbroken because I genuinely do love her as a person, and I did not want things to go the way they have.  But her and I have to find our own happiness and we've realized it wasn't with each other anymore." 
He brushed a strand of hair behind my ear, "It's you. For the last two years, it's been you and you didn't even know it. You did nothing wrong, love."
I sat in silence. I'd worked so hard over the years to keep my feelings to myself and to never cross a boundary. But whenever he called me in tears over his father, I couldn't help myself but to want to be there for support. He needed it and was falling apart at the seams. I don't know why Deb didn't rush to his side. I don't know why all she could say was "Sorry, I'll see you when you get back to New York.". 
His eyes began pleading with me, as he slid off the sofa and onto the floor on his knees in front of me, still holding my hand, now grabbing my other one, "Please say something. Please." 
I swallowed the hard lump in my throat, exhaling the deep breath I had been holding, "Just hold me..." was all I could manage to say. 
He nodded, quickly sliding back to his position on the sofa, pulling my body into his chest, "Yeah?...I can do that." The feeling of his arms tightening around me as I sank my head into his chest. 
Where do we go from here?
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mrskokushibo · 6 months ago
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Wrong?
Muzan x fem!reader x Yoriichi
Warnings: Smut, rough sex, dub con, threesome, watching corn, very NSFW, 18+. Modern AU. 7k words.
Summary: Your boyfriend Muzan is a star, and you love being his girl. But the man has needs that you have been neglecting for a while. Tonight will start a chain of events that will have you asking yourself if sex and love in a relationship truly should be inseparable?
A/N: I loved creating this storyline. This is a request from a friend. The only thing she asked for was Muzan's girlfriend falling for Yoriichi. It's one of my favourite stories to write - I got to spread my creative wings.
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Masterlist
The club was full tonight, hosting the release party for a new book by one of the most prominent writers in the city. The venue was an old factory building, stylishly renovated with a mixture of white rendered walls, exposed brick, and steel structure, decorated with an eclectic and carefully curated selection of furniture ranging from sleek Scandinavian design armchairs to rococo sofas and chandeliers.
A place that quickly became a favourite with the cultural circles of the city. It was also the home of a popular nightclub on the weekends as well as the venue of choice for a society hosting slightly, well, different types of events, namely invitation-only orgies, that your boyfriend and subsequently yourself were always invited to, but had to decline due to your unwillingness to participate in anything like that.
Tonight’s event was the kind you gladly accompanied him to. As always on such occasions, your boyfriend Muzan Kibutsuji was one of the guests of honour. He was a young star writer, specialising in dark horror and fantasy, having sold over a million copies of his first novel at the tender age of twenty-three. Now, five years later and with another few million books sold, he was among the literary elites. He also had a background in acting, although there was a veil of mystery as to what type of movies, he was in.
You too were a writer and the two of you met at a seminar hosted by your favourite Japanese superstar novelist. Well, you would be lying to yourself if you thought you actually were a professional writer, more of an aspiring writer, really. Your studies and work took up most of your time, so the only writing you did was manga and anime fanfiction. Yes, you felt very inadequate at these parties, but you quickly adjusted to assuming the role of the supportive and devoted girlfriend of the literary star.
And tonight, was no different. You wore a brand new, figure-hugging little black dress and high-heeled thigh-high leather boots. Simple, but sexy. For the last half hour, you were standing idly sipping your champagne, while Muzan was involved in a heated debate with some older, seemingly unimpressed author and his artist friends. You were a little tipsy and were hugging Muzans arm all the while he was busy talking.
He was such a hottie, you thought, you saw the envious looks on the faces of his female colleagues every time he brought you with him to any event. Yes, you could consider yourself lucky. His looks were striking, as he was essentially an albino, meaning his eyes were red and his hair white and wavy, but he always coloured it black. The monochromatic colour combination together with his masculine yet defined and delicate features gave him an exotic and almost out-of-earthly aura. His muscular arms were covered with intricate black gothic tattoos (he had tattoos in other, more intimate places too) and he sported a tongue piercing. His style was a bit steampunk blended with hard rock, he looked good in suits and ripped jeans alike. And he stood almost six feet tall.
The boredom of just standing around was slowly leaving room for thoughts other than literature, you were getting a little horny, to be completely honest with yourself. You were into your third glass of champagne and were slightly tipsy, the ambient rhythmic music, warm dimmed lighting, and the buzz of people talking were putting you into a pleasant lull, making your senses pliable and receptive to new impressions.
Out of nowhere, you started to imagine what it would be like when an orgy is hosted here… the throaty moans and high-pitched squealing of female pleasure mixed with the deep raspy grunts of the men, loud screams of people climaxing and the wet, squelching pounding of flesh against flesh. You could picture naked bodies, bodies in provocative lingerie, illuminated and glossy in the warm light of the chandeliers. It is almost as if you now suddenly were curious about it…
And that is when you noticed him. That other man. He was standing in the middle of the room deep in a conversation with a group of young people. His appearance stood out in the crowd, he was very tall, probably well over six feet, maybe six feet three, with an athletic build. His hair was long and black, tied in a ponytail with cascades of shorter bangs framing his face. Red highlights illuminated his layered hair. He was dressed in tight black jeans and an equally tight black t-shirt, and was wearing long earrings with what looked like the rising sun. There was a strange red mark on his left temple, a birthmark maybe? You could not help it, but you found yourself staring at his bulging biceps every time he lifted his beer to his lips. You were amused with how boredom brought out such primitive instincts in you. You were interrupted by Muzan who nudged you gently,
‘Would you like another drink?’ 
‘Yes, please’ you replied.
He walked away to the bar while texting someone and smirking. He came back with drinks only to find a new group of colleagues taking his attention. So… you proceeded with your little dirty pastime. Suddenly, the man looked in your direction, a dark maroon gaze piercing straight through you. You froze, and at the same time, a familiar heat was starting to spread in your belly. Wetness was pooling between your legs and you were thanking yourself for wearing panties tonight.
He looked away again, but then his gaze was constantly seeking yours for the rest of the evening. When it was time for you and Muzan to leave, while walking past the group with the gorgeous object of your attention, he suddenly looked you up and down and gave you the most lust-filled gaze you could imagine. You were so stunned you kept on staring at him, your head turning back in his direction while you were leaving the room.
The ride home proceeded in awkward silence; you have never seen Muzan in such a strange mood. When you entered the penthouse, you slouched on the sofa and closed your eyes. You were a little tired from all the impressions, especially that specific one… You opened your eyes feeling the presence of your boyfriend. He was standing in front of you holding handcuffs. ‘Move to the armchair’ he commanded in a deep, raspy whisper, the way he almost hissed the words sent a chill down your spine. ‘What now?’ you thought puzzled.
‘I saw what you were doing all night. You were staring at that man like a shameless slut.’
His words were true, you were indeed staring, but so what, this came from the man who suggested attending orgies in the past.
Perplexed, you retaliated: ‘Am I not allowed to look at people anymore?’
‘Oh, my love, you were not just looking, you were eye-fucking him. Do you think I cannot tell the difference?’
You swallowed and obediently moved to the armchair.
He placed your arms on the rests and slowly cuffed each of them to the furniture. Then he picked up the remote and turned on the projector. What was instantaneously visualized on the screen went straight to your sex. It was a close-up of a man and a woman fucking, with loud, obscene moans serving as the soundtrack. The camera started slowly to move away from the copulating pair and the back of the male came into full view, intricate tattoos spreading over his back like a veil of black lace and long, wavy white hair snaking down his neck and shoulders while his hips were rhythmically moving back and forth to slam his dick into the woman. When the camera moved to show the front of him your heart nearly stopped, the red pupils staring intently at the woman he was railing, that face…. It was Muzan. So that was the acting career he was so mysterious about.
In the meantime, Muzan was in the kitchen part of the open-plan living space, texting someone. You were both completely silent while the sounds of sex were filling the space. A few moments later and a pair of now completely soaking wet panties, the doorbell rang. Muzan walked over to open it. His face was adorned with a mischievous smile as he glanced your way. What happened next was something you did not expect and that started an unstoppable chain of events.
The person Muzan let in the apartment was a woman, a petite blond with hair all the way down to her round ass, dressed in a sleeveless skin-tight latex dress, that showed off her large (most presumably) fake silicone breasts. A real little sex kitten. Muzan led her to the sofa and sat down spreading his legs so that she could kneel between them.
He parted her pouting pink lips with his index finger and slid it deep into her mouth while she released a throaty moan, he then pulled the finger out stroking her bottom lip, only to pump the finger back into her mouth even deeper this time while rotating it. His other hand slid down her dress off her breasts and started slowly caressing them, making her moan even harder. He was pinching her nipples, making her perfect little body arch in pleasure, and looking even hotter. All the while her small manicured hands were stroking his crotch and after her back arched from overstimulation, she unzipped his pants and gently pulled out his now fully erect, hard cock. She was stroking it gently and licking the sensitive tip.
Eventually, she sank her head down on the full length, stretching her shiny, pink lips, gagging a little, and continuing to bob her head up and down on his thick length. His dick was large, so that most of the time she was only getting half of it in her mouth with the rest of the shaft treated to a pumping motion by her delicate hands. He threw his head back; you could tell he was close. Her moans were getting louder too and a few moments later he grabbed her by her ponytail and the back of her head and shoved her down into his groin while bucking his hips upwards. The woman gagged heavily, the sound wet and sloppy. He climaxed.
Once he was finished, he let her head go and she slowly pulled away, gasping for air, with spit and cum connecting her mouth to his penis. She looked him in the eye with a submissive almost grateful look. He was still stroking her breasts, while she was licking up all the cum from her lips and sucking his cock clean. And then, just like that she adjusted her clothes, got up, threw him a little kiss, and walked out of the apartment. The porno on the screen was playing all the while this was happening adding to the already surreal and loaded atmosphere.
You were too stunned to even think, let alone say anything. ‘What the fuck did you just witness?’
Without a word Muzan got up from the sofa and walked up to you, his dick still hanging out of his pants. He knelt in front of you and put his hands on your soft thighs, slowly kneading them up towards your crotch. His hands were getting closer and closer to your wet lips and finally they reached your soaked g-string. Muzan started rubbing you through the wet fabric with two fingers.
‘Fuck you are wet. Such a whore you are, getting wet from watching other people fuck. You are a dirty little kitten, aren’t you?’
You were too ashamed to answer, ashamed that something so wrong and apparently hurtful aroused you. You should have been turning your head away, yelling at him, crying even. But all you did was watch… and get wet.
‘You see, my love, when people get jealous, they sometimes stop thinking, they do stupid things. Do you think, what I did was stupid? Hm? But, you know, I got jealous, very jealous. And when you have been such a prude with me for so long, never wanting to do the things I thought we should do and then go drooling after other men, what do you think I should have done?’ His voice was raspy and menacing, but also filled with lust.
Muzan’s fingers were now slowly spreading your labia and rubbing up and down between your slick-soaked folds. You were so wet, his actions created small squelching sounds. He added another finger and slowly worked his way into your dripping pussy, crooking a finger and pumping in with small circular movements that made your muscles clench around him. He then spread your labia and moved in to lick you between your legs. His was giving you long and slow, gentle licks all the way on the very inside of your labia, you could feel the metal of his tongue piercing leaving a streak of extra pressure and thus enhanced sensation on the thin strips of flesh it was touching.
Gradually, he started to increase the force with which he was working his tongue on you. Wherever the piercing pressed on your sensitive flesh, it was exerting extra pressure on your nerves. When he finally reached your clitoris and started circling around it and occasionally skilfully flicking his tongue so that the piercing would hit the sensitive nub, your thighs were sent into convulsions of pleasure. You were starting to edge, your climax so close yet his actions not decisive enough to grant you release. Your legs were shaking uncontrollably, while he was flicking his tongue over your clit while all the while pumping his fingers into your pussy. You were so close; you were drooling and tears started to form in your eyes.
‘Muzan, please let me come, I’m so close’ you were moaning and squealing and when you thought he was increasing his pace, he suddenly pulled away and started uncuffing you.
‘Go down on all four for me doll.’
 You did what he asked you to, as you were so greedy to come. You now had the porno in full view in front of you and there he was on the screen fucking two women now, one riding his face and the other his dick. Watching that made you so fucking aroused. It was wrong, but you could not help reacting to it in the way you did. You felt like an animal, driven only by instinct at this point.
Without a word, he spread your ass cheeks and aligned his hard tip at your entrance, and soon his thick girth was pumping in and out of your pussy, wet, sloppy, indecent sounds of the two of you fucking on top of the vulgar sounds coming from the porno were filling the otherwise so elegant and relaxing space of your shared apartment. He was thrusting so hard that with every move you were being sent forwards with so much force that eventually your whole upper body was flat on the soft rug with him pressing down your back with his hand. He increased the pressure, supporting himself almost fully on you, and leaned down to whisper in your ear.
‘I will now come inside you my little whore, I will breed you, because you are my very own whore, I bet you would like to carry my little brat, would you?’
With that he increased the pace and strength of his thrusts, you were clenching around him, desperate to come. His hips and lower abdomen were now pressed flush to your round soft ass and you could eventually feel his lower abs contract indicating his release. His orgasm must have been a big one as he growled while pushing himself in you and releasing a huge load of cum into your fluttering insides.
‘Fuck you were good, kitten. I will sleep so well now.’
He pulled out, stood up and grabbed the remote to turn off the movie, and left for the bathroom. You were left high and dry, or so you thought anyway…
When you entered the bedroom Muzan was seated in the chair lounge next to the lit fireplace and opposite of your shared bed, fully dressed sipping on a glass of single malt whisky. The flame was making his eyes look almost devilish.
‘Here you are. I think you do deserve to come after all, we do not want you to lose sleep, do we?’
There was something so menacing in his voice, something that was hitting all the submissive notes in your entire being.
‘Undress for me, doll’
Without hesitation, you started to take your clothes off.
‘All of it, now!’ He commanded.
You did as you were told.
‘Now. Lay down on the bed so I can see between your legs. Play with yourself for me, make yourself come.’
There was nothing else to do, but to obey and you already felt like you were in a trance, as if nothing of this was real. You laid down and started to flick your nipple and got your imagination ready, and the fantasy that was helping you get off involved the tall man from the party, your only invisible act of defiance against your boyfriend. You imagined him seated on a sofa at the party, with everyone watching while you came up to him and straddled him shamelessly. What followed made you move your hand down between your legs and masturbate. Your fingers were doing their skilled and experienced work and very soon you came. Your orgasm was intense, with waves of pleasure causing your body to arch and convulse, you released a small scream and when the waves of pleasure finally flowed away, you were just lying there, limp with soaking wet fingers and pussy. You licked your fingers dry and closed your eyes.
A harsh yank to your chin shook you out of your bliss. You opened your eyes and the only thing in your line of sight was Muzan’s cock.
‘Open your mouth for me now, sweetheart’
The gentle words were in such stark contrast to what he was about to do because as soon as you opened your mouth, he grabbed you by your neck and shoved himself fully into your mouth, making you gag. He stayed like this for a few seconds, savouring how deep inside your throat his dick was seated, and rotated his hips a little. Then he slowly pulled out, only to slam himself into you again, and again and again, until you were a gagging, drooling mess with tears and mascara running down your cheeks. He pulled out, drool connecting your mouth to his dick, and lifted your head up by yanking you up at your ponytail.
‘I think this is a good look for you, isn’t it, doll? My submissive little kitten, so sweet and obedient. ‘
He shoved himself in you again and this time kept on going until you could feel his muscles spasm and the warm, salty liquid filled your mouth and throat. He pumped into you a few extra times before pulling out. You swallowed most of the cum, but there was still some left on his cock.
‘Clean me up.’
You licked his dick clean and he lifted your head by the chin, so very gently now.
‘Hm, we will both sleep well after this, won’t we?’
And he placed the gentlest of kisses on your lips and went into the bathroom to clean himself up. You followed suit, but you knew you would most likely not sleep all too well, still trying to come to terms with what he has done in front of you with that woman, as well as trying to grasp how in the hell was it your fault. Was he really the jealous type?
The following day began with Muzan getting up and making you both coffees. He behaved as if last night did not happen, something that confused and infuriated you even more. Since it was your day off, you decided to head over to the gym to clear your head and hopefully figure out your next move. Both you and Muzan frequented the same gym in the neighbourhood, the gym was large, but with a relaxed atmosphere. There was also a martial arts dojo in conjunction with it that Muzan went to occasionally, but you never showed any interest in.
As soon as you entered the gym, you nearly froze in your steps. There, next to the reception desk was the man from the party, chatting casually with one of the personal trainers. You stalling in your movement caught his attention and he looked straight at you and waved. As if hypnotised you started slowly walking toward him and finally stopped in front of the man. He was so tall, you had to tilt your head up to look at his face.
‘Hi,’ you blurted out.
‘I didn’t know you went to this gym?’
You kept on rambling as if the two of you were already introduced. He looked at you with slight amusement.
‘Yes, I do, and I believe I saw you at the party last night, yes?’
‘Yes.’ You nodded like the idiot you were. For every minute feeling more and more awkward.
‘Well, I guess we should have a proper introduction then. My name is Yoriichi’. He stretched out his hand.
‘Y/n’ you said with overdriven courage as you placed your hand in his large one for a courteous handshake.
‘Excuse me, boss, can you please sign this?’ the two of you were interrupted by an employee of the gym coming up to Yoriichi with some papers. You looked at him and asked surprised.
‘Oh, you work here?’
‘Yes, actually I kind of happen to own the place’ he answered shyly, scratching his head and blushing a little.
While he was busy flipping through the pages you could not help yourself but eye him off discretely and what you saw was waking up the most basic instincts in you. He was wearing cotton tracksuit pants and a singlet in a thin functional material, that showed off his huge toned arms. The outline of his pecs and abs were visible through the thin fabric, you also noted he had powerful, strong thighs, as the fabric of the track pants was stretched at the thickest part of his thigh muscles. You could not help to throw a glance at his shapely glutes and strong hips. When you thought about it, he really had the appearance of some ancient warrior, a samurai maybe. You swallowed quietly, an action he caught you in the middle of.
‘Well, I am done here. I will be taking the rest of the afternoon off today, so I guess I will see you around sometime?’ He spoke.
You just could not let him disappear like this. You gathered your courage and asked
‘Would you have time for a quick coffee then? I changed my mind and will work out later today.’
He studied you for a moment and answered.
‘Why not, actually? I do have the whole day to myself. There is a good café nearby’
You nodded and the two of you started walking out of the gym, him courteously opening the door for you. Luckily, the café really was nearby. You were enjoying your coffee and the casual conversation, but when your fingers met when reaching out for napkins, the two of you went silent almost simultaneously. The truth was that all through the friendly, harmless exchange you were imagining fucking Yoriichi, riding his cock, and touching him in a way that was anything but just friendly. The look in his maroon eyes was starting to reveal something more as well now.
And maybe he could pick up on your feelings because the tension between the two of you was becoming palpable. You were soaking wet between your legs and your breathing was becoming heavy, your arousal was powerful: the contraction of the muscles of your vagina started to feel more and more like a rope being tightly twisted into a knot, and this sensation was now spreading up to your cervix making your insides feel like they were on fire.
He sucked in his lips before finally speaking up.
‘You know, I live just around the corner if you would like to have … some lunch with me.’
As if in a trance you answered
‘Yes, I would like that’
But you already knew what you really would like and sensed that this was something he would like as well…
As soon as you stepped into the elevator, he came closer to you and kissed your lips. Very lightly at first, but as soon as he felt you reciprocate the action, he drew you closer to him and the kiss became deeper, with tongues swirling deep in each other’s mouths. He was holding his hips away from yours for now, most likely due to an increasing hard-on, he was a gentleman after all, and did not want to impose that soon.
His hands were caressing your back and your body started tingling in pleasure. He was so big, you felt cradled and sheltered, and his warm smell was like a feast for your senses. The elevator reached his floor and he led you into his apartment. It was a bright and beautiful space, cradled in light from the large windows, decorated in oriental, presumably Japanese fashion, with tatamis, low large futon like sofas, beautiful prints of Sakura trees and diverse martial arts weaponry adorning the walls.
He closed the door behind him and swiftly had you up against the nearest wall. He lifted you by your buttocks and you wrapped your legs around his hips. All the while you were entangled in a passionate kiss. He lifted you up and started walking toward the bedroom. When he sat you down on the bed, you began to remove each other’s clothes. His body was even more magnificent naked, and the cock looked… huge. Almost uncomfortably huge.
Yoriichi started crawling on the bed and on top of you, his large body towering over you and making you gasp. His warmth, his smell, it was all so close to you and all you wanted was to drown in him, let him devour you and fuck you senseless. He lowered his hips so they were flush with yours between your legs and started rubbing your wet folds and clit. You were moaning in pleasure. With the other hand, he started massaging your breasts and playing with your hard nipples. You were arching your body and moaning shamelessly.
‘Please fuck me, I want to feel you inside me.’
He did not hesitate to fulfill your plea. Aligning the tip of his cock with the entrance to your sopping-wet pussy, he started to enter you.
He was big, almost too big for your small body to take. Slowly and steadily, he was prying his way into you. Every nerve in your core was pulsing, welcoming this new intruder with increasing wetness and spasming muscles. Your pussy was clenching on him so hard that he was quietly groaning while pushing on into you. He finally bottomed out and lifted himself off you slightly to meet your gaze. His gorgeous maroon eyes now clouded in pleasure, he said softly,
‘I will start moving now, do you feel ready?’
Did you ever… ‘Of course,’ was all you could say in a weak voice.
Slowly, at a languid pace, he began to rhythmically pump into you, his hips hitting yours every time he was bottoming out. You have never been this stretched out in your life, his girthy, long cock literally moulding your velvet walls to its shape, hitting your cervix with every slow pump. You were starting to edge, with the sensitive spots deep inside you being stimulated nearly constantly now. He kept on going like this for a while making your eyes roll to the back of your head and drool running down the side of your mouth.
‘Yoriichi, can you go a little faster? I am about to come’ you moaned out to him, as you could not control yourself any longer. The knot inside you running all the way from your opening to the tip of your cervix, was about to burst.
He picked up the pace and soon enough you were slowly dissolving into your climax, your whole body shaking and spasming from the intense pleasure you were gifted. You were so wet now, your cum seeping down your thighs onto Yoriichi. He shuffled himself up slightly and put you in a mating press. His cock was even deeper inside you, he started chasing his own release. His pace increased and soon it was ruthless and fast, abusing your cervix and every overstimulated spot deep inside you. You could feel his heavy balls slam into you with every powerful thrust. The man had the stamina of a god and went on in this unforgiving tempo for quite a while.
Gradually, his thrusts were getting sloppy and when he finally came, filling you up with his warm semen, he bottomed out deep inside you, his hips pushing you up toward the headrest of the bed and staying like this for a couple of seconds. He then pumped into you a few times, following the movement of his spasming abdomen muscles. When he stopped, he sank his head, still hovering over you supported on stretched-out straight arms. Sweat was running down his chest. He slowly rolled over on his back, taking you with him in an embrace that placed you laying down straight on top of him.
And that is when you noticed a presence in the room. You turned your head around towards the doorway and to your shock and surprise you saw your boyfriend stand there, leaning on the door frame with arms crossed and head tilted backwards in a brattish manner. His hair was out and cascading down his shoulder in black ringlets.
‘I hope I am not interrupting. Do you mind if I join in?’ He asked with a smirk. You instantly wondered how long he was there watching you and Yoriichi fucking.
‘Please do, unless y/n has some objections?’ Yoriichi said and tilted your head up to look at him. ‘Are you ok with this, y/n? ‘
‘I guess I don’t mind’ You did not really know what to say, your sex seemingly dictating your choices for you since last night.
‘Good, this will be fun.’ Muzan said and started to get undressed.
In the meantime, Yoriichi moved to his side and let you down on the soft mattress, so that you were on your side facing him. With an already erect dick bobbing in front of him, Muzan walked over to where you and Yoriichi were and crawled into bed to lie down behind you. He kissed and licked your neck, you could feel the metal of the piercing dragging on your soft skin, and grabbed one of your breasts, squeezing it gently, eliciting a quiet moan from your lips. He then leaned into your ear and with a deep, soft whisper asked:
‘How did you like him, doll? Was he big enough for you?’
He kept on kissing your neck and dragging the pierced tongue along it and massaging your body with his hand while pressing his erect cock in your soft ass. Yoriichi at the very same time started kissing your mouth and rubbing your breasts.
You did not think it was at this stage possible to get more aroused, but you did. Your pussy was aching so badly now, all you wanted was for the men to give it to you. Rough, fast however they wished to fuck you. You wanted to feel full, the craving growing for every minute making your insides burn with need. The sensation of both these attractive men being so close to you, their hands touching every part of your body, was making you feral, totally wild with anticipation. Seeing and feeling the athletic, tall, and big Yoriichi, with his smooth and glossy skin and your exotic-looking, tattoo-covered and pierced boyfriend so close to your own body was a sensation that was driving you crazy. It was almost as you were a goddess worshipped at the altar of lust.
‘How do you think we should proceed?’ Muzan asked Yoriichi in a playful tone.
‘Hmm, where we are is good, no offense, but I am the bigger one here, so I think it is best if you go in the backway’ Yoriichi answered.
Muzan sighed and smirked. ‘Good point, do you happen to have lube around here?’ Yoriichi stretched an arm behind him to reach under the bed and pulled out a bottle of anal lube.
‘You dirty fuck, this looks like you have been having some fun’ Muzan noted as the bottle was only half full.’ Yoriichi did not answer to that but his smile said it all.
While Yoriichi was working on your pussy and breasts, Muzan poured a fair bit of lube on your opening and started to massage your puckering hole. Slowly and gently, the sensation was so different from anything you ever experience before, but so delicious at the same time. He slowly pushed in a finger and was circling it gently. A second finger came in and he was scissoring them inside you. Yoriichi was now lining himself up to enter you again. His hard tip rubbing between your folds as Muzan added another finger and was whispering sweet, honey-glazed words in your ears in order to get you relaxed.
‘Be a good kitten for me now, such a gorgeous little obedient doll, I will spread that tight little ass for you and you will beg me for more’
The sweetness in his voice was almost demeaning. He kept on pumping his fingers in you, but you just could not relax.
‘Baby, I can’t do it. Not today. Can we do something else?’
Muzan pulled out his fingers out of you and nodded at Yoriichi
‘Well, doll, in such case you will have to take that huge dick of his down your throat, because I want to be in one of your holes, no matter what.’
You shifted to all four and Yoriichi knelt in front of you offering you his cock. You started licking the leaking tip and pumping the shaft with your small hand, barely getting a proper grip. In the meantime, Muzan positioned himself behind you and all of a sudden slammed his dick into you. This propelled you forward and you almost speared yourself on Yoriichi’s cock, swallowing nearly the entire length. He groaned from the sensation and you gagged heavily. Once the two of you adjusted positions so that you could comfortably work on his dick, Muzan started moving his hips into you again. You worked with the rhythm he was setting as there was no use trying to stay still and resisting his movement from pushing you forward. Every time his hips slammed into you, you sank your mouth over Yoriichi’s cock and you continued like this for a good while.
Your mouth and throat were stretched almost to the brink of discomfort from the huge girth and length. The pleasure you felt from Muzan repeatedly hitting your g-spot was making you moan louder and louder and your moans were sending vibrations through Yoriichi’s dick making it twitch and grow.
‘I’m going to come soon’ he groaned.
He pulled out of you, gave his cock a few pumps and unloaded the content of his balls in your face, warm cum spraying into your open mouth and down your chin and throat. Neither you nor Muzan were far off from your orgasms either. It took a few more fast thrusts from him to make your knot burst and you reaching your release. And a few more thrusts later and Muzan was spraying his cum into your still fluttering walls. The amount of pleasure you experience this afternoon was overwhelming and you collapsed exhausted, but utterly satisfied on the mattress.
Yoriichi got up and came back with a few towels. He helped you clean up your face and handed a towel to Muzan who then cleaned you and yourself up. Yoriichi was the first one to go to the bathroom and have a shower and after him, it was Muzan’s turn. Once the two men were decent again, Yoriichi informed you that they would prepare lunch so that you would have some time to yourself to recover and relax. You spent half an hour in the bedroom and went out to them, still in a complete state of confusion.
‘Hi there. I hope you are hungry.’ Yoriichi said.
‘I seem to have cooked too much pasta, but hey, we need the energy’ he grinned broadly. ‘By the way, I think you owe your lovely girlfriend an explanation’ he said turning to Muzan.
‘Yes, you are right. It is about time to clarify the situation. Sorry to have confused you and sorry for the bit with Amber, I might have gone a bit too far there. You know when I got up to get the drinks at the party? I noticed that you were eyeing off Yoriichi for a while, and out of the blue, and boredom, I came up with a wicked little plan. Something to shake you up and make you more, adventurous. I really wanted to get you out of your shell. So, I texted him quickly what I had in mind and off we went. I am storyteller, after all.’
You turned to Yoriichi, slightly disappointed
‘So… you were not really attracted to me, hey? It was just a game?’
Yoriichi responded ‘Oh no, not at all. Muzan showed me picturess of you many times before and I must say I was envious of him being with someone so smart, kind, and attractive. So, when he suggested this, the idea went straight to my dick.’
Muzan now continued: ‘Amber, that girl, by the way, is a porn actress and married to a friend of mine. They own an adult movie production company together and I have known them both for a while. But back to the story. As I said, I wanted you to see that there is so much more to life than being a prude, that sex is one of the most indulgent pleasures gifted upon mankind and not immersing ourselves fully in that gift is, well, a sin in my eyes.'
'I do believe that deep emotional love, a connection of souls runs deeper than any physical connection ever can. We are all animals and sex is dirty and amazing at the same time, the ultimate tool to express love, yes, but love can exist without it if you know what I mean. I will love you forever, for all eternity. I believe we are soulmates and we are connected and will always be drawn to each other in every world we are born into. Even if we never have sex again, I want you to be mine and mine only. When you want kids and a house with a white picket fence or whatever dream you may have, we will do it, of course. But for now, while we still are young let us indulge in what this carnal world has to offer. I want you to lose all restraints, and fulfill all your desires. When I saw you looking at our glorious friend here, I knew that if that is what you are into, I will make sure you get what you desire.’
When Muzan finally went quiet, it was Yoriichi’s turn to speak and he suddenly went serious.
‘I have known Muzan for a long time, but our friendship blossomed after my wife died. He was there for me all the way through my lowest. And believe me, it was an epic low. She was pregnant with what was to be our first child when she died in a car crash. Some drunken asshole drove into her car on the highway. My beloved wife and I started the gym and later the martial arts dojo together. These were our passions and I will never love anyone like I loved her ever again. All I have left is the gym and dojo and they are like babies to me. I am no monk and need sex, a lot of it, but only for recreation.’
All the time Yoriichi was speaking, Muzan held his arm around your back, his embrace tightening when Yoriichi mentioned the tragic story of his marriage.
‘Well, enough of the seriousness. Let us eat’ Yoriichi interrupted himself now.
You could not help to notice, that he was not the best of cooks, the pasta was slightly overcooked and the sauce too salty, but it was a sweet gesture of him to cook for his friends and by the way you were starving after everything that was happening for the past twenty-four hours. The wine he served with lunch was on the other hand fantastic and after a couple of glasses, the warm, fuzzy feeling of slowly getting tipsy was putting you in a relaxed state.
Looking at the two amazing men, you now started to understand what your boyfriend was talking about and wanted for you all the way. The normal scenario would involve you having to choose one of them, there would be drama, heart-brake and the euphoria of new love would eventually dim by the negative effects of it all. Thanks to Muzan’s approach, however, you never needed to choose now. The love the two of you shared was just as he described, transcending space and time. But the basic, carnal desire you felt for Yoriichi was also real. Being able to have it all, and more… was indeed the best you could ever wish for. Assured in this new discovery, you closed your eyes and let yourself daydream now finally receptive to visualise desires without any more restraints…
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uncookedfeeler · 4 months ago
Text
CITRUS I🍋
Yuna x Reader
Tags : 4k, light smut, incest,
Part 2
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Parenting is one of life's most transformative experiences. It is a journey filled with joy, growth, challenges and the commitment to raise and guide another human being. From the moment a child is born into the world, parents find themselves on a rollercoaster ride of endless new experiences, emotional highs and lows, and unwavering love.
Parents are caregivers, teachers and coaches, constantly trying to decipher their child's needs and feelings. While the joys of parenting are many, the challenges can be daunting. From sleepless nights with a newborn to the complexities of teenage rebellion, each stage of a child's development brings its own set of hurdles.
After more than fifty years on this planet, half of them with your wife, you're lucky enough to have a 20-year-old girl as your child. From day one she has been the ray of sunshine that lights up your life. She is the person you love most and will remain your most precious treasure until your last breath. But your relationship has changed a lot over the years. Your little princess has gone from being Daddy's little girl to a gorgeous woman who has been driving a wedge between you since she was a teenager. 
This distance has increased since she became a famous idol and now lives between the dormitory and your house, although she only stays when she wants to. 
As usual, you come home from work late in the evening and enter the lock code to get into your house. Unlike before, the lights are still out and the house is deserted. You leave your keys on the hall stand and walk into the living room, closing the SAS door behind you.
You sigh as you walk through the living room to your bedroom, the room a bit messy with some of your dirty clothes from the night before still on the tripod, you sit down on your bed to remove your tie and finally free your neck, your suit disappears and you put on more relaxed clothes. At the same time, your phone rings and you see the name of one of your colleagues on the display:
"Sorry to call so late, hope I'm not disturbing you?" says a soft voice at the other end of the line.
"Not at all, Mrs Bae, I just got home, what can I do for you?" you reply, laughing.
"The CEO wants to see you in his office tomorrow, he came by earlier but you already left, he said he wants to talk about the last contract you secured". 
"Ahahah, the old man already knows it seems, ok ok, noted I'll meet him tomorrow, have a good night Ms.Bae".
"You too, Director"
You put your phone on the bed before returning to the kitchen to prepare your meal and pour yourself a well-deserved beer. With your face still in the fridge, you hear the front door open and a familiar voice echo through the room with a simple "I'm home, I'm tired! "
You immediately know who it is and reply, "Welcome my darling, good to see you home, how was your day, are you hungry?"
Without answering, you see a young woman with red hair jumping onto the sofa. 
"Yuna, please take off your shoes before entering the house, and at least take off your jacket, it's quite warm in the house," you begin to reproach your only child.
"Daddy, please don't start, I've already lost my mind today with the girls, leave me alone!" the young woman cries in obvious annoyance.
The routine is back and you make the effort to take off her shoes while she is lying on her stomach on the sofa, you notice her outfit for the day, a black leather jacket hiding a nice white t-shirt and beige trousers, so you take the opportunity to complicate your princess. 
"That's a nice outfit, darling."
"Thank you," she replies, blushing.
You put the shoes down in the hallway next to yours and see her already absorbed in her phone, so you try to get the conversation going again:
"What happened to make my little Yuna so upset?" you say.
"I'm not 13 anymore, Dad, you can call me by my first name".
"Ah ah, sorry, Yuna".
"Those bitches stole my concept for the shoot, we had to choose a fruit and we had matching colour outfits, during the pre-shoot meeting we agreed and as luck would have it today they used their "maknae shoot last" rule and took my fruit!!! "
"Please don't shout, so what happened after that?" you try to calm her down.
"What do you think, I got to the shoot and all that was left were shitty concepts, seriously, who the fuck thinks it's sexy to have a lemon in the middle of a t-shirt, they're going to laugh so hard at me for the pictures, I'm so ashamed, I left right after the shoot," she says as she stands up and faces you.
You can see the sadness in her eyes and you want to hug her and tell her that everything will be fine, but now that she's looking at you, you realise that she probably forgot to take off the famous shirt and with great regret you put a big smile on your face, almost on the verge of tears.
"No, darling, I'm sure it's a great shirt," you reply with difficulty.
"PAPA!!!, WHY ARE YOU SNIGGERING?" the young idol cries before following your eyes to her T-shirt, her face falling as she finally realises the reason, you're so sorry, but the situation is really too funny.
As you wipe your eyes you see your princess's blood red eyes, tears streaming down her cheeks and she slaps you hard in the face "I FUCKING HATE YOU, JUST FUCKING DIE YOU AND MOM" before running into her room, 
For the second time in your life you feel that pain, the pain you feel when you hurt someone you love, just like your wife did 7 years ago. 
The pain on your cheek is almost non-existent, unlike the pain in your heart. You admit that Yuna has become very withdrawn since your wife's departure, and that your clumsiness with her has hurt her before, but never to this extent.
On the one hand, your authority has been challenged once again, and for the first time she's dared to raise a hand to you. On the other hand, there is a deep sadness that hurts you, but also makes you deeply regret your actions.
You hear your daughter's cries through the door and, with a feeble step, you knock on the door before entering.
"Baby....i'm so sorry" you see her lying on her bed, her head in her pillow, her crying stops when she raises her head and looks at you, her face is turned upside down, her make-up has run down her face. Seeing your child like that tears your heart out, even though you're responsible.
"Just go, just go like Mum, you don't even like me, do you? I'm ashamed of you, go and die," she said in a cold, mean tone.
"Baby... "Hearing these words from your little princess hurts and brings tears to your eyes, so you get down on your knees to continue your apology.
"Forgive me," you tell her as your tears begin to fall, Yuna continues to reject you and her words only drive nails into your feelings, you've surely done the irreparable and you decide to get up and leave her room.
You have ruined your last family relationship with the person who meant the most to you. 
"I'll bring you dinner later, just rest," you say in an emotionless tone as you grab the door handle to leave.
Your steps towards the living room are slow and your body heavy, only to suddenly hear someone running behind you, the door slamming against the wall, and feel your sweet daughter's body against your back as she tries to wrap her arms around you.
"PLEASE, DON'T LEAVE ME SORRY," the red one cries with all her hot tears.
You drop to your knees and take your only child in your arms and hold her close, her head is under your chin as she buries herself in your neck, you stroke her head with one hand while the other pats her back, her arms struggle to wrap around your waist but she clings tightly to you.
"I'm sorry darling, I'm sorry for everything, just let it go now, Daddy's here, I won't leave you, ever"
"Daddy, I'm sorry, I love you"
"I love you too, sweetheart"
You stay like this for many minutes before you plant a loving kiss on her forehead, a sign of your unconditional love for her. She's your treasure and the most important woman in your life.
Yuna's red eyes shine into yours and the young idol plants her lips on yours, the sensation is sweet and pleasant, you are morally in a dilemma, never in a million years would you have imagined kissing your daughter like this, but on the other hand you tell yourself that she's probably had too much rejection for today and is just trying to express her love for me. 
You allow your daughter to express her desires and she wraps her arms around your neck as you hold her kiss, her tongue meets yours in a first dance, the heat in the corridor rises as her body crashes against yours, you feel her small breasts against your chest and her perfume floods your nostrils.
"Yu..na," you try to stop her, tapping her shoulder as she literally tries to eat your lips.
The young idol slowly pulls back, leaving a trickle of drool between your two mouths. You see an incredibly sexy woman, her hair a mess, her breathing heavy and hot, her hands on your chest burning and her eyes devouring you like a hungry tigress.
"The redhead doesn't know what to say when she realises what she's done, her face turning scarlet as she rests her forehead on your shoulder.
"Don't worry, it's not your fault, are you tired?
She nods as you carry her to her room and tuck her into bed, one last kiss before sending your little princess off to dreamland.
"Good night, baby," you say to her as she seems to have gone far away.
.
.
.
The night was harder than expected, and after a light dinner you went to bed with your head still full of the events of the evening, a flurry of emotions running through your body and mind, and faster than you could have imagined, the morning light appeared through your window.
It's almost 7am and you're getting ready for a long day. As soon as you wake up, your body starts to show its age and it takes you a long time to get dressed and get out of your room and into the kitchen. You decide on a quick, simple breakfast of fried egg and rice, and with this morning's appointment, you'll be ready to go in no time, having filled up on vitamins for the day despite your fatigue. As you prepare this, you hear Yuna's bedroom door open and see your daughter come into the kitchen, still wearing her white T-shirt, but her beige trousers have been replaced by blue shorts.
"Morning dad," she says shyly.
"Hi honey, no schedule today?"
"Not this morning," she replies quickly, shaking her head.
Neither of you seem comfortable with the conversation and you do your best to avoid meeting her gaze and vice versa. You discreetly exchange glances and smiles, the redhead in front of you is beautiful and you find yourself ogling her.
You continue to prepare breakfast, making sure you have enough for your daughter. The only exchange you've had since is asking her if she wants a coffee, which she refuses. You see her hovering around the table as if she wants to talk, then she finally gets up and goes behind your back to the fridge.
Then you look back over your shoulder, feel Yuna's embrace around your waist as she buries her face in your back, feel the warmth of her breath again and put your hands on hers.
"Are you all right, darling?"
"I'm sorry dad, my head has been on fire since yesterday, my body has been on fire since I saw you this morning, I just wanted to tell you that I love you very much," she answers as she places kisses on your spine.
You feel the tenderness of her lips on your skin as Yuna gently lifts your work shirt, you say nothing, letting your daughter express her feelings as Yuna's gentle attacks send electric shocks down your back.
"Please look at me," she says as she forces you to turn around, pulling you by your hips until your bottom is resting on the edge of the kitchen counter, face to face with your daughter, who is staring at you for the first time this morning.
Her eyes were trembling and she asked you in a soft, frightened voice: "Tell me you love me, Daddy", while she pressed her body against yours. You felt her soft breasts against your chest and she put her hands on the back of your neck. Your daughter brings her lips to yours, her eyes closed, waiting for you to confirm your feelings.
At this point your morality as a father is the only obstacle standing in the way of this relationship, your daughter may not realise it but it is an immoral relationship waiting to happen, your daughter is still looking for a way to fill the hole in her heart, the love of her members doesn't seem to be working for her and now she is relying on you, her father, to give her what she needs, it is a difficult choice but you are letting yourself be swallowed by the devil, your daughter's happiness is what matters.
You cupped her cheek with one hand before pressing your lips to hers as Yuna melted under the pressure of her emotions, you rediscovered the sensation of love and laid your daughter on the counter while maintaining the kiss.
Your daughter is now sitting on the worktop, the difference in height bringing her face level with yours, she grabs the back of your hair to pull you towards her, her legs wrapped around your hips, your lips still locked as your tongues meet again.
When the seal is finally broken, both your breaths are heavy and noisy, each under the hypnosis of its own pleasure, while your eyes are full of sparkles and plunge into each other's. Your princess's eyes shed small tears, which you hastily wipe away with your finger before giving her a long kiss on the forehead.
Daddy, my heart is going to explode,' she says as she takes your hand to her breast with her t-shirt, the feeling is even better than you had imagined, her small breasts are firm and pleasant to touch, as you gently knead her breasts, the young woman makes little moans that express the pleasure she is receiving.
"Yuna... do you like what Daddy is doing?"
She nods "I want to feel your hand on my skin," she replies as she takes both your hands and places them under her t-shirt, right on her breasts.
"Do you like my lemons daddy? squeeze them hard please" Yuna's sexy face and her words echo in your brain as your hands work on her juicy fruit.
The tension in the room rises and you place your mouth on her little lemon, which you have been kneading for a few minutes, you attack her nipple with your tongue while you suck, hoping to suck something, you alternate your hands, now covered with little red spots, your daughter moans with pleasure and prevents you from withdrawing.
"Daddy, suck on them, play with my little lemons that you love so much, they're yours".
All this excitement had made you hot and a knot had formed in your trousers. Your lips left her two Susson-marked mounds and now attacked her defenceless neck, licking it from bottom to top, following her carotid artery and planting long kisses under her jaw, making her tremble before she gently pushed you away.
"Dad, let me take care of you too, I've been feeling your lump on my leg for a while now".
Your daughter begins to unbuckle your belt, then your trousers, until she can finally see your underpants and cock. Then your daughter puts her hand on the front of your briefs to rub your cock, and you see her other hand go down her shorts, probably to check the state of her briefs.
"I'm soaking wet, keep playing with my tits and come and touch me down there while I take care of you".
Your daughter's hand reaches through your shorts and grabs your cock to stroke it gently, on your side you slide one of your hands up her thigh to her panties and rub her slit directly against her skin, she's wet and you can feel a small bush above her entrance, you wiggle your fingers up and down, taking the opportunity to go back and kiss your princess who moans at your actions.
Yuna's technique isn't the best, but who can blame her, the poor thing is fighting against her own body and the way she arched her back as you delicately knocked on her pussy door, freeing her lips from your kiss, the young idol expressed with volume what she was feeling,
♥Hmm....♥Ah....Papa, continue ♥Hmm, ah....♥
Your daughter's moans are like music to your ears and she quickly lets you know that her orgasm is coming as your fingers begin to penetrate her pussy from the inside, you feel little spasms running down her body and her pussy dripping with wetness, as you pull your fingers out you see the deception in her eyes before devouring her with your mouth, forcing her to let go of your cock in the process. 
Your cock is extremely hard after Yuna's work but your pleasure is not your priority as your tongue slides up and down your daughter's slit, her juices are delicious and you suck them in to capture the taste of her naughty hole in your memory. Her grip on your thin hair is powerful and she blocks your head with her legs as you finally hear the release.
"Daddy, I'm going to come, it's happening, da..." before she can finish her own sentence, stopped by her pleasure, Yuna comes all over your now wet face and falls onto her back on the worktop.
"Are you OK, sweetie?" you ask her, a little worried as she suddenly falls backwards, the pressure of her legs freeing you and you see a close-up of your daughter lying on her back in front of you, her face red and wrung out, her hair falling in the air on the other side of the table, her breasts exposed and marked by your many hickeys and her pretty pink pussy that you've just finished devouring.
You grab both her hands and pull her towards you so that she's at your full height, then you take her in your arms as if you were comforting a small child.
"You're so hard daddy, you can do it if you want to," she says with a little hesitation and tired eyes, then you notice that your cock is at the same height as her pussy.
The choice seems obvious but at the same time you don't want to take it lightly and spoil the moment, the lack of time and place is not what you want to give your princess who is offering herself to you so you shake your head in refusal then plant a long kiss on her lips.
"Not now baby, another time," you reply as you start to pull away from her, only to feel her hand holding you back.
"At least let me make you feel better, I want to make you feel better too," she says as she grabs your cock and starts to jerk it like before.
"Do you like it when I rub your naughty cock? Why does a father turn on his daughter so much?" Yuna tries to be provocative to arouse you, but the tone is off and her lack of experience is glaring, you just smile under your daughter's true words.
Your orgasm builds as Yuna experiments with your cock, trying to give you as much pleasure as possible. You put your hands on her tits again and play with them, which doesn't seem to bother her, far from it.
.
.
"Daddy?"
.
.
"Yes, sweetie?
.
.
"You know ... if you want my lemons to give you their juice, you'll have to give me yours first," she said, pointing to her pussy.
The image crosses your mind, the image of a father and daughter kissing the fruit of their forbidden love, a father giving his love to his daughter and a daughter giving birth to that love, your excitement and shame explode as your cock comes to paint the lower part of your daughter's body, her pussy and thighs marked by your essence.
I'm sorry, I'll clean you up,' you say, looking for something to wipe your cum-filled daughter with.
"It's OK, I'll do it myself,' she says as she scoops up the white liquid and brings it to her mouth.
Any young man would have been revitalised to see such a beautiful woman collecting cum on her body, but your cock is now in a less than glorious state and you pull up your trousers, taking care to get dressed.
"It's almost time darling, I have to go," you tell her as you haven't eaten or slept well, it's going to be a long day.
"Wait," she replies as she approaches you, still naked, "don't forget my goodbye kiss," as she presses her lips hard against yours, then whispers, "we'll continue tonight, I love you.
Your body and mind may be in bad shape, but knowing your princess will be there for you tonight fills your heart with a feeling you've been missing.
Later, in your car on the way to work, you get a notification that someone you're following has just started a live stream, obviously it's Yuna, she's the only one you follow, you pick up the stream on the way, but enough to hear your daughter say
My favourite fruit? mhhhhhhhhhh that's a good question, I'll go with lemon, it's a sweet fruit like me and TMI, but my dad loves lemons'.
______________________________________________________________
532 notes · View notes
aphroditessaturn · 1 year ago
Text
𝐈𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊 𝐈𝐓, 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐑𝐄𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐄 𝐈𝐓 || 𝐇.
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pairing || homelander × fem!reader
summary || Homelander constantly destroys your underwear to the point where you have none left. In conclusion you force him to buy you new ones and have the whole media see it.
warnings || SMUT; we've got tittie sucking, fingering, sublander (I love that word) but also domlander? p in v, unprotected sex, big load (he's a supe so ofc), rough sex, did I forget something?
note || this is my first homelander you guys and sure ain't the last... idk what my problem is with these difficult men and making them soft, please reblog/comment and give feedback!
BLOGS | WEBSITE | AO3 | WATTPAD | TAGLIST
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“Yes, and tomorrow you have an interview with Fox,” Ashley told Homelander as she trailed after him, clipboard clutched in her hands. The blonde nodded, not even listening completely because his mind was already on you.
He was only meters away from you and could already hear your light humming over the music that played in the background. Ashley kept talking to Homelander’s dismay, not that he wasn’t interested, especially if she was talking about his ratings.
However, you took over his thoughts and body, god, his body longed for you. With his heavy footsteps he walked towards his penthouse and thinking about every position he would put you in.
Homelander opened the doors, and Ashley was still there. He was close to cursing her out, but stopped in his tracks once he laid eyes on you.
You stood in front of the trashcan, throwing away your lingerie. Completely naked. His eyes went wide, as naked as the day you were born you stood there.
Ashley squeaked, holding her clipboard in front of her eyes, “I’m sorry, god, I’m so, so, sorry,” she apologized profusely. Quickly she run out of the room, shocked as to what she just saw and hoped that Homelander wouldn’t punish her.
“What the fuck are you doing,” he questioned you with a glare, slowly making his way over to you.
In response you pouted at him, pushing all your destroyed lingerie into the trash, “well, you see all my pretty lingerie is destroyed and now I have to throw them all away,” you looked up at him with innocent doe eyes.
“Doesn’t explain why you’re naked,” he pressed, although Homelander didn’t mind but he hated anyone else seeing what’s his.
“I have no underwear, dummy,” you teased him with a smile, one that turned his mind around. He had known for years by now and knew exactly that you acted dumber than you actually were.
His patience was waning and he fought himself to not look at your perfectly hard nipples touching his suit coveted chest.
“I can’t even wear my plain once because my handsome boyfriend ripped them when I was on my period,” you added, acting as if you didn’t know what else to do. Your arms snaking around Homelander’s neck.
“Then buy fucking new ones and don’t let anyone see you naked,” he growled as his hands found a vice grip on your hips. “Mhm, but you know the rule. If you break it, you have to replace it,” scolded him, rubbing your breasts against his suit covered chest and pulling on his concentration.
“Fine, take my card,” Homelander hissed, he wanted to get over this topic and simply fuck you. He pushed you back against the wall, his leather gloved hand stroking along the back of your thigh.
“Don’t think so, you will come with me baby boy,” you grinned at him, hooking your leg around his torso.
Homelander didn’t like that, he couldn’t go anywhere without being recognized and how would it look if a superhero was buying lingerie?
As if you could read his thoughts – which by now you could – you pushed back, caressing his cheek while pushing him back onto the sofa. He laid back with you on top of him, still gripping your waist in a way that was sure to leave bruises.
“Imagine how good your ratings would be if you buy your pretty girlfriend all that lingerie. Men would love the control you have, and women will love seeing a devoted boyfriend,” you whispered, praising him as you moved your cunt over his clothed erection.
He released a strained groan, already painfully hard, “everyone will love you,” you whispered into his ear. You leaned down, your nipple hovering over his lips.
You knew how much he loved sucking your tits and you knew what to say to get everything you wanted.
“And don’t you wanna choose what I should wear? I’m too stup-,” “Fine, I’ll fucking go with you,” Homelander hissed and switched you around, now on top of you and his pearl white teeth bared.
Your thighs clenched, your cunt already soaking wet, but you had to suppress the smirk of triumph.
Homelander latched onto your nipple, sucking on it hungrily while his right hand kneaded your unattended breast. You threaded your hand through his gold-blonde hair, harshly tugging on his roots.
His tongue licked around your nipple before gently biting down causing you to arch your back, “John,” you moaned.
With a ‘plop’ sound he released your breast, looking up at you through his beautiful lashes.
Slowly his hand trailed down to your core, the cool leather of his glove causing goosebumps to dance along your skin. He rubbed his thumb over your clit as his attention directed towards you other breast.
You could feel his desperation, it wasn’t from the conversation just moments before, no. It was because of the other team members had gotten his last nerve, VOUGHT had gotten on his last nerve, everyone had gotten on his last nerve.
“Oh, baby,” you mused with a loving smile, taking a deep breath. The pressure on your clit increased, and your breath quickened.
John immediately picked up on your behavior, you were close to your high. He inserted his middle and ring finger inside you, “fuck,” you groaned at the new feeling of his thick fingers.
“They’re all brainless idiots, can’t do a thing right,” he gritted his teeth, curling his fingers against your g-spot. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as you tried to come up with words to response, John expected it from you.
“Mhm, yeah, they’re-,” your sentence was cute off by a loud moan slipping from your lips as he bit onto your nipple.
He sucked harder, a desperate call for praise, “you’re right, they’re all brainless, but you, you’re the best of them. John, you’re smart, pretty and the greatest supe,” it rolled off your tongue naturally.
To you he was perfect, he could do no wrong and maybe you were sick in the head for thinking that.
“Make me come, please make mommy come,” you pleaded, grip still tight in his hair. Without hesitation John brought you to your orgasm, a pornographic moan fell from your mouth as you bucked your hips up to meet his thrusts.
“You did so good, you’re perfect John,” you praised as your high rushed through your blood, god you felt amazing.
Homelander reeled in your praise, he needed it to function properly. While he enjoyed, loved, controlling you, telling you what to do and not to do, John worshipped the ground you walked on.
-----
Ahley organized the press along with fans to stand in front of your favourite lingerie shop, Homelander was for once wearing something casual – you forced him to.
“It looks better, trust me,” you told him with a pointed look, “you want them to love you, don’t you?” you added, knowing this would push him over the edge.
Now he wore dark jeans, sneakers and a matching polo shirt. He had a charming smile on his face as he escorted you into the store which was empty – expect for a cashier. Never before did you have the chance of shopping private like this, online shops were your best friend.
Your man looked around, already picturing you in some of the lingerie that catched his eye. “What do you think of this one?” you asked, showing him a blue piece, it wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, just a baby blue lace set.
“It’s uhm, pretty,” boring, fucking boring, was what he wanted to say. You rolled your eyes playfully and continued looking around, until something unique came into your sight.
Quickly you took your size and vanished into the changing room, of course Homelander heard you and followed you curiously.
You put on the hot pink bra, the underside was see-through, and the top was decorated with flowers. The slip was the same, meaning most of your vagina was visible add to that it was connected with two strings on each side.
The accessory that made you pick it was the choker, it came with a chain that went down between your breasts and was attached to flower shaped belt which fitted your waist perfectly.
Homelander waited outside, impatiently looking around the room until you were ready. Then you opened the curtain, revealing yourself.
You smiled at him innocently, “how does this look?” you asked. He took a step towards you, hand tracing along the fabric and causing a shiver to run down your spine. Suddenly he hooked his point finger around the chain, slowly dragging you to him.
He leaned down, lips hovering over yours, “you’re playing a dangerous game little lady,” he whispered. You pouted, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him impossibly close.
“I’m not playing any game,” you told him honestly, playing with the tiny hairs on his nape. “Don’t think just because they’re many, many people out there I won’t fuck you till you can’t walk anymore,” Homelander threatened, but was it really a threat if you would enjoy every second of it?
“Promise?” you smirked and within a second you were pressed against a wall. Homelander slid his hand down to your core, in your mind you already knew what was about to happen.
With that he snapped the pink panties in half, pushing his two fingers inside you, “look at that, little slut is already wet,” he taunted you.
Your head fell back as he curled his fingertips against your cervix, his unoccupied hand came up to lift your leg around his torso.
“Does that feel good mhm? Come on let me hear you, let them hear you,” he rubbed his thumb over your clit, finally drawing a moan from you. Homelander kissed you, hard, pushing his tongue into your mouth.
He showed his dominate side, hand leaving your side to undo your hand around his neck. Slowly moving it towards his belt, a silent order to open it which you follow without hesitation.
The trousers of his suit fell to the ground, Homelander hosted you up into his arms and entering you in one stroke, giving you no time to adjust to his size – as if he ever did.
You moaned, biting your lip in pleasure. For a moment he stilled inside you, his heavy breathing hitting your skin. Slowly he moved his hips upwards, you could feel him stretching your cunt, feel him hit that spongy spot inside you.
“Fuck, you’re fucking me so good, so good,” you groaned, eyes rolling in the back of your head. Homelander grinned at you, “yes, yes, tell me how good I’m. Fucking tell me and I will let you cream all over my fat cock.”
“You’re good, fucking amazing, baby. No one compares to you, you’re so good,” you chanted as he pounded into you at a ruthless pace.
Sometimes you wondered if your cervix could form bruises, but what you knew was that it could become difficult to walk out of this store.
A tight knot formed in your stomach, pleasure building up and you gripped Homelander’s hand, guiding it towards your clit.
“That’s right, I’m fucking you and you love it, you love me. Say it, come on,” he growled, letting go of your thigh and you closed your legs around his waist, sucking his cock deeper in. You need to feel more of him.
His hand came up to your throat as you didn’t answer, stilling inside of you, “I said, tell me you love me, or I will fill you until my seed is dripping down your legs and you can’t take it anymore, but you little lady, little slut won’t get to come.”
Tears welled in your eyes, you wouldn’t even mind it and he fucking knew it, but for your own sanity you had to answer him. Play into his game, because in your sick twisted mind you enjoyed it.
“I love you, I love you so fucking much,” you whimpered, clutching your hands on his shoulders, begging him to move.
“You do, don’t you? Want me to make you come, want me to fill you up?” he asked, though he knew the answer he, wanted to hear it from you.
“Mhm, yes, want you to make me come, please, please and fill me up, I want it so bad,” you begged, and he finally moved again, rocking his hips up. They you begged him brought him closer to his high, he loved having you at his mercy, doing everything he wanted.
A pornographic moan slipped from your lips as he rubbed over your clit and hit your g-spot. You reached your high, the knot exploding and smashed your lips onto Homelander’s to muffle another moan.
He barred his teeth, releasing his cum into your cunt and his pace slowed down. “Come, paint me baby,” you whispered into his ear.
----
“These please,” you grinned at the woman working the register, letting a pile of lingerie fall onto the counter. Every sort of color and shape, nervously the woman cashed you up, “a bag?” she asked to which you nodded.
“That will be 300,36 please,” she said, “cash or card?” she added, looking at you and not daring to spare Homelander a glance.
You held out your palm to your boyfriend who huffed before putting his card into your hand, “thank you,” you said and laid the card down, then stepping aside once it signaled, “pin, “ you told him and gestured to the machine.
Homelander put in the pin while the cashier packed everything up, handing it to you, “thank you very much,” you smiled.
Finally, she found the voice to ask Homelander for an autograph, “oh, sure everything for my fans! You guys are the real hero’s,” he showed her his pearly white teeth and signed her card.
“We could do this a lot more often, go shopping together, maybe have a little lunch date,” you trailed off, teasing him.
Outside there was a lightening of reporters and fans, all wanted pictures and asked questions. In Homelander style and because of Vought, he answered some of them, but he had to keep himself together.
"What is it like to have such a devoting boyfriend?"
"Anything else you do for your girlfriend?"
"How is you future looking? The two of you are a beautiful couple!"
"Thank you, thank you! The future is bright and what my girl wants she gets, there is truly nothing I won't give her," he smiled at them brightly. You posed for pictures, getting bolder with every flash.
Homelander wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you into his side to whisper in your ear. "You better behave little lady, I will punish you until you can't walk a fuckinf millimetre."
"Promise?"
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please reblog/comment and give feedback! I would love to know if you like my Homelander fics, I have so many ideas
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freakyformula · 3 months ago
Text
Stockholm Syndrome
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Summary: Mafia Max kidnaps the reader and tries to win her over.
A/N: Might make a part two... Maybe.
Warnings: Smut, NSFW, swear words, mentions of injuries, oral (both receiving), creampie, light spanking....
Word count: 7,7k
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The sound of music and glasses clunking filled your ears as you sat with your friend on the balcony of the most extravagant nightclub the city could offer. The menu was filled with ridiculously expensive drinks and appetizers.
You didn't live here, but your best friend Emma did. You two had known each other since you were in kindergarten and spent every day together in school. When you got a little older though, life got in the way and you got separated by university and work. This didn't stop you two, you still spoke almost every day on the phone.
Emma had recently gotten promoted and decided to invite you over to her city to celebrate. Neither you nor Emma had any other friends, it was just you and her, always together.
You didn't really know why she'd decided on this club, but you had to admit, it was impressive with the expensive-looking ornaments and the huge crystal chandelier hanging in the middle of the industrial building.
As you looked around, all you could see was well-dressed men and women. You felt misplaced.
"I need a fag so bad." Emma declares and struts off, leaving you alone inside.
Sitting alone made you feel even more awkward and you could see the others looking down at you with what looked like pity in their eyes.
You sipped on your spritz and looked down, embarrassed. You dressed modestly, wearing an off-shoulder midi dress in white, fitting you perfectly. Emma and you had been out shopping for the occasion earlier that day. When you got ready a couple of hours earlier, you thought you looked okay, but right now, you couldn't feel more unattractive.
A bunch of men barges out from a room in the back, making the other guests quickly move out of their way. The men were dressed in all black and walk up to the bar, a couple of meters from you. You quickly turn around on the fancy leather sofa, not wanting to draw their attention. When you turn around, you notice a man exiting the same door from which the other males exited only a few seconds before. This man was unlike the others; he strolled in with gentle steps, whereas the others made their arrival sound like a swarm of hippos was approaching. And he looked so put together. That suit of his must be really expensive.
You catch yourself staring and quickly look away.
"Wanna dance?" You hear Emma yell from behind. You really weren't in the mood but you obeyed her wish. You follow her to the dance floor. You threw your hair and sang along to the song, making the other guests look at you in annoyance, but you couldn't care less at that moment. All you were here for was to celebrate your friend and her accomplishments.
As you walked up to your table again, you went by the bar and inspected the menu closely. You decide on a cocktail and place the order.
"This one is on me." You hear, the raspy sound coming from behind.
The bartender quickly starts working on your order as the man looks at him. You turn around and lock eyes with the man you saw before. He gazes down at you and gives you a sweet smile.
"Sorry, Max." He introduces himself and offers a handshake.
"Hi, I-I'm Y/N." You reply and shake his hand. His handshake was powerful, just like you thought it would be.
"Y/N. Beautiful name. Now tell me, Y/N, what lures a beauty like you to my club?"
You're shocked by his statement, which makes him chuckle, but you still keep eye contact.
Is this man the owner? But he looks so young, surely he's lying, right?
"I… I'm here with my friend." You say and point to your friend who is half asleep on the leather sofa, clearly completely off her face.
"I see." Max turns to look at you again. His gaze is so intense, that it almost makes you uncomfortable.
You turn to look at the bartender, who is taking longer than usual to finish your drink. Max lingers by your side, making small talk with you and what you assumed were his friends until you got your drink. "It was nice meeting you, Y/N. Enjoy the rest of your night." Max smiles at you and you sip on your drink, giving him a smile back. He was pleasant to be around and you felt a little lonely when he and the black-suited men followed him. You went back to your table only to realize that Emma has dozed off.
"Emma, wake up!" You yell at her. You try shaking her without luck. She was out and there was no way of waking her.
"Fuck, always drinking too much…" You mutter to yourself. Now what were you supposed to do? Before you could think further you started to feel drowsy. "The hell?" You ask yourself as you too drift off into a comfortable slumber.
The sound of men talking fills your ears as you're lulled out of your sleep. The bright light makes it hard to see and it takes a while for your eyes to adjust.
"Where am I?" You ask.
No answer. The satin pillows under your head aren't yours. And you didn't recognize the room either. You were too groggy to register anything about the room you were in, except that it was light. Wait, why were you in a hospital? You try to move your hands to rub your eyes but your hands are stopped. You look up at your hands, they're bruised by the handcuffs around your wrists.
"What the… actual.." You whisper to yourself. Now, panic starts to take over all of your senses and you spring up from the mattress to your knees.
"Help!" You yell.
The room felt sterile, and even if your sight was blurred you noticed the white tile walls and what looked like medical equipment in a couple of cabinets on the other side of the room.
Panic fully encompasses you and you place your legs against the wall to try to pull the metal off your hands. You've quickly used all of the remaining energy. Your eyes water up and you look around for something to help you escape. Everything you see to make you company in the room is the mattress, a couple of pillows and the cabinets.
You cry out and try to remember what exactly happened last night. Emma. Where was Emma? You think to yourself. You had to get out of here. As you're about to start struggling with the chain again you freeze, hearing footsteps and voices from outside of the door.
"Open the door." A familiar voice says, followed by the sound of keys clinging.
You have no idea what to do, so you just collapse on the mattress, pretending to be asleep.
As the door opens, you hear multiple footsteps approaching you.
"Good morning, beautiful." The voice whispers. "Get out before I kill you all." He says, barely audible, assumably to the others in the room. Before you can even register it, the room is empty, except for you and the man.
You feel someone rubbing your arm lightly.
"Ik weet dat je wakker bent." I know you're awake
You have no idea what the familiar voice just said, and just keep your eyes shut. The voice sighs and walks off. You hear a thump and you can only assume that the man has sat down on the floor.
You lie there, quiet, not daring to move an inch.
"You know, Y/N… As long as you treat me nicely, I will do the same to you." The voice speaks.
How does the voice know your name?
Slowly but surely, the happenings of last night come to mind.
The man you met at the nightclub. Max. Was he behind all of this?
You don't dare to look up to check if it's him you're sharing the room with, but the voice is similar.
You hear him moving on the floor, shuffling his way over to your mattress. When you feel his fingers on your hand you instinctively kick in his direction. The man is quick though, and dodges the kicks from you. As if by routine, he grabs your swinging legs. You let out a cry, and you two settle with him looking down at you lying on your back with your legs in his embrace.
"Max…. Where the fuck am I and where is Emma?" You look up at him with tears flowing on your cheeks as you tremble in fear.
"Shhhh, sweetheart, it's okay, I'm not going to hurt you."
"Then why the fuck am I here?!" You yell.
"You're simply here because I want you, and I couldn't risk you getting away last night."
You stare into his mellow eyes and try to process what he just said.
"Who the fuck are you?"
"I'm Max Verstappen and I'm the head of the mafia around here." Your body tenses up when you hear him. Mafia? Max looked way too innocent to be a part of the mafia. This had to be some sort of sick joke.
"You're mad, you know that? Now, let me loose and we'll forget about all of this." You try to bargain.
"Oh no, that's not how this works, Y/N. You see, I can't just let you go, you belong to me now."
"Where is Emma?" You ask again.
"Your friend? She's safe."
He lets your legs go and starts pacing the room.
"Why me?" You ask in confusion.
"Because you tick all of my boxes. You're beautiful, you've got class, you're funny…"
"You don't know anything about me, creep." You mutter.
"Oh trust me Y/N, I know more about you than you probably realise."
You crawl into a ball, sobbing your heart out as Max looks at you.
"Let me help you, Y/N. I don't want to hurt you, but I also can't let you go.
His words enlighten a rage in you, a rage that you thought you weren't even capable of.
"I literally met you last night, motherfucker! Don't barge in here thinking you know me when you clearly know nothing." You yell at his face.
He looks completely deflated as he looks at you. He stares down at his shoes and seems to think about what to say next. "Clearly, this will take time." He finishes and walks out.
A couple of weeks pass, and you're moved to a new room, equipped with your own toilet, a proper bed, kitchen table, and two armchairs. Max would visit you multiple times a day to get to know you, sometimes spending hours upon hours sitting in that stupid armchair of his, either trying to strike up a conversation with you or just sitting there in silence, keeping an eye on you. Either way, he seemed to enjoy himself.
You, on the other hand, either ignored him or argued back to anything he said. You weren't going to make this easy for him, that was for sure. How he kept his cool, was beyond you.
"Liefje, stop that." He sternly says as you hit the door, desperate to get out.
"You know there are at least 12 heavily armed men on the other side with strict orders not to let you out, right?"
You couldn't give less of a fuck, they might as well kill you.
When you're about to hit the door once more, you feel Max's hands on yours, hitting against the door one last time. He presses you against the metal door and keeps his hands on yours.
"You will do exactly as I say, will you not, hm?" Max asks.
"Kill me then! You might as well kill me if I'm going to be held here like a prisoner for the rest of my life!" You yell in his face.
Day after day, he'd come. Sometimes he'd bring you a bouquet of flowers, which you tossed in the trash immediately, sometimes he brought you something you'd requested, like a McDonald's cheeseburger or Lindt chocolate. You were grateful he actually cared enough to bring you those things. Some kidnappers surely wouldn't treat you with this much dignity, you resonated.
A couple of more weeks pass and Max starts to bring you gifts. Clothes he thought you'd look good in, jewellery he'd put his eyes on and needed to buy for you to wear, shoes he'd take off your feet at some point.
He convinced you to eat dinner at the same time as him. Usually you'd wait for him to finish his meal in order to avoid having to face him. To you, it would equal defeat and you were adamant on making his life a living hell.
"So, could this be concidered a first date?" He smiles at you.
"In your dreams, Verstappen."
His whole body shuddered as he heard you use his last name.
You sitting at the same table as him was progress. In the beginning, you wouldn't even look his way.
"So, when are you letting me free?" You ask with a stern tone.
"When I know you won't run away."
"So in theory, never?"
"If that's what you want." He shrugs as his eyes darken. "I will always find you if you run away. Always."
A couple of days pass and Max once again walks into the room. He'd visited you in the morning, accidentally waking you up. Now though, he was ready for dinner.
"My cook made us dinner." He says as he takes off his coat and approaches you sitting at the table, completing a puzzle he'd bought for you; you were pleasantly pleased when he stepped in with it, you'd mentioned that you enjoy crocheting, reading and solving puzzles at some point, and he'd picked up on that.
"Hmmmm… I'm not hungry." You say.
"I know you're hungry Y/N. My men told me that you didn't eat breakfast."
And he was right, you were starving.
"Ugh… Hate you." You mutter to yourself.
"You don't mean that." Max whispers, reassuring himself.
You move over so you sit opposite the handsome man. You gladly eat the food the cook made, you have to admit that the food they made was delicious.
Max looks at you fondly while you eat until you look up at him.
"What?!" You ask, irritation evident in your voice.
"Just admiring my girl."
"You slam down your fork into the table, leaving four small dents in the wood.
"Your girl? I'm not your girl Max. You kidnapped me! I'm not here of my own free will."
He smirks at you. "Just give me some time and I'll change that."
"Do you promise to be a good girl?" He asks of you as he ties the blindfold around your head.
"Yes, Max." You sigh.
Finally, he was moving you from the lonely room to his very own house.
He leads you into the car, making sure you're comfortable.
On the way, the guards, the same men you met that night, kept communicating with each other. You wondered how many men Max needed to feel safe.
"Don't worry about them, it's only a precaution to keep us safe. I've got important cargo on board." He chuckles as he grabs your hand and squeezes it reassuringly.
You huff, "Last time you call me cargo, imbecile."
When Max opens the door for you and removes the blindfold, you finally realise the extent of his wealth.
What he had defined as a house was a mansion in reality. And the garden… Surely, this is where he got those bouquets from. You also catched a glimpse of the padel course and the swimming pool close by.
All of the guards welcomed you respectfully. It was weird seeing all of them like this, months after your first encounter at the club.
"Y/N, these are your personal guards, Daniel, Lando, and Charles. They will keep you safe at all times." Max states.
The men don't dare to look at you, afraid of Max's reaction. They simply just nod.
Living with a mafia boss had it's perks and drawbacks. He'd bring you flowers from his garden daily, and gifted you something ridiculously expensive weekly meaning your new wardrobe started to fill up with new expensive clothes and jewellery. Max didn't trust you enough to be alone outside the house, so you were still followed by at least one of the guards.
You tried your hardest to be nice to them, it wasn't their fault that you were in this unfortunate situation. They were clearly uncomfortable being your guards, not wanting to look your way, touch you or talk to you, afraid of their fate if they angered their boss. You were thankful though, they helped you with things you needed help with and stayed out of your way when you needed them to.
You had to admit, you lived a comfortable life. You'd spend your day either by the pool or comfortably inside the large, luxurious house. You wouldn't have to lift a finger again with Max as your man. The problem was, you were itching to get out into the world again. You had no contact with the outside world. You missed your parents and siblings at home. You missed Emma. Hell, you even missed work.
One day, after dinner, Max walks up to you with a box.
"Open it." Max encourages you.
"Not another gift, Max. I've told you, I don't want any!" You complain.
"I promise, you will like this one."
You sigh and study the neat black box with a black ribbon on top.
And Max is right, you love the gift. He had gifted you a phone, how generous of him. Finally, you had a way to keep in contact with the world. You had one contact. Emma. You immediately dial her and wait for her to pick up.
"Hello, who is this?" You hear your dear friend ask.
You instantly burst out crying when you hear her voice.
"It's Y/N! I'm so glad to hear your voice!"
"Y/N?! What the fuck, where are you, are you okay? I reported you missing months ago! Honestly, the police, your parents, and I started to lose hope of finding you." You hear her sobbing too.
"I'm okay, I've been forbidden to tell you where I am but I'm fine. Please send my parents my regards."
You continue talking for the rest of the evening. Max leaves you to it, trusting you enough not to tell your friend about your whereabouts. Max permitted you to call Emma once per week, and your calls was all you looked forward to. Hearing Emmas voice was soothing and felt like home.
"Y/N, I'm going mad, where are you? I want to meet up." Emma asks after a couple of weeks.
You look up at Max and Lando, both of them standing in front of you, hearing her question as she's on speaker.
"Uhhh, I'm afraid I can't tell you, Emma, but I hope we can meet up soon." You nod at the men and they nod approvingly back. Not being able to tell your best friend hurt more than it should have. That night you spend sobbing your heart out into one of your goose down pillows in your bed, cursing Max out as he pats your head.
"Fuck you, Max!" You curse.
"Shhhh…. It will get easier. And if you behave and act like a good girl for me, I'll let you meet Emma." Max tries to soothe you.
The day after, you tried calling your parents when Max didn't see or hear, but the call didn't come through. Surely, Max had a function on it, meaning the only person you could call was Emma. Max found out that you'd disobeyed him by calling your parents and took your phone away, enraging you even more. You soon realised that the only way you'd get out of this was by obeying Max's rules.
You were peacefully eating breakfast when Max and a couple of his men followed him into the kitchen.
He sneakily appears behind you and steals a piece of your toast as you're about to have a bite.
"Heyy!! Thief!" You yell.
Max and his men let out a giggle at your annoyed expression.
"I'll be home at 7 pm, okay?" Max asks.
"Yeah." You shrug at him. He gives you a small smile and turns around.
You spend the day at the pool, reading a book Max gifted you. Lolita by Vladimir Nabokov. Why he chose that book, you didn't know. Daniel and Charles spend their day near you, standing guard. Luckily they don't have to be by themselves and you can hear them laughing now and again.
You craved a friend like that too. In a way Max was unfair, he let his men talk to each other and have friendships but letting you meet Emma was out of the question.
You figured you would freshen up before Max got home, and walked inside. The men didn't follow for once, seemingly deep in a conversation.
That meant that you could discover the mansion by yourself. The men had stopped you from exploring the whole building for some reason. Mindlessly, you strolled around the house, checking the doors. Weirdly, all of them were locked. Bored, you walk back to your room. On the way, you walk past Max's room. Curiosity overwhelms you and you check the door, and it's open. You hear the floor creak as you walk on it. You try to walk even lighter as you find your way further into the room. The floor was painted in a dark wooden accent and the ceiling was filled with paintings of angels, lambs and plump clouds. You turn to the fireplace with a huge painting of a man above it. The man looked like an older version of Max, surely it had to be either his father or grandfather.
All of a sudden, the lights come on, and you see Max standing in the doorway.
"Sneaking around, are we?"
"No, no, it wasn't like that!" You try to explain, as Max walks closer to you.
"Shhhh…" He shushes, "This is the perfect opportunity to show you our bedroom. This is where you'll be sleeping for the rest of your life when you decide to move in."
"I like it?" You say, insure about the dark red tones and tassels spread around the room.
Max takes notice of your facial expression. "I'll have it renovated for you, maybe that will encourage you to move in quicker?" Max asks. "I'm making no promises." You shake your head and give him a teasing smile.
Max creeps closer to you, not breaking eye contact. You've gotten used to the man and you don't back off when he walks closer to you. He grabs your arms, pulling you even closer. You feel the heat he radiates as your bodies touch. And that signature cologne he wears every day smells different at this proximity. Before things get too heated for your liking you pull away, which results in Max pulling you in again, making you yelp. He bends down and places a delicate kiss on your forehead. Then, finally, he lets you go.
You're so shocked, you don't even register that his hands aren't holding you in place, and you stand there for what feels like an eternity, staring into his ocean-blue eyes. Your breath is heavy, and so is his. Max returns his hands to you, but this time he doesn't hold you in place but rather supports you. His hands wander from your sides down to your hips.
Max lets out a small moan. "Feel so good. You're driving me crazy." His words are messing with your head. You know what he's trying to do and you refuse to fall for his gaslighting. But goddamn, his hands felt so good on you. His hands grow bolder and fall to your ass, giving it a little squeeze.
You break from his soft hold and glare at him.
"Too soon? Sorry, liefje."
A couple of weeks pass, and you're growing accustomed to Max and his life.
You and Emma talk almost daily at this point and you're starting to enjoy your surroundings, despite the lack of freedom. Well, lack of privacy to be exact, as Max has let you off his premises a couple of times to do some shopping. The guards were still following you wherever you went though.
Max would try to get closer to you, stealing light kisses on your forehead and cheeks.
"Good morning, sweetheart." Max smiles when he sees you walk into the kitchen. You grab the kettle, "Good morning… You sound like you're in a good mood."
"I am, I actually have some very exciting plans for us later." He says as he walks around the kitchen island and walks up behind you, turning you around.
"Here." He lends you his black card, "Take this and get yourself something nice for later."
"Max… What do you mean by "nice"? You ask.
"Something that will make people drop their jaws, I give you free hands."
And with that, he leaves for work. Lando, Daniel, and Charles are ordered to take care of you. They quickly nod and wait for you to get ready. Just to mess with them a little, you take your time eating breakfast, choosing your outfit, and applying makeup.
"Finally!" Lando exclaims, followed by a slight push by Charles. They lead you outside, walking close by in case you decide to run away. What they don't seem to realise is, you're in heels and you're not running anywhere with them on.
You walk around the mall all day in order to find something nice to wear for the evening. It was harder than you thought, especially since you had no idea of what Max's plans were.
You finally decide on a black maxi dress with a slightly exposed back. You walk out from the changing room and ask the men for opinions.
"Errrm, it's fine, I guess?" Charles answers, unsure of what to say.
"It looks awesome on you." Daniel corrects his co-worker, followed by an approving nod by Lando.
"What exactly are I and Max doing later?" You ask the trio of guards as you walk out of the shop with a couple of shopping bags in their hands.
"He told us not to tell." They simply state.
"Ugh." You roll your eyes at them, annoyed by their loyalty to their boss.
Your eyes land on a jewelry shop, and the most beautiful necklace you'd ever laid your eyes on. You turn your heel, making the men almost crash into you. They apologize profusely but you don't listen. "Good day, miss." The store clerk greets. "Searching for something in particular?"
You walk over to the grand necklace. "How much is this?"
"100." The salesperson states.
You look at them, confused. 100? Surely the necklace was worth more than that.
The clerk must've noticed your confusion because they cleared their throat and looked at the men behind you with a questioning look.
"100 000, miss."
The words came off their tongue like it was nothing. On the other hand, you could not believe what you'd just heard.
"….100 000?" You question. "Consider it sold." You say, smiling. The clerk turns and stares at you with big eyes. The trio behind you stare at you with even bigger eyes. Theoretically, you could get a house for the same price. You finish up the deal and walk away as a proud one hundred thousand necklace owner with the guards taking care not to walk into you again.
When you get home, it's already late and you need to start getting ready.
"When is Max coming home?" You ask Lando.
"Soon." He answers, leaving you alone in your room.
You take a quick shower to freshen up. You wrap a towel around your naked body and when you get out of the bathroom you're startled by Max, as he's lying on your bed scrolling on his phone languidly.
"What the fuck, Max? That's my bed!"
"Hello schatje, miss me? And actually, you're in my house, I can do whatever I want in here."
You groan, "Some privacy please?!"
Max gets up and gives you a quick kiss on your cheek, something you don't fight against.
"Wanted to see you, that was all." And with that, he exits your bedroom and closes the door.
You get ready for him in record time. When you come down the stairs, he's already waiting for you. The dress you wear fits you like a glove and you feel sexy. What finished your look off though, was the necklace, that you'd paired with some other jewelry to match.
Max meets up with you halfway and takes your hand, kissing it.
"When I said 'free hands', this is exactly what I had in mind, Y/N."
"Do you like it?" You ask, giving him a spin.
"I love it, I love you." He admits as he pulls you close and kisses you. This was unexpected and you should've refused but you just… couldn't. When he pulls away he studies you once again and huffs,
"So beautiful, mijn liefde."
"Ready?" He asks as he guides you out to his car.
"When are you going to tell me what we're doing?"
"I'm taking you to see my mother."
"You're taking me to meet your mother?! I thought you were taking me for dinner!"
"Well, technically I am, she's an excellent cook and she's making dinner for us."
You shake your head aggressively, not happy with the situation. Max keeps talking as if nothing happened on the remainder of the car ride. "Here we are." Max says happily as he turns onto the road leading to his childhood home. You see a lady waving on the stairs leading up to the large manor.
"Max, Y/N." She yells. "I'm so happy to finally meet you!"
"Mama!" Max runs to hug her.
He walks back to you to lead you up to his mother.
"Hi, I'm Y/N. It's a pleasure to meet you." You try to be nice to the woman and give off a positive impression.
"Hello, I'm Sophie, Max's mother. He has told me so much about you."
You give him a questioning look as you walk in. They give you a tour of the large house, and you can't help wondering what both Max and his mother are doing with such large houses when they live alone, excluding the guards of course.
"I hope you're hungry, I've made dinner!" Sophie tells you with a wide smile.
Sophie is one of the best cooks indeed, and you eat with a good appetite, much to her delight.
Sophie spends the rest of the dinner sharing awkward stories about Max. He buries his face in his hands in order to escape his mother's story about how he shot himself in the foot when he was 11. "And then, he stole his father's gun and ran away… Not knowing it was loaded." She explains.
You enjoy their company, and you can tell that Max has inherited his nice manners from his mother.
"Will you excuse me and Y/N for a moment, I'd like to show her the rose garden?" Max asks his mother.
Sophie nods and you take off outside, it's getting late and chilly, so Max offers his suit jacket to you. As you slowly walk towards the garden, Max creeps closer, wrapping his arm around your back and landing his hand on your hip.
"Your mother is lovely, Max." You look up at him.
"I know, and she seems to love you too."
When you reach the garden, he stops you. "I brought you here because I wanted to ask you to be my one and only for the rest of my life." He asks as he leans in, stopping only a few centimeters from you.
"W-what are you implying, Max?" You ask nervously, looking him straight in the eyes.
"I'm asking you to be my beloved. I want to make you my wife, the mother of my children. I want to grow old with you, and die by your side."
His words makes your stomach flutter. You can't help yourself anymore, you crash into his mouth and he very eagerly kisses you back.
"Max…" You moan, out of breath. "I think I like you."
He sighs. "I love you, Y/N, and I intend to make you love me too, but I understand if it takes time."
As you walk back up to the manor, Sophie is already standing at the stairs.
"We better leave, it's getting late." Max looks at his armwatch.
After saying your goodbyes and getting into the car, Max drives homeward.
His hand is glued to your thigh the whole way, squeezing it.
You feel yourself getting wetter by the second, and you press your legs together. Max must have noticed this, because he pries your legs open with his hand. He quickly slides his hand up to your heat before you have the chance to close your legs again.
"Mijn god, you're so wet already. And I haven't even done anything yet." Max gasps as he moves your thong to the side and slides his finger along your slit.
"Max, please."
"So pretty, begging for me like this. Are you mine, huh? Are you?" He asks.
"Please, please. I'm yours."
Max groans and stops the car at the first bus stop he can find.
"Get in the back." He commands. Luckily he brought the SUV, because there was plenty of space for you and him in the backseat.
"Come here, beautiful." He pulls your dress up to your hips as you slowly straddle him, taking care to not rip your dress.
"Just like that…" He whispers. "Don't be scared, I'm not going to hurt you." You can hear your own heart beating, and Max probably noticed too.
"Can I touch you… Like this?" He asks as he kneads your buttocks. All of a sudden, he gives your left asscheek a slap, making you yelp.
"Ouch! What was that for?" You raise your eyebrow.
"For making me wait so long." He whispers, feeling his breath on your face.
You enjoy him massaging your ass but you have another place that desperately needs some attention. You try to grind down on him to get some friction but when you do, he grabs your hips to hold you still. You groan, looking at him disapprovingly.
"What do you need, schat?"
"Need… Need you."
"Need… This?" He asks as his hand wanders to the sides, pulling your thong halfway down your legs and touching you where you need him most. His finger starts flicking your clit while he slowly and gently inserts a finger into your cunt, making you moan out. You feel your walls tightening around his finger deliciously, making him moan. You grind down on him while he adds another finger into your aching pussy. By curling his fingers, he quickly makes you scream out your orgasm. It was drawn out, warm, sweaty and stopping your breath. You collapse on him, making him chuckle.
"We need to continue the drive…" Max whispers in your ear when you've come down and your breath has steadied.
The rest of the car ride home, you spend looking at him, you study his features… His dark blonde ruffled hair, big puffy lips, delicious thighs, blue eyes, and his beautiful soul. Deep down, you knew he was good, he was just brought into the wrong family and upbringing.
Were you falling for him? Absolutely. Helplessly, shamelessly.
When he parks in front of the house, he walks over to your side and pulls you into his arms, carrying you inside.
"I was hoping you'd sleep with me tonight…" He looks down on you.
"If you promise not to snore." You smile up at him. He bursts out laughing at your shenanigans.
"You're allowed to kick me off the bed if I do…" He softly replies as he walks up the stairs.
The guards are smart enough to stop in their tracks at the stairs, leaving you completely alone with Max.
"Why does this feel like some sort of wedding night?" You whisper.
"Does it? Are you nervous?" He looks at you with worry in his eyes.
"Yes… I mean no. I mean… Uh, maybe a little?"
"Don't worry, liefje. You're okay." He whispers back in your ear.
By the time you reach the bedroom, his lips are on yours in a delicious and heated kiss. He lets you down from his arms but as soon as your legs reach the floor his hands are on your hips, swaying you from side to side.
"Would you like to dance?" He asks.
"I can't dance…." You look down in embarrassment.
"Everyone can dance." He huffs and walks up to a stereo hidden in his wardrobe. The songs on the old CD give off the exact atmosphere Max wanted. He walks up to you and grabs your hands, leading you to the middle of the room. He lifts your right hand up slightly and places his other hand on your hip, swinging you from side to side to the music. He leans down and rests his head on your shoulder, letting out a deep sigh.
"You won't believe the effect you have on me, Y/N." He mumbles.
You hum and keep slow dancing. When Max lifts his head, he puts his hands on either side of your face and leans in to kiss you. The kiss was heated and turned into a makeout session. You feel your knees becoming weak and Max grabs you to hold you upright. He gives you a tiny nudge to take a couple of steps back and when you feel the edge of the bed behind your legs you collapse on top of it.
Max takes a moment to admire you as you lift yourself on your elbows and pout your lips. He hovers over you, picking your legs up on the way.
"Is this fine? I don't want to hurt you." He asks and you nod as an answer. How in the fuck is this man a mafia boss? You had never been with a man this caring.
He unzips your zipper and slides the dress down your body with your help. The sight he's met with was like something from a wet dream. You, with a naked chest, in front of him lying in his bed. He slips your dress off, pulling your thong off along with it.
"So fijn…" He coos as his hands wander on your body. When his hands land on your bare chest you look up at his wide eyes. Your hands reach for his, grabbing them and holding your breasts with him. You gasp at the feeling of his rugged hands on you sliding along your sides, finding their way lower down. He leans into your heat, giving your clit a light kiss, looking at you for permission to dive in. As soon as you nod, he sticks his tongue out and tastes you. The taste makes him moan out loud. He's sure the guards downstairs can hear his sounds but he doesn't care at the moment.
"Taste so good, princess." He says as he laps his tongue around your clit and down to your pulsating hole, teasing it with his tongue. He continues eating you out as his finger works wonders on your clit. You try to cum quietly but you're unable to when Max sucks your clit into his mouth while adding two fingers into your sopping cunt.
You announce your orgasm, "I'm cumming!" and grab a hold of Max's hair to bring him impossibly closer as you cum all over his face.
"My turn." Max growls and pulls you up on your knees, as he quickly pulls his pants down to his knees. You see the outline of his dick in his underwear. You get the hint and pull his briefs down, and his cock springs out, making your mouth water. It was above average but not too big. He had more girth than length, and the head was pink and… puffy? For lack of a better word.
You instinctively open your mouth and stick your tongue out, giving max full access to your mouth. He doesn't waste a second and sticks his cock into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat instantly. You gag, but he doesn't stop. He wasn't rough per se, he was still attentive and stopped when you started struggling.
"Taking me so well…" He breathes out as he pushes himself into your gape again.
"Do you think you're ready to take my cock?" He asks.
You let his length go with a pop and nod.
He positions you under him, with your legs placed on his shoulders. "Do we need to use protection?" He asks.
"I'm clean and I've got an IUD."
"Good, let me know if I'm too rough."
And with that, he slides his cock through your lips and teases your entrance. Finally, his tip finds its way home, and you yelp out at the feeling of the intrusion. He slowly pushes his whole length into you while you try to breath through the feeling of him stretching you out. He gives you a break for you to adjust to his size.
"You okay?" He checks in.
"Yeah… Please move."
Max slides his length out, leaving only the tip inside of you, and pistons his way inside of you again.
"Oh god… So big." You moan.
He chuckles and increases the pace. You can't help yourself, and moan out in pure enjoyment.
"Shhhh…" He shushes you, putting his hand over your mouth.
He increases the pace even further and you squeeze your eyes shut in another toe-curling orgasm. Max doesn't stop though, and continues destroying your dripping pussy.
"Come here…" He pulls you up and you watch him lie down.You get the hint and get on top. You grab his dick and guide it to your entrance. At this point, you're so wet that it slides in without any resistance.
You start riding his cock at a slow pace, making Max grunt in desperation. He grabs your hips, trying to set a quicker pace but you're having none of it. You slap his hands away and continue at your own pace.
Your pace quickens when you feel Max twitching in you, spilling his seed inside your pussy. He groans out every last drop that he has to give and pulls you down to his chest, peppering your face with kisses as you giggle at his antics.
"I love you." He admits as he stares into your eyes with a warmness in his eyes, something that you hadn't seen before.
When you part, he studies your pussy as his cum drips out, playing with it and stuffing it inside of you again.
You're exhausted after the nights activities and you collapse on the bed, falling asleep within a minute.
You're awakened by birds chirping and chattering. Your vision is blurry but you see the outline of Max on the other side of the bed. You stretch your body and hum happily, having last night's happenings fresh in your mind.
"Come here, Max… It's too early to be up."
It wasn't, but you'd gotten used to sleeping in over the last couple of months.
"Good morning, mijn schat." He coos as he walks over to you, kneeling on the bed. He gives you a quick peck before he pulls on your arm carefully, encouraging you to get up while you grunt, still plagued by exhaustion. "I guarantee pancakes if you get up." You look up at him and spring up from bed, suddenly not feeling tired at all anymore.
When you're done with your morning routine, you walk out of the bathroom and see Max getting dressed, with his back to you. You're shocked to see 5 small dents on his back, making you walk closer to inspect. As you trace your hand along his strong back muscles, he tense up.
"Stop that, Y/N." Max asks sternly.
"Why?" You tease.
"I said stop it!" He turns around and grabs your hands, holding them in his strong hold.
You yelp. "You're hurting me!"
As soon as he hears that, he immediately lets you go. His change in mood makes you take a few steps back in fear.
"I'm so sorry, liefje… I just c-"
"Don't touch me." You warn him holding your pointer finger up.
"Please, let me explain. I'm sure you can guess what those marks are. You see, Y/N, I'm not proud of what I am. Those marks remind me of what a monster I really am."
Your heart melts when you hear the man in front of you talk that way about himself. The usually so hard and masculine man is suddenly small and showing emotion. You see his eyes watering, looking fondly at you.
"Oh, Max…" You walk up and hug him, while he hugs you back with a tight grip.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you." He sobs into your shoulder.
"I know, I know." You comfort him. You lead him to the bed, making him lie down while you lie down on top of him, grounding the man.
After lying like that for what feels like a minute but surely was more like 10 minutes, Max lifts you up, smiling.
"Thank you, mijn schat. You're so kind to me, despite my flaws. Now, didn't I just promise you pancakes?"
You get up and strut down to the kitchen, smiling and laughing, happy with the fact that Max was making you one of your favourite breakfast dishes. In the end, you had to give him some assistance, men are bad at multitasking, but you didn't mind at all. The teamwork made them taste even better.
The guards are no where to be seen so you and Max get to enjoy your breakfast in piece on the porch, enjoying the view over his garden.
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leathergallery · 4 months ago
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p0orbaby · 4 months ago
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A Drop in the Ocean
summary: you buy barça for alexia
warnings: none
a/n: requested on the back of a similar one i wrote
word count: 1.5k
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You don’t even think about it anymore, the money. The commas and zeros stopped meaning anything the moment they started adding up faster than you could count. You don’t remember exactly when it happened, just that it did. One day you were checking the balances on your brokerage account religiously, watching the stock tickers on your phone at breakfast, and then at some point—probably after that second meeting in Geneva or maybe the fourth trip to Dubai—you stopped caring altogether. The accounts became endless, infinite, numbers that only existed on a screen and held no weight in the real world. You could buy anything, do anything. You do.
You’ve bought Barcelona FC. For Alexia.
It wasn’t a particularly difficult purchase, and that’s what bothers you, how easy it was. You’d made a few calls, orchestrated a few backroom meetings with men in navy-blue suits who wear Patek Philippe watches but don’t know how to spell "integrity," and within weeks, it was done. The club—one of the most storied institutions in world football—was now, for all intents and purposes, yours. They were failing in every department that mattered, so it wasn’t hard to make them see reason. The board was crumbling under its own corruption and incompetence anyway, the men in charge having long ago stopped caring about anything other than their own salaries. They saw the numbers you offered and couldn’t sign the dotted lines fast enough.
You’re sitting in the back of your Bentley Bentayga—the V8 model because the W12 felt too much, like gilding the lily—watching the city of Barcelona pass by in blurred streaks of sunlight and shadows. You don’t drive yourself anymore; it’s not that you’ve forgotten how, but why would you bother when you can pay someone to do it for you? You’re sipping on an iced Americano from a local coffee roaster that isn’t La Colombe but isn’t Starbucks either—because Starbucks is for tourists and people who don’t care what real coffee tastes like—and tapping your thumb against the cool glass, counting down the minutes until you get home. Home isn’t the place you grew up, or even the first penthouse you bought in Barcelona—God, you’ve already sold that one off—but the sprawling villa in the hills that overlooks the city like a predator watching its prey.
You’d bought the house because Alexia liked it. You had taken her to see it on a whim, even though you knew you’d buy it regardless of her opinion. But she’d loved it, her eyes lighting up in that way they do when she’s genuinely moved by something, not when she’s just being polite or trying to please you. It’s rare, that reaction, and you’ve noticed it only happens when she’s either on the pitch or somewhere quiet, somewhere she can breathe. It makes you feel something, a tightness in your chest, almost a panic, like the world’s collapsing in on itself, but in a good way. If there even is a good way for that to happen.
Your phone buzzes, vibrating against the buttery-soft leather of your seat. You glance at it and see it’s a text from her.
Training's over. Home soon?
You smile, the kind of smile that makes the people around you uneasy, because they never know if it’s genuine or not. It is, but it’s small, fleeting, like everything in your life that isn't Alexia.
On my way. You send the reply quickly, almost too quickly, like you’re not supposed to care that much. But you do. You always do.
You met Alexia when you were young—stupid young—back when you still believed that success was something you had to fight for. She was everything you weren’t: grounded, focused, humble. Even now, with all the accolades and the Ballon d'Ors and the fanfare, she still feels *real* in a way you don’t anymore. She still eats cereal for breakfast sometimes, not some overpriced organic granola shipped in from the Swiss Alps. She’ll sit on the sofa in her sweatpants and watch trashy reality TV with you, her feet in your lap, like the world outside doesn’t exist. Like she’s not the face of women’s football, the woman everyone wants to be. You want to be her too, sometimes.
But then you remember: she’s yours. And you’re the one with the power, the one pulling the strings now. You’re the one who’s going to fix everything for her.
You think about the RFEF, the Royal Spanish Football Federation, and how utterly revolting they are, how they’ve mishandled everything about the women’s game. It makes you angry, but not in the way normal people get angry, not in that quick, fleeting way. Your anger is cold, calculated, the kind of anger that doesn’t make itself known until it’s too late. You’d called in favours—favours you didn’t even know you had—and now you’re restructuring the whole thing from the inside out. The old guard, the men who’ve spent years belittling and undermining women’s football, will be gone soon, and they don’t even see it coming. You’ll replace them with people who actually care, people who understand what’s at stake.
Alexia doesn’t know yet. She doesn’t need to. She already carries enough weight on her shoulders; you see it in the way she moves, the subtle slump in her posture after a long day. She’s been fighting this fight for years, but you can take it from here. You’ll make sure she never has to fight again.
When you finally pull up to the villa, the sky is turning that particular shade of burnt orange that only seems to exist in Spain. The driver opens your door, and you step out, the sound of your Louboutins clicking against the cobblestone driveway. You’re wearing something understated but expensive—a cream-coloured silk blouse from The Row, tailored trousers that cost more than most people’s monthly rent, and a watch that could fund a small country’s healthcare system for a year. You’ve always preferred quiet luxury, the kind of wealth that doesn’t scream but whispers, softly, in the background. Alexia likes that about you. At least, you think she does.
You walk through the front door—minimalist, custom-made, imported from Italy—and the scent of jasmine fills your lungs. Alexia’s perfume. She’s here.
You find her in the living room, sprawled out on the sofa, her legs up on the coffee table, still in her training kit. Her hair is pulled back in a messy ponytail, strands falling loose around her face. She’s scrolling through her phone, probably reading up on whatever the media is saying about the latest match, and she looks up when you walk in. There’s that smile again, the one that makes everything else disappear for a moment, just a moment, but long enough to matter.
“Hey,” she says, her voice soft, like it’s only meant for you.
You cross the room and sit next to her, pulling her legs into your lap, your fingers automatically tracing circles on her shins. You don’t say anything for a while, because neither of you needs to. The silence between you is comfortable, familiar, the kind of silence that only comes when two people have been through everything together and still come out on the other side.
“I bought the club,” you say, casually, like you’re talking about picking up milk from the store.
Alexia looks at you, her eyes widening for a second before she catches herself. She’s good at that, at pretending nothing surprises her, but you know her well enough to see through it.
“You did what?” she asks, her tone somewhere between disbelief and amusement.
“I bought Barcelona,” you repeat, leaning back against the cushions. “They were fucking it all up, especially with the women’s team. I’m fixing it. For you”
She doesn’t respond immediately, and you can see the gears turning in her head, trying to process what you’ve just said. It’s not that she doesn’t believe you; she does. It’s just…a lot.
“You didn’t have to do that,” she says finally, but there’s no conviction in her voice. She knows as well as you do that you don’t *have* to do anything. You want to.
“I did,” you reply, your voice firm. “Because they don’t care about you. Not like I do”
She looks at you for a long moment, and you can see the conflict in her eyes, the push and pull of wanting to argue but knowing there’s no point. You’ve already made up your mind. You always have.
“Thank you,” she says eventually, and the sincerity in her voice catches you off guard. You’re used to people thanking you, sure, but it’s always perfunctory, transactional. This is different. This is real.
You lean in and kiss her, slow and soft, and for a moment, everything is perfect. You don’t think about the money or the power or the corruption you’ve spent years navigating. You don’t think about the board meetings or the backroom deals or the restructuring of the RFEF. You just think about her, and how she’s the only thing that makes any of it worth it.
When you pull back, she’s smiling, and it’s that smile again—the one that makes your chest tighten and your heart race in a way that nothing else does. Not even the money.
“Let’s go fix everything,” you say, and for the first time in a long time, you feel like maybe, just maybe, you already have.
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pucksandpower · 8 months ago
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Achilles Come Down
Charles Leclerc x soft dom!Reader
Summary: sometimes you have to take control to get Charles out of his own head
Warnings: 18+ content
Based on this request with some little hints here and there that the reader is Charles’ race engineer (inspired by him getting a new race engineer all of a sudden in real life)
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The garage is eerily quiet as you make your way towards Charles’ driver’s room, the usual buzz of activity muted in the wake of his DNF. His familiar red race suit is marred by streaks of oil and rubber, a physical reminder of the mechanical failure that ended his race prematurely.
Charles stalks ahead of you, his body taut with frustration. You can practically see the negative thoughts racing through his mind, the self-recrimination and second-guessing he’s so prone to despite the circumstances being completely out of his control.
“Charles, wait up,” you call out, struggling to match his clipped pace. He pauses with his hand on the door handle, jaw clenched.
“What is there to say, Y/N? My race is over before it could even properly begin.” The defeat in his voice cuts you deeply.
“This wasn’t your fault,” you insist, placing a gentle hand on his arm. “A rear brake malfunction is out of your hands.”
He shrugs you off, throat bobbing with repressed emotion. “I’m the one behind the wheel. I should have sensed something was wrong, made adjustments ...”
“You can’t control every little thing on that car, no matter how talented you are,” you interrupt firmly. “Sometimes factors outside your control are going to screw things up. Dwelling on it won’t change that.”
Charles lets out a harsh exhale, raking frustrated fingers through his sweat-dampened curls. “Easy for you to say. It’s not your championship hopes slipping away with every botched race.”
You resist the urge to snap back, knowing his irritability stems from disappointment rather than any real malice towards you. Taking a calming breath, you change tacks.
“Okay, let’s go inside and get you out of that suit at least,” you suggest in a gentler tone. “We can debrief the data after you’ve had a chance to reset.”
Charles hesitates, chewing on his full lower lip in an unconscious gesture of indecision. You frame his face with your hands, forcing him to meet your gaze.
“Trust me, baby. Let me take care of you for once.”
The rigidity finally seeps from his stance as he gives a jerky nod of acquiescence. You push open the door and usher him inside, the familiar smells of his favorite Dior cologne and heat-weathered leather enveloping you both.
Once the door clicks shut, blocking out the distractions of the paddock, you move in close to begin unzipping Charles’ kinetic race suit. He stands stiffly as you peel away each layer until he’s stripped down to just his snug fireproof undershirt and shorts.
Running soothing hands over his tense shoulders and neck, you knead at the knots of muscles corded there. A low exhale shudders from Charles’ lips as some of the pent-up stress bleeds out of his frame.
“That’s it, let it all go,” you murmur. “Your only job now is to relax and let me take over for once.”
“Yes ma’am,” he mumbles, the barest ghost of a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.
You circle around to face him again, hands roaming over the lean muscles of his chest and abs through the thin fabric. Leaning in, you capture his lips in a deep, probing kiss, slanting your mouth over his again and again until his tension fully dissolves and he melts into your touch.
“Better?” You ask with a quirked brow as you finally pull back, taking in his dazed expression.
“Getting there,” Charles replies, pupils already blown wide with arousal. He surges forward to recapture your lips hungrily.
You allow him to control the heated kiss for a few indulgent moments before taking charge once more, pushing firmly against his chest until the backs of his thighs hit the edge of the sleek, ultra-modern sofa. He flops back with a breathless chuckle as you crawl over him, straddling his waist and rocking your hips against his in a pointed grind.
“Just relax and let me handle this,” you rasp against the hinge of his jaw, relishing the full-body shudder that wracks his frame.
Your hands deftly slip beneath the hem of his undershirt, pushing it up and over his head to expose his toned upper body before latching your lips to the hollow of his throat. Charles tips his head back in blissful surrender as you lavish hot, openmouthed kisses along the thunderous pulse point and down the sculpted grooves of his chest.
His hands struggle to find purchase as your mouth trails lower still, tracing nonsensical patterns through the trial of hair. Every swirl of your tongue is deliberate, thorough, a reminder to him to stay grounded in the present moment, focused solely on the exquisite sensations you’re lavishing upon his body.
You pause with your face hovering inches above the waistband of his shorts, reveling in the pure want burning in Charles’ lust-darkened gaze as he watches you through his veil of tousled chestnut curls. Hooking your fingers into the stretchy material, you ease it down, never breaking that heated eye contact.
Charles is already achingly hard, hips twitching upwards in search of some kind of delicious friction. You blow a teasing stream of air over his length, relishing the way he squirms and lets out a guttural moan. Only then do you take him fully into your mouth, swirling your tongue around the velvety crown before sinking down in one smooth glide.
“F-Fuck ...” Charles’ head thrashes against the armrest as his hands scrabble uselessly at the supple leather, trying and failing to find purchase. You hum in satisfaction around your mouthful, the vibrations jolting through him with dizzying intensity.
Knowing he’s dangerously close already, you ease off with one last lingering lick. Charles whines in protest, hips canting upwards to chase that incredible heat and suction. But rather than continuing with your talented mouth, you throw one lean leg over his body to straddle his hips once more.
Charles swallows hard as you reach behind to unclasp your lacy bra, shrugging it off your shoulders and allowing it to puddle onto the floor. He tracks the motion with rapt attention, fingers twitching with the overwhelming need to touch.
Before he can make a move, you halt him with a stern look and guiding hand wrapped around his wrist. “Nuh-uh, I’m in charge here, remember?”
Charles makes a thin, desperate sound but complies, allowing you to pin both wrists above his head. His chest heaves with each shuddering inhale as he watches you shimmy out of your skin tight jeans with your core hovering just above his straining length.
Then, maintaining that heated eye contact, you sink down unbearably slowly until he’s sheathed fully inside you. Charles’ mouth drops open in a low keen as you begin to move in an unhurried grind, savoring each delicious inch.
“You feel that?” You rasp, leaning down to capture his plush bottom lip between your teeth. “You’re not alone in this, baby. I’ve got you.”
Charles nods frantically, hips jerking upwards in a broken rhythm to chase that incredible friction. You release his wrists in favor of framing his face, anchoring him to this intense connection amid the swirling sensations.
“Don’t think about the race or the championship,” you order in a low murmur. “There’s only you and me, here and now. Got it?”
“Yes ...” Charles moans in affirmation as your pace picks up the tiniest bit, guiding him closer and closer to that blissful edge.
Perspiration sheens over both your bodies, slick skin sliding together in an intoxicating glide. His hands roam hungrily over every inch of you, mapping each sculpted curve and plane like a long-cherished map. You snake one hand between your joined bodies to stroke him in counterpoint to your rolling undulations, determined to shatter him into a million ecstatic pieces.
Charles’ breath grows increasingly ragged, each strangled cry of pleasure driving you higher towards your own shattering peak. “Look at me,” you demand, cupping his stubbled jaw. His glassy emerald eyes lock onto yours obediently. “I’m all that matters right now.”
He shudders beneath you, mouth dropping open in a choked groan as his orgasm slams into him with full force. You bear down harder, chasing your own release to the soundtrack of his gasping whimpers. White-hot pleasure detonates through your nerve endings, leaving you breathless and trembling in its wake.
Collapsing bonelessly atop him, you nuzzle against the slick hollow of his throat, placing a tender kiss over his pulse as you both struggle to catch your breath. Charles’ arms envelop you, his frame still quivering with aftershocks.
“Better?” You murmur against his salted skin, unable to resist a teasing smirk.
A breathless laugh huffs from his lips. “So much better. I ...” He pauses, seeming to search for the right words. “Thank you, mon ange. For not letting me spiral.”
“Always,” you vow simply, tilting your head to capture his lips in a deep, searing kiss. When you finally break apart, his eyes are warm and clear, no longer clouded by that self-destructive darkness.
A tender smile tugs at the corners of your mouth as you brush back the damp chestnut curls from his forehead. In this quiet moment, with his body and soul laid bare before you, you know the roles have switched once more. He’s gone from race driver to simply Charles — your Charles — and you’ll protect that brilliant light within him with everything you have.
“We can debrief the data later,” he murmurs, mirroring your earlier words with a contented grin. “For now, I just want to stay right here with you.”
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https-murdock · 4 months ago
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Love Like This - Matt Murdock
summary: Matt has never felt anything like this, never mind a love like this.
word count: ~1k
warnings: porn with plot (finally!!) - oral (F receiving), p in v, suuuper lovey dovey stuff - 18+ MDNI
note: felt like writing something super loved up! hope it’s ok :))
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Matt often wonders how someone with a heart like yours has fallen for someone with a heart like his.
When he comes home from work and smells you. Sitting on his couch, he knows you have your eyes glued to the tv by the way you don’t even realise he’s walked in.
“Hi, sweetheart.” He smirks, glasses and cane placed in his usual spot.
“Oh, hey! sorry i got really invested again.” You’re laughing now, and he can feel the vibrations through his chest.
There has always been something about you that made Matt feel like the world would heal again. The way you laughed, the way you grab his arm when he makes a good joke, the way you hum to yourself while you clean - everything, right down to the way your breathing hitches slightly in your dreams. There was always something about you that Matt just got.
“You know how much i love you, right?” He says, tie now across the back of the couch, few buttons undone, as he sits next to you with one arm around you. “Course i do. and you know how much i love you?” You’re very aware of how soppy you’d sound to other people, but these moments come rarely with Matt so you take them as they come.
You move to straddle him on his couch, holding his stubbled cheeks in your hands as he smiles up at you.
“I do.”
Matt’s lips meet yours in a loving, gentle moment - and it almost makes you wonder what has made him so lovey today. He always loves you, and he’s no stranger in showing you that, but it’s not often he’s so open about his feelings.
As the kiss is becoming deeper, tongues meeting, his hands move under the t-shirt of his that adorns your skin nearly every night.
“Mmm, so beautiful,” He mutters to himself, lifting your t-shirt over your head and letting your fingers work across the buttons of his suit shirt, “Can never get enough of you.”
“Need you.” You speak, lips still attached to his.
Tough hands flip you onto your back, leather couch sticking to the slight sheen of sweat against your skin. Now only in underwear, you feel much more exposed than him. “Matt, need to see you, please.” You smile, and he doesn’t even reply before taking off his shirt and undoing his belt, letting his suit pants fall to the floor with the rest of your clothing.
“Wanna make you feel so good, sweetheart.” Matt whispers, leaning down and letting his nose meet your naked thigh, biting gently and relishing in the muted moan that leaves your lips.
Silently, you sit begging for his touch, only hearing your breaths between each other. He knows what you want, what you need, but he’s just existing in the moment.
“H- Shit.” Words have now left you, as he licks a long stripe up your folds, leaving you breathless at his touch, “Taste so good.” Matt talks between your thighs, running his tongue in circles around your clit.
All thoughts leave your mind, your body the only thing existing with the way it feels under Matt’s touch. His hands hold your wrists down at the side of your body, feeling how tense your arms become when you can feel an orgasm building,
“Always so wet, all for me, love.” He smirks, letting his teeth graze your clit softly, before going right back to his little kitten licks. All that can be heard in his loft is your breathy moans, Matt relishing in the way you sound each time he touches you.
Before you know it, you’re right on the edge of the point you desperately need to tip over, and you’re begging for more. “M- Please, fuck i’m-“ You’re well aware you don’t make much sense, but all you care about is the way his mouth is making you feel. “Come for me, sweetheart.”
His deep, growling voice was all you needed to fly across the line. Hearing muffled, your back arches off Matt’s sofa, his hands moving to your hips as his mouth doesn’t slow down, leading you through your orgasm.
“Matt, fuck me.” You mumble, pins and needles still running through your fingertips from your erratic breathing.
“Patience, love.” He giggles, standing up to strip himself of his boxers before sitting down with his back to the couch. As you straddle him again, you think of all the memories you share and the nights spent on his sofa together.
As you sink down onto him, his head falls to your shoulder, groaning to himself about how right you feel around him, “Always wrap around me so well.” his hands graze up your skin, meeting both of your tits, thumbs running across your nipples as he listens to how fast it sends your heart rate.
“M- Feel so good, so good.” You babble, bouncing softly up and down, feeling how deep he’s reaching inside your walls.
The way your slick is slowly hitting the base of his cock is sending Matt’s brain wild, the feeling of you so tightly around him making him realise how he fell so in love with you so quickly, everything about you feels amazing.
“Ahh- keep going, beautiful.” He realises it sounds like he’s begging, and maybe he is.
“Please, come inside me.” You’re now doing the same, letting his thumb meet your clit, rubbing tight circles craving the way it feels for you to finish around him once more.
You both come together, lips tensely meeting, teeth clashing. A throaty groan comes from Matt as his hips falter, feeling the way you clench around him as thick white ropes paint your walls.
Once you’ve both cooled off, cleaned up as per Matt, you finally get to sit down and talk about the day.
“Hmm, doesn’t matter.” he mutters, lying back in the bed with you on his chest, breathing returned back to normal.
“What matters then? i wanna know ‘bout your day.” You laugh, leaning upwards to look at the way he’s sitting, eyes closed, fully relaxed in the sheets.
“You.”
tags
@lambmurdock @parker-murdock @silas-aeiou @blushingrn @audreyclimbs
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csainzsgirly · 4 months ago
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Pleaaaseee a drabble with the way Lando was sitting with his suit zipped down in the press conference? x
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Your soft laugh echoed through his room in the McLaren hospitality when he took you down onto the sofa with him. Lando sat back against the leather, happy his media duties were over, and he had just a couple of seconds to slip away from the heat, the journalists, the many other people and be with you. Even if it were just a couple of minutes. He was expected in the briefing room soon anyway, but he was happy to have you with him, especially now you were seated in his lap. "I'm so proud of you, baby," you smile at him, your fingers caressing his cheek, the helmet lines still prominent in his skin after the hot qualifying session. Your praise went straight to his cock, goosebumps rising upon his skin at the soft tone of your voice.
"Did it impress you, huh?" he asked, sucking his lower lip between his teeth and biting down on it as his eyes raked over your figure, the linnen pants that were fitting you so well, that were pulling taut around the thighs he loved to spend time between, and the globes off your ass, which was driving him crazy. "You always impress me," you reply with a purr, causing his cock to stir underneath the black fireproofs he was wearing. Your warm hands wandered down his chest, his eyes holding yours while your fingers travelled further south, riding up the black material to find his abs. Lando took a shaky breath as he watched you zip his racing overall further down, your hand slipping inside, touching his sensitive skin before it came in contact with his veiny cock.
"Oh ff..." Lando bit back a grunt as your hand wrapped around him under his suit, right between your legs and where you were straddling him. "I'm not going to fucking last," he muttered, looking at you through hooded lids as your hand twisted around his cock, squeezing the sensitive head a little while your thumb rubbed over the slit to spread the small beads of pre-cum. Lando let his head fall back against the sofa, his eyelids fluttering close as his abdomen tensed while your hand jerked his fat cock, much rather having it inside you, but there was no time for that now. He growled when your lips brushed over his jaw, peppering kisses on his muscled neck, tasting the salty skin and breathing in his musky scent. His hips bucked upwards when he started to get close.
He melted in your hand, his eyebrows furrowing together with pleasure as the shivers ran up his spine. "So good to me," he muttered, swallowing a moan when his body tensed in the best way possible. His cum coated your hand when you slowed down the pace of your hand, feeling him pulse against your palm when you twisted it at the top of his cock. Lando opened his eyes to look at you, his hand finding the slope of your neck to bring you down for a kiss. You withdrew your hand from inside his suit, tucking him back in and zipping it up slightly. You pulled back from his mouth so he could watch how you licked his cum from your fingers. "You're cruel for letting me walk around like this in a bit," Lando said, looking down at the mess made underneath his racing overall.
"You can let me clean it later," you said with a sweet smile, kissing his lips before getting off his lap, not missing the way his eyes darkened.
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ladykailitha · 9 months ago
Text
The Rockstar and the Teacher
Just thinking about a rockstar Eddie and a school teacher Steve who have been together for a decade, but Steve is kept out of the limelight by his choice.
He doesn't want to have his kids harassed because of who he's dating. Plus the whole gay man= pedophile in the minds of most parents.
Things are going great until they aren't.
Steve sees a tabloid with the headline "Eddie Munson photographed outside local bar with boyfriend, hints there may be a spring wedding!" and he's furious. Like seeing red, pissed off.
Because the guy next to Eddie is not Steve.
Whoever he is, he's dressed the same as Eddie. Leather jacket, long hair, chains everywhere.
But he barely has time to get worked up because even though Eddie had been in LA working on the band's next album, he is bursting through their house in Hawkins's door.
Eddie skids to a stop when he sees the tabloid on their kitchen counter and holds up his hands.
"I'm sorry, baby," he mutters and Steve chokes back tears, "I was trying to get home before you saw that."
"Why would you do that to me?" Steve cries.
Eddie slowly pulls out his phone like he's getting it out for a cop and hands it over to Steve, who takes it with a frown.
"It's not me, sweetheart," Eddie says. "I can prove it."
Steve looks at the phone and it instantly opens to Steve's face.
Eddie can see the hope spark in Steve's eyes as he looks through Eddie's phone.
Text message after text message about Eddie planning on getting Steve a necklace with both of their initials on it from Steve's favorite jewelry designer.
Eddie's phone pinging him at a nearby bar, but not the one the photo is showing him coming out of at the time it was taken.
Then the final evidence. A fan photo of Eddie and the girl taking a picture just outside of it the other bar at the time other Eddie was supposedly getting his picture taken with his "boyfriend".
"My management and PR team are on it, Stevie," Eddie tells him. "We think it was a setup from the jewelry guy. He lured me to the bar so that they could stage the pap photo."
Steve frowns at the phone in his hand, his fingers gripping it so tightly that his knuckles go white.
"Why?"
Eddie runs his hands over his face. "Honestly?" Steve nods. "To get you to come out in the public eye."
Steve looks at the phone and then back at the paper on the counter. Eddie can see his heart sink.
"I'm sorry," Steve murmurs. "I've been selfish. If I had just gone to LA with you been your partner all of the time, this wouldn't have happened."
Eddie takes Steve's face in his hands. "You are my partner all of the time. Even when we're apart. You weren't being selfish. You had just gotten your degree when we made it big. You wanted to use what you had paid for, and rightly so. This is on them, not you. Never you!"
Steve lets out a shuddered breath and then nods. "Okay."
He lets out another breath and Eddie smiles as Steve straightens his shoulders and cracks his knuckles.
"Give me two hours and I'll have this sorted."
Eddie doesn't doubt it.
****
Two hours later, Steve comes out in a beautiful cream suit and silver mesh top.
Eddie looks up from his place on the sofa and licks his lips slowly. He had been messaging Chrissy, his manager while Steve was doing whatever it was in his office.
"Wow, baby you look good enough to eat."
Steve grins. "It's a good thing you're hungry because we're going out to dinner."
Eddie stands up quickly and puts a hand on Steve's waist. "Are you sure you want to do this? We don't have to. We're already suing everyone for defamation of character and libel."
Steve grinned. "Oh yeah. I've already spoken to Robin and Chrissy and they're onboard."
"K, baby."
****
They arrive at the restaurant and they sit in Eddie's little two seater.
"Last chance, Stevie," Eddie said, looking out at the waiting reporters. "Just say the word and we'll go somewhere more secluded."
Steve shakes his head. "Let's do this."
Eddie gives his hand a squeeze and gets out first.
"Eddie! Eddie!" one reporter calls out. "What do you have to say about that picture in The Sun?"
"That's not me," he says calmly. "That's not my boyfriend. I would never cheat on him that way."
Then a burst of questions asking about his real boyfriend as he moves around the car to open the other door.
Steve steps out looking like sex on legs. But also like nothing anyone pegged as Eddie's boyfriend.
Eddie kisses his hand and Steve blushes.
Suddenly all the questions are directed at Steve, asking if he's the boyfriend? How long have they been dating? What's his name?
Steve just bats his eyelashes and says quite clearly, "I would ask you to respect our privacy during this trying time."
BOOM!
Mic drop.
The reporters clam up, the cameras stop flashing as they stare at him in open mouthed shock.
Eddie swoops in and gives Steve the biggest kiss. And the only reason it was even caught on camera was because the video camera hadn't stopped rolling.
They go inside and Steve gets two messages on his phone and Eddie asks if he's going to look at them, but he shakes his head.
"It's probably just Robin wanting all the inside scoop."
So they finish their meal and walk back out to the valet, hand in hand. It's then when Steve pulls out his phone. He was right about the first message, the second one was from a private number and merely said:
-Ben fatto, mio caro*
Steve smiles and kisses the the screen before tucking his phone back in his pocket.
As they drive home, Eddie asks about the texts.
"Just my mom telling me she was proud of me in the only way she could."
Mrs. Sophia Harrington was too conceited to send him anything directly, especially since Clint Harrington had cut Steve off years ago due to him being gay. But she could send a single message from a private number that she would never use again, to let her son know that she was proud at how well he had handled the reporters.
Eddie just smiles and they drive home in comfortable silence.
****
Steve goes to work the next morning and stops in at the principal's office. He smiles when he realizes the press hasn't figured out who he is yet. But it will only be a matter of time and he knows it.
The principal holds up a printed copy of his resignation and demands to know the meaning of it.
So Steve tells him.
"Steve..." the principal whines when he's done.
"You know you're going to have parents banging down your door the second it gets out," Steve explains. "It's easier for me to just walk away now and not wait for you to have to fire me."
The principal sighs but agrees. "You'll be missed."
Steve nods and stands up. At least he'll have time to say goodbye to his kids.
By lunch time it's gotten around the school that he's leaving but not why.
Steve had sworn his kids to secrecy so everyone could say goodbye, but a couple of his students come and hang out with him at lunch to talk about it.
"I knew you had to someone cool," the one kid says. "You knew too much about Corroded Coffin to be lame ole Mr. Harrington."
Yeah, Steve isn't going to miss that one kid.
He makes it through the school day and some of the parents have setup an impromptu farewell party on the front lawn of the school.
It's a tearful goodbye, but Steve feels lighter as he makes his way to car with all his things, then he has in years.
****
The news breaks on who he is later that night and Steve doesn't envy the principal's headache tomorrow, but cuddled up with Robin and Eddie on his sofa, he really can't find it in himself to give a fuck.
They'll later go on the Tonight Show and talk about how Steve had been in the closet for years and how he was forced out by this stunt with the photo. He talks about how other celebrities had been forced out too and that apparently it's not just for famous people.
That because he was with a famous person that meant he had no rights either and how that has to start changing.
He's happy he's out now, but it should have been on his own terms and not the media's.
There ends up being a spring wedding, but just the following year as Eddie and Steve tie the knot, two beautiful rings on their hands and a dazzling necklace at Steve's throat with their new initials on it EM and SM.
There is a mysterious gift of two tickets to a private villa in Italy after their honeymoon that has them both grinning like fools.
****
Here's a little gay Italian Steve for you.
*Well done, my dear
Tag List: @mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03
@spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie
@chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @danili666
@goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog
@justforthedead89 @vecnuthy @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690
@anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon
@cinnamon-mushroomabomination @dragonmama76 @scheodingers-muppet @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt
@useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95
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defmaybe · 4 months ago
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What would this kkura do to you?
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The silk proving to be a thin and yet effective barrier, keeping you on the edge craving for her touch
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Up close all in your personal space, the scent of her body lotion is mesmerizing. That tummy, those shoulder ,all within your reach but you're not allowed to touch or sometimes even look at them.
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Her foot teasing your inner thighs, just to see your erection bulge uncontrollably
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And that outline certainly isn't helping...
She's going to give you a reward in the end right? Riiiight??
I'm one lustful individual, Frisky, here's a quickie lmao
Midnight Blues
LE SSERAFIM's Miyawaki Sakura x Male Reader
1k words
It’s mostly your moans, really, as Sakura grins under the soft light from your television playing some fuckass Netflix rom-com, eyes focused on your torture. You can’t quite pinpoint where it started, but it’s like you’d care with her feet rubbing on your clothed thighs, anyway.
She hasn’t taken her shower yet, still in the midnight blue leather dress she wore for her stage today. White streaks of light are painted on it, and sweat can still be seen on her face. The smell of her rosy lotion and exhaustion permeate the room.
You shift on the couch, letting out a frustrated groan, “S–Sakura, please.”
“No, baby, I have a title. Say it and I’ll do it.”
Her soles contacting the clothed your sensitive area are trying to pull the words back inside your needy, slutty throat. “M–Mis–,” is what you can choke out.
“Mis–what, baby boy?” She asks in a sultry voice, the edge of her toes grazing your sacks, giving some expectations of what’s coming.
“Mistress.”
She lunges at your pajamas’ waistband, pulling it off to reveal your raging erection in a swift motion.
“Hard already?” Sakura chuckles, before sinking back onto the leather couch. It cries as it rubs against her suit.
“Y–Yes, mistress–ngh!” She grabs your cock with her bare soles. She strokes you while being careful of her long nails.
The room is filled with your slutty moans under the ministration Sakura is giving you. It has always been her expertise, really. There was a high-speed incident where it left you with your semen on the dashboard—to which she tastefully cleaned it up. Or the other time in the first class, where you had to suppress your moans to avoid waking up the other fellow passengers. Good thing she had her mouth on your cock by the time it spills your essence.
“M–Mistress, you’re s–so good at this,” you whine, hands gripping the poor fabric of your sofa.
“Thank you, baby,” she responds with a giggle, biting her finger while doing so. Fuck, if the footjob isn’t so damn good, you’d have leap onto her right now. 
She ups the ante, rubbing your erection even quicker. And you can only moan out her name, “Mistress S–Sakura~,” as her heavenly dexterity continues to send electricity through you.
Again, she giggles at your pleasure. Her grip remains soft but tight on your length, at a moderato tempo. “Want me to go even faster, baby boy?”
“Y–Yes, mistress,” you reply in a haste.
She complies with your plea by speeding up her feet on your cock. Each stroke remains careful, yet so unrelenting at making you cum just for her, spreading your seed everywhere (but mostly, she prefers it inside her warm, welcoming mouth; she says that she loves your taste.)
“S–Sakura,” you say, trying to deliver something.
“Hey, my title, baby, remember?” Her voice laces with playful aggression, lower than it should be.
“No, I–I’m just gonna say t–that I love you, babe.” 
And Sakura beams at your words.
“Aww, that’s so sweet baby, I love you too. Still,—” she moves in her seat just a little, trying to accommodate the pace she’s giving on your digit. “—you’ll have to cum for me, so let’s do this, alright, baby?”
You gaze back at her busy feet, seeing her rubbing your cock like that just sends shivers through you, doesn’t it? “Y–Yes, Sakura.”
The tempo is fast; it’s enough to make a sound louder than whatever the characters in your television are moaning right now. You can feel your impending climax from afar. It’s there, it’s there.
Sakura is probably feeling your orgasm coming with the tensed thighs, “Gonna cum, baby?”
“I–I think I–I’m close, mistress.”
“Wanna see more of me before you’re there, baby? Consider this a small gift,” she asks, hands seeming to toy with the zipper at the back. “Well, it’s not small, really.”
You let out a small laugh with the moan as you sheepishly nod at her proposal.
“Alright, baby.” She then unzips her leather top, still putting an effort into rubbing your raging cock. She slowly peels it off, revealing more bare, porcelain skin of hers at each second—neck, collarbones, cleavage. And then there’s the main course—her supple chest that you’ve always loved. Fuck, she even wears nothing underneath her sheer top. They look so smooth, so mouthwatering. Her brown, salivating nipples sitting atop of them is the best part of it, really.
And as it comes undone, she tosses the garment away, giving you the view of her bouncing, delicate breasts at each stroke.
“M–Mistress,” you involuntarily utter.
“Well, I don’t mind you staring, baby.” She laughs.
And with a few more strokes, you can feel it—the impending climax. It builds up inside your lower stomach. It seeps within your body like a plague—one that you’d let it destroy you.
“I’m gonna cum, mistress,” you mutter.
She smiles, before lifting off her seat, sinking to her knees in front of you. And within a whim, she easily swallows your cock, eyes focused on the target. You can do fucking nothing but moan.
“Yes, baby, moan for me,” Sakura says with your length being inside her cavern. “Cum for me.”
It’s almost there. Your thighs tense up, your grip on the couch has never been tighter, so is the tightness of her mouth. Her cheeks are hollowing just for you, creating such empyrean suction none can compare. She bobs her head up and down to push you to it—the orgasm you’ve always wanted.
“S–Sakura,” you utter, before giving in to your orgasm.
You spill loads and loads inside her wanting mouth as her eyes roll upwards to meet yours—so lost in the throes of pleasure. Your hips rock at each spurt, making your flesh hitting the depths inside her cavern. She silently yelps at each hit, jaws locked by your slutty cock.
It slowly dissipates, and you’re panting along with the descent. She laughs with your cock still stuffed within her mouth, before slowly, agonizingly, pulling herself out of it. You groan at the drag.
“Hmm, tastes good as always, baby.” She pulls her tongue out—all clean, unstained. She fucking swallowed it all.
“I always taste good, babe.”
Sakura stands up, smiling. “Wanna cuddle?”
“Definitely… maybe, after round two.”
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ode-to-melpomene · 2 months ago
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hello mel!!! your jason todd x artist! reader is a real gem, so delicious i think i would like to eat it!!! could i possible request a jason todd x famous poet!reader?
Anon, you get me.
I struggled a bit with the plot for this one, but I hope you like it regardless <3
Erato
Pairing: Jason Todd x gn poet!reader Synopsis: Jason convinces you to take a break. Word Count: 1281. Warnings: Established relationship and fluff!
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The living room was dark. 
Blanketed in shadows, Red Hood stepped off the fire escape and into the apartment. Muscles taut, shoulders squared, jaw clenched tight beneath his helmet, he stalked with a panther’s grace through the shadows. Light on the balls of his feet, his heavy boots hardly made a sound against the floorboards of the creaky old Gotham apartment.
Red Hood kept his hand hovering inches from the gun on his waist as he stepped warily around the furniture. The white film obscuring his eyes trailed over the lamp atop an end table beside the familiar orange chaise sofa.
Something wasn’t right. It was so dark.
Filling the shadows with his presence, Red Hood slunk down the hallway. His broad figure filled the space, looming in the narrow hallway like a beast waiting to lunge from the darkness. His skin crawled with a sense of wrong, wrong, wrong. His teeth inched to sink into something. The scent of copper and gunpowder clung to his body armor, suffocating him as he inhaled it with each breath. His hackles rose.
There, at the end of the hall. The tiniest sliver of pale light filtered through the crack of an ajar door. Red Hood’s fingers twitched beside his gun, itching to reach for the grip that he knew fit so comfortably in the palm of his leather-clad hands.
Said hands, dirty and tainted, slid across the sage green surface of the door. Claws curled around the edge of the door, sliding through the gap. He inhaled deeply, a rumble like a growl deep in his chest as he steeled himself. Something was wrong, wrong wrong-
Red Hood pushed the door open and hovered in the doorway. A hulking, heaving, monstrous figure doused in oil-slick darkness that filled the entire threshold. Sharp eyes and predatory teeth staring down at-
You.
Your eyes jerked away from the dimly lit laptop screen on your desk and landed on the shadowed figure looming at the entrance to your home office.
“You didn’t leave the lamp on,�� Red Hood gruffed, his fist clenching and unclenching at his side. You always left the lamp on.
Your eyes widened as you glanced around the dimly lit room, the blackout curtains drawn. “What time is it?” you demanded with a breathy sense of panicked realization.
“Three in the morning,” Jason breathed a sigh of relief and sagged against the doorway. “Scared me, angel. Thought somethin’ might have happened.” His gloved hands reached for his helmet, dragging the metal from his skin with a satisfied exhale. He rolled his head on his neck, stretching the aching muscles. “What are you still doing up?”
“Finally found a groove,” you replied, your gaze again fixed on the dim screen. Your fingers hastened over keys with a swiftness he hadn’t seen in days. He had grown used to the sluggish drawl and frustrated taps, your dramatic grumblings begging for inspiration to strike. “If I stop now, I- I’ve gotta get this done before-”
“The end of the week,” he finished, an exhausted, lopsided grin rising on his lips. He lifted a gloved hand to swipe sweaty hair from his skin. “How many have you written tonight?”
“Six,” you answered quickly, fingers pausing over the keys. The sound of heavy boots crossing the floor drew your attention and you found yourself staring up at Jason as he leaned forward and planted one hand on the desk. His helmet thudded onto the desk next to your hand. Your eyes met his, lips parting slightly at the curious expression he wore.
Jason always seemed like a statue to you. Strong, immovable, broad. Your eyes grazed over the scrawling scuffs and scratches of his suit that spiraled like vines climbing over his marble surface. The red highlights of his armor like maroon clematis, blossoming from the vines that held him together-
“Might have an idea for a seventh poem,” you began as you turned back towards your computer. Your breath hitched at the feeling of leather sliding up your throat and stopping to cup your jaw. Jason’s fingers curled slightly as he turned your head to meet his gaze again.
“When was the last time you took a break?”
“Um…” your tongue felt useless in your mouth as you stared up at him with wide eyes. Green eyes gleamed back at you, brows pinched together in a subtle scowl. Your stare roved over his face–the subtle crook of his nose, twice broken, and the thin scar tracing from his jaw to his cheek, and the wisp of sweat-damp black and silver hair that stuck to his forehead. “Probably… noon?”
Jason sighed. “C’mon, up.”
“Jay-”
“Up,” he prompted, hauling you up from your chair. Your palms flattened to his armored chest as you sought to stabilize yourself. Your fingers fanned out wide against the red sigil scrawled across his chest, then slid down to rest over his ribs. Jason hummed appreciatively and looped one arm around your waist, the other cupping your cheek. “Take a break with me, yeah? Know you need to get this done-”
“- I’ve got the book signing next week, and I need to have my draft turned in to my editor before then-”
“- But you’ll be no good to anyone strung out and exhausted.” Your cheeks warmed and you cast your eyes down. Your hands drifted back to the vibrant symbol across his chest. He was right, of course–he knew better than most how important it was to avoid being overworked… not that he heeded his own advice very often.
You jumped from your thoughts when his gloved hand closed around your wrist. You felt a pop from between your teeth and your gaze shot down to where he pulled your hand from your mouth, nail slightly torn. Oh. You were doing it again, and you hadn’t even noticed.
Jason brought your hand to his lips and laid a kiss on your palm, then trailed down and placed another on your wrist. It was like butterflies gracing your skin. His hands were strong as oak as he tugged you tighter against him-
“Yuck,” you said, jumping as he kissed your forearm and his wet, sweaty hair brushed your skin. You wrinkled your nose in disgust. He chuckled when you tried to pull your arm away.
A squeal escaped your lips when he buried his face in the crook of your neck. You squirmed at the ticklish feeling of Jason pressing open-mouthed kisses to your skin, dragging his damp face against your dry skin. “Jason! Gross!”
You groaned in disgust at the feeling of his damp hair dappling your skin. Your hands pushed at his shoulders, but his arms just pulled you tighter against him. There was no escape from the torment, and you whined pitifully in protest. He returned your frustration with a huffy laugh against your shoulder.
“You’re the worst.”
Jason grinned a crooked smile against your skin as his gloved hand slid into your hair and cradled your head against his chest. “C’mon, take a shower with me. Save some water. I can make dinner after, and we can eat in here while you wrap up.” He pulled away, his hair mussed as he gazed at you with a gentle expression. When he leaned in again it was to press barely there kisses to your jaw, your cheek, your temple, and back down. “Take a break with me.”
Your eyes fluttered shut as a content sigh left your lips. Your eyes felt heavy under his ministrations and you finally acknowledged the weary ache in your bones. You hummed quietly, a wordless reply to his request. 
You could spare thirty minutes.
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