#like there are parts of it that FUCK SO HARD
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don’t embarrass me- l.norris
summary: lando and you have a fight on NYE
pairing: lando norris x fem! reader
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You were angry. Every five seconds you had a friend asking if you and Lando had broken up, all because Maugi (one of Lando’s friends) was trying to make it look like she was with Lando. It was infuriating.
“You alright baby?” Lando whispered as he leant against you, the party already in full swing. You looked fabulous. Silver and gold for the new year. You looked like a million bucks. Yet you felt like a fraud. Every time you saw them together you felt yourself… shrink. Like you had to make room for their friendship. Whenever you’d try to talk to him about it, you were met with more questions than answers, and a lot of aggression.
You didn’t care anymore.
“I’m good,” you smiled. “You?”
“I’m great,” he smirked, pulling your waist into his. “You look fucking gorgeous,” he whispered, dotting kisses against your cheek.
You grinned. “Thanks baby.”
His grip tightened but over his shoulder you saw him. Oscar. Lando’s teammate. Lando’s friend. You had a plan, and you were going to make Lando pay for brushing you off.
“Wanna get out of here-?” Lando had started to speak, but he was cut off when you walked away, and straight into Oscar’s arms. He assumed after a little while, you’d come back. You didn’t. You and Oscar spent all of New Year’s Together, while Lando was stuck with Max and Pietra looking every part the perfect couple.
“Why are you sulking?” Max laughed, clapping Lando on the back.
“She’s gone off with Oscar,” he mumbled, looking up as he leant against the balcony railing.
“He is her best mate,” he pointed out. “Join the conversation, or at least hang off her like you usually do.”
He huffed. “She’s mad at me.”
“What did you do this time?” P asked.
“The whole Maugi thing kind of got to her, and when she’d ask me… I kind of brushed her off. She's been off for weeks.”
“So you fucked up?” Max sighed.
“I fucked up,” he nodded. “And now she’s ignoring me, and it’s 3 minutes to midnight.”
“She’ll let you be her New Year’s kiss, surely,” Max scoffed.
Lando nodded, deciding to go find you, but the uncertainty in his stomach had settled long ago.
He caught you from across the room, the absolute picture of beauty. Dancing haphazardly with Lily as Oscar held both your drinks, you danced, somehow looking somehow carefree and elegant at the same time. He smiled. The anxiety in his chest settled momentarily. You were still you. You were still his. You were just upset.
“It’s almost midnight,” he whispered as he wrapped his arms around your waist from behind, joining you in dancing as Lily excused herself to the bar. The red flashing lights and alcohol in both your systems made your dancing look a lot dirtier than it had intended to be, but alas, he just enjoyed feeling you close.
“Oh yeah?” You asked, turning around to him. “Finding Maugi anytime soon?”
He rolled his eyes. “You think I’d want her over you?”
“You don’t make it look any different,” you scoffed.
“Baby,” he smirked, practically laughing. “You’re the most perfect, incredible, kind, woman I have ever met. I love you. You’re my everything. I’ll admit when you came to me about it, I could’ve responded better, and I’m sorry. I was stressed about the way the media saw it, and I didn’t know how to respond to you. I’m sorry.”
You smirked. “That’s all I needed.”
He giggled, pulling you into him. How had he ever pulled you? He was such a loser when it came to you. He’d do anything.
“Do I get my midnight kiss?” He smiled, his cheeks blushing.
“You’re such a baby,” you chuckled as the timer counted down. You wrapped your arms around his neck. “Don’t ever embarrass me like you have, ever again.”
You pressed your lips to his and bit down on his bottom lip. You made him scared. Is it bad that made him hard?
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Blink Once
Lando thought taking care of his twin daughters would be the hard part. Turns out, he can manage. Now, figuring out which one is which - that's a whole different story.
2k word count warning: none - domestic, fluff, fun
The room is in a state one could describe as a battlefield. Tiny clothes, diapers, creams, powders and God knows what scattered everywhere. There is also an intense stare down happening between the two pairs of blue eyes and one set of greenish. The latter belong to Lando, the former to his dearest offspring. The most adorable duo of little girls that he had ever seen. Every since they were born, he's been getting random streaks of immense pride throughout the day. That is until now, when he is staring at the two little grinning demons, holding a green sock in one hand a purple one in the other. Normally, he'd be overjoyed that he had managed to keep the two happy and not crying for so long. Y/N has gone out to much needed and postponed catch up with another adult, that's not Lando or anyone they're related to. It was his first time alone with the kids. He needed to prove it to her, and himself, that he can do it.
One of their daughters was expected, the other one was a happy surprise. To say taking care of two, instead of one, was a challenge for the new parents would be an understatement. Sleep deprived Lando was begging silently for his daughters to give him at least a clue to solving his latest fuck up. Identical twins. Y/N was so terrified of mixing them up, that the color designated socks and clothes were established right from the beginning. Olivia has green, Maya purple. Right?
He sighs dramatically, standing in the middle of the nursery and trying to recall which one had which pairs of socks on.
"Oh, how great of you that you can sit on your own now," he proclaims to the two, who keep beaming back at him, blabbering and apparently finding this very amusing. "If you could just magically learn how to talk now and tell me which one is which, that would be a-mazing!"
Nothing. Obviously. They have a long way to go to be able to do that. He tries to retrace his steps one more time. He put one on the changing dresser, that must have been the one with the green socks and went on to grab the other one to put her -on the left? Or was it right? He curses himself in creative swear words for taking the socks off so mindlessly.
It might be humiliating, but Lando is self-aware enough to have somewhat expected something like this to happen. He checks the shared note he and Y/N have. Ok - so it's right, Olivia is green and Maya purple. Great. Now which one is which?
He decides to sit them down in the living room - most likely mixing them once again, but what difference does that make now, he thinks.
He holds the two socks in front of their faces. This works with dogs, it must work with children too. He tries to brush over the fact he just compared his heirs to an animal.
"So, which one do you like better? Hm? You must have developed some sort of notion of which colour is yours at this point, right?" he speaks is sarcastic baby voice as the girls keep on laughing. Lando frowns. "This is not some sort of game, ladies. For all I know this might be the grounds for a divorce and your villain origin story." Nothing. No reaction to the socks, they just keep looking at him. Adorably.
He starts to properly panic now. Calls himself a shit parent, immature dad and just plain stupid idiot. Y/N is gonna kill him. He has to fix it somehow.
He tries different approach. "Olivia? Olivia, is it you? Blink twice if you’re Olivia. I’ll settle for a burp!" he speaks to the one on the left. It's like this child has stopped needing to blink completely. "So you're Maya?" he asks and figures the response of her hand reaching up must be enough to confirm her identity. He turns to the daughter on the right. "So, you're Olivia? Does that sound familiar?"
He is going to explain this to them one day, it's going to be a very funny story of how their father fucked up their whole life. Mixed them up so much that they end up becoming drug addicts. Oh, God. He is truly spiraling. Were they born with a destiny he’s now sabotaging by switching them? Or not switching them?
"Okay, Team Chaos. Maya, blink once. Or just scream, because that’s your go-to answer for everything anyway." He watches them intently and finally sees a blink! And immediately another one from the other child. He groans and puts his head in his hands. After a moment spent in a pit of despair, he comes back to reality with new found determination. He is a father, their father. His instincts must work. He picks one up and in the air and examines her intently. Turning her left, right and upside down. And then the second one. He's got nothing. These kids are point to point exact copies of each other.
As a typical young parent, he turns to internet for help. And as per usual, he finds zero reliable advice to go with. No - there is no secret birthmark on one of them. No, they both have identical eye color. No, there is no difference in their teeth. In amidst of all of this, he panic buys a fingerprint kit and full on plans on preventing this from happening in the future.
He comes back to stare at his kids, who are uncharacteriscally quiet, calm and content. As if they know that for the first time in weeks, he does not need their help to achieve chaos in his mind.
He calls the one person who is smart, won't probably laugh too much in his face, won't tell Y/N on him and might understand his parent panic.
Max Verstappen picks up after third dial.
"Lando!" he greets him cheerfully. At least someone is having a good time. "What's up? How's the new parent life looking out for you?"
Lando gets to the point straight. He is after all running out of time. "I've mixed up the twins. Don't laugh. I don't know what to do."
"What do you mean, you’ve ‘mixed up’ the twins?" the Dutchman asks.
Lando rolls his eyes, how does one not understand the simple premise. "I mean, I was changing their diapers, I took their socks off, and now I don’t know which one is Olivia and which one is Maya. I’ve stared at them for an hour, and they’re just...Point to point the same."
Max bursts out laughing on the other end of the line, a loud, unfiltered laugh that makes Lando cringe. He waits for the inevitable to end and lets him speaks first.
"So I assume you're alone with them? Is Y/N out of the house?" Why is that important, Lando does not understand.
"Yes. I’m serious, Max! They’re identical. Identical! It’s like trying to tell apart two...marshmallows. Two tiny, giggling, adorable and judgmental marshmallows who know I’m losing it and find it hilarious."
It seems that Max is finally somewhat on board with the seriousness of it all. "Right. So what’s the plan? Are you just gonna call them ‘Baby One’ and ‘Baby Two’ until Y/N gets home?"
Lando pinches the top of his nose in frustration. "Max, I need to solve this. If I don’t figure this out, Y/N will kill me. She was already paranoid about this happening, and now I’ve gone and done it. I mean, what if I ruin their entire lives, Max? What if they grow up thinking they’re each other-"
Max is solution oriented. So he jumps into interrupting the young father, because he might have just got on forever.
"Okay, okay, calm down. Let’s think this through. Did you check for a birthmark? Sometimes one of them will have a birthmark or something small that’s different."
Lando groans loudly. "No birthmark, no physical difference, Max, my kids look identical and I can't recognize them apart at all!"
"Hm," he stops to think, Lando stops to think and hopefully the whole world stops for a moment so he can fix his cardinal mistake. "What about… I don’t know, their personalities? Isn’t one supposed to be louder than the other?"
Lando appreciates the idea, first good one. Sadly, not a helpful one. He keeps staring at menace his children are. "They’re both loud. And they both cry at the exact same time, like they’ve rehearsed it. I think they’re doing this on purpose to mess with me."
"At least you can be sure you're the father," Max rhetors and laughs again.
"Not funny," Lando gritts his teeth.
"Well, I’d mess with you too if you were my dad."
"MAX."
"Okay, fine, fine. Why don’t you just pick one, call her Olivia, and call the other one Maya, and just stick with it? What’s the worst that could happen?" he tries to calm Lando, but it backfires masivelly.
Lando is now pissed at Max as well. The guy has kids far apart in age to obviously not understand the gravity of the situation. And he's more that willing to make him understand. "The worst? The worst! I’ll tell you the worst. What if they figure it out when they’re older and I’ve been calling Olivia ‘Maya’ for years? What if Maya’s like, ‘Wow, Dad, you didn’t even know who I was?’ And Olivia’s like, ‘I always knew I was the favorite.’ And then they hate me forever and end up in therapy, and the therapist is like, ‘Your father was a moron who couldn’t even tell you apart."
"That… sounds like a lot of "future you" problems."
Lando start to pray silently to all the gods he's aware of. "Future seems pretty damn close, given Y/N probably comes home any minute now."
And that's when he hears the door open. Fuck.
"Just wait when they're teenagers and start switching on purpose," is the last he hears from Max before hanging up indefinitely. Lando freezes, the phone slipping from his hand and landing on the carpet with a soft thud. His eyes dart between the door and the two grinning culprits, who have now decided to crawl toward each other and share in their apparent victory. He whispers under his breath, “Traitors. Both of you.”
He gets up automatically, the plan now being wooving Y/N, the mother of his devil children, out by his adorableness. It worked when he was trying to get to agree to go on a first date with him, it has to work now. He wonders into the kitchen, where he sees her putting some box of pastries onto the counter.
"Hello, my love," he attacks and immediately steps all over to her personal space. Hand on her cheek, the other one on her hips and he locks them in a kiss. He's not fully certain it works, but it earns him a pleased smile. Baby steps - no pun intended. "So, what did you do?" He know already, coffee date with a bestie, bla bla bla, but he needs to buy himself some time. She tells him anyway and he is pleased to her happy, for the last time in their lives probably. Oh, what a nice journey this has been. He gets lost in the love-filled thoughts that he temporarily forgets about his predicament.
She kisses him gently one more time and flashes a look into the living room. "Look at them, so happy." Fuck, that was quick. It was foolish of him to rely on the fact Y/N might just forget about their kids. "How’s everything going? Did the girls behave?"
Behave. Right. The girls behaved perfectly. It was him who had descended into chaos.
"Yeah! All good on that front. We're a great team!" he responds, maybe too enthusiastically. He is certain this was the last time she's left him alone with the them, until they're able to identify themselves on their own. It was fun while it lasted. The pit of despair in his stomach is growing.
"It makes me so happy to see you all having fun," she says and it's the kind of relaxed smile he hasn't seen on her face for weeks now.
"Honey, do you wanna take a nap or some alone time in the bedroom?," he asks sincerely, casually tangling their hands together. "Looks like some time off suits you." This is not said as a part of his salvage plan. It is actually really nice to see her rested for once. She looks at him sheepishly.
"You're amazing, you know that?" she whispers, several positive emotions written all over her face.
"Keep focused on that," he says before he can stop himself. Fuck once again. He freezes. She winces, her spidey senses on. He glance is averted to the children now.
"Lando, did something happen?" she asks, suddenly worried.
This time Lando looks over at the girls, who are still preocuppied by themselves. "No, all good. Look at them, all content." And mixed up, he thinks, but does not add that.
Y/N does not look conviced and goes over to check up on them herself. He does not stop her. It was bound to happen anyway.
He's an adult. Knows well enough from his high demanding job that fessing up to a mistake is ultimately better than have someone find out. Deep breath in. Here goes everything.
"I don't know which one is which," he says and lets the reality of it sink in. Y/N looks at him with eyes wide out. He continues. "I was changing their diapers, took the socks of and then forgot which one is which. I'm sorry."
She stares at him, then at the girls and right back at him. To add some gravitas to it all, the kids are now playing with both socks. Lando is pretty sure the blood stopped flowing in his veins. He tries to calculate how long it's going to take him to pack his stuff up. Y/N kneels down to level with the girls and smiles at them. Lando's fighting the urge to take a photo, so that he can remember what having a family felt like. Then she picks up the child sitting on her left.
"Hi, Olivia," he mumbles and puts the sock on accordingly. Lando does not compherend. "Hello, Maya," she continues and repeats her action. Has his wife just decided which one is which and moved on? He could have done that minutes ago! He stays silent as he takes careful steps toward his family. Y/N stands up as well and looks at her disheweled husband.
"Olivia's got little tiny dimples," she says simply to provide some explanation.
"What?" is the only response Lando is capable of giving her. She waits with a sneaky smile as he comes over to them and examines the girls one more time. After a moment, he speaks again. "You're lying."
She laughs and dismisses that. "No, I'm not, look." Lando still can't see a damn difference, but decides on believing Y/N. "How do you-"
She shrugs her shoulders. "I guess it's mom instincts." Lando is stunned at how casual she is about this all. Just like that, she goes back to unloading her back to the kitchen. Lando's heartbeat slowly goes down to the normal a human is suppose to have and turn to watch Y/N. When he's sure that she in fact not being sarcastic, does not seem to be mad at him and confirms that he might just have survived this all and gets to keep access to his family, he walks over her to cherish her once again.
"I'm so sorry, I was really trying to avoid doing that," he apologizes, still not quite done being guilty. "I know you were afraid of this."
She turns to him with a smile. "It was bound to happen eventually. I was really worried about that when we came back from the hospital," she glances at the little girls lovingly. "I'm with them so much that I guess I started to see the tiny, miniscule differences. Don't feel bad not doing so," she walks over to him to be the one doing the comforting.
"If you want me to keep them straight, we’re gonna have to tattoo their names on their foreheads. I’m kidding. Kind of."
She chuckles. "Yeah, do that and you are dead."
He shakes his head. "Always dismissing my genius ideas."
"And always will be, honey," she leans over and kisses him. Just like that, the perfect moment is over. Sounds of crying creeping in from the living room. Y/N sighs into their kiss.
Lando looks at his two identical, mischievous daughters, he can’t help but smile. He may not have a clue what he’s doing, but one thing’s for sure. Life with these two is going to be anything but boring.
"Go lie down, honey. I got this," he notes and this time Y/N nods back at him.
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Let me in your ocean, Swim
The five times Sukuna tried to confess his feelings, and the one that works
Pairings- Sukuna x F reader (both like 23/24)
Summary- You have known Sukuna your entire life, and he's infuriated you for most of it. Since you were kids on a playground he was picking on you, and you decided you hate him (love him!?) little do you know, he's been in love with you since the moment you met. There were five times he tried and epically failed to let you know. You all don't see each other for two years after college, when you run into him on Valentine's day at the bar- and you think, what better for getting jilted tonight then a hate fuck from Sukuna!? But... no, in fact he needs to finally tell you the truth. Sukuna 5+1 valentines story
CW- MDNI/NSFW- Idiots to lovers, enemies to lovers (kinda!?) Sukuna is TERRIBLE at feelings, reader is bratty, he is lowkey a bully when you're younger, go through the five times he tried to tell you (intermingles with the current night) sweet, angsty, smutty. Warnings oh boy a lot- Explicit sex, sexual tension, tummy bulges, breed kink, oral sex (m and f recieving) fingering, rough sex, creampie, possessive Sukuna, lots of dirty talk, alcohol underage, use of recreational drugs etc, it's me so ofc we have a lowkey breed kink lol- LONG ONE- 14.8k wc- TRUST ME PLZ lol
tracks for this Breathe // On My Own // Me & U // Wicked Games // The High
Comments/reblogs so appreciated if you enjoyyyy <3
You didn’t expect to be sitting alone at a bar for Valentine’s day, but here you are, dressed to the nines in a beautiful glittery black dress, hair done up, makeup perfect on your skin. You have glittery bangles along your wrist, and red bottom heels, you’re as dressed up as you ever got, but right before your date, your boyfriend decided to break things off with you.
Which leads you to this hole in the wall bar, across the street from the fancy restaurant you’d sat at for an hour waiting on him, only to get broken up via text. Sighing, you order another drink, tensing then when you hear it, the damn voice of the man who you simultaneously couldn’t stand and also had it bad for, for years and years, ever since elementary school.
“Tch, what’re you doing here brat?” You glare up at him, but when you see just how good Sukuna looks, after two years of not seeing him? You falter, lips parted just so as he smirks down at you.
However, his heart is pounding in his chest, despite certainly not showing you outwardly, you take his damn breath away. Sukuna has always found you to be the most beautiful, infuriating little creature in existence. And you’ve just gotten more beautiful, which in itself irritates the shit out of him, it was hard enough acting ‘normal’ around you all his life.
But now?
“What’re you doing here, Kuna?” He snorts, rolling ruby red eyes, leaning against the bar with an elbow propped on it, glaring at you.
“Don’t call me that, god.”
“It irritates you, so I will.” You smile up at him, sipping the rest of your drink, which he eyes disparagingly.
“What’s that pink shit?”
“Oh, like your hair?” You counter, raising a brow, his jaw sets. “Ya want one, Kuna?”
“No, I don’t want your little bitch drink.” You roll your eyes now, as he sits next to you, and your eyes sweep over his starch white dress shirt and black slacks, stretching over muscles that seemed to have only gotten more pronounced since college.
“Not even my cherry, hmm?” You tease, pulling the maraschino out of your cup, dangling it in front of his face.
“That’s long gone, I’m sure, looking all slutty …” He murmurs, right in your ear, you shove at him, scoffing.
“You’re slutty, Sukuna. Pretty sure you fucked a whole sorority last time we caught up?”
“Mmm, rumors, rumors.” He holds up two fingers now. “Gimme something that’s not a little bitch drink, please.”
“So manly, oh heavens!” You pretend to fan yourself and he can’t stop the laughter, but he soon covers it with a glare.
“Get her some more of this pink crap.” He says, and you are a little surprised then, looking at the handsome man who’s had your heart for so long you can’t remember a time before him.
“Are you buying me a drink?”
“I am buying you a drink. I… it’s been a long time.” He misses you, but the words are caught in his throat.
“It has been a long time. Thank you.” You smile as the bartender hands you another dirty Shirley, and hands Sukuna a glass of whiskey on the rocks. He sips at it, eyes darting over your frame, your sexy body that is so well shown in that dress of yours, all he can think of is unzipping it.
“Where’s the boyfriend?” You blink a bit.
“How’d you know I had one?”
Well, Sukuna’s been insta stalking you but he won’t admit it.
“Heard it from our friends, duh. Just because we don’t see each other doesn’t mean I don’t see them.”
“Yeah well, it’s not like… I didn’t want to see you. We left things…”
“Yeah.” He sighs now, running a hand through pastel locks, a hand with black tattoos and black nails, throwing off this corporate vibe he has, something dark about him, but then, there’s always been. “You single on Valentine’s day?”
“I am, officially. Ass of a boyfriend left me across the street via text. And… are you…”
“Yeah, I also got broken up with, but slapped in the face, and in person. Think they planned the shit?” You giggle, shaking your head and sipping your drink, leaning just a bit closer, one of your legs brushing his, strong muscles of his pressing on yours. He damn near moans just at feeling your body after so, so long.
“Maybe they did. I’ve wanted to see you, though… I just…”
“There’s something I wanted to… tell you. Actually. I thought about calling you, but…”
“Yeah? Calling me?”
“So surprising?”
“You hate me? So yeah.”
Sukuna sighs now, sipping his drink again, looking down into your beautiful eyes, your beautiful face, remembering just all those times he’d ruined it with you. Fuck, since the first moment he met you, he was a dick, and pushed you away, all because the shit he feels terrifies him. And over the years, he’s tried, but he thought you were too far gone, nothing but a regret, a memory.
Something to compare every girl he’s with, never you, are they? There’s no one like you.
But you’re here of all places, and though Sukuna thinks shit like ‘signs’ are the dumbest thing ever, he can’t let this pass, not this time. He takes a breath and his lips part, his fingers then brush your hair back, something far too gentle for Sukuna, something that makes your eyes dilate, your little gasp so sexy he can’t think.
“You trying to fuck me tonight?” You ask, and he chuckles, the gentle brush now a rough grip in your hair, leaning over you.
You taste the whiskey on his breath, you feel his lips so close, your breaths mingling, as your hand comes to his shirt, balling the fancy material in your little fist. “That what you want, brat? Me to fuck you finally?”
“Maybe I do.” He freezes then, blinking long lashes, leaning even closer, free hand gripping your waist in the crowded bar. “A hate fuck? Sounds like the perfect thing to forget tonight.”
“Hate fuck, huh?” What you don’t know is, Sukuna is in love with you.
“Never thought of it? I doubt that. I remember things.” You lean even closer, hand now pulling at the nape of your neck, his other hand pressing against your ribcage, thumb right under the swell of your breasts, shooting desire down your tummy, across your body.
“I remember more, trust me. I need… to tell you shit. Okay? Will your bratty ass listen?”
“Make me.”
“I swear to…” You giggle as he slams his lips on yours, exhaling at how good it feels, god was good the word!? How fucking perfect you feel, mushy things he’ll never admit, his heart thudding in his chest. You whimper, this sound from the back of your throat that has him picturing every sound he’s going to elicit from you tonight.
His lips are firm, but surprisingly gentle for Sukuna, different from the couple of kisses over the years, no it’s too much. His tongue slipping between the seam of your lips, and devouring your mouth. Your arms slip up around his neck, kissing him back, arching toward him more and more. Your years of desire come out, your body reacting to his every movement.
You want him.
He needs you.
He pulls back, taking a breath and smirking. “Fucked out expression how? From a kiss?”
“You’re such a dick, I swear to god.” You shove at him now, as the music from the bar vibrates, beating erratic like your heart.
“Listen… if you can actually listen to me tonight, I’ll make you cum so much you won’t even be able to think about your dumb little ex boyfriend. Yeah?” Your chest heaves up and down with your breaths, vivid images spilling through, his white grin flashes under the neon lights. “Can’t think now?”
“I… fucking… okay. I’ll listen to whatever bullshit you want, I guess.”
“Need me that bad?”
“I’m gonna go-”
“No, shit. Shit, no don’t… stop it.” He holds you to him now, sighing as he looks at your pretty scowl, one that just makes him want you more. “Just give me the night to explain some shit, yeah?”
“Fine. But let’s get out of here after this drink.”
“Desperate to be alone, huh?”
“Y’know, that bartender is kinda cute.” You wink at him then, leaning forward, earning Sukuna yanking at your hair. “Ow! Always did that shit.”
“That’s the first thing I wanted to talk about… the day we met.” You rest your chin on your hand now, hair falling just so as he remembers.
*****
The first time Sukuna tried to confess his feelings, 4th/5th grade (Kuna age 11, Y/N age 10)
You were the new girl, a little shy but so pretty. And well, when you came up to Sukuna and smiled, asking where your class was, he couldn’t even speak, he just stood there, mouth flopping like some fish as you waited. His little brother Yuuji finally answered you, staring at his brother in confusion. ‘it’s right there across the hall’.
“Oh, thank you! What’s your name?” You smile at him then, and your smile is just too… annoying, yes, it annoys Sukuna.
“Yuuji, I’m in fourth grade but Sukuna is in fifth. What grade are you in?” He nudges his brother, who rolls his ruby red eyes.
“I’m in fourth too! Oh, so you’re Sukuna then?” You ask sweetly, turning to Sukuna, something happens then, Sukuna blushes. “Are you okay?”
He scowls at you now. “Of course I am, what’re you looking at?” He demanded, and your mouth opened in surprise.
“What?”
“Yeah, stop staring, new kid.” You roll your eyes now, shaking your head with a narrowing of your own eyes.
“You’re pretty rude.”
“You’re pretty weird.” You scoff then, and Yuuji is waving his arms up and down, stepping between you.
“Be nice, Sukuna. Um, can I walk you to class?” You nod then, giving Sukuna a glare, as Yuuji whispers in his ear.
“You’re such a jerk, she’s pretty.”
“Tch, whatever.” Sukuna watches as you walk off with Yuuji then, he does not like whatever it is you just made him feel. He’s thankful you’re not in any of his classes until you walk right into art, and you’re nervously standing near the teacher. She introduces you, and Sukuna finally learns your name.
“You can sit next to Sukuna!” Sukuna crosses his arms, jaw setting, and you look at him, wondering just what his problem is.
You think he’s really cute, for such a jerk, as you sit next to him and peer over at his sketch, which is actually really good. Trying to still be friendly, you let him know- “that’s awesome!”
Sukuna scoffs, covering it up quickly, no one has really seen his art, and your compliment makes him blush. “I didn’t show you.”
You frown now, brows knitting together. “Um, sorry, but it’s so cool. Could I see more?”
“No!”
“Um…”
“Just stop talking, would you? Bad enough I have to sit by you.” Your lower lip trembles, and Sukuna feels horrible now. “I’m… look, I’m-”
“Sorry.” You whisper, sniffling just a bit and looking at the teacher, and Sukuna hates himself then, he keeps wanting to say something, anything, but when he finally catches you in the hall, you glare at him.
How are you even cuter glaring!?
“Leave me alone, you’re a… a jerk!” You say then, and he scoffs, rolling his eyes at you.
“Me, a jerk? Why because I’m not fawning over the new girl?”
“No, because you… just are a jerk!”
“Well you’re a brat.” Sukuna says, and you gasp, turning angrily and clutching your books, Sukuna rubs his hand over his face, sighing then.
He really messed that up.
*****
You swirl your straw around your cup as Sukuna sips on his whiskey, looking far too damn fine you think, and you know it’s not the couple of drinks in your system. It’s just him and who he is, everything about him since day one drew you in, despite his best efforts at being an ass to you. You smile a bit as you remember the day that you met him.
“You were so mean, for no reason.” You muse softly, he sighs then, running a hand through pink strands of slick backed hair.
“Yeah, I was… then when I tried to apologize, you scowled at me.” You giggle then, the sound ending him completely, the way your cute nose scrunches up, god had he ever told you? Has he ever really said a compliment more than a handful of times to you?
“I was mad at you, for sure. My whole life people really liked me, but you didn’t at all, and I couldn’t fix it.”
“People pleaser.” You sigh at that, leaning a bit on your elbow, breasts showing far too much in your pretty neckline.
“I am, for sure.”
“When you laugh…” He trails off now, psyching himself up, taking a breath as he studies you seriously.
“When I laugh…”
“Your nose scrunches up… it’s cute.” He mumbles, almost like he’s in pain, and you giggle again, making him smile just a bit before he realizes it.
“It is!? Is that a compliment from Sukuna?”
“There are a lot of compliments I have for you. But, yeah, it’s annoyingly cute.” Your giggles relax a bit, as you now bite your lower lip, tempting him to kiss you all over again. “The things I can’t wait to do to you.”
That sobers you up, sending chills across your entire body, desire stark on your pretty face. “Oh yeah?” Your little breathy mumble wrecks him, but outwardly he raises a brow.
“Is that your attempt at being nonchalant, brat? Oh yeah?” He mocks, you shove at him then, as he snorts in laughter.
“Is that your attempt at being sexy- ‘can’t wait to show you little brat’ pshh.” You’re mocking him in a deep tone, Sukuna can’t stop the smirk.
“Bet it worked, bet you’re all wet, hmm?” You pause now, biting your lower lip again, teeth leaving marks when he gently pulls it from your teeth’s grip. “Nothing smart to say?”
“Shut up.” Is all you mumble, and he exhales, ruby eyes glinting as they watch you so carefully, studying your every feature. “So is that what you needed to say? My laugh is kind of cute?”
Sukuna clears his throat now, shifting a bit on the barstool, running a thumb down the glass. “No. The day we met, I should have told you that… you were pretty, and sweet. And I was an ass.” You blink in confusion.
“Sukuna, are you dying or something!? Is this some end of life apology tour!? You better not be, I swear to-”
“Shut it.” He stops you now, a fingertip to your lips. “I ain’t dying, calm down, can a man not… speak on some shit?”
“Sure, but it’s you, like my mortal enemy? Bane of my existence? Bully the entirety of school?”
One of his big hands is brushing against your bare thigh now, you look down at it, all tattooed, veiny, huge… making your tummy flip. “Maybe I wanted to be more than that.”
“Yeah?” Your voice is a breathy whisper, you half wonder if you’re in some dream, Sukuna being nice to you!? Being so close after so long?
“Yeah. So another drink, another story?”
“Hmm, do I get another kiss if I listen?” You tease, feeling the liquor make you bold, warming your insides. Sukuna’s lips quirk up on one side, his breath tickling your neck when he leans close, lips almost brushing against it. You feel your pulse flutter when his plump lips touch the shell of your ear just barely, like a fire igniting inside you, more than any liquor could produce.
“I’ll not just kiss you everywhere, I’ll fucking bite you everywhere, lick you all over, every…” His lips kiss your jaw line. “Pretty.” Your neck. “Inch.” He’s right behind your ear, that sensitive spot, kissing and nipping just so, you bite back a cry and fail, earning his chuckle. “You’re so easy f’me, huh brat?”
“Oh f-fuck you…” Your grumble makes him laugh, the sound tickling you as hiegrips your chin, tilting it up to look at him. “You’re the worst.”
“I know, I have been, for all these years. Ya ready for the next story? Then I promise…” He’s trailing his fingers down your thigh now, making your knees literally knock together, tummy clenching with an insane need you’ve only felt once, back on the last day you all really talked to each other. “Then we can head out of here.”
“Better be good, if it’s boring I’ll leave.” Your half hearted promise just makes him throw his head back in laughter, as he orders two more drinks, loosening his tie just a bit, making your thoughts haywire. “Where to, then? What trip down memory lane of bully Sukuna?”
Sukuna tenses just a bit, the things that he’s held in so long threatening to spill. “Middle school… more specifically, seventh grade, Yuuji’s party?”
It’s your turn to tense, at the brutal memory, so long ago. “Oh…”
*****
The second time Sukuna tried to confess his feelings, 7th/8th grade (Kuna age 14, Y/N age 13)
You were boogie skating with these fancy rainbow skates you saved all your allowance for, as all your friends were gathered around, some over at concessions, some at the arcade, some skating alongside you. But Sukuna? He was leaning on the edge of the brightly colored wall, watching no one but you, he could pick you out of anywhere, really.
You were so good at skating too, legs crisscrossing to the beat, your friends and his all murmuring about how good you are at it. You’re giggling as you whisper something to your friend Nobara, her and Yuuji were all best friends, along with Megumi, who was sipping on a coke next to Sukuna and Yuuji.
“She’s really good, isn’t she?” Megumi says, and Sukuna scoffs, shrugging.
“I guess.”
“She’s insane at it, she teaches kids and everything.” Yuuji says.
“You got it so bad for her.” Megumi teases, and then Sukuna tenses a bit, looking at you again, then at his brother, who is blushing.
“Nah, she’s just my friend. She’s so pretty though.”
You and Nobara are hopping off the floor, and Nobara looks right at Sukuna then, blinking her brown eyes and narrowing them. Sukuna wonders at just what you’re telling her, as you nervously bite your lower lip, then you’re waving your arms wildly as Nobara skates over to the three of them, and you tentatively follow, color decorating your cheeks under neon lights.
“Hey, Sukuna.” Nobara says, and he leans back on the wall.
“Yeah, what is it?”
She comes closer then, leaning a little too close. “Do you like her?” She says your name then, and Sukuna glares, stuttering, Megumi and Yuuji snicker in laughter behind him when you approach.
“What kind of question is that?” He says, and Nobara glares now.
“It’s just a question, okay? You can’t keep your eyes off her.” She smirks, and you cover your face in embarrassment.
“Ignore her, please.” You mumble, wanting to fall into a hole then and there, as the loud music blares around the rink.
“Everyone says you have a crush.” Nobara continues.
“You do stare at her all the time…” Megumi says, Sukuna turns away then, crossing his arms, feeling so embarrassed he can’t think.
“You don’t have to answer, Sukuna, it’s okay…” You touch his shoulder then, and just a touch from you ruins his middle school brain, when he looks down at your cute little face. “I figured you didn’t, she just…”
“I don’t, not at all.” He says the words so sharply you yank your hand back like it was burned, eyes wide on him now.
“Okay.” You manage, and Sukuna hates how your face falls then.
“You’re such a jerk! Why do you have to say things like that!?” Yuuji says, and he scoffs.
“Always coming to her defense, aren’t you the one with the crush?”
“He’s my friend, Sukuna.” You say, as Yuuji scowls at his older brother.
“Yeah well, I wouldn’t ask you out if you were the last girl in school.” Your face falls now, and everyone gasps, as there were more kids from your class gathering around. Sukuna falters then, but you cross your arms, scowling.
“Good, because I would never say yes! You’re the last boy in the world I’d ever go out with!” You shout it practically, people are all whispering as you skate off then, fury raging through your veins, and Sukuna stands there, as everyone looks at him with confusion.
“What’s your problem!? She really likes you, you’re so stupid!” Nobara hisses, chasing after you now, and Megumi and Yuuji shake their heads, leaving Sukuna to skate off towards the lockers, hastily taking them off as his mind whirls with what he’s just done to you.
You’ve done nothing but be as nice as you can to him since he’s Yuuji’s brother, but that’s the only reason he thinks you’ve tolerated him at all. He picks on you constantly, he tugs at your hair, he’s even snipped a part of it off in elementary school, he may or may not have kept it.
He throws paper balls at you, he tugs at your shirt and makes fun of you, and even through all of it you’ve not done more than scowl, roll your eyes, tell him off. But Sukuna has it bad for you, in fact he thinks he’s in love with you, but he just becomes more of an idiot as you all are getting older. You affect him more and more as you become prettier and prettier.
He watches the way the light hits your face in class and stares dreamily before you’ll catch him, and he’ll scowl instead. He’s an idiot.
And now he knows he hurt you.
As he’s outside, about to walk home, you’re standing against the wall, covering your face, in tears, when you see him, turning away quickly. Sukuna pauses then, his heart breaking, knowing he’s embarrassed you, but he doesn’t know what to say. He walks up, earning your glare, though your eyes are puffy, and your nose is all red from rubbing it.
“I… I…” He trails off, and you shake your head.
“If your goal is to embarrass me, you succeeded. I should have never told her I liked you…”
Sukuna sputters, mouth opening and closing. “You what!?”
“I don’t anymore, don’t worry.” You rub at your eyes now, sobs catching in your throat when you look up into ruby red eyes, eyes that apparently hate you, but you see something different, something softer.
“Why would you like me?” He asks then, and you want to laugh.
“How would I know? You’re a mean jerk, always have been. Maybe I needed you to be mean like that, to really knock that idiot idea out of my head.” Sukuna feels himself breaking inside now, two hands coming to your shoulders, making you gasp as you tilt your head back to look at him.
He’s already taller than anyone, and the more he grows up the cuter he is, the worse your crush gets. The more you hang out at Yuuji’s house, the more you see him, the more you fall, shit the meaner he is the more you fall. You can’t even find it in you to stay mad at him, when he makes your heart race, when you’re drawing doodles of him and you in your notebook.
You asked Nobara not to say anything, but she was so sure that he liked you back, though you knew he didn’t, you knew he hated you. He has since he met you, and you don’t know what you did.
“Listen, I shouldn’t have… I shouldn’t have done that. I didn’t mean it.” You scoff, shoving at him, his hands fall.
“You don’t need to feel sorry for me. I’ll be fine. I’ve had worse.”
Sukuna blinks back his own emotion, gulping. “I didn’t mean it.”
“Then why’d you say it?” You look up at him, when your eyes look at him like that he hates himself so much, knowing he’s just lying to you, to himself.
“I just… everyone was…”
“You care so much what people think, despite acting like you don’t.” Sukuna scowls at you now. “Embarrassed to like me?”
“What!? Why the fuck would it be embarrassing to like you?”
“You tell me. Not pretty enough? Not popular enough? I see who you hang out with. Just forget it, I promise I’ll never say I like you again.” You peek at your phone now, sliding it up, but Sukuna cups your face, leaning close, your eyes dart to his lips, thinking for some insane moment he’d be your first kiss.
No way though.
“You’re pretty, okay? Very pretty.” You pause then, mouth open in a gasp, and Sukuna laughs without humor. “How can you think you’re not?”
“I… um… you…”
“I didn’t mean it.” He steps closer, thumb brushing a tear away from your cheek. “I’m sorry I… made you cry.”
“You always make me cry.” You whisper, and he gulps now.
“Yeah, I do. But this time… I’m really sorry.”
You sigh then, hand touching his wrist, making his own pulse race, as he thinks wildly of kissing you, of something he’s dreamed of since he first found out what it was. “You don’t have to apologize for not liking me back.”
“I-”
“But for saying it like that? Yeah it was mean.”
“Listen…”
“Thank you for apologizing.” You smile sadly, backing off when you see your mom’s car pull up, and Sukuna is left dumbfounded. “Don’t worry, I swear I won’t say it again, I won’t even… think it again.”
You know you’re lying.
Sukuna says nothing as you get in your mom’s car, and she’s asking if you’re okay, he watches her hug you for a moment before she begins to drive, and he sees your eyes full of tears again, streaking down your face. Yuuji walks out front then, nudging him as he watches his brother’s eyes glimmer with what looks like tears.
“Why’d you do it?” Yuuji asks, and Sukuna sighs.
“I don’t know.” He admits, Yuuji puts a hand on his back then.
“You’re a big idiot.”
“Excuse me!?”
“You are.”
He was.
*****
Suddenly all that embarrassment floods you, you tense at the memories, hating how vivid they are, after all these years. You nervously look away, downing the rest of your nearly empty drink in one gulp. Sukuna is quiet then, and you wonder just what his angle is, is he here to embarrass you again? Is this some long term bully shit? Is that an apology tour?
“Are you in therapy and making rounds?” You ask softly, voice breaking, and then you feel his hand wrap the back of your neck, resting his head against yours, making you ache for him.
“I don’t feel bad for shit I’ve done, ever, except what I’ve done to you.” You look at him, he’s too close, far too close. He sees your emotions mirroring his own, and it breaks him. “I should have never fucking done it.”
“Sukuna, we were in middle school. It’s fine.”
“It’s not though, because it was such a blatant lie. God how did you not know how bad I was down for you?” You suck in a breath, shaking your head quickly, and hopping off the barstool.
“You’re lying! What even is this shit.” Sukuna pulls you between his thighs, brushing your hair back behind your ear as you tremble. “Sukuna…”
“I am not lying, but I was then, an idiot kid who was mean as shit to you.”
“Why were you so mean?”
“I’m trying to get there. Can you keep listening?” You shake your head, sniffling. Now, it’s just like being back there, back on that day where you were so embarrassed you could hardly face anyone.
“I can’t handle this shit… it’s things I’ve shoved so far back…”
“I know.” Sukuna’s strong thighs are under your tiny little hands, pressing against his muscles under the expensive fabric, as everything fades in the world but him, but the longing that’s eating you both up from the inside. Your breaths come quicker when he looks at you, that intense way, with his arrogant smirk finally not on his face, just once.
“Why do you wanna do this, rehash it?” You ask now, leaning even closer, until you’re right against his body, and he’s bending low.
“I need to tell you some important shit, I just need you to listen. Do I need to reward your bratty ass for some patience?” There’s that smirk.
“Maybe, I offered to hook up, not go through yearbooks.”
“Fine, so let’s get out of here, let you get some air, and we’ll continue. I’ll… take care of you, hmm?”
“Yeah, think you could?” He snorts, rolling his ruby eyes, hopping down, towering right over you, taking over your every sense.
“You ask dumb fucking questions, I think that’s the one thing you know I could do…” He leans right down, cupping your face. “Ruin you for anyone.”
“Big talk.” You’re so full of shit, your body is on fire, your heart is pounding out of your chest, the clothes feel too tight, everything swirls around you.
“You know it’s not.” Sukuna pays for the tab then, walking you out, the cool night air hits you, making you shiver, so he wraps a jacket around your shoulders, shocking you. “You think I’m that much of a dick?”
“Yes.” He laughs then, that booming laugh that makes him throw his head back, as you snuggle against his jacket, inhaling the expensive scent of musky cologne. “You have nice taste though.”
“Bet you do too. A nice taste.” He pulls you against his hard chest, feeling your soft breasts press against him, making his cock hard just from that. “Wanna know how badly I’ve wanted to?”
“T-taste me?” You whisper, all bravado and teasing gone, the breeze gently blowing your hair around as you wait for his driver.
“Fuck yes. Should I right here, brat?” He slips his hand under the lapels of the jacket, slipping over your dress and slipping it up, as people walk in and out of the busy little dive bar. You feel yourself so wet you’ve made a werspot in your panties, panties his thumb finds slowly.
“Right h-here?” You whisper nervously, when his driver pulls up in a whole fucking limo, you blink in surprise at it, as his hands fall.
“You’d let me, so desperate.” You glare again, making him grin. “I love when you scowl at me.”
“Are you feeling okay!? And a limo, pretentious.” You eagerly slide in with his help though, seeing everything one could dream of, as he leans over, pulling out a bottle of champagne, raising a brow, the slits in it just making him sexier, damn him. “You just ride in a limo?”
“Why not? I have these long legs, and I like to be comfortable.”
“Psh…” He pours you a glass of champagne then, and you eye a little white baggie curiously, along with a bag of weed. “Damn you partying everywhere?”
“On occasion, usually this shit is for clients though.” You giggle a bit, sipping the champagne. “I would never offer coke, but you smoke?”
“No, not really. I did once and it made me so stupid.”
“Fair enough.” He closes up the little open box, arm over you casually, kissing his way up your neck carefully, enjoying your sighs of pleasure. “Do you want a reward for listening to two stories?”
“Hmm, what do I get? A gold star?” He smirks, shaking his head and kissing you, the tart of the champagne swapping between your tongues, the kiss is slow, sensual, before it builds, and he’s setting down your glasses. He’s got you on his lap so quickly your head spins, and you’re grinding on his length, gasping in pleasure, your head falling back.
“Holy… f-fuck…” He huffs, all bravado gone when he feels your slick warmth through the layer of his dress pants. “You’re that hot?”
“Am I?” You can’t think, not when you feel his length pressed, making you whimper, which he chuckles at, nipping your collarbone between his teeth.
“That little whine? Fuck… pathetic.”
“I hate you.” You grumble then, shoving at him, but he holds you by your hips, pressing you against him harder. “Let me go, ass.”
“I like you pathetic, sweet, whiny. Sexy as fuck.” You are dragged back down for a kiss, your teeth clicking with the intensity, as you roll your hips more and more, and he slips those hands up, the veins popping out when he grabs you bruisingly. “Everything about you is made to drive me insane.”
“You’re saying insane shit, Sukuna. Is this a booty call, a hate fuck… or…” You pause, gasping as he thumbs your clit over your panties, pressing against the damp fabric, making you whimper again, eyes rolling back.
“Ya think that’s all I want? No, brat, the reason I didn’t do shit… is because… I know I’ll never be able to fuckin’ stop.” You’re flipped under him, back pressing against the seat, as he hovers over you. You yank his tie down, slamming his lips against yours, hungry lips that drink every moan you have when his hand slips between your thighs, yanking your thong to the side.
“Kuna…” He groans, slipping fingers up and down your slit, you’re trembling now, breaths quicker and quicker.
“Need something, brat?” Your brows lower, you have an insult on the tip of your tongue when his finger tip presses your tight entrance, and then Sukuna loses it, shoving his finger all the way in, moaning. “You’re this fuckin tight?”
“Ngh…” You can’t manage an answer, not when he’s crooking his finger just so, pressing that little spot inside you, finding it better than any boyfriend could just the first time, and your walls are gripping his thick digit, while your hand still clutches his tie.
“There it is, ha- feel her, fuck.” Sukuna is simultaneously in control and losing control as he plays you, curling his fingers in syrupy wetness, making you fall apart under him, hips bucking when his thumb presses your clit again. “Like both, that pussy so slutty f’me?”
“S-slutty…” Your brain short circuits, when he slips in two, stretching you out, your dress scrunched up over your hips, he hovers over you, watching every expression on your pretty face avidly.
“That’s it… let go, huh? Make a fucking mess.” You’re panting, you’ve never cum from just fingers like this, not when he’s building that tension, pressing two up and rubbing your clit, until you’re reaching higher and higher. “Feel it, feel her, she wants to cum, just let her, huh?”
“F-fuck!” You scream out then, kissing him deeply, desperately, as he makes your pussy convulse around him, orgasm washing through you in waves, until you’re weak and boneless under him, twitching cunt gripping his fingers, so slick you hear it.
“That’s it, there you go.” He rubs his fingers up and down your slit now, easing up, sucking your juices off his fingers, cheeks hollowing. You gulp at the sight, of the sexiest fucking thing you’ve seen, his eyes rolling back in his skull. “Can’t wait to bury my face, eat you so good you pass the fuck out.”
“Wh-what? You…” You can’t function, from fingers, when he kisses you again, slower, letting you taste yourself.
“Can’t wait to make you stupid. Fuck your brains out. Be nothing but me, brat, yeah?” His husky voice, his tight grip, his brutal kisses destroy you, they’re not the kiss you shared last time, not even close, he’s letting go, he’s ending you.
“K-Kuna…” He exhales now, easing off you as he helps you up, your coat having fallen onto the seats, leaving him to caress your bare arms gently.
“Feel better, brat? So needy.” You smack at him, only making him laugh just a bit. “Wanna know what I should’ve told you then?”
“Shit… forgot all of that.” You blink rapidly, disoriented.
“Cock drunk off fingers? So easy.”
“You know, drop me off-”
“Hush, brat.” He yanks you up, sitting you right on his lap, but this time sideways, sipping his drink and then holding the glass to your lips, you sip greedily, sighing and finding your arms wrapping around his neck, as he pulls you even closer against him, burying his face against your neck.
“What did you need to tell me then, Kuna?” You whisper, getting weaker by the moment, the orgasm destroying you, and making you wonder…
What would his dick be like?
His mouth?
If his fingers casually do that?
“I should have told you…” He exhales, pulling you close, burying his face in the crook of your neck and inhaling your scent greedily. “That I did have that crush, fuck way more than that, you were all I could think of. You still are.”
You still now, pulling back a bit, as your eyes lock in the led lit limo, your breaths mingling as they come quicker and quicker. “Y-you liked me?”
He shakes his head. “That wasn’t even the word. There’s a stronger word… one that terrified me then. I was a little ass, a shithead.”
“Yeah you were.”
He glares, pinching your hip then, making you yelp. “Can’t wait to occupy that bratty fucking mouth.”
“Oh yeah? Gonna shut me up?” You whisper, earning his cock leaking precum now, god only you could have this effect on him.
“I’ll shut you up, have your voice hoarse, shove my cock so deep.” You whimper, shifting, and he kisses you again, brutal and rough, teeth almost making your lower lip bleed, his grip on your hips pressing so deep you can’t breathe. “Hoarse from screaming, from my cock stretching your throat, so fucked out you won’t be able to sit or walk.”
“This is a lot of talk, Kuna. How many more fucking stories before you back it up, hmm?” You demand, voice breathy, he smiles then.
“Three.”
“Oh come on!”
“Shut it, brat. You ain’t gonna die, ain’t had my dick this long.”
“Well hurry your mean bully stories up.” You earn a gentle smack on your cheek, only making you whine out, as you smack him back, making him die for you, kissing you again before he remembers.
He needs to tell you it all.
“Make 'em quick, dammit.”
“Slutty brat.” He earns another smack, grinning, white teeth glinting. “Fine, fine… how about that time we kissed in high school?”
You heat up then. “Oh…”
*****
The third time Sukuna tried to confess his feelings, junior/sophomore year of HS- (Kuna age 17, Y/N age 16)
By this time, Sukuna already had a reputation, he was the bad boy, always in and out of trouble. He rode a ridiculous motorcycle around, and he always had the new flavor of his month on the back of it. You barely even knew a girl who hadn’t made out with Sukuna… or probably more, but you were not one to care.
Sukuna and you went from enemies to nothing. He quit picking on you, and in some fucked, weird way you missed it, any of his attention. Walking through the halls and seeing him with his arm around a new girl all the time filled you with some odd sensation you didn’t wanna think of.
It’s a party over at Gojo’s house tonight, his parties were kind of ridiculous because of just how rich he was, and he damn near lived all alone. There was an insane amount of people there, as you navigated the party with a red solo cup in your hands, so nervously, Yuuji came bouncing over to you waving with his happy little grin on his face.
“Hey!” He shouts your name, Megumi follows in tow, smiling just a bit, a mere quirk of the corner of his lips.
“Hey Yuuji, Megumi. Where’s Nobara?”
“She’s over there, about to play… suck and blow.” Yuuji snickers now, you giggle at him and roll your eyes, looking over as people are sucking on a debit card, passing it in a circle, you see Gojo there, kissing a girl then, making you blush a bit as they really go at it.
“Oh… that game sounds…”
“Germ ridden.” Megumi declares with a shiver, you snort in laughter then.
“Yes, germ ridden.” You agree, then your heart stops as Sukuna is right in the mix, he’s towering over everyone but Gojo, as he passes the card to and from the girls on either side of him. For some reason, every time you see him you get this feeling, it’s not butterflies, it’s vicious moths, aggressive and beating you.
Yes, moths you think. Sukuna didn’t give butterflies.
He smirks at you like he just knows something all the time, and nothing could be more irritating. Seeing you now, Gojo shouts your name, waving you three over to the game, the table in front of them was littered with shot glasses and fallen empty cups. “Hey sweets!”
“Satoru, hey!” He gives you a big hug.
“Mwah!” You giggle as he kisses your forehead, Satoru Gojo is a touchy feely friend to damn near everyone, including Sukuna. “Thanks for coming, I know it’s not your scene.”
“I totally snuck out for this, it better be good.” You tease, and Satoru wiggles his brows, brushing back silky white hair, as Sukuna scowls at the gesture. He hated just how touchy he was with the girl Sukuna so secretly pined for.
But you certainly didn’t know he did, in fact Sukuna kept it such a good secret you thought he straight up hated you. Although the picking on you eased up some as you all got older, you’re just getting prettier, sweeter, smarter. You don’t hang out as much with Yuuji, and Sukuna misses you there. He has one class with you and he thinks he’s maybe said a handful of things to you this year.
“You can stand right… here.” Satoru moves another girl over between Yuuji and Megumi, and puts you smack dab between him and Sukuna, making you tense up as you look at him.
“Hah, why her?” Sukuna says then, your fists clench at your sides, Satoru lets out a little laugh.
“Prefer me next to you, baby boy?” He blows a kiss at Sukuna, and he grimaces, earning the laughter of everyone around, except you, feeling just how much Sukuna still can’t stand your presence, for whatever reason.
“God no, okay fine.”
“Yes, I know it's so terrible, huh?” You mumble, Satoru hands you the card then with a smirk.
“No way, you’re the best partner. Get started missy.” You suck on it then, pressing it between your lips and Satoru’s, as each of you passed the card. Along the way it falls across from you, and two people have to make out, everyone else has a drink. You cough just a bit at the burn of this god awful punch you’re sipping then, and Sukuna gives you that sardonic ass look.
“Can’t handle a drink, brat?”
“No, I never have…” He blinks a bit then.
“Oh, shit… why-”
“Pay attention, Sukuna.” Gojo calls, and he turns then, sucking on the card, then bending low, one hand brushing your shoulder as he blows the card on your lips, then you turn and go to blow the card onto Gojo’s as the card clatters to the table.
‘Ooooh’ everyone’s whispering and giggling as Satoru bends low, tilting your chin up to look up into his pretty blue eyes, Sukuna’s fury grows with every second, as he’s never seen you with anyone, thank god.
He could almost pretend you were his, that he didn’t get in his own way, that he doesn’t long after you for every moment of every day until this very moment. When Satoru leans down and kisses you, he feels it like a punch to the gut, something nauseating, seeing his hands on you.
His lips on yours.
Sukuna is downing a shot and having to look away when Satoru’s hand entangles in your hair at the nape of your neck. He’s never wanted so badly till take someone the fuck out, and for what? You’re not his, you probably never would be, it’s not like he has any reason to be this upset. But…
You’re gasping as Satoru kisses you deeply, slipping his tongue in between your lips, and your tummy flutters as he does. Satoru’s breath is sweet, and little does he know yet, he’s your first kiss, then and there in front of countless people. He pulls back with a little smile, his snowy lashes lower over his eyes, as you try to gather yourself, he leans in against your ear.
“You’re a good kisser, sweets.” You smile a bit, laughing breathlessly.
“My first.”
“No way!?” He pulls back and blinks a bit, eyes looking at the huge, furious pink haired man behind you. Satoru smirks mischievously, it’s no secret to him or any of Sukuna’s friends how bad he has it. “I’ll keep it secret.”
Satoru crosses his chest with his fingers in the sign of a cross, and you exhale in relief. “Thank you. Shots?”
“Shots!” You both down shots with everyone, and then Satoru picks up the game again, as you turn just a bit to see Sukuna glaring down at you.
“Something wrong?” You ask curiously, and he laughs then, a mocking sound, shaking his head.
“Why would shit be wrong?”
“Right, you didn’t have to kiss me.” You say with a pat on his arm, and he gulps down more of his drink, before his hand crushes the solo cup.
“Tch.” He says nothing as the card hits him again, and you almost assume it will fall, that he’ll kiss someone, but it doesn’t, not until it hits you, then the card clatters to the fucking ground, leaving you looking up at him wide eyed.
“Oooh, those two!?” Someone says, and everyone stares at you both, it’s obvious Sukuna’s a bully to you, and that you can’t stand him.
“Two kisses in one game already?” Satoru teases, you bite your lip then, looking at Sukuna’s mouth, set in a line.
“You don’t have to.” You say softly, and Sukuna snatches you up against him then, shocking you, your eyes fly to his.
“Think I’m scared, brat?” He whispers.
“I think you don’t want to.” You whisper back, and you expect it, some retort of his, but he slams his lips down on yours, taking over every sense you’ve ever had, tasting your lips and tongue as he devours you then. It’s not sweet and sensual like Satoru, it’s full of everything he’s ever felt, pouring in your lips.
Your hand slides up his arm, across a bicep, thumb brushing it when his two hands find purchase on your waist, pulling you closer. He kisses you hard and brutal, his hands tightening to a bruising touch as he practically growls into your mouth, his tongue moving against yours. You don’t even know what you’re doing, but it feels all consuming.
It’s wild and fiery, and you can feel his heart slamming in his chest, his breathing heavy as yours come in shallow pants, and it’s like everything stops around you. You can’t remember everyone is watching you, can’t be embarrassed when a hand slips up your spine, and he tilts his head to get better access to your mouth. You can’t hear any of the whispers, not with your heart pounding in your ears.
You don’t know why you’re kissing him back with such fervor, why your arms are wrapped around his neck, the boy you hate, right? The boy who’s made school awful at times, who loves to fuck with you almost every day, you think maybe it’s the alcohol, maybe it’s the thrill of it all, but as your kiss ends you know you’re wrong. Kisses don’t feel like this, do they?
He pulls back, damn near ready to tear into you here and there in front of everyone, something feral happening to him, Sukuna has already been with a couple of girls, but he never felt anything more intense than kissing you, then seeing your reddened plump lips, swollen from him. It drives his high school brain absolutely erratic, when he cups your face, looking how small you are compared to him.
He pictures lifting you and-
“Okay, okay… calm down or get a room.” Satoru teases, as Yuuji and Megumi have their jaws on the damn floor.
Everything is spinning now, not from the alcohol but from that kiss, from the intensity of his emotions crashing into yours. You pull away, panting, and his eyes are so dark then, his pupils dilated with something you’ve never seen before. Is it… desire? Is it… curiosity? It feels like something more… something…
You blush furiously, clearing your throat when you realize you’re just standing there with your mouth open, in front of an entire party. Sukuna doesn’t stop staring at you, in fact he can’t rip his eyes off you, nor does he take his hands off you, as you tremble now, goosebumps where his touch still sits on your skin.
“I need some air… too many kisses.” You manage, before running out then, struggling to get a breath, the tiny amount of alcohol is coursing through your veins, mixing with the heat from Sukuna’s kisses.
You’re inhaling the night air greedily, looking up at the starry sky, shaking your head as you cover your overheated face. You’d kissed Satoru and Sukuna, and Satoru had been so fun, so sweet and exciting. But what the actual heck was that with Sukuna!? What was this feeling you can’t shake, you can’t cope with!?
Sukuna dies to go after you, to finish everything he started, to kiss your face, your neck, perhaps more if you were ready. He would be happy just kissing you though, nothing else, if you offered just that, because he’s never felt it. Satoru, Suguru and his other friends are all snickering at him now.
“Go after her, Romeo.” Suguru says, and Sukuna glares at him.
“What? Why?”
“C’mon man, we all saw. Looked like you’d eat her.” Satoru says.
“In more ways than one?” Suguru chimes in, earning Sukuna’s angry glare, he shakes his head then. “Oh stop this… she’s hot, why not go for it?”
“She’s the bane of my existence. A kiss doesn’t change that.”
“She’s available then?” Satoru asks teasingly, as you’re walking back up, getting a drink poured by Nobara.
“Of course she is… it was just a kiss in a game.” You hear him then, and Nobara instantly has her hand comfortingly on your back.
“Don’t pay attention, he clearly was into you.” She murmurs, Satoru eyes you both then, before looking back at Sukuna.
“So if I ask her out you’re cool with it buddy?” He teases with a big grin.
“If you what!?”
“Mmm, ask her out. If you don’t even like her that way?” Sukuna sputters now, and everyone’s whispering about him, about the kiss.
“Why ask me?” He huffs with disdain, and you quietly join back in, this time on the other side of Satoru, Sukuna notices it furiously, making a show of kissing the next girl as the card drops again.
You hate how you feel about it, about him.
As you’re dancing later with Satoru, you watch him sitting on the couch with two girls on his lap, but his eyes are laser focused on you, every motion you make with your hips in a figure eight motion. You feel his eyes like a brand on your skin, like he’s undressing you with them, but he doesn’t come near you, you’re both just across the room, with the energy between you.
The amount of times Sukuna replays this in his mind over and over, the kiss that destroyed him. But instead of telling you how he feels, he says nothing, watching as you move on, and as he pretends he is as well, but is he really? Will he ever be?
*****
You’re remembering the kiss vividly, Sukuna watches your eyes go fuzzy, as you both pull up to his place. You just sit there, nervously shiting in his lap. “Those were… my first kisses. Isn’t that insane?”
“What was insane was that I wanted to kill him for kissing you, I wanted to kill anyone who touched you, kissed you.”
“You did?” You ask softly, he nods then, smirking just a bit.
“Best kiss I had.”
“What!?”
“I should have told you. Not acted like…
“A dick?”
“That mouth, brat.” He is glaring as you giggle. “I acted like I didn’t care, but I did… and your bratty ass dated Satoru after that!?”
“Well, he was sweet and asked me out. What’d you expect me to wait for you to figure it out?”
“Yes.” You both laugh softly then, his strokes up and down your spine making you long for more and more of him, every bit of his body, his touch, his heart.
“Three stories down, why don’t I…” You trail your fingers down his dress shirt, over his rippling abdomen. “Return that favor?”
“Killing me, brat.” He exhales, and soon you’re kissing in his elevator, as you ride up to his fancy penthouse, your breath catching at it. “Ya like?”
“Damn, you’re like rich!?”
Sukuna throws his head back, sliding his jacket off you then, eyeing your skin hungrily, thinking of all the ways he wants to kiss it, bite it, taste it. “Yeah, I’m fucking rich.”
“So humble too.”
“Why should I be? Fuck that.” He then hands you a glass of water, making your eyes narrow.
“Rich as fuck and I get water!?”
“It’s Evian.”
“Psh, where’s the liquor stash?”
He brushes your hair back then, gently. “Want you fully aware for the last two stories, yeah? Then you can have another if you want.”
“Yes, dad.” You tease, then his nostrils flare, making your lips turn up as you watch his reaction. “You like to be called Daddy don’t ya, freaky Kuna?”
Sukuna’s scowl just deepens, as he crosses his arms. “Oh shut that mouth, swear to god.”
“Shut me up- mnh!” Sukuna’s grabbed you right under your chin, squeezing your throat just so, as his free hand grips your ass.
“You listen to this one, I’ll let you suck me. And the last one, I’ll finally lick that pretty pussy.” You whine when he finds your slick heat over your panties, everything going just a little fuzzy. “Fuck you in positions you’ve never heard of.”
“All talk.” He lets you go, shaking his head, kissing you deeply again, you are falling into it, into how good he feels, letting it all surround you.
“Ya know I’m not, admit it.”
“Shush.” You take your water with a shaky hand, drinking it then.
“Good girl.”
Good girl!?
You can’t handle that from him, can’t handle the heat pouring between your thighs, in your tummy, making you ache for him more and more. “This story was about a time you didn’t have water, and you were all over me.”
You draw a blank then, shaking your head. “Psh, what!?”
“Mmhmm. Come, sit down.” He guides you over to an elegant living room, with a spacious black couch, everything sleek and modern, floor to ceiling windows overlooking the night sky.
“Beautiful.” You murmur softly, touching the clear glass for just a moment, he comes up behind you, kissing across your neck.
“I’ll fuck you on this window, let everyone have a show.”
“What!?”
“Let ‘em know you’re mine this time.”
“Sukuna!” You are dragged to the couch, sat down right next to him, his arm around you.
“Sip more water. So thirsty.”
“I really hate you.”
“You say that…”
“Yeah.” He tilts your chin up with two fingers, pressing his lips over yours over and over, little sweet kisses you don’t expect. “Mmm, so… remember your first frat party?”
“Barely! Oh shit I think I got drunk.”
“Oh yeah you did.
*****
The fourth time Sukuna tried to confess his feelings, your senior year HS, his Freshman year college (Kuna age 19, Y/N age 18)
“Y’know… S-Sukuna… fuck you’re kinda hot!?” You’re stumbling as you speak to Sukuna that night, dressed in some mini skirt and crop top, showing everything. You make him furious, showing that body that seems to get prettier every year, the top showcasing far too much of your pretty breasts, the skirt showing too much of your sexy thighs.
Thighs he’d die to have wrapped around his head.
“What now, brat?” He demands, and you giggle, clearly shitfaced, you never partied so you’re an insane lightweight. And your friend is currently making out in a corner, leaving you stumbling over to him in heels that make no sense for you, for the girl he’s known so long. “What’s with the skank fit?”
“Fuck you I’m hot.” You giggle, doing a spin, and then nearly falling, Sukuna catches you with an arm around your waist, warm body pressed against his.
“That alcohol spiking that confidence?”
“Jus’ because you don’t think- m’hot doesn’t mean… m’not k?” You toss down your drink, giggling breathlessly, looking up at him with dilated eyes.
“When have I said you’re not?” He asks softly, guiding you away from the crowd, from the eyes of too many hungry frat boys. You somehow end up on his lap, arms around his neck, giggling and scrunching that cute ass nose of yours.
“You’ve said m’pretty like once. In middle school? Thass it, Kuna.”
“God, don’t call me that, drunky.” He brushes your hair back then, and you pause, inhaling just a bit, sudden clarity in a brief drunk haze. “You’re the prettiest brat there is, yeah? You’re gonna forget this. So fuck it.”
“The prettiest brat?” You repeat, and he smiles, nodding, before hissing when you shift, straddling him.
“The fuck are you doing!?” He demands, hands pressing on your waist, while you lean your face low, breath against his lips.
“Jus- wanna kiss. Or more… always wanted you to be-”
“Shh, stop.” He puts a hand on your mouth, shaking his head. “You’re shitfaced, don’t go saying dumb shit.”
You lick at his palm, giggling again, moving your hips, he feels your heat against his cock over his jeans, making him throb then. He was no virgin, far from it, but you make him blush. You make him tremble, and he hates this effect, that you so casually have, and don’t even know you possess.
Since he met you, you’ve done things to him, things that have him jerking it to images of you, memories of you. Practicing all the ways he’d take that virginity of yours back in the day, knowing he was a fucking idiot. Thinking of how he’s stretch that surely tight little hole, how he’s make you his.
But you dated boys, he dated girls.
You lived your life in your lane, he lived his.
You both rarely crossed, aside from your friendship with his brother and mutual friends, he doesn’t think he’d see you. He barely does now, and the way you’re looking at him addles his mind, short circuits his brain chemistry. God the things he wants to do with you…
But…
“You’re trashed.”
“I’m pretty to you.” You murmur, lips far too close, he can practically taste jello shots on you.
“You are.” He figures fuck it, what’s it matter?
You won’t remember.
“You’re beautiful.” He says, finally, after so many years, and you blink rapidly, sobering up almost it seemed, lashes casting shadows on your cheeks as they lower, as you take a breath.
“You think so?” You whisper.
“I know so, fuck who doesn’t?” He holds you still when you wiggle. “Don’t fucking do that, please.”
“Don’t wanna fuck me, Kuna? Don’t you fuck whoever?”
“Fuck you…” He trails off. Fucking you isn’t what he’d do, and he damn well knows it too well.
He’d lose himself in you.
“You wanna fuck me so bad, hmm?” He asks, husky voice breaking.
“What do you think?” You grind on him, his head falls back, moaning as you kiss up his throat, making his hands grip you bruising. “Haven’t I wanted to for s’long, Kuna… wanted y’inside me…”
“Shut the fuck up.” He shoves at you again, ruby eyes narrowing as he looks at your flushed cheeks and glittery eyes. “You’re drunk.”
“So?”
“So you need to get home. Nobara.” She looks up at the shout of her name, eyes wide when she sees you, gently pulling you now.
“Come on baby.”
“No, he wants me, look at him.” You giggle again, and Nobara can’t stop the smirk on her face.
“He does, but… you’re too tired, yeah?” You look at her, then Sukuna, yawning then and nodding as she eases you up.
“Am I?”
“You are. Say goodnight, remember you can’t stand Sukuna, yeah?”
“Oh yeah.” You blink again, stumbling against your friend, Sukuna’s hand cups your face gently.
“Good night, drunk brat.” He kisses your head, shocking you even in your drunk state, before looking at Nobara. “Got a ride?”
“Yeah, we’re good. Sukuna…” She whispers then.
“Hmm?”
“Just let her go if you don’t want to be with her. She deserves more than this… pining away for you.” Sukuna gulps at Nobara’s words.
“I…”
“She’s amazing, you know.”
“Yeah, I fucking know. Trust me.” She sighs, as you snuggle to her, blissfully unaware of the conversation, just mumbling how good Nobara smells.
“She wants to go to another university, but she’ll go here to see you. Let. Her. Go.” Sukuna watches you stumble away, feeling it like a knife to his chest.
God it was difficult to let you go, but were you wasting your chances for someone like him?
*****
“I literally don’t remember it…” You murmur softly then, while Sukuna’s fingers run lazily over your shoulders, sipping more water. “I think I remember sitting on your lap but it’s a blur?”
“Yeah, it was… hard…”
You’re laughing then. “Sorry!”
“Hard in many ways, sure. To turn this down?” You heat up under his praise now, so open for you.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. Look at you.” You’re kissing him then, again, you could just keep kissing Sukuna, forever and ever you feel like. Like nothing could rip you from him, when you’re straddling his lap like that night, and he’s exhaling against your lips.
“What was the thing you should’ve said?” You whisper, rolling your hips, grinding your pussy on his shaft, he groans, kissing down the plump curve of your breast, sinking his teeth and making your head fall back.
“I did say it…” He grins, looking at the little teeth marks in your skin.
“Wh-what was it?”
“That you’re beautiful, and fuck you are.” You whimper when he yanks down your top, revealing your puffy nipples, taut and perky with want. “Oh my… fuck…”
He’s sucking one into his hot mouth now, your hands entangled in pastel locks, hips rocking for more and more, he’s dying to sink into you, and you’re dying for him to fill you. “Thank you, Kuna… and… did I say anything that…”
“You kept saying how hot I am.”
“You are, fuck you are. Sexiest man I’ve seen.”
“Damn, simp much?”
“Hate you!” You shove at him and he’s chuckling, kissing back down your breasts, sighing.
“You don’t hate me, shut it. Should we put that mouth to better fucking use?” He asks, and you nod eagerly. “You’re gonna obey that easily? Want it so bad?”
“Oh fuck you and your stories.” You slip down, one knee on one side of him, as you unzip him slowly, he hisses when his cock juts out of the jeans, of his boxers, so heavy and thick. You pause briefly, blushing when you see it, a tattoo around the base of his fucking cock, and a piercing on the tip.
“Cat got your tongue, slut?”
“Slut? You have a slutty tattoo on your slutty dick. And this? This…” You moan then, kneeling between his thighs spread, looking up at him so pretty then his heart flips in his chest, he’s as nervous if not more than he was when he was a virgin. Looking how beautiful you are, face resting on his thigh.
“Then put this slutty cock in your slutty mouth, huh?” You eagerly do as he says, taking him into your mouth slowly, teasing the piercing with your tongue, tasting his precum, salty and bitter, coating your tastebuds. “Mmgh, yeah, like that, pretty little whore.”
His words really should infuriate you, but you love it, jerking his hips up as you suck harder, faster, feeling his hands tighten in your hair, and god he’s losing his fucking mind, and it’s all because of you.
You love it, love the way he’s looking at you with lidded ruby eyes, as he fucks up into your mouth, alternating between gently cupping your cheek and shoving your throat down on his cock, all while looking at you. His eyes never leave your face, you hear his breaths, feel him tense. It’s intoxicating, feeling his cock swell and pulse in your mouth, feeling his eyes on you, watching you take him deep.
“So pretty, look at you, taking cock s’good. S’hungry for it, huh?” He’s mumbling now, trying to be so sure, so dominating of you, and he does, but he’s vulnerable, as your little fingers press against his thighs, as you’re sucking him so deeply. You breathe through your nose, feeling him get harder, impossibly harder, as you take him more and more.
Your cunt is pulsing around nothing, thinking of everything you’ve wanted, listening to him mumbling praise, watching that red streak from his cheeks to the tips of his ears. To make Sukuna blush was something so heady you couldn’t explain it, not as you keep sucking, as you slip his dress shirt up just a bit, revealing the hard, perfect planes of his abdomen.
“Fuck, you’re good at that, hmm?” He whispers, his eyes half lidded, his voice gruff and rough, so fucking sexy, and you moan around his cock, nodding. He’s so fucking big and it’s a struggle to take him all in, but you’re keep trying to, go even deeper, watching his breath hitch, his hips buck upwards. He keeps whispering your name until he yanks you off.
“Lemme suck you off, Kuna.” You plead, and he laughs insanely now, shaking his head as he looks down at you.
“Ya gotta be that good at this!? I’m mad you ever sucked anyone.” He grumbles, glaring now, you pout as he pulls you off, hands firm on your ass when he sits you back on him, and now he’s adjusting himself back in.
“Really!? Not another story, Kuna… I need to tell you my own shit.” You murmur, he puts a finger to your lips, shaking his head.
“I’m almost done, last story yeah? Then…” He rubs your cunt over your panties, so damp they’re sticking to your plump lips pathetically. “Then I’ll make her feel so fucking good, so good I promise.”
“You suck.” You say with a pout, earning another smirk as you try to catch your breath, leaning back against him. “Okay, one more, and only one.”
“You’re such a little-”
“Kuna…”
“A little… pretty ass bitchy ass-”
“Sukuna, I swear to god I’ll hit you.”
“Yeah?” He raises a brow.
“You’re a little bitch.”
“Swear to-”
“I should go.”
“You aren’t going any fucking where. C’mere.” He yanks you back down, as you huff in anger. “I’ll give her what she needs, have some patience. All fuckin night and day, just wait a little longer, huh?”
“F-fine.” You look down demurely, as Sukuna sighs, shutting his eyes.
“The last time we saw each other. Remember?”
“Shit…”
*****
The fifth time Sukuna tried to confess his feelings, your Sophomore year of college, his Junior (Kuna 21, Y/N 20)
You weren’t even in the same college as Sukuna, but you still saw him, from time to time. You were close with Yuuji, Megumi and Nobara, and that meant sometimes seeing Sukuna, a girl on either side of him as he’s throwing pong balls into cups, and everyone is cheering for him.
Jock Sukuna.
Frat leader Sukuna.
Asshole hoe ass Sukuna.
You resent him, you hate it but you do, he’s popular and still somehow a huge asshole, he hasn’t changed a damn bit and people fawned over him, girls were all lining up for their turn, all except you. You’re glad you went to a different university, even if you missed your friends, it means you got to miss him being such a whore blatantly in front of the world.
He kissed one, then the other, like they’re both his girlfriends, chuckling until he catches sight of you.
You.
You make his heart race, wanting to thump right out of his fucking chest, tightening it so bad he can’t breathe for a moment. You’re in this gorgeous little dress, too fancy and pretty for some stupid ass frat party. He watches the eyes of everyone on you avidly as you smile, starting to get surrounded by his curious frat brothers, making his murder instincts kick into high gear.
When would everyone figure out you’re his? Shit, when would either of you figure it out, that this is what it was?
That he was in love with you.
That he’s been in love with you, since the first day you ran into the hall, over ten years back, when you’d had hurt in your eyes and your lower lip trembled. Loved you every minute of every day, and every day he falls deeper and deeper into being an idiot, drowning you away with cheap beer and endless annoying girls. Girls he couldn’t care less about, but they were safe bets.
They weren’t you.
Your eyes catch his across the room, sipping on your drink then, smiling up as your friends come to talk to you. Sukuna has maybe seen you three times this entire year, and he’d be lying if he said he doesn’t miss, god he misses picking on you, he misses that scowl you give him, the way you cross your arms.
He leaves the girls next to him, much to their dismay, walking up to you now, and your lips part as your drink sits just a bit down by your side, looking up at him with eyes that haunt his every fucking dream. Your body looks so good he can’t help but picture it naked in every position under him, while he says your name softly.
“Hey, Sukuna.” You manage to sound casual, while he’s shirtless, his already chiseled body buffer than you remember, tattoos already on his abdomen and wrists, ones that weren’t there before, that just make him sexier.
Fuck Sukuna.
Fuck him for being all you think about even now, when you have college, a part time job, a whole life. And you lay there, and think of him, picture him in ways that make you touch yourself, not knowing he’s jerking it in his dorm room to you, sometimes simultaneously, but of course neither of you has figured any of it out.
Clueless.
“You should… play?” He suggests, your brows draw together in confusion.
“Why are you being friendly?”
“Why shouldn’t I be?” You sigh then, shaking your head and walking away, making his jaw clench. “Excuse me?”
“You’re excused.” You stomp away, and Sukuna chases you, into a room now, shutting the door behind you, you peek around and realize you’re somehow in his room when you see the familiar things you’ve seen his whole life. His game system, his guitar… his collection of panties? “Jesus.”
“Yeah it’s a thing we do.” He clears his throat, rubbing the back of his neck, and you shake your head, turning to look up at him.
“Does it make you feel cool? Fucking the cheerleading squad?”
“Maybe it does. What do you care!?”
“I don’t.”
“Good.” He says.
“Good.” You agree, then you’re on each other, kissing each other hungrily, his hands gripping your ass, as you drink his moans.
“Why do you gotta act like this?”
“Like what, not easy?” You whisper, pulling back, and he groans, down on his knees suddenly, making you gasp, as he’s just a breath away from your hot, eager little pussy, lifting your skirt and moaning when he sees the damp spot. “What… are…”
“Lemme finally shut you the fuck up, brat.” He whispers, yanking them to the side just as the door tumbles open, you jerk back so fast as giggling girls pour in. “Don’t… get off me, fuck.” He’s shouting your name, chasing you, but you can’t get out of there fast enough.
What were you about to do!?
“Come back, fuck!” He’s yanking you by your wrist, and you scowl up at him. “Just let me… we’ll get a room, or…”
“No, thank god they came in. I’m an idiot, I have been. Down to be a notch in your stupid bedpost.”
“You’d never be-”
“Good bye Sukuna.” You leave him with watery eyes and a trembling lip, and he hates you more.
*****
You both sit there, staring at each other then, quietly, so much left unsaid over so many years, so much between you both. Your breaths make both of your chests rise and fall, while you wait with bated breath, feeling every bit of his energy consuming you, still tasting him on your lips, his pants still unzipped, your dress still tugging down your breasts just so.
“I was harsh.”
“Nah, you were real with me.”
“What did you want to say, then?” You ask quietly, and Sukuna curses, standing then, walking you back more and more until your shoulder blades hit the cool glass of his window, and you gasp, looking up at him. His gaze is hungry, it’s intense, looking right through you, seeing you. All of you.
“What I should have said, so many times… is that… I fucking love you, okay? In love with you. Stupid in love. Down bad like a little bitch.”
“What!?”
“You really couldn’t fucking tell!?”
You try to process his words, shaking your head now, tears welling up as the emotions hit you. “Like… in love?”
“Didn’t I say it, brat? Ya want some one knee shit, it’ll be eating your pussy, like I should have that night.” He murmurs, and soon he’s kissing you, hungry, desperate, hands touching every inch of you he can. “Love you, brat. Always have.”
“Sukuna…”
“Shh.” He turns you then, unzipping your dress, big hands darting across your back, your waist, your hips, turning you then to face him, leaving you in nothing but soaked panties and a lacy bra. “Should’ve told you, I love you. You’re beautiful, so beautiful you fucking wreck me.”
“Kuna…” He’s moaning again, red eyes bright as he rips your bra off, revealing your pretty breasts to his hungry gaze, cupping them, resting his forehead on yours.
“I was a fucking ass to you, a dick. A bully. A shit.”
“Kuna…”
“Shut up. You don’t have to feel the same, it can just be a fuck if you want, I’ll give you anything.” You’re whimpering, when he’s kneeling, just like that night, his breath hot against your inner thigh, when he runs calloused fingers down your soft skin, eliciting a cry. “I’ll let you fuck my face and thank you, make me so pathetic.”
“Sukuna!” You shout finally, yanking at his hair, pulling his head back to look at you, and he exhales now.
“Yeah?”
“I love you too, you idiot.” He pauses, heart slamming in his chest, and you just nod weakly, tears pouring down your cheeks. “I’ve always loved you, mean ass.”
“Fuck…” He rips your panties off.
“They’re expensive!”
“I’ll buy you all the ones you want, slutty fucking brat. Put this pretty pussy on my goddamn face, now.” He orders, lifting a thigh, swiping a stripe up your slit with the flat of his tongue, making you scream out, head falling back against the window he’s so shamelessly eating you out against. “Taste so goddamn good, fuck you.”
“F-fuck you, Kuna… just… will you… ah!” He smacks your pussy then, glaring up at you, as you manage a little pathetic scowl.
“Shut it brat, now. Lemme take my time, shit.” He’s back down there, parting your plump lips, dying at just how pretty your pussy is, how the wetness is just oozing. He sips up the syrupy wetness with the tip of his tongue, moaning at your taste, before slipping up to your clit, slowly circling.
“Mnph!” You’re barely able to make a noise, when Sukuna buries his face against you, nose bumping your little twitchy clit, tongue slipping up into your hole, as his hands squish your thighs, pinning you in place. “Ah!”
You feel that grin against you as he sips you up, drinking you, youre eyes are rolling, back, fucking toes curling as he nips your clit then with his sharp teeth, eliciting a slutty moan from your throat. “That’s it, cum all over m’face, slutty lil fuckin brat.”
You can’t even retort, you can’t function when his tongue is flicking the underside of your clit, and he’s watching you with those bright red eyes under those pastel lashes, working you so well you can barely stand. You’re gasping, gripping his hair so hard you’re pulling it, only making his cock harder for you, your eyes shut when you earn another wet smack on your cunt.
“Ah-ah,look at me when I’m eating you out, brat. I wanna see you fall apart f’me, just me, only me.” Sukuna’s possessive words and another smack earn you looking down at him, eyes locking with his. “Ha, that’s it.”
His tongue is flicking and pressing against your clit, when he curls two fingers up inside your gummy walls, cum drooling down his black painted nails, all the way to his rolex watch, cold against your heated skin as he pumps and pumps. “M’gonna… oh my g-god…”
“That’s it, cum like a pretty lil’ fuckin whore, hmm? Just f’me.” He orders, filthy words spitting from his mouth when he curls his fingers just so inside your soppy little cunt, and you shatter then as he works you like he’s always known you, sucking your little clit in his hot mouth.
“Kuna!” You scream out his name as you come, thighs trembling around his neck, eyes rolling back in your skull, panting when he fucks you with his fingers even faster, pushing you from one orgasm into another. “Too much!”
He doesn’t relent, he’s fingering and devouring you simultaneously until you’re a weak, pathetic mess, sweat making your hair stick to your brow, you’re trembling and shaking as it makes you see stars. You’re not even holding yourself up anymore, he’s got an arm around your hips, moaning against you.
“Sukuna, I l-love you.” You mumble weakly, and he chuckles, tickling your oversensive cunt.
“I know you do, baby.” He whispers back, kissing your inner thigh, licking your pussy clean of all your cum before he stands, and you’re taking off his dress shirt with shaky fingers, so shaky he smacks at them. “Can’t even function huh?”
“F-fuck off…” You can’t function, though, you can’t form a coherent thought in an already fucked out brain as he rips off that damn shirt, showing a buff, perfect body, littered in new tattoos you haven’t even seen. He’s quick to get naked, and pick you right up in his arms like you’re nothing. “H-here!?”
“Everyone already got a show.” He smirks, tip nudging your soppy entrance, you’re shivering as you cling to his shoulders, whining desperately. “Wanna give em a better show? Want everyone to see you dripping my cum?”
“Yes.” At your husky admission he grins.
“Slutty little brat. Oh my… fuck…” He can’t take it, when he starts to press inside you, and you’re screaming out at the stretch, as he feels your slick cunt grip him like a vise. “You’re s-so f-fucking…”
“Fuck me, please, please.” You beg, tears in your eyes now, and Sukuna won’t deny you shit, not when you’re begging so pretty, no he fucks into you, hard, thrusting his cock so deep his tip kisses your cervix. “Oh my god.”
“Oh my god.” He moans right with you, exhaling as he looks into your glassy, dilated eyes, so dilated all he sees are the outer rings of your irises when he sinks so deep in your eager pussy. “Ya feel like this, the whole time could’ve been putting babies in this?”
“Kuna!? The f- y-yes! Yes!” You’re screaming as he pounds his cock, so thick it’s stretching you out so hard it hurts, it burns, wearing you down with each pump, the sounds of your slutty cunt echoing in his immaculate fucking penthouse. You’re cumming before he can play with your clit, something that’s never happened, he hits so hard you don’t even need it.
When you cum, pulsing all around him he tenses, pulling then, setting you on the floor and turning you, pressing your tits against the glass as he bends down, lifting your ass up and fucking into you, your hands leaving prints on spotless glass. He’s moaning as his muscles flex, as he pumps his thick, long cock so deep, and you’re throwing your head back, screaming.
“That’s it, again baby, lemme feel your slutty fucking cunt grip me.” He huffs, leaning over the glass and fucking into you, two hands gripping your hips, thumbs pressing into the dimples of your back, as he rails you harder and harder. You’re gasping, twitching, unable to even stand, practically falling on the glass overlooking the night sky.
When Sukuna’s gotten another orgasm, he pulls out again, carrying you like you’re nothing until you’re in his bed, and he’s climbing on top of you, so intimate in this moment, cock drooling with your drippy wetness. He’s entwining a hand with yours, the other grabbing his cock, putting it back inside, your already sore little hole, and you gasp, clinging to him.
“S’good… s’good I…” You can’t form a word, when he’s pressing your thighs up higher and higher, watching the bulge in your tummy at his huge cock wrecking you, making him harder, his precum pouring, cock twitching.
“That’s it, cunt screamin’ just f’me, fuckin’ hear it huh?” Sukuna whispers, eyes and face practically feral, fucking you harder, deeper, as he presses your thighs until you’re folded in half under him. “Answer me, huh? Too fucked out?”
“F-fuck… y-you… K-Kuna you- yes!” You’re whimpering out when he pounds his cock even deeper, and you hear it, the squelching wetness of your soaking cunt, the slap of his balls on your ass, as his face drips sweat right down onto your own, and you’re crying it feels so good.
“Crying sexy!? Is anything ya do not sexy… slutty brat… swear I’ll ruin you for fuckin anyone, yeah?” You just nod weakly, sniffling when Sukuna cups your face between his huge hands, pounding deeper and deeper in your hole, and he’s finally slowing, laughing. “Milking me?”
“Whass that… Kuna…” Your words are jumbled as the man you’ve loved forever beats your poor little cunt up, as he fucks velvety walls until they’re aching, rubbing your walls so good, hitting just that fucking spot, over and over, ridge of that drooly tip sending you.
“That’s it, can’t help yourself, can you? So pathetic, c-can’t stop cummin…” He’s huffing now, leaning over you, so big and strong you feel so damn tiny under him, his power, the way he moves, the way he fucks you like he owns your pussy.
“Ngh…” You can’t speak anymore, it’s all sounds, whines, whimpers.
“Gonna fill this pussy up, gonna be dripping me for days huh? Want me to, don’t ya brat?” He holds your thighs up so high you could hardly breathe, as he works your cunt harder, grinding against you when his tip bruises your cervix. “Answer me, now, use those words.”
“Fill me, please.” You whisper, and he moans, smirking then, leaning so that his lips are a breath away.
“Want me to breed that slutty pussy?”
“Yes.” Sukuna folds then, busting so deep in your cunt, filling you to the brim with his endless spurts of hot cum, until you can’t stand it, so hot and full, you feel Sukuna fucking everywhere. He’s still pumping now, kissing you, moaning his pleasure as your thighs shake against him.
“That’s it, taking it so good aren’t ya baby? Cunt so eager. Slutty.” You just nod weakly, and he laughs. “That's how I shut you up? Could have been doing it.”
“You love my mouth.” You counter, earning his chuckle, when he finally eases your thighs down, kissing you just a bit softer, your nails that have been pressing and leaving marks on his back relaxes now, as you both breathe together, slower and slower.
“I do love it.”
“You love me.”
“Don’t get too annoying about it.” You giggle, and he adores the way your nose scrunches. “Fucking cute.”
“Yeah?” He nods, finally admitting it, what’s been in his heart so long he doesn’t know how he handled it, the lightness he feels of you knowing is so amazing he can’t put it in words.
“Yeah.” Is all he says for now, kissing you again. Soon he’s in the shower with you, ‘cleaning’ you, as he’s drinking your pussy right up on his knees, as the hot spray falls down.
Then, Sukuna is fucking you right on his shower wall, and you’re clinging to him desperately, as his cock works you in ways you could have never known. “Gonna forget anything, anyone, just me, brat.” He huffs in your ear.
Later, it’s no longer Valentine’s day, shit it’s maybe three am? But Sukuna isn’t done with your pussy, no he’s far from it, having you on your hands and knees on his bed as he fucks you, slapping your ass over and over, leaving hand prints. Then he’s prone bone over you, wrapping long fingers around your throat, squeezing as you gasp and cum all over his cock.
“Put a fuckin baby in ya, huh? Want that, don’t ya?” He’s huffing that morning, not like either of you have slept, and he’s laying behind you, you were supposed to cuddle but Sukuna has catching up to do with you, so he’s cradling you, fucking you with your one leg up over his thigh.
“Want it… want it…” You’re throwing your head back, while he’s fucking one load of cum out and pumping more into you, until you’re a sobbing mess, and Sukuna could still go, but you’re passing out, weak and snuggling him.
“You’re so… beautiful.” He whispers as you snore lightly, before rolling his eyes. “And annoying.”
“Hmm.” You mumble, when he shoves at you, and your eyes adjust to the man you’ve always loved, smiling just a little soft for a moment. “You love me.”
“Shut it brat. Stop snoring or I’ll kick you out.” You just giggle, kissing him.
“Shh. Love you Kuna.” You murmur, falling asleep on his chest, feeling for the first time in forever like the puzzle pieces have fallen together, and Sukuna watches you until his heavy eyes knock him out with you, snoring even louder than you. When you wake to him eating your pussy, all puffy and sore, you wonder just what you’re in for.
“Taste us, fuck.” He drinks you up, leaning over, spitting in your mouth then, you gasp at it, at his insane grin. “Taste s’yummy, huh?”
“How about g’morning, hmm?” You manage, coughing just a bit, and he’s nudging his broad shoulders back between your thighs.
“Nah, fuck that.” He buries his face against your pussy, your hands entangling in his messy locks, back arching.
“Please.” You whisper, soon he’s working over you, hand wrapping your throat, as he shoves that thick cock in your sore little pussy over and over, until you’re both losing the day in each other.
And that was the last time Sukuna tried to confess his feelings, but this time it worked, and you felt the same the entire time
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Neighborly (Part 3/Ending)
mdni
Masterlist
Soap x reader x Ghost
Summary: You didn't know hate until Johnny MacTavish. (Or a really big build-up to cuddles and smut).
Warnings: SMUT, vaguely dom Ghost, unrealistic recovery time from near death experience/hypothermia, cuddling for medical reasons, implied medically-related stripping, implied anxiety disorder/depressive disorder, self-isolation, language, incredibly shitty communication and social competence.
The next day, Ghost had you write a list of things you needed from home. He assured you Johnny wouldn’t be stepping foot in your place, but that did leave you on your own with the Scotsman while the giant lumbered through the snow to pack an overnight bag on your behalf.
Your extremities still had fits of unpleasant tingles, but when Ghost examined your hands and feet, he assured you there shouldn’t be permanent damage. First degree frost bite at worst. He praised your choice in winter boots, thick socks, and heavy mittens.
You’d asked how he knew.
“Had some experience. Nothing to worry about. Trust me.”
Instantly flustered, you’d looked down at the huge socks over your hands, fighting away the question of which man they belonged to, and assured him you did. Stupid, since you barely knew him, but you did, and much more than you should.
It didn’t matter if the man was handsome under that mask or ugly as sin. His voice did things to you. It made you want to sin so much he looked like an angel. And the way he handled you in bed, if only platonically, woke your libido from hibernation. Which was un-fucking-fortunate, all things considered. You’d be a horrible lay at the moment with your chapped skin and lingering exhaustion.
Besides, your neighbors were definitely in a relationship.
As you dozed after a cup of sugary tea, Ghost stepped away to speak with Johnny. You could see through the open door when the big man seized his partner by the back of the neck, leaning forehead-to-forehead as he rumbled something in that intoxicating voice. The mask didn’t come off, but you’d definitely spied a tongue stretching the knit to stab into Johnny’s mouth. Hands went to waists, drifted to asses, displayed affection they probably didn’t realize was so public.
You tried very hard to actually go to sleep after that. It wasn’t like you’d meant to creep on them. And they were the ones who chose to make out in front the invalid’s open damn door.
But it put your thoughts in a tailspin, and everything overwhelmed you. A near death experience preceded by robbery and car problems made for a long day. Waking up in your neighbor’s boyfriend’s arms and realizing they’d seen you naked took the knot of emotions and twisted. Then there was the fact that Ghost was likely elbow deep in your underwear drawer – again for platonic reasons – and it wound you up in the worst way. You were a fucking mess. A wad of feelings without an outlet.
You needed to get off and have a good cry. Either or both. And you weren’t in a position to have either.
When you’d suggested going home, Ghost shut you down before you even finished the thought.
“We’ll take care of you. Owe you, yeah? Besides, you’re still recovering.”
So, you wrote the damn list, asking for your comfy clothes, your toothbrush, phone charger, and other necessities. You resisted asking for your favorite throw blanket or the heavy, knitted monstrosity you tried knitting a few years back that was almost a sweater. Nothing you loved was safe around Johnny, and you didn’t want to be a burden, anyway.
Fuck.
Right.
You were a burden.
When you felt a bit better, you’d handle the empty mugs on the nightstand. What else could you clean? Efficient as Ghost was, he was babysitting for two adults. There must be a mess to clean, laundry to fold, something.
You’d make it right. When you’d put some distance between your waking thoughts and death’s shadow.
Trying to think your way out of the lingering pain with your thighs clenched and your glare drilling into the far wall, you almost managed to dissociate for a beat.
Until he knocked.
“Hey.”
Fucking Johnny.
You rolled over, glowering with the blankets up to your nose. Ghost should hurry and come back.
“’M so sorry, hen.” Failing to take the hint, Johnny inched into the room. His folded arms and heavy frown left him looking severe. The boyish illusion was missing. He was all bulging muscles, faint scars, and dog tags.
You’d wondered more than once if he was military. If he was, you’d bet anything Ghost was, too.
“I almost died,” you mumbled, speaking through the blankets. “I would’ve helped with whatever you needed if you’d fucking asked.”
His eyes snapped shut. His head dropped. Deep breaths lifted his shoulders, and he looked like he was in genuine pain.
Good. That made two of you.
“You’re an asshole.”
“Aye.”
“You’re a jerk.”
“Aye.”
“You almost got me killed.”
“Aye.” Eyes wide, hands pressed to the foot of the bed, he towered over you, bubbling over. “I’ll make it up to you. Whatever it takes.”
He was practically panting, trying to escape his guilt. Just one more thing he wanted from you: absolution. A knight seeking a quest of atonement.
If he could take away the memories of betrayal and isolation as you felt your mind break and your body fail, that would work. You almost found enough spite in your heart to say it.
“I thought we were friends.” Half confession, half accusation.
“We are, bonnie, I swear –”
“No, we’re not.”
He clenched the blankets, white-knuckled with wet eyes that promised rain.
“Bonnie –”
“Stand down, Soap.”
You both turned to find Ghost peering in from the hall. He held a duffel bag, lightly dusted in snow that hadn’t quite stopped falling. Doordash had arrived with your order.
He set the bag on the end of the bed, nudging Johnny aside and nodding towards the open door. Johnny got the message, slinking out with his tail between his legs.
“Brought your things. Feel up to a shower? It would probably help at this stage. I’ll set out some towels for you.”
“Thanks.” You ignored Johnny, grateful for the escape Ghost offered from both the conversation and the room. “That sounds great.”
“I’ll get things sorted, then.”
He left you to choose your things from the bag, disappearing into the ensuite you had yet to explore. You got what you needed. Toiletries. Robe. Toothbrush. Just the basics. You’d address your hair later. And… everything else, really. You weren’t ready to see your clothes sitting folded in a tidy pile on your neighbors’ bathroom counter, even less so on their bed.
Ghost reappeared, and he pointed out the towels he’d prepared. “Assume your shower’s like ours.”
“Probably. Thanks.” Again. “I’ll just be a minute.”
“Take your time.”
A nice sentiment, but you really couldn’t. You practically jumped out of your borrowed clothes as the water heated, and you got in when it was just north of tepid. You would not use all their hot water. By now, they had to be running on generator power. The power always went out for a day or two when the big one hit. All it took was one tree.
Still, once the sweat and stress-stink washed off, your hand lingered over your chest, an echo of your host’s. He hadn’t gotten frisky. He’d been entirely respectful. But if his hand had strayed even a little…
Or a lot.
Shit. Fuck. No.
You could not get off in your neighbors’ shower. That was out of the question. Even if they didn’t hear you, it was… rude.
Your core ached, stirred from passive aggression to full on fit by the water and your overactive imagination.
Enough. You were clean. You needed to stop.
So you finished your shower (and nothing else) in record time. You wrapped yourself in your robe, wondering if Ghost had packed any sports bras comfortable enough to sleep in.
Both men were waiting for you when you emerged.
“Uh…” Were you supposed to get dressed in the bathroom? Shit. You should’ve…
“Thought it was about time you got that apology,” Ghost said. He stepped closer. His fingertips brushed over the back of your hand, conjuring goosebumps like magic. “You’re cold again.”
“I’m fine.”
“Oh, aye.” Johnny winked. Caught himself. Cleared his throat. “Really am sorry. Wanna prove it. First step towards reparations, aye?”
He inched closer as he spoke, and Ghost stepped back to give him space. You held your ground, but only out of confusion. You technically had more skin covered than you had since they rescued you, but you were hyper aware of the loose knot holding the robe closed.
“What did you have in mind?”
Tea? A year’s subscription to a meal delivery service? A note?
His eyes flicked to your lips. “Thought I could warm you up.”
Your brain sputtered. It even made a sound like your engine had when it ran out of gas.
“I don’t think I understand.”
“I think you do.”
He wasn’t touching you. Yet. But his breath fanned over your lips. His body heat reached through your robe.
His partner was in the fucking room. “You’re in a relationship.”
“Already discussed it.”
You turned to Ghost, shocked, but he was relaxed. Almost casual about his boyfriend seducing the neighbor in his bedroom.
“We both like ya, bonnie,” Johnny whispered in your ear.
You shivered.
It sounded like such a bad idea.
But you wanted it. You wanted a real apology, and a reason to forget it all ever happened.
“How about it?” Johnny was hovering. Waiting for the green light. “Let us make you feel good?”
One more time, you looked to Ghost. You had to be sure. You wanted his permission. His confirmation. He nodded. So did you.
With one hand on your cheek, drawing your attention back to him, and one on the back of your neck, your neighbor pressed you into a kiss. There was no demure pecking. No sweet warm-up. Lips, tongue, and teeth leapt into the fray at the first trumpet blast.
A gasp gave him a window of opportunity, and soon you were eagerly kissing him back, yanking on his stupid mohawk for vengeance and a pitiful attempt at control.
Johnny licked a moan out of your mouth. He scoured your whimpers clean, gulping them down with a happy rumble.
“The best apologies are given on your knees, don’t you think Johnny?”
A silent exchange passed between the men, and Johnny was all smiles.
“Couldn’t agree more. Here, sit down, pretty girl.” He arranged you on the edge of the bed, dropping to his knees to keep the kisses coming. He plucked the robe’s knot free and tugged it open. His lips stayed on yours as fabric fell away from your shoulders, legs, and chest, pooling around your wrists. There was no time for the usual, momentary panic of finding yourself naked for the first time with a new romantic partner.
One more peck, and a whispered, “Lie back, bonnie.” And he was working down your sternum, pushing your knees apart. “Gonnae give you an apology you never forget.”
The apology came letter by letter, spelled through your folds. The S snaked around your entrance, looping over your clit. The O stayed there, spinning around your bud. The Rs wandered, following the O’s path before tracing each side of your entrance. The Y started at your base and swept up, teasing either side of your clit in turns.
He said it over and over again. The clever rhythm had him smiling against you as you tugged at his mohawk, trying to chase each sensation. But his hands were strong, and he kept you spread and stationary. At the mercy of his repentance.
The Os never circled long enough, and his tongue dipped inside just enough to remind you how much you ached for more on every Y.
It was driving you crazy, and tears of frustration gathered, blurring his self-satisfied gaze. You’d had it with him. Even when he went down on you, he took his own pleasure first, playing games you had no spoons left to enjoy. You wanted him to take care of you like he’d promised. You wanted to lose yourself. Wanted to feel desired. Wanted to feel good.
Your whining plea didn’t sound at all sexy to your own ears, but the way the tongue shook with suppressed laughter between your legs proved someone was having a good time.
Solid heat you’d learned to recognize in your sleep slipped up behind you. Long, thick fingers petted back your sweaty hair, and a hand pulled you back, urging you to relax into a solid chest. Ghost, once again coming your rescue.
“Be good, Johnny,” he rumbled. “Stop teasing.”
Eyes glinting, your tormentor’s face appeared. He licked his lips with a wolf’s fervor, eyes flashing from yours to Ghost’s.
“Yes, sir.” His voice had gone rough. Deep. You shuddered, and he squeezed your thighs. “Mind givin’ me a hand, LT?”
Ghost huffed, almost a dry laugh, and his hands left you. You had a mind to complain again, but then his grip appeared under your knees, lifting and spreading even farther than Johnny wheedled earlier. You were obscene. You were desperate.
“You doing alright? Let us make you feel better. Give Johnny the chance to start paying you back for all the trouble he’s caused, yeah?”
One hand clamped onto his arm, unsure whether you planned to push it away or simply cling on. As you vacillated, Johnny craned forward, blew on you, and you spasmed. Your free hand jumped back to Ghost’s balaclava, and you knew what you wanted.
“Yeah. I’m alright. Please.”
“You heard the woman.”
“Happy to serve.” Johnny grinned, nearly feral, and lunged forward with fresh determination.
Now free, his fingers pulled you open, giving him better access to the mess he’d made with all his teasing. His tongue pressed hard, spearing deep as it could reach. It worked relentlessly, trying to scoop out every last drop, but the slick only grew, and he returned to your clit.
Ghost held you at an angle that defied your attempts to ride Johnny’s face, and you turned into a twitching, writhing mass in his lap. When his partner started suckling your bud, you shrieked, and Ghost crooned. His thumbs worked circles in your flesh, soothing the edge of delirium rising with your pleasure.
“Good girl. There you go. Finally letting us take care of you.”
A finger pressed inside, petting and curling as it hunted for the right spot. Every muscle rolled, trying to participate, to join the dance, and then Johnny found what he was looking for, and you screamed.
He’d tormented you so long. You didn’t have a chance to give a warning or brace for the snap. Your orgasm practically exploded, and for a minute you couldn’t even breathe. Everything froze, trying to catch and keep the high as your vision went white and your ears rang. Your thoughts ran slow and thick, like honey in winter, just soft enough for Ghost’s words to penetrate.
“How you feelin’? Rung out or ready for more?”
What a stupid question. Appreciated, but stupid. You’d ask for more until your voice gave out.
You consciously, carefully unclenched your fingers from his mask, from his sleeve. He still held you open, shivering and bare apart from Johnny’s face, still pressing slow kisses with tongue and teeth anywhere he was tempted to taste. Glimmers of firelight caught in the arousal smeared over his cheeks.
“More.”
Johnny muttered something very Scottish you couldn’t quite make out through the fading white noise in your head. But your eyes worked perfectly well, and he put on a show, yanking off his shirt, showing off like he used to when he shoveled the drive.
“Tell her, Johnny,” Ghost prompted. “Give her everything you’ve been thinking since you moved in here.”
“Fuck.” The Scotsman worked his belt free as talked, staring at you. His eyes roved, chasing the paths his tongue had traveled, rising to your heaving chest, to your face, so close to his LT’s commanding gaze. “Heard the neighbor was a hermit. Expected – doesnae matter. Prettiest hermit I’d ever fuckin’ seen. Showin’ up with biscuits and makin’ friendly.” The belt swished free from its loops and clattered to the ground. “Had me graspin’ after my manners with one look. An' after I tried catchin’ your eye in the snow, you took care of me an all.” He popped his button free. The zipper went down. “Wanted to bring ya inside and make things cozy. Had to wait for Ghost. Had to let ‘im see ya. Let him understand.” His hand slipped under his clothes, bringing a swollen red tip peeking over the elastic of his underwear.
“Should’a heard him on the phone,” Ghost murmured in your ear as Johnny pushed down his remaining clothes, already hard and weeping for you. “Thought he was gonna come to just the thought of you some nights. Started giving me ideas before I even had a chance to thank you for minding him.”
Naked, practically glowing in the fire, Johnny swooped down for a kiss. He squeezed a breast, thumbing the nipple relentlessly until you broke for air. Everything about him hummed with energy. A livewire sparking over the street. “Wanna fuck you. Please? Please let me fuck you, bonnie. Sweetest little cunt I’ve ever had. Please?”
Standing where he was, and held as you were, his dick rubbed against you as he spoke.
You were going to combust, and you’d enjoy every fucking second of it. All thoughts of snow and ice had melted. Everything had turned to steam.
“Yes.” He’d dived to work a hickey into your neck during your brief hesitation, and you fought to even whisper your answer. “Please.”
He lined up, rocking shallowly once, twice, and pushing home in a long, burning stroke. You yelped, and he moaned, both going still until the sting had passed. By the time you nodded your permission, he had his hands on your hips, trembling with need.
He fucked you like he was dying. Like you were his last meal and the only lifeline thrown in a storm. It was months of yearning, months of confusion and false starts and greedy hunger that spilled over and burned you like hot wax. There was no shelter – not that you wanted any – and you once again seized Ghost’s arms because they were the only fucking thing he’d let you reach. They would take care of you. You weren’t allowed to do any of the work. Not in that bed. Not that night.
Johnny keened, huffing and growling and whimpering as he went faster and faster. He brought you so far. So close. Just a little more.
But not enough.
His hips stuttered, his head bowed, and his warm release splashed out.
“Fuck.” Blushing from exertion – and probably something else – he looked up from where he was still balls-deep to sheepishly meet your eyes. “I swear, never finished so fast in my life. Didn’t get you there in time, did I?”
He pulled out, and you dropped your head back on Ghost’s shoulder with a wail of frustration. You were too close to stop now. You reached down to touch yourself, but before you could rub one out, Ghost shifted. He moved closer to the edge of the bed, dropping one of your legs to swat your hand away from your clit.
When you didn’t fight him, he reached behind you, and you both heard and felt him work his cock free.
“May I?”
Too horny and too frustrated, you nodded wildly. “I said I trusted you.”
“Glad to hear it.”
He didn’t pick up where Johnny left off. Thick fingers that had really only held you up to this point reached down, groping over breast and belly to reach your center. Long strokes kept the spark in your belly alive as he ran his hand over you, lubing his fingers in the mixed spend.
One dipped in. He paused, considering. Then a second joined.
“Minute I saw you at the door, knew you were a carer,” he said. “Knew it’d been so long since someone took care of you that you’d forgotten how a good neighbor should act.” The fingers curled, scissored, working you with clear and vulgar intent. “Wanted to be more than neighbors. Had to close that door quick. Every filthy thing Johnny said hit me, and I wasn’t fit company.” The full implications of that didn’t quite hit you in the moment, but a hazy vision of him watching you through the windows, palming an erection sent your cunt fluttering.
A third finger. All together, they were wider than Johnny’s cock. A deep breath helped. The thumb flicking over your clit like a moth drawn to a porchlight did more. “Had to figure out how to fix all the fuck ups then. So many delays. Took too damn long.” He pulled his hand free, denying you release.
“You said you’d take care of me.”
“We will, sweatheeart. Easy now.” His hand hovered in front of you, fingers spread so he could watch his good work cling and drip like a liquid spiderweb between his digits. “Fuck. You’re perfect.”
He spread his knees, pushing yours wider, and he lifted you up until his dick rubbed over your entrance. Even without looking, you could tell he was massive. You’d need to relax. You’d need to trust him.
Unlike Johnny, he took things slow. He read every flutter and clench, every gasp and hiss like he was fluent in your personal language of carnality. The stretch constantly rode the edge of too much, but it touched places no one else had reached, stuffed your senses full of bliss. And he was so careful. Tactical.
When he’d sheathed himself, his hands slid to your thighs, positioning you in a similar way as before.
“Think you’ve got more apologizing to do, Johnny.”
“Yes, sir.”
You’d closed your eyes at some point, overwhelmed by everything Ghost had to give, but you snapped to attention when a tongue ran over your clit. Johnny smiled up at you, pleased as punch. Devious fucker.
Ghost thrust, and the sound he pushed out of your mouth was pure filth. Helpless, you made it again with the second push. It happened again and again until it became an unbroken string of praise and pleas. Johnny made a game of keeping his tongue on you, pulling back, going still so Ghost would bounce you along it as he drove into you.
A hand pressed over your lower belly, and you moaned in tandem with Johnny.
“Fuck, Simon. Can feel you moving in her.”
After Johnny’s performance, Ghost clearly had something to prove. The first time you came, you clenched so hard on his dick it actually slowed him down. You thought that would be it, that he’d ride high to the end having achieved his goal. Instead, he kept going, fucking you brainless as Johnny actually giggled below. A second climax left you boneless, and by the third you’d entered a fugue state. Ghost slowed down until you could respond (I’m okay.) and then he drove you over the edge until you forgot how to count. Johnny offered kitten licks and praise throughout. When Ghost finally finished - pulling you flush to his chest and panting in your ear (Good fucking woman.) it was Johnny’s attention to your clit that broke you. He sucked and worked his tongue under your clitoral hood like he was sucking nectar from a honeysuckle blossom.
But you were tapped.
“Can’t. Too much.”
Johnny disengaged immediately, and two pairs of hands lifted you from where you sat impaled. Soft words and warm washcloths bathed you in the afterglow. Gentle suggestions guided you under the covers, and a familiar touch turned you to rest with your back to a heated chest. Warmth crowded in from the front, too, murmured joy and praise leaking through the haze to find you.
You didn’t even realize as you slept that you’d found something far better than a good neighbor. But that understanding would come with the dawn, a cup of tea, and a suggestion to go thrifting when the weather broke so you could find a matching set of truly hideous mugs.
#fic: neighborly#ghoap x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#john soap mactavish x reader#soap mactavish x reader#simon riley x reader#cod x reader#141 x reader
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if you didnt yet can you do thanos nsfw alphabet please..
yesss>_
Thanos NSFW alphabet
A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
He goes straight to sleep next to you, leaving you in there in a mess filled with a mix of your cum and his, but as soon as he wakes up he cleans you up trust
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
His favorite body part about you is your tummy, he doesn’t care if your insecure abt it he just likes to lay on it and touch it randomly, he also likes to press down on it too feel how deep he is
His favorite body apart about him is his dick, straight up
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
He loves to make a huge mess with his cum, if you aren’t on the pill he would cum everywhere, your face. your tummy, chest, ass, LEGS.
But if you aren’t on the pill he’s cumming deep inside you he’s taking advantage of the pill
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
His dirty secret is sharing your nudes with Nam-gyu..not in a weird way just in a “bro look at my girl”
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
He’s experienced. He knows exactly what to do
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
Missionary: he likes seeing your reaction and the way your eyes roll back
Doggystyle: he loves to see how your ass jiggles each thrust he takes
Cowgirl; to see your boobs bounce
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
A bit goofy, he makes jokes every now and than
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
He doesn’t really shave that much but he obviously won’t let it get TOO hairy.. but other than he shaves it so it doesn’t ruin the mood
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
He’s gets into the moment and starts roaming his hands around your body like he’s some virgin
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
Maybe every few weeks, he does jerk off to your nudes or sex tapes that yall make
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
hair pulling, degrading, spanking
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
All over the house
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
you wearing skirts, dirty talk, teasing, dirty talking thru the phone
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
wax, fire, ice. or gun play
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
He doesn’t really care, sex is sex, but he does eat you out so i’ll say giving
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
You will never catch this man going soft and slow. If you’re gonna have sex with him prepare to get fucked real bad.
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
He is down for quickies, i’ll say probably a bit often he does quickies with you
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
He will take risk, sometimes he even likes to test how loud you’ll go in public or infront of someone
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
He can last about 7 rounds at most. He goes so feral during sex he doesn’t want to stop
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
No toys
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
He teases A LOT but mainly when your getting punished
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
low pants, groans and growls, maybe even soft whimpers
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
He forces you to watch him jerk off infront of you
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
6 inches, 7 when hard
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
VERY high.
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards
the moment he pulls out.
#squid game#squid game season 2#squid game x reader#squid game s2#squid game smut#choi su bong smut#choi su bong#choi su bong x reader#thanos squid game#thanos x reader#player 230 x reader#player 230 smut#player 230
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battle of wills
Sae wants to act funny, but he doesn’t know you’re about to act hilarious.
wc — 2.7k
tags — romantic mind games, thinking of Sae like a predator that plays with his food, jealousy, possessiveness
“I don’t care who you fuck,” he says with a shrug. “We’re not dating.”
Your hands still on the collar of his shirt that you’re smoothing down. It’s ten minutes before your dinner reservation, which means you’re going to be late, but you know the maître d' so it should be fine. It would be, if Sae didn’t insist on opening his fat mouth once a week to try to break your heart so he can prove to himself that he’s not invested.
He’s not fooling anyone. You know you have him, hook, line, and sinker. When you made that joke about getting Kaiser’s number, it was just a joke. You didn’t even say you wanted to sleep with him! Sae came up with that implication all by himself.
You have three options and only a few seconds to decide. Sweat beads on your forehead. You can practically see the timer run out, like an imaginary game with a big fat red buzzer letting you know you failed.
You can:
a) say “we’re not dating?” in a whiny little broken voice and make it obvious you liked Sae more than he liked you
b) sit in silence and make it awkward like you are currently doing
c) fuck around and find out
So you only have one option, really. You’re not a coward, so it can’t be b, and you’d rather choke on your fancy steak tonight and die then ever let a man think he played you and got away with it.
“Cool,” you say. “I’ll let Kaiser know he has your permission.”
You’re joking, but you don’t think he is.
“Cool,” Sae replies, but he’s so disinterested that you think he didn’t even hear the last half of your sentence.
Dinner is great even though Sae is an asshole because he somehow still makes it fun to be with him. Your friends all ask you why you want him. They don’t see what you see; they think you’re just after the football fame, the fortune, the model like beauty.
You’re a little more twisted than that.
When you press your patent heel up against Sae’s calf, he doesn’t even flinch. He takes a long, slow draught of water - because he doesn’t drink alcohol, which is deliriously sexy to you for some reason - and raises an eyebrow at you. Everything about him is cool and collected, even when you inch higher and higher until you’re practically right between his legs.
His hand slips under the table, grabs your ankle, and repositions it on his lap. He doesn’t spare a thought for how your dirty shoes are on his nice slacks. When you try to retract your foot because this is dangerous, this is not what you expected, his hand locks you in place.
He holds your eye across the table. You wanted this, his eye contact says. Be good and take it.
Sae is hard to read.
He can be so apathetic, so indifferent to your words, and then draw warm, lazy circles on your pulse with his thumb. He looks mildly amused when your brain short circuits in the middle of your sentence, every neuron redirected to the feeling of his hand on your ankle, soaking in heat from his palm.
You want to pull him apart and see what makes him tick. For you, love is almost like dissection. You want to be able to know him so intimately no one else will ever be able to say they come close.
Although he apparently doesn’t feel the same about you.
Knowing Sae is a rare privilege all in itself. You thought you were content. When you first met him, that’s all it was: fun. You liked pulling him apart and putting him back together, figuring out which parts of Sae were real and which were a front. But now, after a few months, you’re hooked. It’s become more than a game. It’s an addiction.
The more he rejects you, the more you want him.
You don’t think you’ve ever been this pathetic in your life. You’ve never chased anyone the way you’ve done for him.
It’s killing you to think about the numbers he’s done on your reputation. Your friends already think you’re whipped.
You’re afraid to admit they’re right, and that’s the real reason you’re upset about what he said earlier. You never thought you were dating but you thought -
Ugh. You don’t know why you expected him to care.
Sae is, if an asshole, also a gentleman, so he pays for dinner and sends you home in an Uber on his card.
You smile pleasantly until you get into the car and then you’re practically tearing your hair out. You need to make him regret this.
So obviously the question now is who would make Sae the sickest to find out you got with? Who would have that man holding his stomach in tears?
Shidou is too obvious and also you doubt that Sae would care. In a funny way, Shidou is the least you can do to him.
Oliver? No, he’s too much of a slut. This needs to be a hit and run, an attack, but targeted. Aiku is just too easy to make Sae feel anything besides mild annoyance that you fucked his captain.
You’d have to butter Kaiser up before you even got near him, and besides, Sae didn’t even react when you brought him up earlier.
Your brain flinches away from Rin’s face when it pops up in your brain like you touched a hot stove, a solid rejection you don’t even have to think about.
No.
It hurts too much. You’re angry but you still care about Sae. This is-
You want to piss him off, not hurt him irrevocably. Dating Rin right after not-dating him would be something the two of you couldn’t come back from.
Even if Sae likes to pretend he’s not sensitive when it comes to his little brother, you know better.
Back to the drawing board.
The most important part is that Sae can’t know you’re trying to make him jealous, so it has to come up organically. You’re aiming for a teammate because you need someone who will talk about it in Sae’s locker room, someone who can get it to Sae without making it too obvious.
All paths lead to Oliver Aiku.
Unfortunately.
You don’t even know if this is going to work.
“Just so you know,” you tell him, “you weren’t my first choice.”
“Aw, why?” He asks. “You don’t think I’ll get Sae mad enough?”
“Are you kidding me? If anything, he’s going to think I’ve lowered my standards! He’s not going to regret losing me, he’s going to think that I’m so pathetic his little rejection sent me off the deep end!”
“But then he’ll be right,” Oliver says. “Considering he did lower your standards and send you off the deep end. You’re standing in my living room right now, aren’t you?”
You squint at him. “And I can walk right back out, so don’t test me.”
“Don’t be like that,” Oliver purrs. “I’m great at making men jealous.”
“I’m not sure that’s something to be proud of.”
"Don't worry, sweetheart. I’m going to take you somewhere your man couldn’t even dream of taking you.”
“Oliver, this is a Wendy’s.”
“Sae would never dream of taking you here,” he shrugs. “Wow, good bite! You’re great at eating.”
“Okay, one, that’s a weird thing to say, and two, I’m going to go find someone else if you can’t help me. I know you can’t help yourself but since I’m your friend, I thought at the very least, you would try not to waste my time.”
“Yeesh, calm down-“
“Don’t tell me to calm down!”
“My bad,” he says cheerfully. “Trust me, I have a plan.”
“I don’t trust you,” you say pointedly, narrowing your eyes at him.
He ignores you. “What makes a man angrier than thinking you moved on?”
“Moving on with his rival?”
“Close. Thinking he never had you. See, Sae takes you on these fancy dates to high end restaurants and museums and what not. But you know how he is. He’s with you but he’s not really with you. You gotta beat him at his own game. Let him think that you were just indulging him when really this is what you want.” He scoots his chair closer to you until you can practically feel the warmth of him radiating through his thin shirt. His cologne smells like jasmine, a strangely delicate scent for him. “Make him feel like he never really knew you, because I’m the one who does.”
You breathe in the scent of his feminine cologne, stalling. It would be so easy to listen to Oliver. It would be so easy to let him in your heart. He knows what to say and when to say it.
In a way, he does know you.
Familiarity is unavoidable with time, and you’ve been friends of circumstance for ages.
“You just wanted an excuse to take me to Wendy’s,” you say with a fake laugh that is so perfected, you can only pick up the stilted quality of it if you really, really listen.
He pulls out of your space a little, a smile playing on his lips. “You know me so well. That too.”
Oliver knows you a little too well. He says the right things at the right times because he’s telling you what you want to hear.
Are you destined to be toyed with by beautiful football players?
In the car on the way back to your house, Oliver texts you. “Get him back for me, playa.”
In the locker room, Oliver doesn’t start the conversation because that would be too obvious. He’s a respectful man, he doesn’t kiss and tell. It would be out of character for him to start bringing up last night’s exploits and Sae would catch on instantaneously.
He waits until Sendou, not subtly, tries to ask him who that pretty girl he posted last night was.
“Are you sure that was a girl? Aiku never posts who he’s with. It was probably his sister.”
Oliver doesn’t see who said that, but he doesn’t take offense. Again, he doesn’t kiss and tell. Whoever he’s with is a secret.
He lets them simmer for a little bit more before he casually drops your name, saying it was just a friendly meal. Out of the corner of his eye, Sae stops putting on his shirt.
“I’ll say,” Sendou says. “You took her to Wendy’s? That’s foul even for you.”
“Maybe she likes Wendy’s,” Aiku says. “You don’t know her.”
Although that last part isn’t really directed at Sendou.
It’s rare for Sae to willingly open social media, but here he is, scrolling through Oliver’s story. Your face is never in any of the pictures, but he can tell. You’re-
His brain stutters to a halt.
You’re wearing the necklace he bought you on a date with another man.
There’s only one picture left in Oliver’s stories from last night, but of course that demon would’ve saved the best for last. It’s a simple shot. You’re sitting outside somewhere, under the stars. His hand is holding yours from across the table, your arm stretched out towards him. It’s the only one with a sliver of your face in it, the edge of a sweet, tender smile.
Sae doesn’t fight. He’s not the type. But over you?
He fights the only way he knows how. Through football.
When Sae calls you after practice, you fumble your phone so hard it drops out of your hands and into the sink. You had fun with Oliver last night, but deep down, you didn’t really think Sae would care, as much as you wanted him to. It’s just the way he is.
By the time you fish your phone out, it’s making strange noises and unable to return Sae’s call. You don’t feel like going out today after your wild night - crying onto Aiku’s shoulder through mouthfuls of French fries - so you resolve to pick a new one up tomorrow.
Sae will wait. He’s very patient.
Sae shows up on your doorstep within thirty minutes of your denied call. He lives twenty minutes away, if he speeds.
Now he’s sitting in your living room, drinking water from your favorite mug while you squirm uncomfortably. He, on the other hand, seems content to sit in silence.
“You hung out with Aiku last night,” he says.
Now that he’s actually in the room, you feel like you did something wrong. It’s insane how much influence Sae has over you. He hurt you, but retaliation somehow feels like getting caught with your hand in a cookie jar.
“Yes,” you mumble.
“Hm? Speak up.”
“So what if I did?”
Sae raises an eyebrow. “Nothing. I don’t mind who you hang out with.”
“Fine,” you say. “Guess I’ll hang out with him again. Since you don’t care.”
His mouth curls into a smile behind his mug. That motherfucker. It’s ticking you off. He’s so in control of himself, so smug and pleased and -
“Do you want to be my girlfriend?”
“You know, since you care so much- huh?”
“Do you want to start dating?” He rephrases patiently.
You stammer for a bit before you’re able to reply coherently. “I thought you didn’t want to.”
“Did I say that?”
“Yes,” you hiss. “You made it very clear.”
“I don’t remember saying that,” he says and sets his mug down. When he stands, terror rises in you. He’s coming over. He’s sitting back on his haunches in front of you on the couch, eye to eye. “I just said that we weren’t dating. But I’d like to.”
“You only want me because I was with another man,” you say faintly. You’re trying to act cute, playful, but you’re not sure it’s working. There’s not enough blood going to your brain.
“You want me to beg, don’t you?”
You can’t deny how excited that makes you. Part of it is the way he says it, his voice slow and measured, deepening near the end. Part of it is just hearing ‘beg’ come out of Sae’s mouth.
“Okay, then. You don’t like Wendy’s.”
God, you hate men. Who cares about Wendy’s? Why do they always argue about this? Oliver and Sae both-
“You like the places we go. You like,” he tugs lightly on your necklace in a way that stops just shy of stinging. “The way I spoil you.” He pushes you back onto the couch and leans over you. “You like the way I know,” his nose brushes over the carotid artery in your neck, “what makes you feel good.”
“So I can beg if you want me to.” He’s all in your space, filling it up. All you can smell and feel and see is Sae. You feel paralyzed by his eyes. Devoured whole. “I can get on my knees for you and let you put a leash around my neck and promise that you can have anything you want from me. But let’s not pretend that you want anyone else but me.”
Okay. So maybe you do care about Wendy’s.
“Aiku thinks he knows you,” Sae says, his voice calm and easy. It’s like he’s laying out a mathematical formula instead of confessing his love, but it’s so Sae. “He doesn’t. I know you.”
You whimper.
Sae laughs dryly.
You don’t sleep in your own bed that night. Sae drives you both back to his apartment, insists on brushing your teeth for you with the toothbrush he bought for you, and does your skincare routine before he tucks you into bed.
You’re half asleep when he says, “You think you’re so clever, don’t you?”
“Huh?” You mumble, facedown in his pillow. It smells like him.
Sae leans over so he can kiss your forehead. When he whispers, it’s directly in your ear. “You think you tied me down, huh?”
You’re wide awake now. “Obviously,” you snap back, annoyed that he’s still trying to play these games. You know he’s not indifferent to you, you just wish he would-
“No, dear,” Sae says. The pet name sends chills down your spine. “I trapped you.”
#sera writes#itoshi sae x reader#itoshi sae fluff#itoshi sae x y/n#itoshi sae x you#blue lock fluff#blue lock x reader
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Heyy i dont exactly know how to write request So im trying to do it like this i guess?..
Andd i would really like if you could do like heian sukuna nsfw? When its like morning, And reader wakes up to sukuna kissing her neck?
Pretty please 😞🩷
YES MA'AM HAHAHAH YESSSS this is gonna be true form sukuna btw... cus im kinda feral for him.
❝ use your words ❞
summary: you look so fucking cute when you're sleeping.
featuring... ryomen sukuna
content warning: MDNI (18+), fem!reader, slight somnophilia, true form sukuna, two dicks sukuna, double penetration oh god, ass play, anal (im sorry but im also not), fingering, anal fingering, spitting, cuddlefucking then doggy, choking, hair pulling, unprotected sex, creampie (naughty naughty) rough sex, spanking, squirting, heian era sukuna, possessive sukuna, toxic relationship maybe?, biting, marking, swears?, size kink!, dirty talk, overstimulation, hand mouth oh lord.
author's note: FERAL I AM FERAL– IM SORRY IF THIS IS TOO MUCH BUT I GOT CARRIED AWAY IM SORRY ANON
Sukuna finds it hard to resist you in this state.
He's not sure what it is about you. Perhaps the way your soft lips part as little breaths fan across his arm under your head, or maybe it's the way your yukata parts, showing the gentle swell of your breasts, your chest rising and falling slowly as you breathe.
He tends to just watch you when you're like this. Revel in the way your smaller body presses against his stocky build, how your small hands are clutched around his thick wrist.
He likes the power he has over you, how could he not? You're so fucking cute and innocent and it drives him mad.
You have no idea the effect you have on him, but you can sure feel it when he presses it against your clothed ass when you're busying yourself with chores or getting ready for your day.
Sukuna is always stalking around nearby, keeping a watchful eye (or eyes) on you. You're a good girl, you behave yourself, always willing and ready to please him. That's what he keeps you around for after all.
Because no one can compare to you.
Sukuna struggles to be gentle with you most of the time. Always grabbing and pulling and manhandling you into whatever position he wants you in.
But when you're sleeping so soundly beside him, your little ass wriggling against his hips and your eyelashes resting atop your cheeks, he almost wants to be gentle to keep you asleep.
One of Sukuna's hands rests on your waist, fingers slipping beneath the fabric of your loose yukata to touch your tummy. You're so warm and so cute.
He lifts his head, licking his lips as his eyes catch the soft skin of your neck and shoulder. He can't help himself, pressing a soft kiss to your neck, lips grazing over the numerous love bites in various stages of healing over your pretty skin.
You whine in your sleep, eyes screwing shut at the feeling of his lips across your sensitive neck.
"Shhh, shhh," he coos against your ear, another one of his hands pulling your yukata open, exposing your pretty tits to the cool night air.
Your little hands tighten around his forearm and he smirks against your neck. Another one of his lower arms moves down your exposed body toward your unclothed cunt, still wet and soft from earlier in the night.
His graze your wet heat, cunt still glistening with slick, just the way he likes to leave you.
Sukuna's lower arm snakes around your thigh, gently lifting your outer leg over his thick thigh, pressing his tight muscles against your unclothed heat.
"'Kuna?" your voice comes out in a tired whine, still quiet and laced with sleep.
"Go back to sleep, little one," he mutters against your ear, pressing a kiss to the underside of your jaw.
"Mm–" you hum, your hand grabbing at his large hand splayed over your tummy.
Sukuna finally presses his rough fingers against your clit, already swollen and red, begging for his attention. You let out a whiny moan at the feeling, your hand coming up to thread through Sukuna's hair as he kisses and bites at your neck.
"S'wet for me," he teases, grinning against your neck as your slick leaks out of you and onto his fingers, allowing him to quicken his pace against your little clit.
"Mm, 'Kuna, please," you whine, humping and grinding your hips against his thick, strong thigh.
"S'needy," his voice is low but he gives in to you, pressing his thick fingers into your little hole. You're only taking two of his fingers to the first knuckle and you're so tight. "Relax, little one. I can't give you what you want if you don't relax."
You do your best, releasing the tension in your thighs and letting Sukuna plunge his fingers into your gummy walls.
You throw your head back, allowing Sukuna to nip at your skin, your neck glistening with saliva from his wet kisses.
Sukuna's fingers are big and long, always able to reach parts of you that you could never reach with your own fingers, not that you ever have to anymore with how attentive Sukuna can be (more like he's always ready to fuck you good if you just say the word).
Sukuna lifts his thigh, pulling your legs further apart to fuck your little cunt open with his fingers, his fingers curling against the spongy spot inside you before scissoring you open to get you ready for him.
Sukuna isn't the type to get you off with just his fingers. He likes to, getting a fucking ego boost from the fact he can make you fall apart using just his hands.
But where's the fun in just getting you off?
"That's it, brat," he smirks, your slick dripping down the inside of your thighs and coating Sukuna's hand. "Always such a good girl f'me."
Sukuna manifests a mouth on his palm, a tongue sticking out to flick over your neglected clit. You whine loudly, your hand grabbing at his wrist because it's just too much. It feels too good.
Sukuna clicks his tongue, "mm-mm, little one. You're gonna take it, hm?"
It's not a question, it's a command.
His upper arm grabs at your hand, lifting it away from his lower wrist to pin it above your head.
Your thighs shake and your tummy burns as the tongue and fingers between your legs send you hurtling over the edge of bliss, your head throwing back with a loud moan, tears pricking the corners of your eyes and he fingers fucks you through your high.
"'Kuna-! P-Please," you cry out, thighs attempting to squeeze together as his fingers and tongue begin to overstimulate you.
"What's that, little one? Please what?" he's teasing you. Trying to embarrass you and make you beg.
"Fuck me," you whine, "please, please–"
"You think you deserve it? Going to bed with no panties? Sleeping in this thin little thing," he emphasises by rubbing your hardened nipple over the thin fabric of your yukata. "you wanted this, hm?"
"I always want you, 'Kuna," you let out a breathy sigh, "always wanna be ready f'you."
He smirks against your skin, "such a good little girl."
Sukuna suddenly rolls you onto your tummy, lifting your yukata over your ass (which is still red with bites and slap marks from the night before).
You help him as he uses his lower arms to lift your hips up, propping your ass up against his hardened clothed cocks.
"Feel what you do to me, little one?" he smirks, rolling your hips against his. "you have no shame."
You press your face into the sheets below, hands gripping the fabric as Sukuna kneads the flesh of your cute little ass.
Your back arches when Sukuna runs the pad of his thumb over the tight ring of muscles that is your little asshole. You're always so responsive to him, he's sure he'll never get enough of you.
"Such a whore having your little ass played with," his voice is low and god he likes teasing you because it's so easy.
"'Kuna," you whine as he circles your little asshole, your cunt spasming and throbbing without even being touched.
Sukuna leans over you, letting a glob of spit fall from his mouth and onto your tight rim. You moan at the coolness of it, resting your forehead against your forearm to attempt muffling your moans.
Sukuna chuckles lowly at you before pressing his thumb into your ass, just to the first knuckle, but enough for you to grip the sheets and pant at the burning stretch.
He's done this before, you've let him fuck your ass countless times but you'll never be able to get over how fucking good it feels to have him stretch you open.
Sukuna's upper arms are gripping your hips to keep your from squirming away from his touch while his lower hands play with you. One of them with a thumb in your ass while the other kneads at your asscheek and spreads you open.
He takes it slow at first, but Sukuna is not known for patience.
He presses the rest of his thumb into your ass, unable to resist a chuckle as you moan and cry into the pillows. He pumps his thumb in a few times before he pulls it out, letting you relax for half a moment before his fingers, still wet from the slick of your orgasm, press into your asshole to stretch you open for his thick cock.
"Mm– F-Fuck–" you curse, fist scrunching into the sheets.
One of Sukuna's upper hands suddenly grips your hair, pulling you up against him harshly, your thighs quivering.
"M'gonna fuck your little ass and your pussy at the same time, can you handle that f'me, little one?"
You nod your head without thinking, feeling Sukuna's thick fingers inside you making you absolutely dizzy.
"Mhm-! I can do it," you cry out, his other hand coming up to wrap around your pretty throat, squeezing softly.
"Mm, good girl, I know you can do it," he grins, finally letting go of your hair and your throat to force you back down onto the mattress.
Sukuna finally pulls his fingers out of your ass and shrugs off the yukata draped over him, letting his hard, leaking cocks spring free, his upper cock slapping against his toned abdomen.
You peer behind you and watch as Sukuna pumps his upper cock, the tip red, leaking and angry.
You gulp back the spit pooling in your mouth, your pupils dilated as you peer up at his toned, tattooed body with those cute little eyes.
"I'll start gentle, baby girl," he smirks, already reading your mind with how you eye his cock closely.
He'll start gentle. Key word is start.
Sukuna grips his upper cock, his free hand spreading your slick over his cock to make it easier to push into your tight ass.
You let out a choked moan when he presses his tip against the tight ring of muscles, slowly easing his tip inside you. You cry and whine against the mattress as Sukuna eases into you.
"Shh, shh, you want the whole country to know what a whore you are for my cocks?" Sukuna coos, hands gripping your hips.
You don't know what fucking planet you're on when Sukuna finally bottoms out inside your ass, feeling every ridge and vein of his heavy cock.
"Told you to relax," Sukuna grunts, landing a hard smack! to your ass.
"M'trying," you cry, tears slipping down your flushed cheeks, "just s'big, 'Kuna."
Sukuna smirks and chuckles before pulling half way out and slamming his hips back in, your plush ass rippling against his hips.
Your thighs quiver and shake, back arching as Sukuna slowly and achingly pumps his thick cock into your ass, trying to loosen you just a little so he can fuck you into oblivion.
You nearly fucking scream when he lifts his other cock tip to your wet little cunt, pressing the tip inside you.
You feel so fucking full.
Sukuna fucks the air out of you when he sheathes both of his cocks into your snug little ass and cunt. You feel fucking dizzy, like your head will explode with how full of him you feel.
He's stretching you open and it burns but fuck it feels so good.
He lets you adjust for a moment, feeling your holes clench around him, so tight it might snap his cocks clean off.
"Feels good, huh?" He knows it feels good, your body is telling him everything he needs to know.
From how your cunt drips, slick running down your thighs, coating his cock and soaking the blankets below you. From how you pant and cry and whine like the little crybaby you are. He makes you feel so fucking good and it goes straight to his head.
"M'gonna move, little one. You gonna take it?"
You nod your head, panting against the mattress.
"Words," he commands, yanking on your hair again. "Use your words."
You bite at your lip, the burn in your skull from how hard he's gripping your hair would be awful if you weren't so tragically into it.
"I wan' you to move," you pant out, "please, 'Kuna."
He smirks at the little nickname before letting go of your hair to wrap his thick hand around your throat, squeezing softly as he pulls almost all the way out before slamming his hips back in.
Sukuna sets a brutal pace, your ass sore and red from how hard his hips slam against it. Your hands don't know what to grab so you grab at his hand around your throat.
Sukuna is strong enough to hold you up with just an arm, he's always been stronger than you with how he manhandles and carries you around.
His hands are all over you, gripping your hip, another gripping your throat, another circling your clit while his last free hand gropes at your bouncing tits.
Sukuna loves to overstimulate you, he loves how fucked out and stupid you get when you can't take all the pleasure he's giving you.
So he manifests mouths on all his hands, tongues flicking over your clit and nipples and throat. You scream out a choked moan, eyes rolling back in your head at the feeling of Sukuna everywhere.
His thick cocks split you open, pumping hard inside you and prodding at the most sensitive parts of you.
He bullies his cocks into you, the lewd skin on skin and squelches bouncing off the walls.
You're so damn loud and Sukuna can't get enough of it.
"M'gonna cum in your ass and cunt, little one. You want that?" He's teasing you again, he's gonna cum inside you no matter what, it's where his seed belongs, dripping from your little holes.
"Yes, yes-! I wan' it," you choke out.
"Good, cus I'm gonna fuck you full."
If he could fuck you any harder you'd say it was impossible, but Sukuna was never one to be strapped down by such absurdity.
Sukuna fucks you harder, tip prodding against your cervix while the other reaches deeper and deeper into your ass. He's groaning and grunting behind you, muttering about what a good girl you are while teasing you about being a whore for him.
You feel your belly burn but it feels different this time, a pressure building in your lower belly that hurts.
"W-Wait, 'Kuna– Something feels w-weird!"
Sukuna chuckles against your shoulder, biting down on the skin, "just let it happen, little one, 's gonna feel so good."
"Mm, b-but–" you cut yourself off with a moan as you feel something snap.
You gush hard around Sukuna's cocks, crying out as you squirt all over his lower abdomen, his thighs, your thighs and the blankets.
Sukuna can only laugh as he fucks you through your high, hands gripping your hips to slam you back to meet his thrusts.
"That's it, baby girl, s'good," he grunts out as he feels his own release crash into him, spurting hot ropes of his cum against your gummy walls.
You go limp as he continues to fuck you through his own high, fucking you so full of his cum that it slips out of your tight holes and down your legs.
Sukuna finally stops, cocks throbbing inside you as he lets go of your throat, allowing you to pant and whimper against the blankets.
"Hah, s'good, brat," he groans, finally pulling out of you with a quiet pop!
You whimper at the emptiness, your holes still spasming as his thick cum leaks out of you.
"Hah, that's a sight."
You feel like you're floating, your ass still in the air as you pant, attempting to catch your breath.
Sukuna stands up, disappearing somewhere before lifting your head.
You're covered in a thin sheen of sweat, your baby hairs sticking to your skin and your eyes tired and fucked out.
Sukuna's fingers rest under your chin as he eyes you.
"You did good, brat," he praises.
You smile tiredly before he leans down to press the softest kiss to your lips, something that is entirely rare for Sukuna.
"Yeah..." he mutters against your lips, "you did good, but you're not done."
Sukuna smirks against you before letting go of your chin and gripping the base of his still-hard upper cock. Your little doe eyes meet his and he raises a brow expectantly before pressing the tip to your lips.
"Well? Open up, little one."
author's note: i'm so bricked up. happy 1,000 followers!!!
#oh lawd heaven isnt an option now#jjk#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen#x reader#jjk megumi x reader#jjk smut#sukuna x reader#ryomen sukuna x reader#sukuna ryomen#ryomen sukuna#jjk sukuna#jjk sukuna x reader#sukuna smut#jjk sukuna smut#sukuna#true form sukuna#true form sukuna smut
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Seonghwa and his big dick energy, I can literally feel it in my bones.
Imagine Seonghwa slapping his big cock against your parted, swollen lips.
"That's what you want, Angel, isn't it? You want to suck my big cock like a good girl?" He purring in a sultry way and looking at you with heavy, seductive siren eyes.
Seonghwa lazily strokes the swollen head of his cock all over your mouth, smearing his pre-cum until it's covered your lips in a thick, glazed layer. The little slit is dripping with excitement, and you stick your tongue out slightly to taste the bittersweet flavour.
"Yes, please, Hwa. Give it to me. I want you to fuck my mouth until I choke. I want to drink every last drop of your sperm."
Seonghwa's fuckable, plump lips curl into a dirty, approving smile before he slaps the warm, velvety length of his cock against your cheeks, letting you feel how hard and heavy it is for you.
"How can I say no when you ask me so sweetly, angel baby? Open your mouth wider, doll; I'm going to fuck you now."
#ateez smut#kpop smut#atz smut#ateez hard hours#ateez unholy hours#smut#seonghwa x reader#seonghwa smut#park seonghwa smut#ateez scenarios#ateez x reader
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Ride him raw //
🔞NSFW CONTENT MDNI🔞 🐦⬛word count: 864 🐦⬛synopsis: in which you ride him raw. 🐦⬛contains: fem!reader x sylus, established relationship, down bad pussy drunk sylus, just pure smut tbh, the usual. 🐦⬛please consider following me for more similar content! 🐦⬛part of my "Lights out // LADS drabbles" series on ao3.
“Fuck… kitten,” Sylus growled, his voice thick with lust as he pistoned in and out of you raw, his head thrown back against the sofa.
A sheen of sweat coated his chest and neck, and your tiny hands gripped the fabric of his shirt over his broad shoulders, desperately trying to anchor yourself.
Your pretty cunt had him in a vice grip, his cock slick all the way to the base with a creamy mix of his precum—and your juices, glistening in the dim light. His large hands dug into your plump ass, holding you in place, your skirt bunched up to your hips. Your nails raked across his bicep, leaving faint trails as you moaned, eyes rolling back.
“Sweetie… I’m not gonna last long—” he panted, his voice ragged as his large hands spread your cheeks, trying to bury himself even deeper. His brow furrowed, and a shiver ran down his spine as you rolled your hips into him. His blunt nails pressed into your skin, leaving faint crescent moons as his breath hitched.
Something sparked inside you when he said that, like a switch flipping in your brain. Your hand slid up to his neck, wrapping around it gently.
“Say that again,” you breathed, your eyes locking onto his crimson ones.
He groaned, the sound low and guttural, and the desperate hunger in his gaze made you roll your hips harder, overtaking the pace he had set.
“Kitten, you’re being unfair,” he rasped, giving you a sharp look, his silver hair falling into his face in messy strands.
A smirk curled your lips as you leaned in, your chest pressing against his so he felt the softness of your breasts against his chiseled muscles.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you teased, leaving a featherlight kiss on his brow before bouncing on him in earnest.
His response was immediate—a low, velvety moan muffled against your neck, his hands squeezing your ass hard enough to bruise.
As his cock dragged against your walls, hitting just the right spot, your grip on his neck tightened. You moaned as your clit brushed against his pelvis—and his tongue snaked out to lick a long, wet stripe up your neck. Your fingers wove into his snowy hair, tugging lightly, and he groaned again, the sound vibrating against your skin.
“Kitten… god, you need to get off, or else I’ll—” His words faltered, his chest heaving.
The implication was clear, but the thought of him not pulling out sent a feral thrill through you. Instead of slowing down, you shook your head softly, a flash of dominance flickering in your eyes.
“I’ll get off, don’t worry,” you whispered, your breath hot against his lips—before pulling him into a sloppy, desperate kiss. Your tongues tangled, saliva thick and messy as he kissed you with an almost feverish intensity, so needy.
He should’ve pulled you off—his grip on your hips could’ve easily done it—but he didn’t. His hands stayed firmly on your ass, letting you ride him while he kissed you like a man losing himself.
The obscene squelching sounds filled the living room, echoing off the walls. Sylus’s crimson eyes were half-lidded, watching you through the haze of pleasure.
You were so pretty like this—flushed and glistening, riding him with a fervor that made his cock throb inside you.
“I can’t… fuck, kitten, you’re gonna kill me,” he groaned, his head falling back as his hips stuttered, thrusting up into you desperately. His hands moved, dragging you closer, locking you in place as he cursed under his breath.
“I can’t hold it… I need to—”
You gasped as his cock pulsed inside you, warmth flooding you as he came hard, his load painting your walls thickly. His breaths were ragged, and he didn’t stop—his hips twitched, grinding against you as if to push his cum even deeper. The sight of him, silver hair sticking to his damp forehead, chest heaving, made your heart flutter.
“God, look at you,” he murmured, his voice soft but shaky—as he finally stilled. His large hands roamed your body gently now, tracing the curve of your hips, your thighs, and your waist. “So perfect. You’re everything, kitten. Everything I never thought I’d have, god, love you.” He almost babbled, his expression soft.
Heat blossomed in your chest, his words making you dizzy in a different way. You leaned into him, your lips brushing his as you whispered back, “I love you too.”
As you moved back, a mischievous smirk crossed your lips. “However, I didn’t say I was finished with you.”
He raised a brow at you, then smirked back. “Oh, is that so?”
Sylus’s hands smoothed over your thighs, lifting you just slightly. His crimson eyes flicked downward, and he groaned at the sight of his cum leaking out of you, glistening in the dim light.
“So pretty, even like this,” he muttered praise, a dazed grin spreading across his face as you whimpered at the movement.
“Mhm, I think I deserve another round of riding a wanted criminal,” you said with a smirk, your hips back in motion just a second later.
#lads smut#lads x reader#lads sylus#lads#lads x you#lads x y/n#lnds#lnds sylus#lnds x reader#lnds smut#lnds x you#lnds x mc#l&ds#l&ds sylus#l&ds x reader#l&ds x you#l&ds smut#love and deepspace#love and deepspace x reader#love and deepspace x you#love and deepspace smut#love and deepspace sylus#sylus x reader#sylus qin#sylus x mc#sylus x you#sylus smut#sylus qin x you#dijayeah writes#dijayeah drabbles
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oh don’t even get me fucking STARTED on Scraptrap..
like. this is him, right? with his intestines and bones showing, one of his arms as a spike (I’ll get to that later), and his rabbit ears practically gone. makes at least a little bit of sense timeline wise, considering this is after he had been spring locked over a decade ago and has already been in one fire. except in security breach
he. looks like this???
how did his arm regenerate? why aren’t his bony claws on every finger on his left hand? how did the bottom half of his left ear come back?
WHY DOES HIS BODY STRUCTURE LOOK COMPLETELY DIFFERENT AS BURNTRAP VS SCRAPTRAP????
like. dude. it’s as if the designers for Burntrap only looked at Springtrap when making him, not even a glance towards Scraptrap with his stupid skull that makes it look like he’s balding. which, by the way, WHERE THE HELL DOES THE BALD SPOT GO BETWEEN PIZZA SIM AND SB??? it is literally GONE in Burntraps design, and while I don’t particularly miss it, AT LEAST BE CONSISTENT WITH IT UNLIKE EVERYTHING ELSE?????
also his eyes are purple now instead of the grey with Springtrap and Scraptrap, as if it would be impossible to tell this is the Purple Guy™️. and I understand MAYBE they wanted him to have purple eyes like Glitchtrap, but.. why…?
and just to be fair, let’s take a quick look at Springtrap’s design!
(yeah I know that his eyes look green in the photo. please ignore that)
and um. looking at them all together, it’s pretty easy to see all the inconsistencies that make me more and more annoyed as time goes on. it makes me want to scream and tear my hair out and shake Scott Cawthon by the shoulders and yell at him for thinking the blatant disregard of making sure his design stays consistent in AT LEAST where the placement of the holes are would go unnoticed.
but back on the topic of Sun’s eye color!
I mean.. maybe his eyes could be white in his physical model because he’s been around so long the color of his eyes has faded? but even then, it’s still strange for them to depict him with blue, yellow, and orange eyes all at once 😭 like just pick one, it can’t be that hard???
I’ve always been annoyed at the inconsistency’s in reoccurring characters designs in FNAF, and considering Sun has been in a mere TWO games so far, it is equal parts annoying and weird for his eye color to have been inconsistent in official fanart and his model on day 1. (not to mention Moon gets the same treatment, getting flip-flopped between having red eyes or blue eyes. I’m starting to wonder if this was on purpose to mess with us or if they are genuinely incapable of letting the daycare attendant have an eye color that doesn’t constantly change with every new official piece of fanart)
WTF IS SUNS EYE COLOR
all of the pictures used r official btw
this is one of the most inconsistent designs i have ever seen, chirst- and we're talking about the same series in which Scraptrap exists.
#reblog#d3athlystars rambles#fnaf#fnaf security breach#fnaf 6 pizza simulator#fnaf 3#springtrap#scraptrap#burntrap#sundrop#moondrop#aaaaaAAAAAAAAAAA-#this drives me up the wall insane omg#cw cursing#cw profanity#cw me getting upset about both purple guys inconsistent design and suns constantly changing eye color
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Sugar, spice, and everything nice (Part 4)
Agatha takes you to her house after your date in the park
Word count: 4.6k
Warnings: oral sex, sex toys, fingering, mommy kink
Taglist: @lostbutlovely33 @diorrxckstar @whoreforolderfictionalwomen @katekathry @onemansdreamisanothermansdeath @tayasmellsapples @natashashill @mybraininblood @mysticalmoonlight7 @cactuslover2600 @loveem0mo @readysteddiero-nance @lonelyhalfwitch @lesbiantortilla @crescendoofstars @sol-in-wonderland @ahsfan05 @gbab09 @sasheemo @agathaharness @live-laugh-love-lupone @chiar4anna @fuckedupforkhahn @lowlyjelly
Thankfully, Agatha doesn’t tease you at all with the toy the whole way back to her house. You aren’t sure you could take anymore of it.
You can still feel phantom vibrations inside you and your hips involuntarily jerk every so often. She chuckles, watching you out of the corner of her eye, but you can see her knuckles turn white around the steering wheel when you let out a small gasp.
Agatha tries to drive safely, but you see her teeth grit when she presses down on the gas pedal to make a yellow light. She’s as desperate as you are, and the thought only makes you clench harder around the toy still inside you.
Thankfully it’s only a fifteen minute drive and she’s pulling into the driveway of a giant house. You didn’t even know there were houses this big in this part of New Jersey but it looks like a mansion.
She presses a button in her car and the gate out in front slowly opens. Your jaw drops as you take in the details of the massive two-story house with a three car garage, floor-to-ceiling glass windows, and you think you can see a pool in the backyard?
And there’s a water fountain out front in the middle of the roundabout driveway.
Your jaw drops open and you look at her with wide eyes. “You live here?” You whisper and Agatha nods with a smirk.
It’s a far cry from your 250 square foot dorm room and you’re embarrassed remembering how you practically begged her to come up with you to it the other night.
There’s a seedling of doubt that plants itself in your mind. Agatha is clearly a very successful lawyer, with a huge home and more money than you could ever dream of. You’re nothing but a college student who works at a bakery with maybe three-hundred dollars to your name, most of which came from Agatha’s tips. You shouldn’t be here with her. You shouldn’t be with her at all.
Agatha will always be able to take you out, treat you to the nicest things – the brand new laptop, the sex toys. She gave you her credit card and told you to buy whatever you wanted.
You had to settle for a picnic in the park.
“Hey,” Agatha says gently, interlocking her fingers with yours and rubbing her thumb on your skin soothingly. “Everything okay?”
You must be wearing your shame on your face and you shake your head and try to offer a reassuring smile. “Yeah, I’m good. Just kind of crazy that you live here—” you wave your hands, motioning to her house, “and I’m just a college kid.”
“Oh, honey.” She reaches over and tilts your chin to face her, making you look right into her eyes. Your cheek twitches with the effort of hiding how insecure you feel. “You’re so much more than that.” She leans across the console to press a soft kiss to your lips.
It makes you feel a little better. “Really?”
She nods earnestly. “You’re so pretty and smart and hard-working. That little crease above your eyes you get when you’re thinking hard about something is so cute. The way your mouth opens in shock when I tip you. And—” she says, a mischievous glint in her eye and you feel your stomach warm, “you’re really fucking hot when you moan for me.”
Heat sears through you and you gasp, clasping her cheeks and pulling her to you, your mouth meeting hers in the middle.
Agatha wastes no time before sliding her tongue into your open mouth, flicking against yours and she sucks on your bottom lip, a filthy moan escaping you. Her mouth is hot on yours like she’s hungry, like she’s trying to devour you — and you let her.
She swallows up the sounds from your throat and you tangle your fingers into her hair to try and get her closer, you need to feel more, you need her so much you can hardly breathe.
Your skin feels like it’s burning, more wetness pooling in your already soaked underwear from earlier, you clench around the toy and wish she would turn it on to give you some much-needed relief.
Her tongue licks against yours and she groans and pulls back, resting her forehead against yours while she pants.
She huffs out a laugh as your breaths mix together. “Should we bring this inside?”
And all your worries about not being good enough melt away. “Yes, please,” you say, not even bothering to hide how desperate you are for her.
Agatha’s eyes dart down to your lips and she kisses you one last time like she can’t help herself before opening her door and getting out. You follow in suit, grabbing your overnight bag with all the sex toys, and she leads you up to the front door, fumbling with the keys with shaky hands before finally unlocking it.
You barely have time to admire the gray laminate flooring or the extravagant chandelier that hangs in the entryway or the extensive bar tucked into a corner of the living room as she wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you into her, her lips finding yours once again.
This time, when her tongue traces against your lips, her hands slip under your shirt and the heat from her splayed fingers makes you gasp. You drop the bag and your hands wrap around her shoulders and you don’t think it would be possible to be closer to her than you are right now.
She walks you backwards until you hit the wall, her mouth never leaving yours, and her thigh slots between your legs, and you grind against her, the same way you did on the park bench.
Tension grows in your stomach, not taking long at all with how worked up you still are, and Agatha’s hands roam higher under your shirt, brushing against the edge of the lacy bra you put on for her. She cups your breasts and you gasp into her mouth, your hips stuttering against her leg.
And when Agatha circles her thumbs against your nipples, you keen, your back arching off the wall with a sigh and she smirks against you.
“Agatha,” you breathe. “Mommy.”
She groans like the name is too much, too good, and you throb at knowing you have that effect on her, and then she’s grabbing your hand and yanking you into the living room. Your lips are swollen and your cheeks are flushed and the mess between your legs keeps getting worse and you need her more than you thought possible.
“Lay on the couch,” she rasps and it’s dizzying to hear her like that, like she needs you just as much as you need her.
You obey and in an instant, she’s straddling your hips and tearing off her blazer and the blouse underneath, throwing them somewhere in the room and you inhale sharply at her smooth pale skin, her black bra, her stomach.
“God, you’re beautiful,” you say before you can think about it and she uncharacteristically blushes before bending over you, her hair tickling your face, and kisses you softly.
It turns every bit as filthy as the other ones and soon enough, she’s tugging at the hem of your shirt to help you take it off while your hands trace the outlines of her ribs.
Her lips nip at your chest, soothing the sting with her tongue, and your fingers bury into her hair to keep her there when she sucks on your nipples over your bra. Your hips rut up, the toy inside you providing a little bit of stimulation but nowhere near enough, and the heat inside you only gets worse when Agatha gets frustrated with your bra and rips the middle of it open, giving her access to your breasts.
Before you can make a comment about your torn lingerie, her tongue swirls around your nipples and your eyes roll back, all the thoughts in your head vanishing. You make a strangled noise and your hands fiddle with the clasp of Agatha’s bra before finally unhooking it.
She pulls away to shrug it off and then lowers herself against you to kiss you, her nipples sliding against yours and you gasp at the feeling.
Agatha huffs out a laugh, a hand sneaking between your bodies to dip into the waistband of your skirt and you moan, hips jumping—
A phone rings. You think it might be yours coming from your bag by the door, but through the haze in your mind, you remember that your phone is set to silence.
Which means — Agatha swears and looks between you and her blazer that’s laying on the floor, where the sound is coming from, as if she’s trying to decide what to do.
The ringing stops eventually and Agatha smirks before dragging her lips against your collarbone, her hand pushing up your skirt and sliding a hand between your legs. You jump when she cups you over your underwear and she chuckles teasingly before stroking two fingers up and down, pressing the outer piece of the toy against your clit and you can feel how wet you are, and the sudden pressure on your clit makes you moan.
Her ringtone plays again and this time Agatha growls before quickly getting off you and retrieving her phone from her blazer.
“What?” She barks into it and you see the clock on the wall say it’s a little past 9 pm. Who would be calling at this hour? You watch as her body position changes and she slumps defeatedly into herself, eyes looking anywhere but you. “Are you serious?”
Agatha turns around and massages her forehead while you try not to get too distracted by how good her ass looks in her tight-fitted pants. You are positively aching right now and you wonder if she would be mad if you started touching yourself.
You feel like she would so you sit up and squirm on the couch instead.
“Fine. Give me fifteen minutes,” she says and she sounds pissed. She hangs up the phone and curses, grabbing her shirt and blazer off the floor.
You chew on your lip tentatively. “Everything okay?”
Agatha pulls her shirt over her head, fluffing out her hair from the neckline. “This stupid case I’m working on has hit a snare. That was my partner at the firm, he needs me on a video call in fifteen minutes with some of the other attorneys to discuss how we’re going to move forward.” Agatha sighs and walks over to the couch, cupping your cheeks and kissing your lips, making your clit pulse while you sit there, suddenly cold. “I’m so sorry, honey.”
“No, it’s your job, I completely understand,” you say, still a little letdown but trying to hide it for her. “I’ll still be here after.”
She gives you a sweet smile and it’s hard to be annoyed when she looks at you like that. Agatha softly brushes your hair, tucking a lock behind your ear, and kisses your forehead. “That’s my good girl.”
It’s hard to miss the shudder that runs through you when she says that and she smirks.
“You’re welcome to explore or come hang out in the study with me. I have some swimsuits in my closet if you want to go for a late night swim,” she offers, eyes twinkling at the thought of you in a swimsuit and you laugh.
“I’m sure I’ll figure something out,” you say and she squeezes your shoulder before going into her office, leaving the door open as an invitation.
You decide to look around a bit. First, after you shrug off the ruins of your bra and put your shirt back on, you go into the kitchen where you’re met with white marble countertops, a huge stainless steel fridge with post-it notes stuck to it with reminders like Check on Vidal case and Talk to Wanda about Wu finances and Bananas, eggs, chicken, bourbon. You read each one and then with a jolt, see one that makes your cheeks heat up. Date with y/n Tuesday — clean the house.
On the island, the faucet in the deep sink is gold plated and the wine rack tucked into the side is filled with expensive bottles. Not a speck of dust anywhere and you’re just in awe of how nice everything is.
That hint of insecurity starts to creep back in and you decide to go back to the study and be with Agatha. Even just sitting near her will make you feel better.
She’s sitting at a big mahogany desk and looks up over her computer to smile and you can see the AirPods in her ears like she was hoping you’d come in. In front of the desk is a glass coffee table with two leather couches on each side of it, all perpendicular to her desk.
You trace the spines of the books on the shelves lining the walls, some lawyer books, some of the classics, and even a few fiction books that you’ve read.
There’s still the ache inside you, although it’s dulled to a steady, muted heat and you decide to settle on one the couches and watch her.
She starts talking, saying a lot of fancy lawyer words that you don’t quite know the meaning of, but you’re content to rest your chin in your hand and stare. It’s absolutely enchanting to watch her in her element like this, and it’s hot how effortlessly she takes power and says things so matter-of-factly.
And then she starts to flip her pen around her fingers on her left hand and it makes your mouth water. You can’t stop looking at her now, watching her long fingers easily and absentmindedly move the pen while she listens, brows furrowed together.
All of a sudden, the heat is roaring back to life inside you with a vengeance and you shift on the chair, gasping when the toy presses further into you.
You shouldn’t, you know you shouldn’t, it could be really distracting for her and she needs to focus — and yet, you can’t stop yourself from spreading your legs in her direction and pushing up your skirt to show her your soaked underwear.
The pen between her fingers clatters onto the desk and she rushes to pick it back up. Feeling emboldened, you slide two fingers into your mouth and hollow your cheeks while you suck, giving her the best pair of doe eyes you can, and Agatha sputters out a cough, a slight pink tinting her cheeks.
You skim your wet fingers down your chin and neck, and then over your shirt before rubbing up and down your panties. Agatha’s jaw clenches as she tries to focus on the meeting but her eyes keep straying back to you.
When you finally move your underwear to the side, revealing your swollen pussy with the toy still inside you to her for the first time, she swallows roughly and puts a hand under her nose to try and look collected.
You’re about to take the toy out of you, but she gives an almost imperceptible shake of her head, telling you to keep it in, so you settle for pressing the piece against your clit and grinding your hips up to amplify the pressure, a small gasp coming out of you.
Agatha tousles her hair and reaches down into the pocket of her blazer to pull out her phone and lay it face up on her desk. She taps and the next thing you know, the toy turns on.
Your hand flies to your mouth to smother the moan that tears itself out from deep in your chest and you can’t stop your back from arching off the couch. Your head lolls to the side, still never looking away from her with glazed-over eyes, and the ghost of a smug smile is on her face.
She lets you build up, waits until your hips are uncontrollably rocking up into the vibrations, and turns it off. The look you give her must be absolutely pitiful, but you don’t care and she turns it back on.
This time, the intensity is lower than it was before and you push up your shirt to pinch your nipples to get a little more pleasure. Agatha’s teeth sink into her lower lip as she watches you with dark eyes, fingers tightening around her pen, and you know she’s not paying attention to her meeting at all.
Little sounds start to fall out of your mouth and you clench around the toy, your movements becoming more jerky and manic as the tension inside your stomach grows. You know you won’t last much longer, she can see it too, and you wonder if she’ll let you have it.
Agatha flips the page she was taking notes on and scribbles something down in big letters. Without moving her body, she turns the notebook around so you can read it.
Don’t cum.
You whine softly, trying to plead with her, but she shakes her head again. And then she turns up the vibrations and your fingers grip onto the leather so hard there might be marks.
She plays with you, bringing you closer to the edge and then shutting it off and then starting with a low buzz before repeating and it’s torture. You’re a sweaty, shaking mess on the couch all because of her, and you can see how much she’s enjoying it.
“Okay, great, sounds good,” she says, and your head perks up. “Of course, I’ll see you in the office tomorrow. Have a good night.”
She slams her laptop shut, yanks out her AirPods and drops them on the desk, and you don’t even have time to think before she’s walking over to you and situating herself between your legs. She shoves her hands under your ass and hauls you forward so you’re laying on your back under her, resuming the positions from earlier.
Agatha rolls up the sleeves of her blazer, that sight alone making you clench around the still-vibrating toy inside you, and she taps a button the phone she brought over.
It turns off and she tosses her phone onto the coffee table before taking a hold of the toy and sliding it out of your wet pussy. You whimper at the sudden emptiness and Agatha laughs before her fingers rub at your clit.
“Please, Agatha, mommy,” you cry. “I need you.”
But she doesn’t give you any more than that, just traces her fingers through your folds, dips in at your entrance, and just comes back up to circle your clit.
She shushes you. “Honey, I don’t want to rush. I want to take my time and explore you and figure out what you like and don’t like.”
It’s so chivalrous, and any other time you would let her, but she’s had you on the edge for too damn long and you can’t take it anymore. “Agatha, I like you, you can do that later, just please fuck me!”
She chuckles before obliging, pushing two fingers into you and curling them roughly and you moan loudly. Agatha smirks above you and leans down to suck at your nipples and tug on them with her teeth while she starts to fuck you, your hips rolling to meet every thrust.
It doesn’t take long before you’re a whimpering puddle beneath her, you’re sure your wetness has dripped onto the couch beneath you, but you can feel the coils of pleasure tightening in your stomach and you know it won’t take you very long at all from all the edging you’ve been through.
“Agatha,” you moan again and she pauses and easily fits a third finger into you and the stretch is delicious.
She switches to your other breath, scraping her teeth against the curvature of it and then swirls her tongue around your nipple and when she swipes at your clit with her thumb while her three fingers drag against your fluttering walls and with one last perfect curl of them, you cum and it’s the best orgasm you’ve ever had in your life, relief finally flooding through your veins, the dam finally breaking after being built up for hours.
But Agatha doesn’t stop there, she barely gives you any time to recover before she crawls down your body, takes out her fingers, and licks up your slit and it makes you keen.
“Fuck,” you groan weakly, hands flying to her hair and tug gently and she moans against you, the vibrations going straight to your sensitive clit.
Her tongue dips inside you, brushing against your walls, and you make a sound you’ve never heard before. “God, honey, you taste so good,” she says, her words muffled by your pussy and when she picks her head up to readjust, you can see that the entire bottom half of her face is glistening.
Agatha swirls her hot tongue against your clit and then thrusts inside you, making you see stars. You’re still reeling from your last orgasm and you can feel your second one start to creep up on you as she continues her administration, the rhythm of your hips faltering against the movements of her tongue.
But she keeps having to stop because your underwear that’s pushed to the side continuously gets in the way and rubs against her cheek so she lets out a frustrated grunt and tears the fabric so she can peel it off you without having to move your body.
“Come on,” you joke in reference to the second piece of lingerie that she’s ripped today.
“I’ll buy you some more tomorrow, sweetheart,” she promises with a wink and then her mouth is back on you, finally unburdened by your underwear.
Your head falls back again, eyes closing, but she nips at your inner thigh. “Look at me,” she orders and you nod shakily.
Agatha holds eye contact while she tongues at your clit and you whimper, needing just a little more. But she sees this, knows exactly what you need, and slides two fingers into your dripping pussy again and your walls instantly bear down around them.
“Yes, fuck,” you groan, feeling better than you ever thought possible with her mouth on you and her fingers in you. You’re so close again, heat vibrates under your skin, and the muscles in your stomach tense.
And then Agatha sucks on your clit with a particularly hard thrust inside you and it sends you flying over the edge, your vision going dark for a few seconds while pleasure racks every crevice of your body.
She gently fucks you through it and then pulls her fingers out of you, making you wince at the emptiness. Agatha laps at your wetness, thoroughly cleaning you up, while you squirm because of how sensitive you are.
“You okay?” She asks when she finally pulls back with a laugh. You are sure that you look absolutely ruined sprawled out on the couch like this.
You nod weakly. “Yeah, except I don’t think I can move right now.”
She smirks and bends over to kiss you, letting you taste yourself off her lips. Agatha moans when you slip your tongue into her mouth this time, and you realize you can feel the heat radiating off her so you begin tugging at her blazer to get it off.
Once her blazer and shirt are off, you pull at the belt on her pants and she huffs before standing up to take them off. She’s wearing matching black underwear and you grab her by the hand to pull her back onto you so she’s straddling your waist again.
“Mommy,” you plead, not sure what you’re asking for. You just want to make her feel as good as she made you.
But there’s a glint in her eye. “Will you let mommy sit on your face?” She asks and your breath catches in your throat before moving your head up and down furiously. “God, you’re hot,” she mutters before she shimmies up your body and looks down at your face framed between her legs.
She reaches down to pull her underwear to the side and holy fuck she is a mess. Her folds are swollen, sticky and shining, you can see how wet she is, and you can smell her.
“Please, mommy, I want to taste you,” you whine and she closes her eyes momentarily to savor how desperate you sound for her. When she opens them back up, the pure heat inside them makes you shiver.
“Make mommy feel good, honey,” she says, voice trembling, and then lowers her pussy down onto your waiting face. You moan at the taste, at how soaked she is, and you take your time, tracing her with your tongue while she lightly grinds against you.
Small noises fall from her lips as she starts to ride faster when your tongue curls inside her, the feeling of her warm walls around you making you groan into her muffledly.
“God, baby,” Agatha whimpers, pulling on your hair to hold you right where she needs you and then grinds down harder, your mouth absolutely coated in her. You can feel her clit dragging against your tongue and you do your best to flick up at it with each drag of her hips and it makes her moan.
Her legs start to shake around you, with effort and pleasure, and you grab onto her ass to help her keep moving. Agatha’s breaths come out short and shallow and she starts riding you harder, her wetness making a sound as she slides against you.
You try to say something, you’re not even sure what — it just comes out garbled against her and the vibrations pull a high-pitched whine out of her and you sharply inhale, a burst of heat exploding in your pussy. You’ve never seen anything hotter in your life than her falling apart on top of you and you double-down your efforts, closing your lips around her clit and sucking, her head falling back.
There’s a slight flush on her neck, a redness that’s spread down to her chest, and you think she must be a goddess.
“Fuck, hon, I’m so close,” she pants out and you just hold out your tongue while she grinds down hard, over and over, until she cums with a loud gasp.
Her hips shake as she undulates through it and she collapses forward, putting her hands on the arm of the couch so she doesn’t fall on top of you.
It takes a moment to collect herself, your mouth still full of her as she hasn’t moved from on top of you, and she winces when you teasingly slide your tongue inside of her.
When she finally moves her thigh over your head and gets off, you suck in a deep breath and she endearingly rubs her thumb over your lips to clean her wetness off before popping it into your mouth. You suck on it, enjoying the way her eyes get even darker if possible, before she helps you off the couch.
Her gaze darts down to your mouth and then takes in the rest of your disheveled state. “Want to take this upstairs?”
Does she even have to ask? “Of course,” you say and you think you might be becoming addicted to her, every atom in your body yearning to taste her and feel her.
She smirks and drags you by the hand out of her study, pausing at the foot of the stairs before pointing to your bag that is still by the front door with a wink. “Better get those toys, honey. We might need them.”
#agatha harkness x fem!reader#agatha x reader#agatha harkness x reader#agatha x you#agatha harkness x you#agatha harkness smut#agatha smut#agatha all along
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𓆸 ֗ ˳ DRABBLE : [ meschinità ostinata ] 𔓘
theodore is a man of patience, or at least that's what his reserved behavior hints at. obviously, everyone has a limit; if you made your moodiness his problem, then he'll make his annoyance yours. it's only fair, right?
taglist : p in v, hinting towards theodore being a brat tamer. no further descriptions because i don't ruin surprises. obvious +18 content; read at your own risk.
"you're not stopping, are you?" the thick italian accent doesn't cover for the clear tease within his tone, a breathy chuckle leaving theodore's lips, as his hand smacks another slap to your asscheeks: "come on, tesoro; you have a lot to apologize for, don't you?"
one would have thought that, from the way theodore seems oh so patient with his girlfriend, that any annoyance would be sucked up, forgiven and forgotten. although theo is a good boyfriend... he's also a slytherin, and slytherins rarely forget resentments without a good bribery, you know? like a serpent, theo cunningly waits for the right time to strike.
in a more rational part of your mind — since everything else seems to become too blurry and white out.from the pleasure that keeps poking on that sweet spot, again, and again and again —, you ponder about regret.
should you have been impatient this afternoon? no, it wasn't fair to push your pettiness and moody behavior onto theodore, especially not when the italian was just trying to smoke his afternoon cigarette, hopefully to expel some accumulated stress, from this week's assignments.
do you regret it? not exactly.
how can anyone regret anything, if the outcome is theodore nott under you, blue eyes piercing into your soul with the cockiness of who knows what he's doing — gaze dispersing from your fucked out expression, only to stare in marvel at the way your chest bounces with every. single. movement. of your hips? oh, he's loving this.
theo loves your bratty side.
it's not a secret either. why do you think he likes the sassy ones? the comebacks make him laugh, and theo definitely laughs harder when he gets you so tired and fucked out of your attitude, that not even a huff of annoyance he gets out of you.
and he's working in that direction.
well, it's more accurate to say that he's making you work for that.
his hand lazily settles on your hip, caressing the skin already tainted with darkening fingermarks; so what? it feels so damn good to be inside you, it always has theodore muttering in italian—cursing and praising, depending on his tone, you've learned from pure experience. the other one, as if to taunt your attempts of scolding his unhealthy habit of smoking, holds a cigarette between his index and ring finger.
you know, the ones he used to impatiently prepare you for his cock, still wet with your slick. theo loves to feel you drooling for him, already fidgety and sensitive when he slips inside you — or, in this case, having seen you sink onto his painfully hard erection. the heaven's view, he swears.
taking a drag from his cigarette, theodore ponders whether you deserve an incentive, or to have him being mean with you. weren't you so smart earlier?
his fingers bruise the skin on your hipbone yet again, this time thrusting up for a harsh thrust, contrasting with this slow rhythm you're providing. theo scoffs, "seriously, is this your way to apologize for your bitchy behavior? dai, amore, non deludermi."
as if it's that easy to make your body work faster; it's already uncomfortable to be in this position, especially overwhelmed from his fingers!
not that theo cares about that, anyway.
another harsh slap to your asscheeks; a raise of his left eyebrow, and you know that he's losing his patience: "don't make me do it for you, dolcezza. i'll rip manners out of you."
and as delightful as that sounds, you're not sure if you could take that sort of overstimulation today. not when you're already like this, even less when theodore is savoring the idea of bullying your pretty lips and sensitive core.
so, hands falling for support on his abdomen, you do your best to ignore the aching on your thighs — perhaps you should do this more often or exercise? — you force yourself to lift your hips, only to slam them again until theodore is so deep inside you, that your clit makes a wet mess of his groin. theodore fucking loves that, expelling the smoke from his lips with a breathless chuckle, head tilting back to the headboard.
yeah, mattheo is probably sleeping in the common room tonight.
not appreciating the lack of response, zero empathy towards the effort you're already doing, theodore sneaks his free hand amidst the mess of your hair. his fingers tangle between your locks, until his nails lightly scratch over your scalp and tug you closer to him; a demand from him that feels ridiculously good to you. his free hand moves the cigarette away from his lips, and taking the chance of your gasp from the extra tug on your hair, theodore blows the burning smoke to your lips; inside your mouth. taunting how much you dislike this vice of his.
nicotine swirls between your tongues as they meet; that, however, isn't the reason why you crawl back to him everytime.
theodore nott is a drug of his own.
perhaps he decides to be nicer now, sloppily exchanging slow kisses with you, letting his hips roll upwards to pursue his orgasm.
"non puoi nemmeno essere una vera troia," theo is so close to you, that the movement of his lips, pronouncing each foreign word, brush against yours, creating a tingling sensation that only adds to the notion of being cursed and insulted—at least, that's what your intuition tells you.
his hand blindly abandons his cigarette on the ashtray, keenly aware that you can feel—and taste—that acid smell of tobacco and cigarettes, less considerate than he usually is about your irking over it. his fingers grip your jaw, his thumb squeezing your cheek as his other fingers do the same, not even letting you moan from each sharp thrust that kisses your cervix.
"cazzo, it makes me want to laugh at you. you talk, talk, talk my ear off," even breathless, theo seems to have too much to say; it should be embarrassing, really, if his disdain didn't make your inner walls clench tighter around his thickness. "and can't even own your bitching afterwards. didn't even properly apologize; maybe you don't deserve this, huh?"
it takes a moment for you to understand the implication there, too distracted by the toe curling sensation of being repeatedly filled up. it's when theodore stops, resting on the mattress once more and giving up on the fluid movement of his hips, previously bouncing you on his groin, that your eyes widen with disbelief. seriously?
at first, you think about calling him out for his pettiness.
but it's the smug look and smirk that makes you want to sob instead, dignity crumbling to ashes, reborn as despair to finally cum. please, please.
his hand lowers to your neck, fingers curling around your throat, even though there's not much of a threat there. it's a loose grip; not even properly holding it, a simple squeeze that feels rather gentle, more like he's mocking you, in a way.
the worst is that theodore isn't even being mean. no, this is him having fun; if he was being mean, he'd be teasing you about the first semblance of frustrated tears, and you'd have to cry for it.
picking up the pieces of any strength left, the smartest choice is to surrender yourself, hopefully calming down the fire that burns within theodore's temper to slowly sneak into his good graces again. your hips move — unable to exert the tired muscles of your thighs — grinding helplessly against the firm muscles of his groin, the movement enough to rip out a low groan from theodore, appeased that he won't listen any whines from you, for now.
"brava ragazza," comes as a praise; before the compliment gets over your head, his free hand slaps your thigh, "go on. use me like a toy, carina, cum on my cock."
yeah, this would be a long night.
#slytherin boys#theodore nott#headcanons#theo nott#theodore nott x reader#theo nott x reader#smut#theodore nott smut#theo nott smut#lemon#hp fandom
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Hi hello so im back again with a smaaaaaaallllll rant about Colonel Caleb and general's daughter. I just got the ideea and i had, once again, nowhere to rant about it.
Ahham. So....them having their own 'myth' lets say. They were lovers in their past lives(historical maybe the 1800 or the 1900)but couldn't be toghter since she was of lower status then Caleb, him being a Colonel in the army (i love Colonel Caleb so bear with me) and her being a commoner or someting and she dies in his arms and he swears to protect her in their next lives and faith makes sure to have them be of the same 'rank'??? so he could fullfill his promise FUCK MY MIND IS IN RUINS 😭😭😭😭😭😭
I hope i made myself clear if not blame my mind, thank you! Good night! 😭😂��️❤️
MINA I AM DELIGHTED TO SEE YOU AND YOUR LOVELY AU AGAIN. <333 gosh I wanted to answer this immediately last night, but Caleb’s latest trailer had me losing my mind and things spiraled 😭😭😭
Giving you all of my attention, because EXCUSE ME. WHEELS ARE SPINNING.
Can we…can we just indulge on this a little more? 🥹 omg excuse the slightly heavy Moulin Rouge! influences sprinkled in here, but this is the vibe I am getting, especially for their “tragic” ending.
A Colonel and His Lover
Imagine Colonel Caleb is dragged to a brothel by his associates and superiors. He finds the whole thing disdainful, but is pressured by his own superiors to indulge in a little nightly fun and let loose and forget their duties for a bit.
He doesn’t plan to. He had planned on leaving the moment everyone finds their partners.
Until he sees you.
Literally lust love at first sight.
He’s captivated by your beauty, your wits, and he’s falling hard and fast before he realizes what is happening.
One night with you leaves him yearning for more. He has already remembered how you felt under him, the way you quivered and moaned for him.
He remembers the sweet nothings uttered between the two of you, and though a tiny part in his mind is telling him that you are just a whore who is good with her tongue, he wants to believe that there is something genuine blossoming between the two of you.
He starts going back to the whorehouse more often. Nightly, if he could. He still puts on an act that he was being pressured to tag along, but in reality, all he wants is to see you again. No matter what it takes, what the price, he wants you and only you.
In the beginning, he was just another client. One of those military brutes who only saw you as something that can be bought for and used until they were satisfied.
You did intentionally charm him in the beginning. A false smile, a few sweet words to prickle his male ego, but it soon becomes apparent to you that Caleb is not like all of your previous clients. When he sees you, there is genuine feelings in his eyes, he is truly looking at you for you and not just a body to be used.
You try to discourage your own feelings, reminding yourself of the different classes you belong to. This can never happen—could never happen.
A prestigious colonel on his way to greatness and a common whore? What a joke. It seems almost insulting to entertain such an idea that you could ever truly be his. You quiet those feelings, try to imagine him as any of those other bastards who drag you to bed.
Except you can’t.
Caleb won’t let you. He sees you for you. He wants to know you, the real you, who you have hidden away for years.
You no longer wait for him to come to you as a client. You begin to sneak around whenever you both could, having regular rendezvouses where he is no longer a client or you’re a whore, but two lovers meeting to be together.
After one afternoon delight, you lay with him in an inn bed, tangled in sheets and wrapped in his warmth, and he paints you a beautiful picture of the life you both could have together.
He would buy you all of the beautiful dresses for you to wear, show you off with pride, his equal at his side wherever he goes. Men may still lust after you, their wives green with envy, but to Caleb, he couldn’t care, because he knows you are his and his alone.
You would live in a beautiful house, your days filled with idle contentment and no longer have to worry about anything or want for anything. Caleb promises to provide you with everything you could want and more.
When you tell him, though, that he is all that you want, his cheeks tinge pink, but his smile is layered with joy and also…gratitude? He looks at you like you are his whole world, because that’s just how it is: you are his world now. He had never thought he could cherish someone as much as he cherishes you.
A beautiful life awaits you. He asks you to marry him.
For just a moment, you hesitate, and he is confused. He gently questions you, wondering if you have any doubts about his feelings.
“No! Never!” you tell him, and then reluctantly, you reveal that you could still feel that distance in classes between the two of you. You worry about his reputation, and Caleb seems surprised.
He reassures you there is nothing for you to worry about. He can handle whatever happens, and he promises to keep you safe.
You agree to marry him.
Life continues as normal as the two of you plan to run away and elope. He had promised you an extravagant wedding, but you want him now, already wanting to be his wife and he your husband.
This rosy life you are seeing turns grey in an instant, everything grinding to a halt when you start to display symptoms of an unknown illness. You start coughing up blood more often, your body weakened some days to the point you need to be bedridden. Secretly, you hid everything from Caleb, not wanting him to worry.
Caleb starts wising up, realizing something is wrong when you continue to evade his questions or even outrightly avoid meeting him again.
When a physician reveals to you that you only have less than five months to live, you realize that the dream life Caleb promised you would never come true. Not wanting him to bear the pain of seeing you dying, you start to drive a further wedge between the two of you, consciously doing things to make him hate you so he wouldn’t ever have to feel the pain of losing you.
It works.
You fight with him to the point that you’re both yelling and screaming at one another until he loses control of his anger and drives his fist into a wall, scaring you briefly, having never seen this side of him before. He doesn’t want you to see him like this either, so he leaves, leaving you with these bitter harsh words and some bills tossed at you in spite:
“I have paid for my whore. My debt is paid and she is nothing to me.”
When he is out of sight, you fall to the ground sobbing, angry at yourself for doing a good job of driving him away and making him hate your existence. The man you loved is gone, and though it hurts, you still wish he would find someone to replace you, because you still love him with your whole heart and never want him to be alone like this.
Caleb is angry and it shows. The Colonel has always been very disciplined and strict, but everyone has noticed his temper seemed even more short. There is no leniency with him. You mess up, he will make sure you learn from your mistakes. You talk back to him, and it will be your last words in his presence.
He starts to drink more often, wishing to numb his pain, to forget your fights, to forget you. There is no alcohol in the world strong enough to cure him of this heartache. In spite of everything, he still loves you. He replays the memories often, wondering when everything had gone wrong.
One night as he sits at the bar, on his fifth glass of scotch, he pulls out a ring box, opening it to look at the dainty little ring he had secretly chosen for you. It wasn’t a huge diamond, but still perfectly sized, and he knows it would look beautiful on your finger.
He downs his glass, pays his tab, and stumbles out of the bar. He staggers through the streets disoriented, not even thinking clearly of where he is going.
He finds himself at the brothel again, and he scoffs. He goes in, demanding to see you.
The madame there tries to turn him away. She knows who he is, and also knows of his secret relationship with one her girls. She knows what you two had planned, because you had revealed everything to her and begged her to never let him come near you again—for his sake. Always for his sake. Even as you are dying upstairs, each day, you breathing growing weaker, you still think of him.
Caleb doesn’t take “no” for an answer and in his current drunken state, he is more prone to violence than usual, slurring insults about you in spite. It isn’t until one of the other girls screams out that you were dying, that he freezes, sobering up instantly.
“What…did you say?”
His whole world had stopped. The colors drain from his face, his heart slowing as he replays her words in his mind. The dots start to connect as he remembers all of your final fights, realizing your expressions had always seemed off somehow.
His throat is dry, his limbs rigid as he tries to move. Suddenly, he runs off in a mad dash before anyone could stop him. He rushes up the stairs, passing several rooms, pushing anyone in his way to the side until he finds your room, the door bursting open and he freezes again, not recognizing the frail woman laying in bed under multiple covers as a nurse is tending to her.
Caleb doesn’t leave and rushes to your side, dropping to his knees as he reaches for your hand, begging you to look at him. He apologizes profusely, his eyes glistening with tears.
“Why didn’t you tell me?! Why did you lie to me?! Why, why…why…”
His large hands wrapped around yours, holding it close to his face as he sobs.
“Ca..leb…”
He looks up, seeing you smiling at him weakly.
“I’m here,” he assures you, “I’m here…I’m not leaving…Not again…”
Too weak to fight, too relieved to see him, you let him stay and you close your eyes.
He stays by your side for your remaining days, cherishing the little time you had left.
One afternoon as he watches you sleep, he sits on the edge of the bed, his fingers brushing aside your hair, his eyes heavy with sadness as he realizes how frail and pale you are now compared to who you were months earlier. Quietly, he pulls out the ring box, taking the ring out, and slipping it on your ring finger. It looks perfect on you, just like he had known it would.
When you wake that evening and see the ring, you start to protest, saying it’s wasted on you.
He silences you with a kiss, and once again, he reassures you that nothing he does for you is ever wasted effort. You are his only bride, and no one will ever take your place.
Time dwindles, and he watches you waste away each day, his heart heavy with remorse and anger that he is losing you before his very eyes and there is nothing that he can do to stop this. For all of his strength and glory, Caleb has never felt as weak and helpless as he does now.
He tries to fill your days with as much comfort and happiness as he could.
It was a spring afternoon when he lays in bed with you. He leans back against the headboard, your body resting against his, the cover up to your neck for warmth, but nothing felt more comforting than his own body heat against you.
He tells you stories again and as you listen to him, you wonder why his voice sounds more distant even though he is right here next to you.
Caleb watches, realizing, he has lost you, your body growing colder and unresponsive.
He breaks down crying as a warm spring breeze rustles into the room from the opened balcony door. He holds you close to him and just sobs and curses every deity in the world.
He promises in the next life, he will be a better man and give you what you deserve. In the next life, things will go right. The story of you and him will be rewritten, he swears on his life.
#x — 💌#mina-lupu#love and deepspace#love and deepspace caleb#love and deepspace x reader#caleb x reader#lads scenarios#ahhhhhhhh#YOU'RE MAKING ME OBSESSED WITH YOUR COLONEL CALEB AU#:'(((( <333333#i'm so happy you're sharing these with me because i am having so much fun yapping with you about them 🥹🥹🥹
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I've been meaning to reply to this for awhile and it's largely because I feel like functionally, the person above who said formality in English is dying is right. I have seen people claim that, for example, using honorifics when translating Japanese is bad translation and you can demonstrate the same thing in English. And I have never agreed. "Formal Japanese is like speaking to your boss" is something that I've heard a lot, but I don't really feel there's a huge difference in language in (US American) English. All right, so you don't say "fuck" or "shit" or that something "sucks." But how do you tell the difference between that and someone who simply doesn't use curse words? You can't. (And except for the times when I worked for medical doctors, I've always called my bosses by their first name and it would have stood out as unusual if I didn't.)
Like those 5 examples of formality levels above? So A is something you'll only see in written English. It's the language of things like wedding invitations, which have retained formal customs that are no longer used in other areas. If someone is actually speaking like that, I'm at a Ren Faire; this is not everyday language. No one speaks to their boss like this and if you did, it would stand out as very odd - so much so that you might even be spoken to about it because it would be assumed it was a deliberate affectation and possibly even mocking. (But if you're trying to represent the speech of a character who speaks archaic Japanese, it would work for that, but obviously that is not the same as merely formal.)
B is something you might hear, but it is still a little unusually stiff. It sounds like the person is uncomfortable more than they're being formal, like they're asking someone out on a first date. (Though I guess 'formal' is maybe meant to be 'I am terrified to speak to this person'? But I never got the impression that that's quite right.) People would notice if someone were speaking like this and probably flag it as a sign of nervousness, maybe social awkwardness if they did it all the time.
And E is just... do real people speak like this? (Also it's complicated, because if they do, I also feel like this language is not just informal, it's gendered male and coded as young, so maybe it's just a bad example because it's folded so many things into it beyond formality.)
As an aside: this is part of why I think kids are often still expected to use titles when adults aren't. Socially, the US is more hierarchical with children and expects formalities from them that are not expected of adults.
This leaves C and D as the quotidian examples. D is less formal, granted, but would I say it to my boss? Sure. (OK, I actually wouldn't, but that's because I've never called a meal "a bite" in my life. But "wanna grab lunch" seems fine. It doesn't strike me as inappropriate.) So I guess I feel like yes, technically all these levels of formality exist, but most of them are not actually used any longer, so if you're using them for translating contemporary people speaking, results may be very "real people don't talk like this."
Now maybe part of this is that I live in a very informal area of the country. Maybe in other regions they really are using B to speak to their boss. But it definitely isn't a universal thing such that I would feel it was something that could be said of "modern English" in general. (Also all the examples above as well as my perspective are very white, which is of course also a complication with modern spoken American English: there are real racial distinctions. So to some extent it is a hard language to generalize.)
Edit to Add: I also want to note here that this really has changed pretty quickly. People in the 1950s and 60s were much more formal than they are now and even somewhat more formal in the 1980s. You could definitely extrapolate something about politics and some people wanting more hierarchy (and freaking out about the lack of it) from a panic about the loss of formality in spoken language.
I'm so fascinated by languages with different levels of formality built in because it immediately introduces such complex social dynamics. The social distance between people is palpable when it's built right into the language, in a way it's not really palpable in English.
So for example. I speak Spanish, and i was taught to address everyone formally unless specifically invited otherwise. People explained to me that "usted" was formal, for use with strangers, bosses, and other people you respect or are distant from, while "tú" is used most often between family and good friends.
That's pretty straightforward, but it gets interesting when you see people using "tú" as a form of address for flirting with strangers, or for picking a fight or intimidating someone. In other languages I've sometimes heard people switch to formal address with partners, friends or family to show when they are upset. That's just so interesting! You're indicating social and emotional space and hierarchy just in the words you choose to address the other person as "you"!!
Not to mention the "what form of address should I use for you...?" conversation which, idk how other people feel about it, but to me it always felt awkward as heck, like a DTR but with someone you're only just becoming comfortable with. "You can use tú with me" always felt... Weirdly intimate? Like, i am comfortable around you, i consider you a friend. Like what a vulnerable thing to say to a person. (That's probably also just a function of how i was strictly told to use formal address when i was learning. Maybe others don't feel so weird about it?)
And if you aren't going to have a conversation about it and you're just going to switch, how do you know when? If you switch too soon it might feel overly familiar and pushy but if you don't switch soon enough you might seem cold??? It's so interesting.
Anyway. As an English-speaking American (even if i can speak a bit of Spanish), i feel like i just don't have a sense for social distance and hierarchy, really, simply because there isn't really language for it in my mother tongue. The fact that others can be keenly aware of that all the time just because they have words to describe it blows my mind!
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De-Loveliest
Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader
Word Count: 3,519
Warnings: Blow Jobs, Praise Kink, Reader has a Penis, Smut, Stepcest, Stepsister Wanda Maximoff, Slight Degradation | 18+ Minors DNI
Summary: When it's just the two of you alone, you don't ever dare let go of your stepsister the way Wanda similarly clings to you.
When it comes to your favorite day of the week, you’d never hesitate to say it was Saturday.
It was the one time when you could let all your inhibitions run rampant. No one dared ruin your fun with your mother going away with your stepfather, leaving you all alone but with a rather quiet, perky redhead who stuck to herself. Your college classes seeped all the excitement out of adulthood, but when it was just you and Wanda, you could finally garner it all back.
Most days the woman, only younger than you by a handful of months, sat locked up in her room writing out assignments. She was at the stop of all her classes. A rather brainiac, she had no time to socialize nor offers to do so. Wanda Maximoff preferred the company of a book during her free time rather than a person, at least until you showed her the joys of spending special time with you under the guise of bonding.
“I…are you sure? W-what if they come back? They could hear us, Y/N.”
Rolling your eyes with amusement, you shook your head. “Your dad and my mom left us all alone for the weekend. I don’t think they care to come back here until Monday at the very least,” you explained calmly. “Relax, princess. Your secret is safe with me. You know it always is.”
For months it had been that way. The two of you had known one another for nearly three years, and had been students at the same college for one. Most of the time Wanda kept to herself, but slowly you began protecting her, walking her around campus to her classes and commuting several days a week for the sole sake of ensuring she arrived in one piece. That is when your carnal desire for her began and you took action. Surprisingly the slightly younger woman was nothing but excited to follow along.
Grabbing your painfully hard length, you hummed. “Come on, pretty girl. Open those legs up for me. Stop worrying about mommy and daddy catching us,” you leaned in, completely towering over her body. “No one has to know how much of a little slut you are for me.”
With her back pressed against the pink, starry bed sheets of her bedroom, Wanda nodded. She often invited you over to her room in secrecy, and while she barely had garnered any experience since the day you claimed her virginity, each time you touched her, she responded perfectly. The walls surrounding her were painted in beautiful pastel colors as every trinket spread across the area was rightfully placed. Your stepsister had no flaws in your eyes, and as you gawked down at her nude body, one you had shed from even the last bit of her former outfit, you knew you were right.
Guiding her legs to bend up for you, you settled between them. Your dick throbbed when you swirled its head over her puffy, slick folds that were easily parted. Slapping it on her a few times, you basked on the little moans she let out. Every whimper, every slight movement or sound she made, you absolutely adored.
“Y-you’re so big,” Wanda whined as she looked down to see your penis teasing her cunt, even taking its sweet time to stimulate her bulbous clit with your flushed tip. “I’m always so scared it won’t fit. I mean, it didn’t fit the first time.”
“But now your pussy can take it all. You’ve been trained, princess,” you said as you admired her sex. “Don’t you want my cock? You always look so fucking cute taking it. Hm, and being stuffed with cum…having my pups…”
“I do, I want it so bad,” Wanda cried. “But, uhm, shouldn’t we use a condom. What if something happens?”
“Shhh I like it this way. I love the idea of making you carry my seed,” you mumbled, leaning down far enough so your lips brushed against her ear. “Now look at me, honey. I’m about to go in. I know it always feels a bit icky at first, but everything will be alright. I’m right here.”
You made sure to prepare her first with your fingers before easing yourself into her gaping hole. As always, Wanda was awfully drenched with lustful juices that oozed out of her slutty pussy. Since the first time you fucked her, you ensured to stretch her out to take your lengthy, thick cock without any pain. You still gladly remembered how she barely took half of you on that first night, and now in a matter of seconds you could slide yourself deep into her velvety guts with loud grunts.
Slowly you made sure to stuff her full of your length, only stopping once you felt a soft, spongy part of her insides against your cock head while your balls slapped her skin. “So good,” you groaned. “Fuck, baby. You’re always so ready to take my cock and you do it so well. It’s like your pussy was meant for this.”
“F-feels good!” Wanda yelped, but the louder she got, the more you subdued her sounds of pleasure. “I want it to be hard, please. Uhm…I like it when it hurts.”
There was no verbalization in reply to her words, but instead action that took place. You moved your head down enough to capture her rosy, plump lips in a searing kiss. Wrapping your arms around your stepsister, you held her securely in place while beginning to move your hips. Her moans were drowned out by your mouth as your tongue slipped into hers, but neither wanted it any other way.
Skins slapped together as you rammed yourself into her suddenly abused hole. Many times you’d carry those macabre motions with your toys, but never with Wanda. No, she was fragile. A tender porcelain doll you could never harm. Well…at least not until she practically begged you to do it. Whether she admitted it or not, you knew both she was nothing but a cumrag for you to take, a sweetly innocent one at that who longer to be destroyed.
“I fucking love your pussy,” you exasperated as Wanda’s cunt gripped your cock with might. “God, you’ll look so cute, all nice and round with my pups. Tainted in so much fucking cum, you’ll drown on it like the pretty whore you are. But I bet you’d like that, huh?”
“I would,” Wanda whispered with her lips brushing your own, only to whine when you moved your face down. Her disapproval didn’t stop until her emerald eyes widened with surprise. You took her nipples in your mouth, alternating between the two as you sucked on one while pinching the other with your fingers. Her breasts were swollen and perfectly squishy for you to grope. “Wan’ be filled with cum. P-please. I need you so bad, baby. Make it hurt so bad until I can’t walk tomorrow, and make me yours to have your pups. I need it — I can take it.”
“Yeah you can,” you growled. “You fucking better, slut .”
You didn’t dare stop your brutal thrusts until Wanda came, her fingernails harshly dragging themselves over your back until they surely left angry marks in their wake. She always screamed adorably loud to alert you of the orgasm that shook her to her core and turned her mind to mush. Her pleasure was the only thing that mattered at the end of the day. You stimulated her clit with a finger, drawing out a much intense wave of lust as she fell apart. That was enough to make you let go, and as soon as Wanda’s climax finished, yours began.
Her walls were painted with white as copious spurts of it stuck to her cunt. Your cock twitched inside of her, dumping all of your seed in her depths so-much-so that some dripped onto the bed sheets you’d be sure to clean up. Sighing, you let your head rest against Wanda’s breasts, kissing them with the utmost amount of fondness as your dick remained balls-deep in her.
“‘M tired,” Wanda sleepily commented. She ran her fingers on your back in circular soothing motions. “And hungry.”
“I’ll get you some food and water before you take a little nap,” you responded with a smile, knowing already that her go-to plan after sex was snacking on fruit roll-ups, drinking water, and cuddling against you before going to take a shower together. Staring up at Wanda, you couldn’t believe how lucky you’d gotten with her. “Anything for my pretty princess. Now close your eyes, baby. I’ll be right back, I promise.”
。☆✼★━━━━━━━━━━━━★✼☆。
During the weekdays you were much more secretive about the relationship only the two of you knew about. In front of her father and your mother you were solely stepsiblings who were slightly touchy from time to time, but behind closed doors you stole quick kisses and words of affirmation, at times even running off on dates under the guise of bonding. Even on campus at times you held Wanda’s hand before having to let go with purse dismay and seeing her run into a class of hers while you went the other way. But alas, you counted down the days to be hers again.
“There’s a party on Saturday,” you heard being commented beside you during your Intro to Philosophy class one day. “You should come. I mean, who wouldn’t want the head of the soccer team as a guest?”
You sighed at the comment. Although you had been to your fair share of frat parties during what was your first year of college, given your surprising status as the head of the soccer team as a freshman, you never truly enjoyed them. Most times you drank enough to gain a buzz as a means to soothe your boredom without Wanda by your side. She was never invited, and you knew her being a rather introverted nerd had a lot to do with it.
“I’ll see if I show up,” you shrugged. “I have plans with my stepsis this weekend.”
The woman who sat beside you, one you faintly knew as Sharon, captain of the cheer squad, simply smiled your way. “You can always bring her along. Anything to get you to come, right? If you show up, it’ll be a full house, superstar.”
Wanda never enjoyed loud, crammed spaces – especially not after you took her to a rather crowded concert months before and had to leave after she ran out fueled by her anxiety. But alas, you enjoyed humoring the idea of taking her out of her comfort zone so she could meet new people. From what you knew, she had very few acquaintances, but no one other than you that she could call a friend.
“Yeah, I’ll talk to her about it,” you suddenly beamed. “Thanks, Shar.”
。☆✼★━━━━━━━━━━━━★✼☆。
“Remind me again why we have to go. I mean, it’s not like these parties are any fun. You’ve said it yourself – these people only drink and act like idiots. That doesn’t sound like something either of us would enjoy.”
Holding Wanda’s hand, you brushed your thumb over the back of it. “I want you to meet new people, Wands. Make some friends if you can. Plus, it’s always nice to be able to show off my girlfriend. People don’t know that but, uh, I just know people are jealous to know that my girl is taken and I bet they’re dying to figure out who owns you.”
“Oh,” Wanda blushed at that. She squirmed in the passenger seat of the car, suddenly averting her gaze from you so you wouldn’t see her embarrassingly red features. “Well, that does sound nice, but I doubt I’ll like anyone there. I mean, they’re all so different from me. They’re all so cool and popular. I’m just…me.”
“Shush,” you rolled your eyes. Bringing her hand to your lips, you pressed a kiss against it. “Come on, baby. You’re way better than any of those people in there. Plus, I’ll be by your side every step of the way. I’m not leaving my girl alone.”
That was enough of a pep-talk to get Wanda to leave the car with you in tow. Although she managed to garner some sort of confidence to walk up the steps to the frat house, your stepsister didn’t stop holding your arm for dear life. She nuzzled her face against you, and as you looked down, you couldn’t help but admire her beauty. You picked out a perfect outfit for her: a short black shirt, similarly-colored high Converse shoes, and a loose sweater that had the faint outline of her nipples poking through.
The two of you waltzed around the party without letting go of the other. Numerous fellow students waved your way, even shouting your name as a means to get your attention, all while incredulously eyeing Wanda in your arms. Never did you let her escape, at least not until you shared a space in the corner and you promised to return soon.
“I’m really thirsty,” Wanda whined as she tugged at your arm. “Y/N…”
“I’ll get you something, sweetheart,” you told her, knowing your stepsister ran away from anything related to alcohol, instead opting to get her a bottle of water. “Be right back. Don’t you run off, pretty girl.”
Only a handful of minutes passed until your return. You had been stopped a few times for girls to chat you up, some even trying to get you to, as they said, ‘have fun’ with them for the night. You didn’t pay any mind to anyone as your mind was fully set on Wanda. Grabbing the first water bottle you found inside a cooler in the living room, you ran back to your lover, but as soon as the sight of someone else and Wanda caught your eye, you huffed.
A fellow classmate who you knew as Bucky pressed Wanda against the nearest wall and towered over her. You didn’t care for the water any longer nor the drowned out callings for your name. Instead you made a beeline towards Wanda, and before she could dare react, you dragged her to safety away from Bucky, throwing him a snide look in your wake.
“Did he do anything?” You questioned hastily, knowing the history he had with fellow classmates. “Are you okay?”
“I, uhm, felt really uncomfortable. I kept saying that I was waiting for someone but he tried pushing me,” Wanda shrugged. She didn’t know where you were taking her, but then again, neither did you. All she saw was complete darkness, let alone for a dim light when you shoved her into a bathroom upstairs far away from any prying eyes. “I…I don’t want to be here, Y/N. I know you mean well and all but-”
“Shh it’s okay, baby. We can go,” you promised her. “We’ll do whatever you want.”
While you words were left ambiguous, you purposely left them that way. At that Wanda smiled, her eyes twinkling underneath the faux light as she leaned against your front. Her hands there on your chest, fingers forming small imaginary circles as her body became flush with your own. Whining innocently, she let out a rather exaggerated moan only for your ears for feast upon.
“Anything?”
“Yes, naughty girl,” you raised your eyebrows at her sudden confidence. “What are you thinking about, princess?” Already feeling a growing bulge straining against your pants, you grunted. “Go on, use your words.”
Wanda didn’t dare give you a verbalized reply, but rather dropped to her knees in an instant – she knew they’d bruise up brushing up with the bathroom tiles, but she couldn’t care less. Her face nuzzled itself upon your crotch, teeth very gingerly nipping at your slightly flaccid penis. Her need to have you in her mouth, to taste you, was far too much to ever let go of. The redhead was in disarray with her mind in a haze. So the best thing she knew to do was beg for you to alleviate it.
Hastily tugging open your pants and pushing them down along with your underwear, you allowed your member to gain freedom. Given your length, you couldn’t help it when your dick slapped itself against Wanda’s face accidentally. The woman giggled at that, placing a sweet kiss on your shaft before peppering it with even more affection.
“Open up,” you guided her with your hand, motioning Wanda’s head right to the position you longed for. A hand went to grab a fistful of her hair to pull it back and away from her face, leaving your lover free to please you. “Be a good girl and make it better. Maybe then you’ll get a special treat to swallow…”
She understood the chore bestowed upon her. With a soft hand on the base of your cock, Wanda held you in the perfect place for her to start giving you kitty licks. Your bulbous head, already oozing out bouts of pre-cum, was stimulated time and time again. She alternated between kissing and licking your tip, but once you were hard enough, she began sucking until her cheeks were hollowed out.
Fingers massaged your balls as you helped Wanda bob her head back and forth. Since the first time you taught her how to suck you off she learned to relax her throat so as to not harm herself. You were struck by your growing lust for your stepsister, especially as she never failed to break eye contact and stared up with wide, glassy doe eyes that begged for praise. Patting the top of her head, you nodded.
“That’s it, baby. There’s my good cock sucker. Go on, take it all. I know that pretty mouth of yours can do it,” you huffed out. It was impossible to keep your hips still as they began moving back and forth at a slowed pace. “Fuck, Wanda. I don’t think I’ll last long.”
Soon her hands were replaced by her mouth as teeth very carefully nipped your balls before she sucked and kissed them. Your cock was placed over her face as pre-cum fell on her forehead, but Wanda didn’t mind. She still kept her ministrations up. Lustfully she stimulated your balls until you cried out for release, adoring the feeling of them against her mouth.
Her moans were stifled with her lips around your cock, and yet you could still make sense of them. Wanda’s eyelids were heavy with the move you forced her up and down your member. She gagged over you entirely, but left her head still once she took every single inch of you for a few seconds before moving back to catch her breath. A mixture of pre-cum and saliva drifted down her chin with the more she sucked your dick, so much so that you weren’t able to hold yourself back any longer.
When you came undone, you were sure to force Wanda into place. Whether she liked it or not, she was to swallow every last drop of your cum and be thankful for it. Seconds passed where your dick twitched and throbbed in her mouth, but she didn’t let go. Not even as she nearly gargled with all the sticky substance spewed in her. Although your focus was on her own pleasure, the sole action of making you orgasm made her feel better than ever. She could forever drown in the wondrous manner in which you cried once you released your seed in her – a sight which never failed to ruin her panties as she constantly felt the urge to shove your hands down her legs to soothe her ache.
“You’re such a good fucking girl,” you praised her as the girl released your cock with a loud ‘plop’. She allowed you to see all the cum on her tongue, opening her mouth for your viewing pleasure before she closed and swallowed as you wanted her to. “Fuck, baby girl. You’re such a little whore for my dick, huh? Sucking me off in this bathroom, not even giving a fuck if anyone walks in. But I bet you’d like that. You wanna be watched sucking dick, Wanda?”
She didn’t respond at first, but instead swirled her wet, nasty tongue all over your messy cock head. “I love it,” she mumbled out dumbly. “Take me home, please. I…It’s really sticky down there. I need you to make it better, baby. Please. M-maybe with your mouth and then with…”
Wanda trailed off as she stared at your dick, but you knew exactly what she wanted. Holding your hands out, you helped your stepsister to her feet once more. Hands quickly went to clean her up, to scoop some of the leftover cum off her lips before making her lick it clean and peck your cheek as a thank you. Dragging her away, you could already feel yourself harshly lusting after her once more.
“I’ll destroy you when we get home,” you promised. “And you’re going to fucking love it, pretty girl.”
#cthulhus’ fanfics#wanda maximoff x y/n#wanda maximoff x reader#wanda maximoff x you#wanda maximoff imagine#wanda maximoff smut
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Riki likes it when you’re incharge (๑﹏๑//)
This thought has been lingering in my mind for days; imagine him nervously suggesting the idea of you pegging him, curiosity evident in his voice. And, of course, you agreed. Now, here he is, spread open for you, his wrists tied securely to keep him from interrupting, and you’re pounding into him, watching as he melts under your touch, letting out the sweetest whines and moans.
“F-fuck, feels so good, noonaaa~!” he moaned, his head tilting back, lips parted in pure bliss. He never imagined it would feel this good, but damn, he’s completely lost in the pleasure now.
“Yeah? Look at you. I can’t believe you’re such a slut for my cock too,” you teased, your hand slipping down to stroke his aching length as you thrust into him.
“Ah! Noona, please—too much, too much~!” he cried out, his eyes flickering down to watch your hand pumping him, his body trembling with overstimulation.
“Too much?” you mocked, feigning innocence as you pounded into him harder, your hand stroking him faster. “But I’m barely even touching you, baby.”
He was a mess beneath you—moaning, whining, his hips bucking involuntarily as he took everything you gave him. It didn’t take long before his body tensed, and with a desperate cry, he came hard, his release painting his chest as he gasped for air.
You paused for a moment to admire the sight—his flushed cheeks, sweat-slicked skin, and those dazed, glassy eyes looking up at you with pure adoration. It wouldn’t take much for you to get addicted to seeing him like this, completely at your mercy. And he wouldn’t mind either—he’d let you take him apart as long as it was you.
He’s such a sweet boy, needing to be taken care of, and you’re more than happy to treat him the way he deserves. <3
NOTE — oh this is dangerous territory, i’ve been having these thoughts for the past few days too so here’s a small smth <3 might make a longer elaborated version when i hv the time ><
NOTE 2 — i forgot i made this a longgg time ago and forgot to post it uhhh so here ya go
TAGLIST — @kikidoul @rikiives @contyynishimura @ziiao @lilmarsh-t @bxcndd @laylasbunbunny @d-dilemma
#( tfwbluu )#( entries )#enhypen x reader#enha x reader#enhypen smut#enha smut#niki smut#niki x reader#riki smut#riki x reader#ni ki smut#ni ki x reader#enhypen hard thoughts#enhypen hard hours#enha hard thoughts#enha hard hours#sub enhypen
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