#low back sofa
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portrait-paintings · 3 months ago
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Edmondo and Thérèse Morbilli
Artist: Edgar Degas (French, 1834-1917)
Date: c. 1865
Medium: Oil on canvas
Collection: National Gallery of Art, Washington, DC, United States
Description
Degas' family was relatively affluent, so he did not have to rely entirely on sales of his work for financial support. He was thus free to experiment and choose his own subjects; almost all of his portraits depict relatives or friends. He was also able to delay finishing paintings, reworking them until they met his exacting standards. Many times Degas retrieved works he had already delivered so that he could perfect them. Some he never completed.
This unfinished portrait of Degas' sister and her Neapolitan husband is one such example. (The painting was in his studio at the time of his death.) Notice how Thérèse's dress and shawl are undefined masses of color. There, Degas has scraped and rubbed the paint off the canvas. The dark lines indicate changes he intended but never made. The faces, by contrast, are carefully finished, detailed and expressive. Degas hoped to capture his sitters, he said, in "familiar and typical attitudes."
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cottonmouthe · 1 year ago
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Living Room in Orange County
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Inspiration for a sizable eclectic enclosed living room remodel with blue walls, a tile fireplace, a standard fireplace, and a media wall. The floors are light wood and brown.
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drugstoreprincess · 2 years ago
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Living Room in Chicago Large transitional enclosed medium tone wood floor and brown floor living room photo with gray walls, a standard fireplace, a brick fireplace and no tv
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osachiyo · 3 months ago
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“HERE K!TTY-K!TTY—”
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synopsis— not so innocent moments with your favorite cat boys <3
warnings— n/sfw content, fem!reader, HORNY cat boys, teasing, bondage, oral (m&f), thigh fucking, kinda feral xavier, collars, body worship, overstimulation, sub!rafayel, pet names & nicknames (master, kitty, cutie etc), praise, a lil degradation, very feral sylus & more! also there may be some grammar mistakes which i apologize for </3
note— my first time writing for these boys, hope I did ‘em justice! ik I’m astronomically late don’t clock me 😞
featuring— zayne, xavier, rafayel & sylus x fem!reader (separate)
✰ now playing — kitty kat by megan the stallion ✰
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✦ ZAYNE— feasting on his master
“There, there, kitty,” you smiled at Zayne’s serious expression, waving the cat toy in his face before pulling it away just as he reached for it.
“Feeling playful, are we?” he huffed, his voice a mixture of exasperation and amusement as he lunged to catch the bright, feathered toy again, but your quick reflexes kept it just out of reach. “Oh? Don’t you want to play with your master, cute kitty?” The corners of your mouth curled into a wide smirk as you settled comfortably onto the plush sofa behind you, the soft fabric cradling your form. In your playful distraction, one of your shoes tumbled gracefully to the wooden floor with a soft thud. You glanced up at the towering man, your eyes sparkling with mischief and challenge. “Well? Aren’t you going to help me put it back on?” you teased playfully.
Zayne sighed at your flirtatious little display before kneeling in front of you and picking your shoe up from the carpeted floor. You observed as he gently lifted your foot, his gloved hands gliding down the soft fabric of your stockings while you placed your foot on his thigh. A gasp nearly escaped his pink lips as you ran your foot up and down his clothed thigh, causing him to shiver at your touch.
He let out a soft scoff, a small frown gracing his face as he suddenly seized your foot, halting your playful dance. “Your shoe, master,” Zayne said, his gaze locking onto yours, those long lashes framing his eyes captivatingly with every blink. A thrill ran through you as you leaned in, your cheek resting against your palm, eyes sparkling. You nodded, a playful smile curving your lips, allowing him to slip the shoe back on your foot, your heart pulsing with a mix of anticipation and lust.
You didn't stop him as his hands suddenly traveled further, and further up your smooth legs, up your plump thighs — until they were playing with the hem of your tight little dress, making goosebumps appear on your soft skin. “You knew exactly what you were doing when you wore this, didn't you, master?” Zayne breathed out, licking his lips as he slowly spread your legs apart, lowly purring at the sight of the little patch of wetness staining your cotton panties.
“Hmm, did I?” A playful grin spread across your face as your hands reached out to gently pet and scratch at his soft, velvety ears. The delightful sensation made him release a soft moan from his slightly parted lips, his fingers instinctively tightening their grip on your thighs, anchoring himself closer to you.
“You’re playing a dangerous game, darling,” Zayne murmured with a low, teasing tone, his breath warm against your skin. He lowered his face, allowing his cheek to rest on your lap, feeling the warmth radiate from your body. The intoxicating scent of your arousal filled his senses, and he could almost taste it—rich and sweet, making his mouth water with longing.
“Well?”
Your voice, soft yet teasing, drew his gaze upward to meet your captivating face, where a playful glint danced in your eyes. A mischievous smirk graced your lips as you leaned in slightly, the warmth of your presence electrifying the air between you. “Aren’t you going to dig in, kitty?” you purred, each word laced with an inviting promise.
And dig in he did — panties hurriedly being pushed to the side as he buried his face between your plush thighs, tongue circling your clit while two long fingers poked and prodded at your tight hole — eliciting little moans of pleasure from your plump lips. The pretty noises encouraged Zayne to wrap his lips around your little bundle of now nerves and sucking hard — causing one of your hands to tangle itself in his hair and tugging like your life depended on it.
That caused Zayne to groan loudly into your cunt, earning a sharp gasp from you as the sound reverberated through your body — biting down on your bottom lip to keep yourself somewhat grounded as he stuck his tongue in your cute hole; gooey walls clamping down on the muscle as he savored the tang of your sweet slick.
“F-fuuh— tastes s’good, master,” he moaned into your pussy, slurping on your juices as they poured down his chin like honey, successfully coating the lower half of his handsome face in your sticky arousal.
With your legs resting comfortably on his shoulders, you could feel the warmth of his skin against the backs of your thighs. Your shoes lay discarded on the floor, forgotten as your feet swung gently in the air, toes barely brushing against his back. The way he held you created a lovely curve in your spine, pulling you into a graceful arch as Zayne brought you closer to the edge of the sofa — his tongue sloppily fucking into your cunt.
“O-oh god, Zayne—!” you mewled, clenching your eyes shut as you felt your orgasm approaching fast, your legs closing around him — effectively trapping his head between your thighs as you grinded on his face. “Cum. Oh s-shit — cum on my face, master.” You threw your head back as your pussy gushed on Zayne’s eager tongue, while he licked up every single drop of your sweet slick — couldn't let any go to waste.
“Good girl. Now bend over for me, won't you?”
✦ XAVIER— sleepy catboy turns feral?!
You stepped into the shared bedroom, a weary sigh escaping your lips as you brushed off the stray cat fur clinging to your clothes. Another long day at the cat cafe had left you both exhilarated and drained. Your heart swelled with affection for the playful furballs that filled your day with joy, but you couldn’t ignore the toll that wrangling a dozen spirited kitties took on your energy. As you kicked off your shoes, you felt the familiar blend of exhaustion and satisfaction wash over you.
"You're back." A wave of warmth flooded through you at the sound of your boyfriend Xavier's soothing voice, the tension in your shoulders dissipating as he enveloped you in his taller, comforting frame. His lips met your forehead in a tender kiss, and he nestled his nose into your hair, inhaling the delicate, fruity aroma of your shampoo. "Missed me too much?" you teased, a soft chuckle escaping your lips as you wrapped your arms around the elegant curve of his neck. In response, he tightened his embrace around your waist, eliciting a contented sigh from you, as your exhaustion melted away in the safety of his hold.
"Mm, you couldn't imagine how much," Xavier purred, pulling away from you before pouting — god, you just wanted to press kisses all over his face. He's too pretty for his own good, you thought as you reached out to pat his head and scratch at his little ears until he caught your hand before you could. "You smell like other cats. I don't like it," he scrunched his nose up in disgust, clearly jealous that you had another cat's scent on you.
You laughed softly, amused at how childish he was being. "I was at a cat cafe the whole day, love. I'd be surprised if I didn't smell like cats," you said, shaking your head in disbelief. You made another attempt to wriggle your hand free from Xavier's firm grasp, but he remained steadfast, his grip unyielding. Just as you were about to plead with him to let go so you could take a refreshing shower, he suddenly broke the silence with a surprising comment.
"I see... I suppose it's only right for me to mark you as my own now," he declared, a determined glint in his eyes as he fixed his gaze on you, his seriousness palpable. The weight of his words hung in the air, thick with unspoken promise. You could only blink in stunned silence, your mind racing to process his intent. Confusion etched itself across your features, and you furrowed your brows in disbelief. "M-mark me...?" you stammered, the words barely escaping your lips as you struggled to comprehend what he meant.
Xavier's lips curled up into a devilish smile, mischief swimming in his soft azure eyes. "Mhm, shouldn't a cat properly mark their property?" He questioned as he pulled you closer — your hands settling on his hard chest, his voice husky and dripping with lust, causing your thighs to clench.
You gasped when Xavier's soft lips found themselves latching onto your earlobe, biting and sucking on the sensitive spot before whispering lowly, "don't you agree, master?"
That's how you ended up in the meanest arch— your knees sinking into the silken sheets as your face was pushed into the fluffy pillows, rendering you a drooling mess beneath the man fucking into your sopping cunt like his life depended on it. "Nngh— Xavier!" You wailed out, fingers entangling themselves in the sheets. Your pretty moans and cries of pleasure did nothing but add fuel to the burning fire of his desires— his eyes almost rolling behind closed lids as he slammed his hips against your ass harder— faster, much too drunk on the feeling of your tight walls fluttering around him.
"S-shiit— so fucking pretty, angel—" Xavier's breath came in quick, warm bursts as he panted into your ear, his hard chest flush against your back. Each labored inhale fanned over your ear, sending a shiver down your spine and igniting a rush of heat across your cheeks. "You're s-so nng—! pretty.." he slurred, one of his hands reaching to grab your hair before pulling your head back and forcing your tear-stained eyes to meet his own drunken ones. Your mushy walls tightened upon looking at his hungry gaze, earning a choked moan from him— god, you could practically see hearts floating in his eyes.
Xavier smashed his lips against yours, teeth clashing against each other’s and his tongue ravishing yours. His hips bucked into your ass at a wild pace and the tip of his cock nudged into your g-spot repeatedly, causing little yelps and moans of his name to fall from your candied lips.
"s'messy, baby fuuck—!" You whined, biting your lower lip as you looked down to see what a mess you both were making, your juices and Xavier's previous loads dripping down from your overstuffed hole to the sheets underneath like a waterfall.
"Haah— clenching s'tight 'round me," Xavier whined pathetically before sinking his teeth into the juncture of your shoulder, earning a high pitched squeal from you. You threw your head back as you felt his hand coiling around your tummy to reach down and rub fast circles on your clit— sloppy walls clenching and unclenching around his length, his mouth all but drunkenly slacking open at every clamp of your syrupy pussy.
"'G-god, you're so unngh— fucking b-beautiful," he groaned out, his free reaching upwards to wrap his fingers around your pretty little throat— turning your head towards him to meet his gaze once again.
You feel your swollen folds get even more soaked, if that's even possible, at the utter pussydrunk look on Xavier's usually aloof features. His eyes were almost crazed— feral even, pupils blown out with the desire to breed you and fill you up with his kits overtaking his entire being.
To say you were in big trouble would be an understatement at that point..
✦ RAFAYEL— “stringy” situation?…
The sun flooded through the window, spilling its golden rays throughout the living room. You were lounging on the couch, half-distracted by a book, when you heard the familiar sound of Rafayel's soft purring from the other side of the room. You glanced up just in time to see him—your recently turned cat-boyfriend—pawing at a stray ball of yarn you’d left on the floor earlier.
"Rafayel... no!" you gasped, knowing full well how mischievous he could be when he set his mind on something.
But it was too late. His curiosity got the better of him. Rafayel, with his nimble fingers and feline instincts, quickly batted at the ball, unraveling it further. He gave you a sly glance, as though saying "try me if you dare."
"You better not," you warned further, but it was already too late.
Rafayel was able to deftly maneuver his hand towards the center of the ball of yarn, thanks to a sudden flicking motion of his wrist. He made a strange sound and stopped working when he felt the string rotating around his wrist and then his arm. His cat brain was clearly working hard but didn't seem to realize how much havoc a ball of yarn could cause.
Before you could react, Rafayel tried to pull the ball closer, only to find himself awkwardly yanked forward by the strands now snaking around his legs. With a plop, he tumbled to the floor in an ungraceful heap, his body tangled in a mess of yarn.
You burst out laughing, watching as Rafayel wiggled and squirmed, his tail flicking with irritation. "I didn’t think it would be this bad," he muttered, trying to untangle himself with his free hand, but only managing to knot the string further.
“Need some help?” you asked, trying to stifle your giggles.
“I’m fine,” he replied, a bit too proudly, although he was clearly stuck in a ridiculous position. He tried to stand, but the yarn just seemed to hold him in place, like an invisible web. His attempt only resulted in a slow, comical spin as the yarn tightened around him.
After a few more futile attempts to free himself, Rafayel finally gave up with an exaggerated sigh, slumping onto his back. “Okay, maybe a little help.”
You moved over to him, carefully "undoing" the tangled mess of yarn as he laid back with a contented purr, his eyes half-closed in relaxed defeat. “I really thought I had it under control,” he mumbled, his voice warm with embarrassment but still endearing.
"Wait- wait why are you—!" Rafayel gasped in confusion as you pulled the yarn tighter around him, effectively trapping him in place. "Well, mister kitty cat, I did tell you not to touch the yarn, didn't I?" You questioned, a teasing lilt to your tone.
“So? What’re you planning to do, cutie? Punish me?” Rafayel smirked, raising a brow at you. You only smiled, eyes twinkling with mischief, “Yes. You’re gonna be punished.”
“Bring it on then,” he huffed, cockiness dripping from his tone as he eyed you down, a tent already managing to form in his pants at your intense gaze.
Oh poor thing, he had absolutely no idea what was coming for him.
“O-oh cutie—“ Rafayel’s lewd moans echoed throughout the living room, his abdomen clenching and unclenching with pleasure as you bobbed your head on his pretty cock; the sensitive tip hitting the back of your throat each time. You only hummed, looking up at your boyfriend through your lashes, his pre-cum and your saliva running down your chin as your nails gripped onto his thighs.
Rafayel groaned out your name repeatedly, as if it were his prayer — when you were the one worshiping him. Could anyone blame you, though? When he looked so delectable with his hair sticking to his sweaty forehead, nose scrunched up in pleasure and eyes shut tight, lashes resting on his cheeks and mouth agape as loud moans left him.
Not to mention the small beads of sweat dripping down his abs— his back arching and hips bucking into your mouth while you suck on his pink tip just the way he likes it, the gags and choked sounds leaving your lips only making him harder— if that were even possible.
You hummed sweetly around his cock, staring up at him through your lashes as you blinked slowly— letting his precum drip down your chin in stringy webs. Rafayel could only whine at the sight, a pout settling on his pink lips as you teased him.
“So close b-baby, don’t— ngh shitshitshit- stop—” he threw his head back with a loud groan as you took him in as deep as you could, shooting his cum down your throat as your nose bushed against that little patch of hair on his pelvis.
You pulled back with a ‘pop!’ before opening your mouth, letting his semen drip down your chin, making a mess on the wooden floorboards below. Rafayel panted, eyes darkening at the lewd scene before him.
“I must say, cutie— that was a reaaal nice show you put on for me,” He drawled, ���but—”
Your eyes widened when you heard the loud ‘riiiip’ echoing off the walls — Rafayel’s now free hands reaching down to shove you against the floor,
“Raf—”
He was quick to cut you off, “ah ah ah, darling— you’ve had your little fun, and now I will have mine.”
✦ SYLUS— the collared beast.
You really don’t remember how you ended up in this position— folded up like a lawn chair under sylus’s strong figure, knees touching your ears and thighs flush against your bruised tits. You can hear ringing in your ears, not being able to pick up sylus’s feral groans and growls of your name until a soft slap to your cheek broke you out of your sweet trance. “W-what’s wrong, sweetie? Thought you could handle me?” He purred, fingers tightening around your throat so even if you wanted to answer, you couldn’t. Not that you would be able to anyway, not when Sylus’s fat cock drilled into you so hard, fast and rough— pressing into the rough little patch of your g-spot so deliciously.
You could only babble and cry out broken little moans and sobs— almost making the feline above you feel bad— almost. But it also scratched a deep, dark part of him— something he had been repressing for your sake, but god did it feel amazing— having you split open and dumb on his cock.
The collar around his neck only added more fuel to his burning fire, the pretty leash tangled in your fingers as he demanded you to pull— pull as hard as you could because fuck, nothing could feel better than this, in his mind. Nothing could feel better than him finally letting the beast out— devouring you whole as if you were his prey, not his master. The thought made him rut into your soaked heat even faster— sharp teeth burying themselves in your shoulder as his balls slapped against your ass, the loud “plap plap plap!” noise echoed throughout the room— if anybody was outside they could surely hear you two easily, but that was the least of your worries.
How could you worry about being heard when sharp red eyes glared into your own teary ones— gooey pussy squeezing tight around his shaft as he finally gave you the permission to let go - to cum for him, hard.
“Ohh yes, there she is..” Sylus groaned, a smile gracing his sharp features. “Did you enjoy yourself, sweetheart?” You only hummed in response, seemingly too tired to give him a proper response.
You almost let your eyes fully shut until you heard the soft click of the collar being opened.. but your eyes widened in confusion and dread once he wrapped it around your neck.
“What’s with that look, master? It’s only fair that I have my turn as well, don’t you think?”
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@𝐎𝐒𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐘𝐎 — ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛꜱ ʀᴇꜱᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ. ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ/ꜱʜᴀʀᴇ ᴏʀ ᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴀɴʏᴡʜᴇʀᴇ.
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pseudowho · 5 months ago
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"--need to go--" kiss "--just for a minute, let me--" kiss "--go to the bathroom, I--" kiss "--god, you're a menace, I'll lift you onto this counter, and you'll stay there until I get back--" giggle, kiss.
You whispered filthy whispers against Kento's lips, playfully dragging him back to you by the collar each time he tried to release himself.
Half-huff, and half-kiss, he grumbled and spun you around as you laughed, gripping your hands behind your back and pressing you forwards against the counter.
"--unhand me, wife, or I'll tie you up--"
"--don't threaten me with a good time, Kento--"
"--truly-- truly incorrigible woman--"
You laughed again, arching back against him, and pressing his cock into the crease of your barely-covered arse until he moaned; in annoyance, or lust? You weren't sure. Perhaps both. You had the bit between your teeth.
Kento wouldn't put up with your shenanigans for much longer. He slapped your arse, jiggling it with a growl, and dashed past your swiping hands to the bathroom. You whined, then sighed to the sound of his victory chuckle, the bathroom door clicking closed behind him.
Silence-- for 30 seconds. A minute. Two minutes. Three. You called out, smirking.
"Doesn't take that long to pee, Ken--"
The bathroom door clicked open. A low, mulish grumble sounded from within.
"I...can't go."
You frowned, stifling a laugh. "What?"
"I can't go. I'm too hard. I...can't pee."
Bursting out into laughter was your downfall, and it broke down into panicked squeals as Kento stomped out of the bathroom after you, his lap tightly tented over his cock.
He tossed you onto the sofa, dragging you back by the legs when you tried to wriggle and escape, and pinning you beneath him with nuzzled growls to your throat.
"--thorn in my side-- too erect to piss, and other problems my wife causes--"
"--oh, no, whatever can we do to fix this--"
"--you're talking too much and wearing too many clothes, as usual-- come back here-- certainly one thing we can do to fix this, madam--"
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silverskyeline · 7 months ago
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'messy' 18+
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oneshot (request) - logan learns that you can squirt, he indulges in that information (1.8k words) pairing - logan howlett (xmen) x f!reader tags - established relationship, fingering, petnames: babygirl, baby, good girl, praising, kind of overstimulation, squirting, lots of squirting, a little rough, he talks reader through it, wet mentions, reader orgasm, dirty talk, fingers in mouth, logan makes reader taste themselves.
.・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・.
you're splayed out on his lap on the sofa just how he likes you to be, nestled on top of his plush, firm thighs. your knees are bent with your ankles resting over either side of his legs, your back flush with his warm chest, your whole body exposed, open, for him.
logan's thick, calloused fingers lazily stroke your clit, earning soft mewls from your lips as your head tilts back over his shoulder. his other hand is ensuring his middle finger pumps in and out of you at a slow pace, your body craving those broad digits stretching your tight walls.
.・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・.
you're moaning, gripping his arm for dear life as you squirm in his lap, rolling your hips instinctively. it was beautiful, the way he could make you sing for him, the way he could make your body move for him with just a few simple strokes, almost like a puppet, pulling your strings. he would never consider himself your 'master', but god, you'd let him control you whenever he liked.
he smirks, nuzzling his fuzzy beard into the side of your cheek, his lips finding their place at your ear, "that feel good, baby girl?" logan asks, his voice a deep purr. he already knows the answer.
you gasp at his low-toned voice, gruff like gravel but sweet like honey, "yes. . ."
"mh, that's what i thought. . . think you can take a little more though." he huffs, slipping another finger inside.
your walls clench around the sudden new presence and you moan, loudly, craving the feeling of being filled by him in whatever capacity he's willing to give.
"that's it," he coos, picking up the pace, "good girl, gooood girl. . ." logan loves how easily he can slip inside of you, how he'd always find you dripping, cunt aching, core throbbing for him. his sensitive ears perk up at the sweet sounds of your wet pussy taking his fingers in, the wet schlick sounds filling the room.
your cheeks flush, looking down at the way his fingers are making light work of you, your shirt hiked up to expose your breasts. with the pace increasing, and the way he's so sweetly purring filthy words into your ear. . . you feel a sensation start to build.
it's. . . new, almost uncomfortable but not quite. not the same as an orgasm but almost. it pools low in your belly, just a little out of reach.
but his fingers pick up again, slamming deep inside of you, curling just enough. his fingers circling your clit remain slow in contrast, creating a dizzying combination of sensations that have you clenching around him and calling out his name over and over in some desperate plea. desperation for him to continue, for the building feeling, for him, full stop.
the feeling returns. fuck, it almost feels like you need to piss. your cheeks flush, eyes rolling back as you fight back the feeling, but he's rubbing you and touching you and fucking you too good for you to hold anything back.
"logan," you gasp, arching your back, "l-logan wait-"
but it's too late, before he even has the chance to slow down, you squirt. your juices coat his hands, his fingers, dripping down along his arm and onto the sofa below earning a gasp from both of you.
his eyes widen, stopping his movements immediately causing you to whine at the sudden lack of friction.
then there's silence, save for the lewd wet dripping from the sofa onto the hardwood floor.
your head is reeling, did. . . did you just squirt? fuck, you'd never done that before. heart pounding, you swallow hard, instinctively wanting to apologise for the mess, "shit, sorry i-"
"holy fuck. . ." he whispers shakily before you even have the chance to finish your sentence, "where were you hidin' that from me?" you can hear the smirk in his voice clear as day as he talks into your ear.
"what?" you whisper.
he smirks, kissing your ear, "you didn't tell me you could make cute little messes like that, baby."
"i didn't know i could. . ." you admit, biting your lip as you feel the cool air of the room brush against your dripping sensitive core.
logan's eyes widen, the implication of your words nestling deep in his brain, and groin. he was the first ever to make you squirt, the first to make you feel so good that you couldn't help but make a mess for him. pride swells in his chest, manifesting in a low rumbling smug chuckle at the back of his throat.
". . .think you could make another mess for me?" he hums, his fingers on your clit slowly resuming their movements.
you whimper, the new sensation you experienced was foreign but surprisingly welcomed. you had no idea it felt that good, that you could ever do that. but logan has a way of coaxing everything out of you, cock and fingers playing you like an instrument he's mastered.
"don't know. . ." you mumble, suddenly feeling skittish.
it's then that his fingers start fucking you again, gliding in and out easily, your fluttering hole welcoming the movement. "you can, i know you can." he encourages, nibbling at your ear, "you'll be a good girl, you'll make another mess for me, won't you?"
fuck, his words. his fucking words. every single time they had you acting crazy, letting out sounds you didn't know you could make. and he drinks them in, drinks up all those sweet little sounds from that pretty little mouth of yours that he loves so much.
you simply nod, feeling his digits pumping rougher, curling to find that sweet sweet spot once more. you're not sure if you can even do it again, but logan seems pretty fucking set on making him gush for you at least once more.
he scissors his fingers slightly, stretching you, the motion making you whine with pleasure. but when he pushes in a third finger? that's when you really start screaming for him.
"that's more like it, huh?" he grins, breathing deeply through his nose from how hard he's working you, "just needed a bit more, cus' i know you like it thick baby, don't you? like it thick like my cock?"
you want to gasp, to react to his words, but your eyes are rolling back again, mouth stuck open in an 'o' shape as you feel that sensation build once more. your body is tensing, thighs clenching, back arching, eyes squeezing shut. subconsciously you hold your breath as if that'll help. he's got you right where he wants you, right where he knows you want to be.
seconds later you're gushing, more this time - it lands on the hardwood below with a crude splash and coats his hands nicely. logan laughs, a deep dirty laugh as you writhe. he gives a gentle slap to your clit, then a firmer one, causing more to spill from you along with some squeaks.
"there we go, good girl, what a good girl. . ." you can hear the smirk in his voice, the wide grin he's wearing, the smugness lacing every word that leaves his lips, "feels good to make a mess for me, doesn't it?"
you're breathless, panting, overwhelmed in the best way. and then he speaks again.
". . . i think you can handle one more." logan purrs, movements suddenly fast and hard. his fingers fuck deep into you, curling to hit your g-spot with each calculated thrust. the fingers on your clit speed up, rubbing in practiced circles sending sparks of electricity throughout your body.
you want it too, you'd give it to him over and over again, create messes all night long if your body let you.
god you'd do anything for him, especially in that moment, and how could you not? the way his fingers play with you, toy with you, slide into you. . .
"d-don't know if i can!" you admit, huffing, trying to get more air.
but he shakes his head, "yes you can." is all he says, firmly.
and he's right. moments later you feel it pooling in your belly once more, the accompanying orgasm approaching that threatens to throw you overboard. you're lost in a sea of sensations, stars in your vision, his voice in your ear the only anchor you have to reality. you let it guide you, until you're drenching his fingers and jeans once more, voice ringing out within his bedroom as his voice coaxes and praises you softly.
his fingers on your clit come together to slap down against you, each smack against your sensitive bundle of nerves causing more to spray. you're making such a big mess, his jeans are damp. he doesn't care. this is what he wants, and fuck, if you don't feel the best you've ever felt in your entire life. . .
he keeps going, his fingers steadily pumping into you roughly, desperate to get every last drop as he feels you clamp down around his fingers. you're moaning, gasping, gripping onto his arm for dear life as you ride out your orgasm. it's too much, but it's also perfect. logan watches on in deep satisfaction as you writhe on his lap, his bulge pressing against you above him, cock twitching and rock hard just from touching you.
as your body relaxes, so do his movements, slowing down. he glides his fingers in a few times, enjoying the slick sounds they make before pulling them from your still-fluttering hole. he lazily drifts his damp digits along your tummy, leaving a trail of wetness up to your chest until it finds your mouth.
you part your lips gladly, turning your head to look up at him through hooded lids as you take his fingers in your mouth. diligently, your tongue laps at his fingers, reeling at the taste of yourself on him, dripping from him.
"good girl, you're always so fuckin' good for me. . ." he smiles, kissing your forehead as he watches you, his free hand resting on your tummy. you enjoy the feeling of his large palm against you, making you feel comforted whilst also grounding you after that whirlwind of release.
you pull his fingers from your mouth with a wet pop, instead kissing along his fingers and down across the sensitive skin of his knuckles. a silent thank you, for making you feel so good.
logan watches keenly, growling quietly at the stirring in his groin. his eyes flash with something. you'd call it mischief.
your eyes flit up to his, knowing what he's thinking before he's even said it.
"wonder what else you can do. . ." he smirks, "keeping any other secrets from me?" logan asks as he rolls his hips against you, prompting you to feel how hard he is for you and you exhale, relaxing back against him.
it was funny, how he could always push you right to the edge when you think you're spent.
and yet have you craving more. . .
you grin, biting your lip, "wanna find out?"
12K notes · View notes
s-imagination · 10 months ago
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Japandi | Living Room CC Pack |Early
Suprise, Suprise Simmers! I'm back with brand new CC pack for The Sims 4!
🌿✨ Discover the serene beauty of Japandi design in this Sims 4 living room setup, featuring 44 unique elements. This space blends Japanese minimalism and Scandinavian functionality with natural materials and a calming color palette. Highlights include a low-profile sofa with green cushions, a woven coffee table, a traditional shoji screen, and elegant wall art. The room exudes tranquility with its harmonious design and thoughtful decor. Perfect for creating a cozy and stylish home in your Sims 4 game! 🌱🪑
With this set you can create your own shelving system, open doors, closed doors, open space with doors, or closed closet, the choice is yours :) I'm continue my Japandi Collection with another room that is Living Room. In future I create more inspired Japnadi rooms so be sure to follow me on Instagram where I upload my progress on current projects.
Set contains:
Sofa
Arm chair
Loveseat
Coffee Table
End Table
Japandi poster
Single Shelf 1x1 ( Short/Medium )
Double Shelf 2x1 ( Short/Medium )
Double Shelf 2 2x1 ( Short/Medium )
Media Cabinet
Long Shelf
Short Shelf
Open Pillar ( Short/Medium/Tall )
Closed Pillar ( Short/Medium/Tall )
Closed Doors ( Short/Medium/Tall )
Open Doors Right ( Short/Medium/Tall )
Open Doors Left ( Short/Medium/ Tall )
Stereo System
CD Player
Mixer
Collection of Books ( 4 diffrent versions )
Book Organizer
Tea Pot
Ink Tray
Ceilling Lamp ( Short/Medium )
Little Weave Frame
THINGS YOU NEED TO KNOW!
All items are Base Game compatibile
All of the textures and meshes are made by me, if you like to use them please mention me
Some of the objects are high poly so be careful
If you see any issues let me KNOW!
NOW AVAILABLE ON EARLY ACCESS!
Public realse June 27th!
You can find objects by typing "Japandi" or "S-im" in search bar in game!
9K notes · View notes
screampied · 6 months ago
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❛ ۪۪۫۫ ༄ؘ HARLEYS IN HAWAII ❜ g. satoru
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☆ sum. it’s been almost a year with your sugar daddy and as a candied sweet surprise, he takes you on his private yacht. although—the thing that’s even sweeter is the ‘love’ chocolates you both try just for fun. after all, satoru’s always had a sweet tooth.
wc. 6.6k
warnings. fem! reader, sugar daddy!gojo au, age gap (early twenties/early thirties), unprotected, aphrodisiac chocolates, marathon séx, praise, dirty talk, overstim, dry humping, feral gojo, fīngering, cervīx mentions, cunnilīngus, spīt, hair pulling, size kink, premature ejac, breedīng, petnames.
➤ sd!gojo masterlist.
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“ah ah, no peekin’ sweetheart,” a husky voice purrs near the nape of your neck. your plump lips curl into a pout as he’s making you drag your feet toward wherever he was taking you to. the air felt coolly warm, so much so that it was humid. satoru told you to wear something comfortable and warm, specifically a sundress. “there we go, jus’ a few more steps. good girl,” and the rubber bottoms of your flip flops stomp against something hard—you’re assuming the rising platforms were stairs. your ears perk and twitch a bit at the sound of crashing waves and you start to grow curious.
“are you—”
“shhh, quiet baby,” he shushes you, and you feel various designer cold band of his rings dance against your skin. again, once you step into what seems to be some wooden platform, he stops you from walking, turning you to face another way. big hands cover over your eyes and your own hands before he gives your cheek a soft chaste kiss. “m’kay, ready to see your surprise?”
with a nod, he removed his palms from your face and your eyes widen at the revealed sight. a yacht, not just any yacht though, but a private one — the satoru gojo yacht that was probably worth millions. it was huge in person, and you don’t even realize the two of you are both in the middle of the ocean until seconds later. “satoru,” you sheepishly say, feeling a wave of butterflies thump through your heart. the older man’s got the cheekiest grin and he takes off his sunglasses, putting them over your face. “when you said ‘surprise’ i thought you meant like new earrings or something.”
“i can always give you those too,” he strokes your cheek, watching as you fail to maintain direct eye contact. despite having the tinted expensive lenses protect your eyes from the sun, it still shined bright—making you squint a little. satoru’s voice pitches low before he playfully lifts you up, fixing the back of your sundress. “but sweetheart, this weekend’s just about you ‘n me,” and once your arms cling onto him, he starts walking near the lower part of the rumbling yacht. “besides, i have one more surprise to show you. felt like spoilin’ you a bit more today.”
you were quite literally living in luxury. .
as if the outside of the yacht wasn’t breathtaking, just wait until you saw the master bedroom.
despite how you were slowly starting to get accustomed to this lifestyle, his lifestyle—you couldn’t help but be amazed at such royalties being given to you. his yacht was even prettier inside, but this was the norm for satoru. and with him, he had no problem sharing his luxuries with you, his favorite girl.
just for you and no one else.
but you couldn’t think but get trapped in your mind at certain thoughts plucking through your brain. you started to wonder what would have happened if satoru was never a passenger of first class when you used to work as a flight attendant.
you’d constantly wonder the what if’s, but of course you were always always grateful. it’s one of the many thing’s satoru liked about you, how you were always thankful without even saying it. you’d show it, even going far as to giving him gifts.
“imagine we lived here,” satoru hums, leaning back against the satiny cushioned pillows. the entire room was spacey, with rose-gold paint covering the walls. he brushes a thumb over his cocktail glass as he sits on the burgundy sofa. the slick floor’s a sheeny beige color, and in the background, played some old vintage noir.
‘sunset boulevard’, one of satoru’s favorites.
he preferred lots of silent films and adored more than anything when the two of you would watch them together. he’s got on a silk red robe, twirling a bit of his white shown chest hair with a finger. “life on the water. sounds romantic, yeah?”
“what if we drowned, ‘toru,” you mumble, stepping out of the bathroom. the floor was made of slick glass crystals that made up the smooth texture, and you then pause—staring at the white haired man. he’s pretty, manspread and laid back with his hair slickly parted. ever since he’s met you, he grew his hair out a little and it slightly flows near his shoulders a bit. still unkempt and parted, it gives him a more maturely modern look.
his dimples poke near the inside of his cheeks before he simpers. “princess, we won’t drown,” and he sets aside his glass. satoru’s bright eyes linger toward your sundress—one of the many he’s bought you within in the past month.
it fit perfectly, it’s a cerulean blue color that almost matches his eyes.
if it was anything he liked, it was to pick out your outfits, and of course—he’d let you do the same for him. “phew,” he whistles, eyeing you carefully. “you look gorgeous. like always,” he murmurs, averting his eyes away from the screen and now giving you his uninvited attention. your plush thighs cling together before you feel the room of the yacht grow abnormally warm. “oh, right. the other surprise i wanted to show you, c’mere.”
“okay,” you mumble, making your way toward him. satoru slouches back against the cushioned sofa, spreading his legs even wider. slut, he knew what he was doing with his robe slit halfway open, exposing his growing chest hair. a snowy white curl of hairs glue against his chest and you gawk further down toward his lengthy happy trail. god, you found yourself swallowing thickly the more you stared and you could see the smug grin forming against his thin lips. “what . . is it?”
“i remember a few weeks ago you said you wanted to try tabs chocolate,” satoru mumbles, and you watch as he pulls out a thin black cover of rich chocolate. your eyes widened.
he remembered?
you stare at the pricey covered casing, already smelling the cocoa from the wrap. it was true . .
you teased satoru about wanting to try tabs chocolate one day, just to see if it was really real. you were curious on if the chocolate really could help invigorate and arouse people in the bedroom. satoru shrugs, glancing at the cursive writing displayed on the candy. “. . so, i got it for us both. i don’t think it really works, by the way.”
with an eye roll, you plop down on his lap. a beefy arm snakes around your waist before you grab the slim package. “i checked the ratings online. ‘m pretty sure it works, satoru,” and he gives you a complacent nod with his hands raising teasingly. calling your bluff quietly, he watches you tear the plastic all the way open. his eyes follow your fingers and how they swiftly drag away at the nearly wrapped material. once everything’s removed, it’s an entire dark chocolate bar with three perfectly attached squares. even the smell was arousing. “do you wanna try it at the same time?”
“how ‘bout you feed it to me,” satoru coos, and you feel what you think is his leg prodding underneath you. “i’ll feed you yours, sweetheart.”
damn, even his sentences sounded vaguely dirty.
you felt a lump grow in your throat before you blink thrice, holding up the bar of candy. “f. . fine,” you huff, and you watch as his perfectly parted lips sprawl apart. at the same time, you both slowly feed each other a small bite of the chocolate. the moment the rich taste of maca cocoa and sugar falls onto your salivating tastebuds, you let off a soft hum. it’s sweet, but you remember reading online that the effects would take a good twenty to thirty minutes to kick in.
satoru chews it, swallowing it and he scoffs. “honey, i think you just got scammed. nothing’s happening—”
famous last words. .
because not even thirty minutes later, satoru finds himself dived nose-first right between your legs.
he’s feral, on his knees for you and all. usually, satoru would shower you with lots of foreplay, kissing down your neck, your thighs, every part and inch of your body — but now, he couldn’t.
not when he felt so hot, his body felt like it was it was scorchingly on fire. and of course, satoru being satoru just had to lick your fingers after you fed him his single piece of chocolate.
you’re laid up on the sofa now, whimpering with a hand digging through his shaggy white locks.
satoru’s the most deranged he’s ever been, and you’ve seen him feral for you in more ways than you could count. he’s laying his tongue flat, lapping up your sweet folds, still tasting the chocolate on his tongue with the mixture of your own slick.
“f- fuuuck,” he’d huff, feeling his heart beat thump through his ears. it was barely even a big bite and he was like this. you couldn’t help but imagine how he’d be if he ate the entire bar.
you’re moaning, glancing out the window and taking in the breathtaking view of the dancing choppy waves staring right back at you. a pretty serene canvas of rotating waters—you found yourself getting lost at the sea, gazing at how the waters would violently crash against the bottom of the yacht. it’s a mesmerizing view. after a while, your eyes move back down toward satoru who’s still between your legs. he’s lowly groaning, slowly rutting his hips into the edge of the sofa. “ ‘s like the candy makes you taste sweeter.”
“don’t stop s- satoru,” you moan, making sure to keep a firm grip on his head. his pretty lashes were closed shut whilst he’s swirling counterclockwise circles against your puffed clit.
fuck, you felt a gasping shriek snatch out from the back of your throat once you felt him starting to suck. he was always messy - always.
tangled strings of saliva would dribble down past the corners of his lips, flopping onto your sweet cunt. satoru had the kind of tongue where you’d feel him everywhere.
he flicks it around everywhere, spelling out every letter of his name before spitting on it, licking it up directly afterwards. a palm smears his bubbling saliva before he laps it up again, thrusting his tongue in and out. “ooooh,” you’d squeal, feeling him wrap his mouth around your pussy. you’re twitching inside every few seconds and he feels your cute dramatic pulses. beryl blue eyes that blissfully shine against the sunlight flicker up at you briefly and he’s got that same smug grin again.
“mphm, pull on it,” he grunts, and you whine once he traps your swollen clit between his teeth, holding your throbbing nub hostage. satoru can feel himself getting more and more hard, all because of the sweet melodic sounds that left from your lips.
both lips, on one end you’re hysterically moaning and the next, you’re squelching repeatedly.
his favorite thing to listen to—satoru’s favorite place out of all the places he’s taken you to, had to be between your thighs.
at his words, you weakly give him a soft tug, grabbing a nice handful of his perfect locks and he gets tugged forward. “good girl,” he huskily grumbles, resuming to lick two long stripes up and down against your cunt. forever more, he’s savoring your syrupy taste that lingers on his tongue and dribbles from the chin down, moaning from the aftertaste of the chocolate that just won’t go away. “god, this view’s even prettier than the ocean,” he licks his lips, and you feel yourself pulsate once he breaks away for a split moment to catch irregular breaths.
satoru swipes a thumb over his naturally glossed lips, whistling against your pussy just to feel your sensitive nub throb on his tongue even more.
“oh, she’s a cutie,” he rasps, white brows pursing together. he pulls out two long fingers, preparing to delve them inside. “so pretty ‘n all soaked just for me,” and you moan, your thighs curling around his shoulders. squiiish, the moment he’s easing his lengthy thin fingers inside, you gush out a bit right on him. you were indeed wet . . sopping.
you were already a bit drenched from before, and with the chocolate, you felt even more aroused. it felt like being on a rush - a sugar rush.
satoru huskily coos, delicately curling his fingers further inside before he reaches your g-spot within just two inches of a stretch. “there it is, there’s my other favorite girl.”
“sato—fuucckk,” you drag out your pathetic words, gradually moving his head to side against your sopping cunt with one hand. he’s got his mouth full, stuffed, and his entire face was just flushed from being squished between your thighs. “like that, s- suck my clit, baby.”
“baby, huh?” he mocks your sudden pet name, feeling your fingers comb through his messy frosted strands. embarrassment washes over you and he chortles, finding your reaction to his teasing downright adorable. you whimper as he’s still vigorously scissoring long twin digits inside of you. as your stomach submissively caves in, you start to gnaw on the bottom of your lip. “aw, don’t be shy. i like bein’ called petnames too, y’know,” he whispers against your cunt, watching how easily you soak up both fingers.
your folds couldn’t help but drool. streams of your own slick cascade down between the crevices of your thighs and coat the entirety of his fingers.
with a rosy flat tongue, he slurps you clean, taking every few seconds to pull his fingers out - only to push them right back in.
as your eyes squeeze shut, you start to feel your teeth clench and shatter together from the rhyming pressure.
there, once the fat tips of his fingers poke against your g-spot again, and again, and again. .
that was all it took for you to let off a cute three second shriek. abruptly, a sharp twisting coil snaps within you and he feels your thighs turbulently shake within his feeble grasp.
“fuck, fuck,” you whine, feeling his lukewarm breath continue to ghost against your clit. you couldn’t stay still for the life of you—it was as if every muscle in your body snapped once you came, your jaw dropped and your eyes widened.
“ohmygodohmygod,” you ramble, and satoru’s still flicking his tongue against your sobbing slit.
you’re making a mess out of him and he’s eating it up - like always. his pointed chin’s got such a pretty glimmer of shine all thanks to your glimmering slick running down. with a echoing ‘pop’, he slides his fingers out of your cunt, stretching his digits further apart just to see how your sap glues against them. “ngh, s- satoru you’re so nasty.”
“only nasty for you, sweetheart,” he cheekily whispers, leaning further in to give your cunt one single kiss.
it’s a soft passionate smooch that makes you throb against his lips. only satoru gojo could make out with your pussy right between your thighs. you’re speechless—you could feel yourself still shaking from your recent orgasmic release, the ringing in your ears never subsiding.
satoru’s pretty azul eyes remain fixated on your wet cunt before he gives it one final suck of departure. “mmph,” and his growing white stubble starts to drench even more all because of your sweet slickness that smears against your the lower part of his face. “fuck, ‘m still hungry. ‘s not enough.”
as your legs twitch and remain spread apart, you’re gasping for air as you watch him take breaths of his own to collect himself. “don’t pout,” he huffs, sitting up to close the distance between you both. with his hair all ruffled and tangled—he grinds himself into you. “oh. you want a taste too, pretty?”
“y- yeah,” you nod with droopy eyes, feeling the same amounts of sheer heat.
satoru’s flushed just as much as you, and it seems like as he’s leaning into you, he’s moving in slow motion. once his lips crash onto yours, you moan into his mouth.
he wastes no time shoving his tongue down your throat, pulling on the straps of your sundress. you feel a wolffish grin curl against his lips once his tongue delves even further into your mouth, feeling you part your own away. satoru can’t help but grind against your warm body, feeling your legs hook around his waist. even the touch—the skin against skin makes you both even more hotter. it’s like static rubbing off against each other, and you were about to feel yourself short circuit any minute.
“fuck, ‘toru,” you whimper between sultry sloppy kisses, loud teeth smacking and clashing together. you slowly drag a hand down his hairy chest, twirling a frosty strand around your finger.
the taste — it’s candied sweet.
the rich cocoa still lingers on both twisting tongues and you moan, feeling him nip his teeth near your lip. “you’re perfect,” he gruffly purrs, his voice having its same deep rasp. his kisses become more and more filthy and rough and he playfully licks underneath your chin. “mhm, woman you drive me crazy.”
satoru was still very much hard though—very.
you could feel his boner poke from his robe, it must’ve felt painful.
he was so hard, it outlines against the silky woven fabric the more he grinds into you. satoru couldn’t keep his hands off of you. he’s leaving an invisible trail of kisses all down the slope of your neck, sucking against your tender exposed skin. you always tasted sweet than any chocolate he’s ever eaten.
but it’s to his surprise once you lightly push him back against the cushioned sofa.
“hmph! hey,” he falls back, white strands sticking across his perspiring forehead. satoru eyes you with a bewildered look, wondering what’s with the sudden bratty glint shining in your dilated irises. “that was rude, princess. oughta—”
“lie back,” only two words and he was at your very command. satoru couldn’t lie, whenever you had the audacity to give him orders . . he found it hot.
even if it didn’t last that long,
the white haired man slouches back at your command, roving his eyes down your body. he studies the pretty sundress that hugs against your curves and the way you move.
satoru ogles openly as you made your way on top, straddling him before slowly throwing your arms over his broad shoulders. “relax satoru,” you’d breathe, and he groans the moment electrifying friction kneads against his lap. all because of your hips swerving on his raging boner, you cause a spark that ignites within you both. to say you were a ‘mere’ tease was an understatement. “like that, hold my hips baby,” and his big hands gradually move toward your rocking waist. you start to jerk against him real slowly, casually grinding yourself on his lap. you swerved around, guiding his hands to where you wanted them to go.
“oh, s. . sweetheart,” he choked out a nervous laugh, his boner steadily arising underneath his robe.
for a moment, the two of you forget that you’re both on a yacht, surrounded by nothing but smooth pretty bodies of water. it was as if it was only you and him in the entire world. time stood still. it was like you were moving slow, and the more your body moved, the slower time got.
satoru stares at the way you playfully sway your hips against his. he groans, the cloth from his robe that protects his hardened cock continuing to rub against his skin. “you’re killin’ me here. let me touch some more at least.”
“ask nicely,” you lean in closely, pressing a kiss near the left side of his cheek. satoru shivers from your touch, his jaw feeling heavy. such a tease, but that’s what he got for spoiling you rotten.
with a near pout, satoru grumps. “please, sweetheart,” and his big hands glide toward your active waist anyway. “let me touch my pretty girl while she’s movin’ her cute hips on me,” and his playfulness returns within a blink of an eye. you hear the cheekiness in his voice and he leans in to nip a kiss near your neck. “fuckin’ brat.”
“then do something about it.” you whisper with a coy grin, resuming your salaciously addictive movements against his lap. satoru grunts, his brows contorting together in frustration before he grabs your wrists, pinning them up.
satoru’s now got you in a secure grasp and a hand snakes down your waist, giving your ass a soft squeeze. a jiggling nice chunk goes into his palm before he seductively licks up your neck. “i plan to, little girl.”
and he did.
one second you’re on his lap—the next, you’re lightly being slammed on all fours, cheek smushed ruthlessly against the padded sofa.
you squeak out a tiny gasp, feeling him practically tear your sundress apart. satoru groans, staring at your bare ass cheek that’s peeking out of your loose clothing. you’ve got a bratty smile twirling against your lips but it soon fades away once you feel that.
his fat tip—satoru brings it up towards the opening of your sopping cunt, smacking it three times against your folds. “you’ve got some nerve, sweetheart,” he clicks his tongue, hearing your broken whimpers return.
god, even your pussy felt warm against him. fiery electricity surges through you both and he hisses, watching as your pulsating pussy desperately tries to swallow his cock wholly.
he’s so big, you knew it and you didn’t even have to face him directly. all you had to do was feel.
his tip was round and thick, reddened with a rosé flushed color. satoru tosses his head back, feeling your pussy twitch against him as a sloppy greeting of its own.
“heh. she’s so excited,” he breathes through clenched teeth, already breaking a sweat. the yacht continues to slowly create distance in the background but at that point, no one was even thinking about the yacht. “so. fuckin’. wet.”
he smacks his weighty dick against the outside entrance of your pussy, hearing the sloshing whines squawk out of your poor needy folds. as he’s hitting his tip against your cunt, he purposely punctuates his words with tap.
“satoruuuu.” you’d moan, desperately aching for him to just go in already. you wanted it, and the searing heat you felt coursing through your veins just from the chocolate made you throb ten times more.
“i know, baby. i know,” he coos in a rough voice, talking over your whiny babbles. panting heavily,
satoru glances down once his leaking tip finally disappears inside of your drenched cunt. you let off a shaky breath, even going so far as to wriggling your ass back against him just so he could hurry the fuck up.
“tsk. so impatient,” he snickers, velvet straps of his robe skimming against his skin. satoru’s got a bulbous fat curve and with a single hand, he gives his cock a few stroking pumps.
one, two, three . .
he groans once a bit of loose skin from his coral colored frenulum peels back. as he’s stroking himself every few milliseconds, a prodding vein pokes against his palm. bristles of white hairs that glue against his thickset base tickle against his skin.
“mhm, gonna take my time with you. now let’s see that cute arch. just like we practiced.”
moaning, your back raises slightly with your knees cowardly burying themselves into the sofa. “mmph,” and he lightly pushes your head further into the cushion. his tip was so close.
he’s hitting you from behind with his thrusts slowly, on purpose.
he wants to hear those sweet sounds cry out from your lips. satoru grunts once he’s finally going in, thick cock stretching around your elastically stretched walls.
you’re so soft — sweet gummy flesh compressing around him with such ease, wringing him tight like a vice. satoru groans, giving his chiseled hips a single shimmy before pursing his lips together.
“thaaat’s it, hngh. this pussy knows it’s place,” he grouses, and your eyes widen once you feel his plumpish tip delve further between each corner of your slick cunt. he’s fucking thick, and within seconds later he was already inches in.
once his flushing crown disappears inside of your cunt, you whimper once he gives you one single thrust that causes your entire body underneath him to quake. “fuck, ‘s so sensitive,” satoru nearly whines, still feeling tingly from the saccharine flavored treat. he’s panting heavily, mouth dangling open and all. “how’s it feel, sweetheart? ‘m not going too rough, yeah? talk to me.”
“good. feels good, ngh. don’t stop, ‘toru. harder,” you beg, a hand of yours reaching from behind, crawling near your ass. you eye satoru through your blurred peripherals as you turn slightly around and he flashes you a sleazy grin.
that’s the look he makes before he’s about to fuck you stupid,
that’s the look where his eyes were hooded and half lidded, panting heavily like a dog with multiple thin strands of white hair sticking across his forehead.
you were fucked, literally. .
“hah, wasn’t gonna,” he moans, feeling his cock grow insanely sensitive. it was in a way he couldn’t explain—so hot, his head swells up once he starts to move.
as he’s trying to create a decent rhythm with his hips, he’s oscillating deeply into your core. sloppy thrusts pound into you with such carnal vigor that he’s basically humping against your cunt.
every few elongated seconds that dragged out, his tip mercilessly smacks against that target buried deep inside your cunt, striking a perfect bullseye.
‘x’ makes the spot, and his dick always knew where to locate your clit — every single time.
it doesn’t take long before satoru loses it, and he’s losing his momentum. his movements consisted of want and ache.
the head of satoru’s cock was turgid, slowly dragging in and out of your puffed clit as you damp up his entire length. you whimper, feeling the legs of the sofa rattle and jitter from underneath you both. he’s got mean deep strokes that leaves your jaw dropped, toes curled, tummy churning all from how good he’s hitting you.
you’re cutely smothered into the pillows with your mouth just pried open, forming a small gasping ‘o.’
every stroke, every hit, every smack against your ass, you felt like you were on cloud nine - the lewd dirty version no one ever talks about though.
satoru’s got a big hand tracing down the curvature of your waist that later trails down toward your ass. he can’t help but feel against the thin fabric of the sundress, tempted to just rip it off it you. he’d be happy to buy you dozens more anyway.
“fuck me, fuck me satoru,” your eyes roll crisscross, and your entire body feels itself repeatedly ringing from the merciless slaps of skin hitting against each other with determined might to reach his well awaited potency.
he’s bucking his hips against you, watching as tears of sweat start to race down the cracked valley of your ass. “fuck, ‘toru, satoru—ah!”
“heh, sweetheart the walls aren’t soundproof,” satoru playfully bonks the back of your head. your moaning falters, and he chuckles mid-thrust. “aw, don’t be embarrassed,” and you let off a soft gasp once he presses his sharp hips all the way against you. a beefy arm wraps around your neck in a safe hold before he grunts in a husky whisper right up against your ear canal. “ ‘m sure the captain won’t mind, be as loud as you want.”
“s- shit,” you whimper, already starting to feel your thighs struggle to stay afloat. satoru towers over you completely, rutting into you from behind with irregular toe-curling hits.
he’s meanly jackhammering you further into the sofa, the screeching sounds of the seagulls outside growing louder. the loud reverberating claps of skin that roughly ricochet against skin makes your ears ring like bells on a wedding day.
as he’s feeling his cock tighten inside of you, he’s now got you in prone bone. he’s so close to you, hovering his weight behind you with his sculptured hips glued to your ass.
satoru’s thrusts now go slow, slow but deep, making sure you feel, savor, and devour every single inch. “ugh, that spot ‘toru, right fuckin’ there. ‘m close.”
a hand goes over your mouth and you let of a muffled, ‘mmph?’ as he’s still fucking you raw.
satoru’s popping his bulbous crownhead in and out of your stuffed pussy before lowly groaning once coolly air briefly sets against his skin.
“watch that mouth,” and you whimper, feeling his free hand grab near your neglected breasts. you lean into his touch, feeling a bit of your own saliva dribble onto his palm. a thumb of his swipes against your perked nipples that poke through your sundress and you let off a muffled moan. “such a filthy pretty mouth. ‘s a shame,” and he leans in more, licking a stripe near your neck. “i don’t think girls with colorful mouth’s should cum. do you think they should?”
as if on cue, your head raises up and down, doing a cute attempt of a nod as he’s still got your mouth covered. satoru’s still thwacking his fat cockhead into your g-spot continuously until your brain’s short circuiting.
“awww, yeah?” he hums, pressing a kiss near the back of your head. and oh, he’s cocky again, deepening his hits against your core. removing his arm from around your neck, he raises your hips up just a little bit for a more better and thorough angle. “too bad, because i wasn’t talkin’ to you, silly girl.”
and you moan even louder once a rude buck of his hips snaps into you at such untamed speed. you gasp right away, your entire body trembling beneath the sofa. “talkin’ to her,” and as his hand drags down your back, he maneuvers a few circles against your stuffed clit.
you’re whimpering, occasionally glancing out the window. the waves continue to crash against the port side of the yacht background — beautiful.
you’d never get used to the view. the salty smell of the sea wafts against your flaring nostrils as you’re literally being stuffed full of cock, eyes rolling back with your back completely arched. satoru’s so big, splitting you open with his vast mushroom tip so easily. “god, she’s got so much to say today, listen to her cute ‘lil sentences,” and he briefly pulls out, hearing your cunt ‘pop’ out a word or two, wetly squelching from the continuous thrusts.
satoru’s throbbing cock drooled from the sides with seeping white droplets of pre-cum and he groans once he feels himself tightening yet again.
“fuck mee,” and he takes a second to stare at your pretty cunt that’s got your folds slobbering with so much honeyed glistening sap. “aw, she said no,” he teases, dragging a sleazy thumb down your pleading saturated entrance. your mess quickly soaks against his fingertips, making him just as wet as you. satoru feels you writhing against his touch, begging for him to finish and he chuckles. he tsks, wrapping a hand around his shaft before another hand wraps around your neck. hmm. does the pretty baby deserve it? after that ‘lil stunt you tried to pull on me?”
“s- satoru, please,” you moan, feeling your weak legs gradually buckle against the fuzzy furniture. you swallowed whatever pride you had left, feeling your mouth suddenly grow dry as the anticipation grew.
you were so close - right there. practically. gnawing on the bars of your enclosure.
he knew had to tease you, keep you on the edge of your toes. with your ass cutely trying to raise up and move back against him, you let off a sobbing moan. “lemme cum, please. ‘m sorry.”
“no you’re not, sweetheart,” he whispers. aligning himself again between your sniveling slick slit, his wide pink tip leisurely starts to stretch throughout your gummy walls yet again. oh, that part. the way his hefty hanging curve twists its way inside, you felt like you were tasting literal ecstasy. “are ya?”
“no,” you moan, still having a bit of brat left in you.
satoru snickers, the expensive band of his watch gliding against your hip as he holds you in place.
“at least you’re honest,” and you shudder, feeling him lick a long stripe up your sensitive jugular. his girth was so broad and wide, you feel him dip every inch inside of your cunt and you were sure you were gonna break.
he treated you like a doll—specifically a rag doll, tossing you and fucking you where it hits good.
but, fuck was satoru was ruthless.
he’s unapologetically sloppy with his thrusts, making you grind back into his pivoting hips. as his sack hangs back against his loose skin, he smears his lax lips together, groaning at how effortlessly you were squeezing against him.
“fuck, you’re gonna make me cum too, sweetheart,” and as his body’s still pressed right against yours, he hoarsely grunts lowly against your ear. “give it t’ me, make a mess on ‘toru, baby.”
his words poured into your ears like silk, smooth like honey. each sentence he spoke had an effect on you, more than the love chocolates ever did . .
you felt your pussy sporadically convulsing just from his raspy out of breath tone alone.
satoru’s rotund cockhead continues to bruise against your cervix, sloppily kissing around each spot until you’re practically screaming out his name. “louderrr,” he purrs, kissing down your neck once more.
the coarse smacks of skin continue to echo against the walls of the spacious yacht bedroom and satoru grunts.
oh, he’s whipped.
his hips start to slow down by each second, and you feel that pressure within you finally snap. “that’s my girl, thaaaat’s it,” and he talks over your whimpers yet again, creating a wet trail of kisses down your shown shoulder blade. “atta girl, atta fuckin’ girl.”
the both of you groan in unison and after a while, he shortly follows. satoru’s cock was so full, he’s snapping his hips into you at such a wicked speed that you could barely keep up. his stamina was simply unmatched.
you let off a whine and so does he—seeping his teeth into your neck. “hngh, fuckin’ shit.” and as he grabs both of your hips, slowly reeling you back into him - he’s cumming, hard.
thick ropes slowly spurt into you, spraying right near your womb and he lets off the sexiest moan.
it lasts for a good seconds, and it’s like he got defeated — your pussy being the opponent. .
satoru’s washboard abs flex beneath his rope as his head tosses back. it’s an almost growl that leaves his lips. his sensitive tip locks into your tightening entrance, still feeling ribbons of satiny ropes dribble into you at such a snail like pace. it’s so much.
he’s staring to pant more and more as globs of sweat pouring down the sides of his forehead. satoru’s cock shrivels up inside of you and he gives your ass a soft spank. his sweltering hot crown stills itself inside of your cunt as he stays still, lavishing in the sensitivity of both slick mounds enjoy the sticky feelings of fluids combining in lewd felicity. both bodies rut against each other and now it was his turn for his eyes to roll back.
“s- satoru,” you quietly whimper out, feeling the bubbles of creamy wads ooze down between the fat crevices of your thighs.
a lustrously white ring forms around his tender base before he gradually starts to pull himself out. you’re still reclined, feeling your entire body heat up even more. your sundress was still pulled up to your waist and he groans, tugging at the fabric with one hand, another touching his own mess he just created that’s spilling down your thighs.
“such a sloppy girl,” he huffs, out of breath. even still, he’s cumming inside and merrily fills you up to the very brim.
you moan once he slides back in, only to pull his aching tip right back out out. it’s another loud ‘pop’ that resounds through each of your twitching ears.
holding a sharp breath, satoru’s cock slathers itself against your drooling pussy before smacking it against your folds yet again. “look at that, ‘m never gonna get tired of that sight.”
satoru ends up fucking you stupid for hours on his yacht.
in all positions—any position, he moved you toward the bed, folding your poor limbs like a pretzel while his cock continued to massage through your walls by stretching you open. satoru made sure you never forget the barrage he made inside with his lengthy length.
satoru was always whipped for you, but it’s like with the addition of chocolate, it made him ten times more feral. ten times more feral for you.
he’s hungry, you could see the look in his eyes. how his pupils were blown, how he made sure to give you romantically deep yet nasty strokes.
his body would rock against you in sync against your own while the yacht that carried you both continued to judder in the background.
he pumped you full—stuffing you entirely again, and again, and again . . simply put, he was virile.
like he said before, you drove him crazy, and he was starting to think to himself, maybe . . just maybe, you weren’t just his sugar baby anymore.
each time he’d spray a generous amount of cum inside of you, he’d let out a loud guttural groan. he’s weak from how warm you feel from the inside, and your moans for him to keep going only fueled him. satoru’s a literal animal, manhandling your body and fucking you everywhere he possibly could in the master bedroom.
the sofa, the bed, the wall, against the mirror. .
his favorite,
he loved to wrap a hand around your throat, making you stare at your lewd facial expressions right with him. the way your glossed lips would part and your eyes would widen once he makes you stare at the slight bulge that pokes against the lower part of your tummy. he’d serenade something to your ear in a purring deep voice like, “feel me there, sweetheart?” making you touch the exact spot he was hitting.
a pearly stream of his seed dribbles outside of your folds and now, he’s got you in nothing more but an intimate mating press.
“eyes up here,” he rasps a soft panting tone, gently prying your hands away from your face.
he’d just coaxed you through yet another orgasm, and your entire body felt like it just ran a marathon. you were sure by now the effects of the chocolate had worn off for the both of you - it did.
but with satoru, he looked like those many rounds didn’t even faze him. not one.
he’s still lodged inside of your cunt, his tip spitting out thick ropes for the nth time of the night and he groans. your eyes glance down his snowy happy trail and glance at his sharp v-line that’s tensing up from the stimulation. “you . . took me so well,” and he leans in, pressing a tender kiss against your lips.
“mmf—” your arms wrap around him, entrapping his skin waist with your legs. his toned body rocks itself into you for just a few more times before he steadily pulls out. his flaccid cock rests against your bare tummy and you moan, tasting the last few remnants of sugar that lies on his tongue.
satoru’s heart beats rapidly, and once he opens his eyes to stare at you, he knew you were dangerous.
tresses of white hair glue against your skin once his forehead lightly pressed against yours. within seconds, after he found himself pulling you into another deep kiss, something was different. this time, out of all the kisses you shared with him, you think this one meant something more.
it was far more slow and passionate, his body rocks against yours and he groans in your mouth, feeling your hands scratch down his soft skin. you leave a painting of scratches all down his back, a canvas he can’t wait to look at later.
as your tongue continues to tangle with his, strands of spit form into translucent cobwebs before he starts to suck on your tongue. “god, woman you drive me insane,” and he pulls away, completely out of breath. his pretty lips were all glossed and swollen, and he cups your face. “sweets, i—,” he cuts off, locking eyes with you.
his heart was pounding,
telling him to say it - just say it.
but the way you gave him that look . . your arms remain wrapped around him, limbs tangled with each other and he lets out a soft sigh. delicately, he pulls out and watches you let off a soft moan once you were now clenching around nothing.
“ah,” he shakes his head, leaning in to press a kiss against the corner of your quivering lip. “i . .” and a lump gets caught in his throat.
you strum a thumb against his undercut, a simple gesture that you knew would always soothe him.
the white haired man leans into your touch, his heart practically yelling at him to just spit the words out before he speaks against your lips, slowly lifting up your leg, kissing your ankle.
“i think . . i think ‘m in love with you, sweetheart.”
7K notes · View notes
hanniebaeee · 3 months ago
Text
Pieces of Us
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Chris Bang x fem!reader
Warnings: SMUT MDNI
Genre: Exes to lovers, second chance love, fluff, smut
Summary: Even a year after your divorce, you can't get over Chris. You keep seeing him all the time because you're co parenting your daughter, and you see that he's still the same man you fell in love with. And you both haven't moved on at all.
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It’s late. Your apartment is silent except for the hum of the refrigerator, as you sit on the sofa, nursing a glass of wine when you hear the doorbell.
You find Chris on your doorstep, punctual as usual, holding your toddler, Mia, against his chest, her small body curled into him like she’s still a newborn.
Your heart does a funny little lurch. It must be the wine. Definitely the wine.
“She fell asleep in the car,” he whispers, stepping inside. He is still dressed in his formals, and your traitorous eyes drink him in.
“Rough day?” he asks softly, noting the wine and the way your shoulders sag.
“Something like that,” you mutter, gesturing to Mia’s room. “You can put her to bed.”
Chris nods, carrying her toward her bedroom. He emerges moments later, quietly shutting her door behind him. His gaze locks onto yours, dark and a little too comforting.
“What happened?” he asks, folding his arms against his chest.
“It’s nothing,” you say, but Chris raises an eyebrow.
“Bullshit,” he counters smoothly, sitting next to you on the sofa. “You know you can't lie to me.”
You roll your eyes but relent and say, “Work politics. Same old garbage.”
Chris winces, before he leans forward and says, “You’re too good for them, you know that, right?”
Those are simple words, but they hit harder than they should. You glance at him, something raw flickering in your chest.
“Oh please,” you murmur, looking away.
“What?” He asks. “It’s true.”
You don’t answer, reaching instead for the bottle of wine. Chris doesn’t stop you as you pour a second glass.
“Here, celebrate my failures with me,” you tease, trying to ease your own heart. “I don't feel like wallowing in self pity alone tonight.”
He snorts, shaking his head, but takes the glass.
“You're so dramatic,”
“And yet, you were married to me for five years,” you quip, with a grin.
The wine loosen you both faster than it should. Soon, you’re reminiscing about Mia’s first words, and the road trip to Busan where the car broke down, and you ended up making out in the car till Minho came to rescue you both.
“I miss this,” you admit quietly, the words slipping out before you can stop them. “Talking...and everything,”
You and Chris had been good friends before you both fell in love. It had been the most beautiful years of your life before things started falling apart.
He doesn’t say anything, but reaches out, his fingers brushing yours. It’s subtle, but it sets your heart racing. Like always. Even a year after your divorce, you clearly haven't moved on.
“I miss it too,” he finally says, his voice low. “All the time.”
“Please don’t say that if you don’t mean it.” you mumble.
He leans in, closer than he’s been in a more than year, his dark eyes locked onto yours.
“You think I don’t mean it? You think I ever stopped wanting you?”
Your breath catches as he closes the distance between you. His lips hover inches from yours as he says, “I never stopped…”
It’s reckless, stupid, maybe even a mistake - but you don’t care. You let him close the gap, his lips crashing into yours, and everything you’ve been holding back spills over.
The kiss is messy and heated - all the pent-up frustration and longing coming crashing down. His hands find your waist, pulling you closer, and you melt against him, your arms circling his neck. His lips move against yours desperately, like he is afraid to let go.
When you finally break apart, breathless and a little lost, Chris brushes a thumb over your cheek.
“This doesn’t fix anything,” you whisper.
“No. But it’s a start.”
It’s intoxicating - the feel of him, the heat radiating off his body. You both pull each other close again, his lips moving down your neck, leaving soft kisses.
But somewhere in between, reality raises its nagging head and you falter.
“Wait,” you murmur, pulling back slightly.
Chris freezes, his breathing ragged, as he asks, “What’s wrong?”
“This is… reckless,” you whisper, though your heart won't allow you to let go of him.
He exhales sharply, leaning back just enough to meet your gaze. “Y/N, I -”
“Don’t,” you interrupt, your voice trembling. “I don't want us to mess up again.”
He gives you a look and you think he might argue. But then he sighs. He looks exhausted and a little heart broken. But he stands up and says, “You’re right. We can’t… not like this.”
“You have to go.” You swallow hard, the lump in your throat threatening to choke you.
He stares at you for a long moment, then he nods.
“Right. I’ll… I’ll call tomorrow to check on Mia.” he says, clearing his throat.
You nod, biting your lip to keep it from trembling. Because this feels even harder than the first time.
“Goodnight, Chris.” you whisper.
“Goodnight,” he says, his voice rough.
As soon as he’s gone, the tears you’ve been holding back spill over. You sink onto the couch, your face in your hands, and you cry until your throat is raw. You missed him. And you still hate yourself for letting this happen.
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It starts with a look. It always does.
The next time Chris comes by, it’s late again, Mia’s tiny backpack slung over his shoulder, and her hand clutching his tightly as they walk to your door. You try to play it cool, standing in the doorway with your arms crossed and a polite smile fixed on your face.
But then he looks at you and the air shifts.
“Hi,” he says, his voice lower than it needs to be, his gaze lingering on your mouth.
“Hi,” your voice shakes but it's soft.
Mia is already running into her room, way too excited to get to her new playset, and Chris watches her for a moment, before his gaze settles on you.
And then there are no words exchanged as his hands grab you towards him and he's pushing you against the kitchen counter, kissing you.
You moan softly as his tongue slips into your mouth. His hand slips down your back, cupping your butt before pulling you flush against himself.
“Is this going to keep happening?” you ask breathlessly, as he kisses down your neck. Past your collarbone. Down your chest. His face is buried in your breasts, before he kisses them over your t-shirt.
Your fingers tangle in his hair, holding on to him, and you gasp as he bites your nipple over the fabric and a dull pleasure courses through your body.
“What?” he murmurs, his lips back on yours again.
“This,” you say between kisses.
He kisses you again, rougher than before and says,
“Tell me to stop,” he says, and his hands cup your cheeks, gazing into your eyes.
You don’t. You can’t. Instead, you pull him closer, your bodies so familiar with each other.
It becomes a pattern after that. Anytime he comes over - whether he’s dropping off Mia or picking her up - it happens.
Sometimes it’s rushed and frantic, like the time he cornered you in the kitchen, your lips colliding as the coffee maker sputtered in the background. And other times, it’s slow and sweet. Especially when he knows you're a bit down or you're having a bad day.
You don’t talk about it. It’s easier to pretend this is just an outlet, a way to scratch the itch that never seems to fade.
You tell yourself this is only because he's the only man you've been with for so damn long. You two had married so young. You hate thinking about it.
So you don't. But deep down, you know it’s more than just sex. But you’re not ready to acknowledge it. Neither is he.
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Friday evenings with Minho are sacred. He's your best friend, your big brother, your pillar of support. The one person who held you up during your separation from Chris. The only person who knows that you still loved him with everything in you.
Minho brings take out, you both talk, watch a movie, sometimes two. And fall asleep on each other because obviously, you both were the laziest besties in the world.
You've been trying to tell Chris to leave, but he is busy pounding into you. You stand with your hands grips the kitchen counter as he thrust into you from the back, his hands holding onto your hips tightly.
“He's gonna be here any minute!” You hiss, and Chris moves faster, and more rough. You try not to moan as waves of pleasure hit you, and you clench so hard around him, he's shuddering with his release.
“Fuck-” He groans, pressing his face against the back of your neck before slowly pulling out of you.
You both clean up and look somewhat presentable when the doorbell rings. You sigh because Minho will see right through you.
And he won't let you live this down. Ever.
You glance at Chris before opening the door. And Minho steps in already ranting about his day and he stops in his tracks when his eyes land on Chris.
Well that's a first - Minho being at a loss of words.
You freeze, your cheeks burning, while Chris awkwardly shoves his hands in his pockets.
“Hi, Minho,” Chris says, giving him a quick nod.
Minho doesn’t answer immediately. Instead, he looks between the two of you, his lips twitching in amusement, before slowly smirking.
“Hey, Chris.” Then, he strolls further inside saying, “Don’t mind me. I'm just here for my niece.”
He disappears into the living room, leaving you and Chris standing there like a couple of teenagers caught doing something bad.
“I should, uh, get going,” he says, though he doesn’t move.
“Right, yeah,” you stammer, smoothing your hands over your skirt nervously.
“See you on Sunday,” he says, opening the door.
“See you,” you manage, your heart racing again, and Chris flashes you a smile before leaving.
The moment the door shuts, Minho reappears, a wicked grin plastered across his face.
“Soooo…”
“Don’t start.”
“Oh, I’m starting,” he says, leaning against the wall, arms crossed. “You’re clearly fucking Chris freaking Bang and you want me to not start?”
“Minho,” you warn, making a beeline for the living room, and he follows you with that menacing grin still in place.
“So, when exactly did this ‘we’re just co-parents’ arrangement turn into ‘we’re fuck buddies again’?”
“It’s not like that!” you protest, though your face feels like it’s on fire.
“Uh-huh.” He says, starting to plate up the food. “You two were totally not flushed and guilty. Try again.”
You bury your face in a throw pillow.
“Linooooo stopppp!! It’s complicated.” you whine.
“It always is with you two,” he says, rolling his eyes. “You’re like Ross and Rachel, except somehow more frustrating.”
You peek out from behind the pillow, glaring at him.
“We’re not -”
“Don’t even think about saying you’re not into him,” Minho interrupts, pointing his chopsticks at you. “I know you, Y/N.”
You open your mouth to argue but immediately close it, because he's stating the obvious and there is no real use of denying it.
“I’m just saying, if you’re going to jump your ex-husband, at least warn me so I can avoid walking into it.” Minho smirks, leaning back smugly.
You groan, throwing the pillow at him. He dodges it easily, laughing as you sink further into the couch, hands covering your face.
“Seriously, though,” he says after a moment, his tone softening. “Are you okay? I mean, this whole Chris thing… are you sure about this?”
You sigh, staring up at the ceiling.
“I don’t know. I love him, Minho, and I swear I tried to move on…but, everytime I look at him…he's the same person I fell in love with. He's not a monster. He's a great father. He's a good friend. And.. and I don't even know why…” Your voice cracks a bit as you struggle with your thoughts. “Then we talked, and it’s like… like nothing’s changed. But everything has changed, and it’s so… messy.”
“Messy’s okay. You deserve to be happy, Y/N. Whether that’s with Chris or someone else.” he says softly. “If you're sure, then go for it.”
His words hang in the air, and for a moment, you let yourself imagine what it would be like to be honest with Chris. To let go of the pride and the fear and just… try again. Because God, you really want to.
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Sunday arrives, and Mia is up early, ready for her day with her daddy. She even picks out her favorite toy to take along with her and insists on wearing the sparkly dress she knows Chris loves.
When Chris texts, you think it's to let you know that he's on his way. But it wasn't.
Chris: Hey, something came up. Can we reschedule Mia’s time for today?
You blink at it for a moment, heart sinking slightly. You don’t question it - life happens, after all. But Mia doesn’t take it as well.
“Daddy’s not coming?” she asks, her lower lip trembling and her little shoulders slump in disappointment.
You kneel down, brushing a stray lock of hair from her forehead.
“No, sweetheart. He’s just busy today, but we’ll see him soon. How about we have a girls' day instead?”
She looks up at you with big tear filled eyes.
“Girls' day? With Mommy?” she asks, and you nod, pulling her into a tight hug.
“That’s right. Just you and me. Let’s make it special.” You say, kissing her cheek and getting on with it.
You spend the afternoon indulging in ice cream, shopping for new art supplies, and of course, toys. You also take her to an indoor play area that she loves, and by the time you get home, Mia is falling asleep in your arms.
You carry her to her room, tuck her into bed, and she’s out within minutes. Pressing a soft kiss to her forehead, you step out of her room.
The apartment falls into a quiet, peaceful lull. You wash up quickly and sit in front of the TV, hoping to watch an episode of that show you've been trying to watch for a while now. It's not exactly easy with a toddler around.
But around fifteen minutes into the show, you hear the sound of the doorbell. You open the door, and there stands Chris, holding a small box in his hand.
“Hey,” he says, his voice low, as he meets your gaze. “I'm sorry about today. I brought her favorite cupcakes.”
Your heart does a little flip at the sight of him.
“That’s sweet of you.” you say, “But she's already asleep.”
“Oh…I was hoping to see her before....ah,” Chris says with a little sigh.
You give him a small, sympathetic shrug.
“It's okay, she can eat them tomorrow,” You say with a smile and step aside to let him in.
He nods, stepping inside and setting the box of cupcakes on the kitchen counter. There’s disappointment in his eyes and it stirs something deep inside you.
“I’m really sorry, Y/N,” he says, and it feels like he’s apologizing for more than just missing his day with Mia.
“It’s really okay. Mia missed you, but we still had a good day. She was really happy.” you tell him.
Chris’s gaze lingers on you a moment too long before he says,“I feel like I keep letting you both down.”
“Chris, please don't say that,” you reply, giving him a small smile. “We know you’re doing your best. I know you’re trying.”
He nods, though he doesn't look completely convinced.
“So,” you say, trying to keep it light, “I’m about to have dinner… want to join me?”
It’s an innocent enough invitation. Casual. Polite. But the way he looks at you gives you an idea of what's about to happen next.
Chris takes a step forward, his hand gently cupping your cheek, and then his lips are on yours. The kiss deepens almost instantly and he pulls you closer, your bodies pressed together.
You stifle a sob, and Chris is quickly pulling back to look at you, tipping your chin up to see you better.
“Baby, please don't-”
“I love you-”
There is a moment of silence - Chris's eyes soften as he watches the tears fall. You can't believe you just said that. But this whole thing was getting more and more difficult to manage. The constant need to be close to him. Waiting for the days he spent with Mia, just so you could see him.
And then he's kissing you again, mumbling a hundred ‘I love yous’ you against your lips, and the next thing you know, he's scooping you up in his arms and carrying you towards your bedroom.
He closes the door gently (so that it doesn't wake Mia), and places you on the edge of the bed, kneeling down in front of you on the floor.
“Baby, I never stopped loving you. And there isn't a day where I don't regret letting you walk out of my life… we could've handled things better…and everytime I came here for Mia, I wished you would just ask me to stay. I selfishly wished that you wouldn't move on.” he says, his voice soft and his touch even softer as he placed his hands on your knees.
“I don't think I can ever love anyone like I love you. If you give me another chance, I promise I'll not let you down. I'll spend every day of the rest of my life proving to you that you're my everything… and I will be here for you, always.”
You nod and tears falling more rapidly now, and throw your arms around Chris's neck, and he wraps his arms around your waist, his face pressing against your neck as he holds you close.
“I love you, baby I'm sorry-” You cry, your arms tightening around him. “I didn't know what to do…the baby, the job, there was so much noise, and I wasn't well…I'm sorry I didn't see that you were suffering too-” you hiccup through your tears.
You feel his hand moving up and down your back in an attempt to comfort you.
“I know baby, I'm not mad. We were both suffering. We were both hurt. But we're here now.” Chris whispers.
“I love you, I want you back. Please don't leave me again-”
Chris kisses you again, stealing your breath away.
“No more crying over me ok?” He says with a soft smile. “I'm not going anywhere…I love you and Mia so much, I am going to be here-”
More kisses follow and you move back into the bed, and he follows, both of you pulling at each other's clothes.
He trails his lips down your neck, and it feels like the world outside your bedroom might as well not exist. His hands glide over your skin, gentle, but just as desperate.
You can feel the way he trembles against you, the way his breath catches as your hands move down his chest. And then when he slips inside, as gentle as ever, you can't help but cry, because as beautiful as the moment feels, you realize just how miserable you have been without him.
Chris moves slowly at first, and you close your eyes as the pleasure builds. He peppers so many kisses on your lips and neck, like he can't kiss you enough.
His fingers work on your clit as he moves, and soon your body shudders as your orgasm ripples through you. You moan softly, and it obviously has him crashing down too.
You don't let go, because truth be told, you're afraid he's going to leave. And tonight? You don't want him to. Actually, you don't want to see him walk out that door ever again.
And Chris isn't planning to, because he holds you just as tight, promising softly that he'll be here when you wake up in the morning. And you let your eyes fall shut, trusting him.
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You both decide to take it slow, for Mia's sake.
Chris doesn’t officially move in, yet, but his presence is…undeniable. There are more of his things around the house, and more than anything else, it's the way Mia’s laughter grows louder every time he walks through the door. You’ve caught yourself smiling more too - wide, genuine smiles you hadn’t worn in ages.
You love watching him help Mia with her bedtime routine, fixing squeaky hinges around the house you’ve ignored for months, and finding every excuse to stay a bit longer.
And Minho? Well, he’s having the time of his life.
---
One Friday evening, you’re all gathered in the living room. Chris is helping Mia build a tower with her blocks while you sip wine and half-listen to Minho’s dramatic story about his latest “date gone wrong.”
“And then she said she didn’t like cats. Cats, Y/N. Can you imagine the nerve?” Minho says, gesturing wildly with his chopsticks as he digs into the takeout he insisted on bringing.
“Oh my God” you say, laughing as Chris adds, “Sounds horrible, but maybe try not to bring home every stray you find?”
“Don’t think I don’t see you trying to steal my best friend away. Again.” Minho narrows his eyes, pointing at Chris.
“Jealous, Minho?” Chris quips, and Minho scoffs, leaning back dramatically.
“Of you? Please.” Minho says. “But whatever this setup is, it's sure looks promising.”
You freeze mid-sip of your wine, while Chris raises an eyebrow.
“And what’s that supposed to mean?” you ask.
“I’m just saying, for exes, you two sure look cozy.” Minho grins, and your cheeks burn, as you try not to look at Chris.
“Minho…” you warn.
“Don’t worry, Y/N. I’m rooting for you,” Minho says, winking before turning back to Mia. “Besides, if it doesn’t work out, I’ll adopt Mia. Because you two are idiots. And we're done dealing with you. Sorry, not sorry.”
Mia giggles at the mention of her name before getting back to her game.
---
Later that night, after Minho has left (eyeing you mischievously because Chris was still there) and Mia is asleep, you and Chris are clearing up the kitchen.
“You know,” he says, his voice low, “Minho isn’t wrong.”
“About what?” You ask, glancing at him, wiping your hands on a dish towel.
“About us. About this.” Chris says, leaning against the counter and folding his arms.
Your heart skips a beat as you gaze at him, watching him push off the counter and walk towards you.
The towel slips from your hands as his fingers brush against your cheek, and his lips land on yours.
It’s slow at first, warm and tender, but it doesn’t take long for it to snap and you're both pulling each other closer. Your fingers tangle in his hair, your body responding to his touch like it always has.
He pauses, his forehead resting against yours as you both catch your breath.
“I love you,” he says, pressing a soft kiss on the tip of your nose.
“I love you too,” you admit, and he smiles, his dimples making an appearance and your heart races as you reach up to run your fingers over it.
He kisses you again, slower this time, like he’s savoring every second of it. And at that moment, this doesn't really feel like a second chance.
It’s the beginning of everything you’ve ever wanted.
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The smell of pancakes fills the house as sunlight filters through the kitchen windows. Chris stands at the stove, a spatula in one hand, flipping golden-brown pancakes onto a plate. He’s wearing his usual gray shorts and a fitted black T-shirt. His hair is messy, a sign that he’s only been up for about twenty minutes, and he’s humming softly to himself as he works.
Mia sits at the table, still in her pajamas, happily coloring into a giant coloring book. This is such a dream. You lean against the counter, sipping your coffee, watching Chris with a faint smile that you haven’t been able to shake since he stayed over last night.
For the first time… in a very long time.
And then, the doorbell rings. You frown, setting down your coffee.
“Expecting someone?” He asks and you shake your head, walking to the door and opening it to find your mum standing there, a purse slung over her shoulder and a smile on her face.
“Mum?” you say, blinking in surprise.
“Surprise, sweetheart!” she says, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation. “I was in the neighborhood and thought I’d stop by. Wanted to see my girls, and I brought muffins!”
She holds up a bakery bag, grinning, then stops dead in her tracks.
Her gaze falls on Chris, who’s just turned around from the stove, spatula still in hand, his expression frozen like a deer caught in headlights.
“Oh,” your mom says.
There's silence for a second before Mia screeches, “Grandmaaaaaaaa!!!”
Your mum picks Mia up, pressing a kiss to her cheek before asking if she could play in her room for sometime. Mia pouts, but runs off with a muffin.
Her eyes narrow slightly, taking in how casual Chris looks, his messy hair, and the way he just seems to be part of the scene.
“Good morning, mum,” Chris says smoothly, recovering faster than you could've thought.
He smiles, dimples flashing, as he asks, “Pancakes?”
Your mum raises an eyebrow, clearly not buying his innocent act. She folds her arms, looking at you.
“Y/N… what’s going on here?”
“It’s not what it looks like,” you start, suddenly feeling like a child again.
“Mhm.” She gives you a look that says she doesn’t believe you for a second. “You’re telling me it’s normal for your ex-husband to be in your kitchen, making pancakes, looking like he just rolled out of bed?”
“Technically, I did just roll out of bed,” Chris says, unable to resist.
You shoot him a glare, but he has already turned back to the stove, hiding a smirk.
“Y/N?” Your mom’s eyes narrow further.
“It’s… kind of...,” you say finally, rubbing the back of your neck.
“Yes?” she prompts, looking from you to Chris and then back at you. You think she's going to give you a nice big lecture about responsibility. But she lets out a sigh, her posture softening.
“You know,” she says, her tone gentler now, “I always thought the two of you were good for each other. When you got divorced, I was shocked and devastated - for you, for Mia.” She pauses, her eyes locking with yours. “But if you’re giving this another try… I just want to make sure you’re happy, sweetheart. That you’re doing this for the right reasons.”
“I know I messed up before. I know I hurt your daughter. But I love her. I always have, and I’m doing everything I can to show her - and Mia - that I’m here to stay. I realize that I need them more than they need me…so yeah,”
Your mum’s gaze softens as she studies him, and then she looks at you.
“And you, Y/N? Are you happy?”
You glance at Chris, who’s watching you with that steady loving gaze that’s always made you feel safe and sure, and you nod.
“Yeah, Mum. I am.”
Your mom smiles, stepping forward to press a kiss to your cheek.
“Well, then. I suppose I’ll have to stick around for breakfast. Those pancakes smell amazing.”
Chris grins and gets back to work, and your mum nods, making her way in to properly greet her granddaughter again.
Just as she disappears, Chris slides up beside you, his hand brushing yours as you start setting the table for breakfast.
“That went better than expected,” he murmurs, his voice low.
“You’ve always been her favorite, you know.” You glance at him, your lips twitching into a smile.
He smirks, leaning in just enough to make your heart skip a beat.
“Good to know I still am.” He pecks your lips quickly before getting back to work.
You roll your eyes, but your smile lingers as your mum comes back with Mia in her arms. And you all sit around the table and enjoy breakfast.
It’s chaotic and imperfect, but it's home. And for the first time in a long time, you feel like everything is exactly where it’s meant to be. All the scattered pieces of you finally fit.
Divider by @saradika-graphics
Tags: @moonchild9350 @velvetmoonlght @eastjonowhere @pixie-felix @sailor--sun @satosugu4l
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gossamyrrh · 5 days ago
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part two to this ! fem!reader. intox. coercion.
the next time you meet plug!geto, it’s at his flat two weeks later with a dreadfully low stash and an achingly empty cunt. he, of course, is more than happy to fill both free of charge.
…of money, that is.
plug!geto opens the door with a mischievous grin, leans lazily against the doorframe and crosses his arms as his eyes rake over your body. shamelessly lingering on your more…intimate areas.
“nice seein’ you again.” he purrs, lips curling like the wisps of smoke that waft up into the air behind him. “you haven’t been answerin’ my texts.”
“been busy.” you mumble, which isn’t exactly a lie. you have been busy—trying not to wallow in the shame that comes from cumming around your dealer’s fingers…getting off to him calling you a slut and a whore. dreaming for it to happening again and again and again and—
“yeah? thought you were ignorin’ me.”
“n-no.” you stutter, meeting his eyes for the first time tonight. they glint with something predatory. like he’s playing with you. pawing at his meal before he pounces. “i’d never do that.”
another lie.
suguru leans up off the frame now. turns his body to the side and gestures with his chin for you to slip past. “good. c’mon in, doll. since you’re so… busy and all.”
his large hand snakes down and settles on the small of your back. and before you can even think to resist him—give this all a second thought—suguru is shoving you through the threshold and slamming the door closed. leads you to the sofa, with his warm hand still tight around you.
and you can’t help but feel like he’s closing in.
you can smell him in the air, that unique, signature scent of him: smoke, spice—something musky. his palms glide with an indescribable possessiveness along your waist and down your hips as he nudges you to sit. his breath hot along your cheek as he leaves little room between you both. makes himself comfortable in the dips and arches of you; meshes his skin to yours.
your head begins to spin.
and he notices this. of course, he does.
plug!geto’s grin is all teeth now. wolfish. amused as he leans closer, forces your thighs to squeeze together. your shoulders to curl.
“you nervous, doll?”
“no.” you lie. but it comes out too quickly. lands flat.
“mm.” suguru hums, unconvinced, and a heavy hand smooths over your shoulder. drags down your arm. “you sure? you’re practically shakin’.”
your breath catches. you hadn’t event realised…
he laughs at that. and it comes low. rumbles. his free arm reaches forward for something, and it’s then you notice the pre-rolled joint on the coffee table. just how deep in your head are you?
“let’s take the edge off yeah? help you forget that busy life of yours.”
suguru brings the joint to his lips, fishes a lighter from his trouser pocket, and you watch as the tiny flame licks at the tip. makes the paper crackle and shrivel as it burns, glowing a fiery red as he takes a slow, deliberate pull.
“b-but there’s only one.” you squeak.
a deep exhale, and suguru’s eyes are on you. his grin never faltering. “what? you gotta problem with sharin’?”
he offers it to you.
“c’mon, doll. you’ll be less uptight.”
you hesitate, and suguru’s grin stretches. miles long, you think, if even that.
“c’mon, doll,” he coaxes again, tapping the joint against your lips, the lingering heat of it a near ghostly kiss. “don’t tell me you came all this way just to get shy on me.”
the worst part? he’s right. you did come a long way. tried to steel your nerves for almost an hour, paced outside his building as you debated whether you should go home or not.
(you should’ve. you really should’ve.)
it shouldn’t all be for nothing. you shouldn’t waste both your time, right…?
before you can think, your mouth parts, eases open just for him. the filter presses against your lips, tasting of ash and something unmistakably suguru, and you inhale, slow and tentative, the burn blooming in your lungs before settling deep within your bones.
it feels good—too good. makes you feel nothing yet everything in some….indescribable sort of way.
“atta girl,” suguru murmurs, watching you through heavy lids. his voice drips with something rich, thick and syrupy. he plucks the joint from your fingers to take another long drag before he blows the smoke right into your face.
you barely register the sharp pull of his hand on your jaw until your head tilts back, your body pliant under his touch. his fingers press, firm and possessive, as he exhales into your mouth. the smoke curls past your lips, seeps into your lungs. hot. overwhelming.
your mind fogs.
he watches as you swallow it down, amusement flickering in his dark eyes. “there you go,” he soothes, thumb stroking the hollow of your throat. “you always take what i give you so well, don’t you?”
the room tilts. or maybe it’s just you.
you blink, slow and heavy, warmth pooling in your limbs as a lazy kind of heat starts to spread through you. it’s the weed, but it’s also him—the way he looms, the way his touch lingers, the way his words slither beneath your skin like a secondhand high.
“feelin’ good, doll?”
you nod, dazed. “y-yeah.”
suguru chuckles. “that’s what i like to hear.”
his hand begins to drift lower. off your arm now, skimming your thigh, fingers teasing the hem of your skirt. testing.
and you—hazy, pliant, needy—don’t stop him.
he notices. of course, he does.
and he gets ready to take his payment.
“come up here, doll. it’ll make it easier to sure the weed.”
the weed….sure.
but when he tugs you forward, you go without question.
suguru guides you onto his lap with ease, like he’s done it before—like you slot against him like some missing puzzle piece, fitting perfectly wrapped around him.
his hands find your hips as if on instinct. thumbs stroking slow, soothing circles—but there’s nothing soothing about the way his grip tightens. keeps you right where he wants you.
“good girl,” he murmurs, low and approving. “knew you’d listen.”
your thighs spread to straddle him, knees pressing into the sofa, and the position is… compromising. intimate . his body heat sinks into yours, the thick scent of weed and something musky filling your lungs.
your head spins.
he holds the joint between his fingers, tapping the ashes into the tray beside him, before bringing it back to his lips for another deep inhale. his gaze stays on you the whole time—watching, assessing, waiting.
you swallow. thickly.
his free hand slides up your spine, slow and deliberate, stopping just beneath the nape of your neck. he tilts his head, eyes brimming with want, lips curved into something that’s not quite a smirk, not quite a smile.
“open.”
you hesitate for just a second too long.
his grip tightens.
“c’mon, doll,” he coos, a stone-like hardness to his tone that has you straightening atop him. “you were so eager before. don’t go gettin’ shy on me now.”
heat prickles across your skin, shame curling low in your stomach, because he’s right. you shouldn’t want this, shouldn’t crave it, but you do—you really fucking do.
so you part your lips, obedient—good—and his smirk widens.
“there’s a good girl.”
he exhales slow, measured, a thick cloud of smoke curling from his lips and past yours. it’s hot, intoxicating, thick enough to make your lashes flutter and a soft groan to escape you. his fingers flex against your nape as he watches you swallow it down, approval humming deep in his chest.
“see?” he murmurs, thumb stroking lazily along your throat. “ain’t so bad, huh?”
you nod, dazed, the warmth pooling low in your belly now sinking deeper.
his other hand—still heavy on your hip—skims beneath the hem of your skirt, fingers toying with the band of your panties. testing. asking (but not really).
and you don’t stop him.
“fuck,” he mutters, mostly to himself. “knew you’d be easy for me. feelin’ good, doll?”
his fingers dip lower, teasing against your damp heat, running along your folds—and you shudder. the weed has settled deep, makes every touch feel heightened—like sparks licking across your skin. needles pricking.
“i feel—” you let out a whimper. “fine.”
suguru grins. all slow satisfaction, like he’s won something. like he’s known all along how this would go.
“that’s what I like to hear.”
and then his fingers push past the fabric, finding you soaked.
a deep, pleased groan rumbles in his throat as he presses in, spreading you open, testing just how ready you are. how needy you are.
“shit, doll,” he murmurs, dragging his fingers through the slick. “you this fuckin’ wet just from smokin’ with me?”
your face burns, and he chuckles.
“hey, don’t get shy now,” he purrs. “not when you’re so fuckin’ eager to let me take what’s mine.”
suguru’s fingers tease at your entrance, just barely pressing in before retreating, dragging slick warmth over your folds. he’s toying with you. that much is clear. drawing out every little tremble, every tiny catch of breath, watching you unravel bit by bit.
“fuuuuck, doll,” he groans. “you’re practically drippin’. makin’ a mess all in my lap.”
shame pools low in your stomach. and you lift your hips to move, but suguru is gripping your hips and pulling you back down.
“don’t.” his grin widens as his fingers leave you, moving to grip your other hip instead.
“c’mere.”
you barely have time to register it before he’s shifting beneath you, pressing you down against the thick hardness straining against his sweatpants. a choked sound catches in your throat as the pressure sparks through you, heat curling sharp and insistent between your thighs.
suguru groans, low and drawn out, fingers tightening as he pulls you even closer. “fuck,” he mutters. “you feel that, doll?”
you do. god, you do.
your breath stutters as he rolls his hips up, slow, deliberate, letting you feel every inch of him through the thin fabric separating. it’s too much, yet somehow not enough.
and he knows it.
“that’s it,” he coaxes, his voice smooth and syrupy, thick with approval. “go on, baby. give me what i need.”
it’s humiliating how easily you give in. how naturally your body moves with his, grinding down, chasing the friction that makes your head spin. every slow drag of his cock against your clothed cunt sends another shiver rolling through you, pleasure licking up your spine, twisting tight in your gut.
suguru watches, heavy-lidded and satisfied, drinking in the way you melt against him. “fuckin’ knew it,” he mutters, mostly to himself, dragging his hands up your back. “knew you’d be like this for me.”
“w-what does that mean?”
“delicious.” he coos, thrusting his pelvis up to meet yours.
your hands find his shoulders, gripping tight, needing something to ground you as he keeps moving, keeps working you over the thick length of him, rolling his hips just right, just enough to make your thighs tremble. your cunt weep.
“you like that, doll?” his voice is teasing now, a purr in your ear. “ridin’ me like you’ve been thinkin’ about it since last time?”
a whimper slips past your lips before you can stop it.
suguru grins, pleased. “yeah? you gonna cum just like this? just from dry humpin’ me like a needy little thing?”
the worst part is that you might.
and he knows this. knows you.
he can feel it—the way your body tenses, the way your breath catches, the way your hips stutter like you’re on the edge of something devastating.
you lose your strength and fall into his chest, panting and moaning in his ear as your hips rock back and forth into him.
“c’mon, doll,” he murmurs, voice smooth, coaxing. “be good for me. let me feel you.”
and just like that, you break.
pleasure crashes over you in slow, shuddering waves, a choked moan spilling from your lips as your body clenches, thighs trembling around him. the friction, the heat, the intoxicating push and pull—it all swallows you whole.
suguru groans, grinding up against you one last time, dragging out your pleasure as his hands stroke slow, soothing patterns down your back.
“f-fuck,” he mutters, breathless, lips brushing your temple. “knew you’d be perfect for me.”
you can’t even respond. can’t do anything but collapse against him, skin fever-hot, body weak. the high lingers thick in your veins, pleasure still buzzing beneath your skin. high and blissed out.
suguru chuckles, lazy and satisfied, fingers trailing along your spine as he helps rock you against him slowly. “make sure you answer my texts next time, pretty girl.”
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moonlightwritingf1 · 4 days ago
Text
Prove Me Wrong | LN4
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࣪ ִֶָ☾. summary ━━━━━━━ Y/N and Lando have always hated each other—forced into the same social circle, their rivalry fueled by clashing personalities and constant bickering. But when a heated debate about men and female pleasure turns into a challenge, neither of them backs down. What starts as an argument quickly spirals into something far more dangerous, and before she knows it, Lando is proving her wrong in the filthiest way possible.
࣪ ִֶָ☾. pairing ━━━━━━━ Lando Norris x she!reader
࣪ ִֶָ☾. word count ━━━━━━━ 7k
࣪ ִֶָ☾. warnings ━━━━━━━ +18, sexual content, p in v, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, multiple orgasms, edging, teasing, spanking
Based on this request.
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The room hummed with low chatter and the clink of half-empty glasses as the evening wore on. It was late, and the group gathered in Max and Pietra’s cozy London flat had grown comfortably loose-limbed from hours of wine and laughter. Y/N, leaning back on the sofa, watched with a slight smile as Max and Pietra snuggled up on the couch across from her, whispering conspiratorial little things to each other. On her left, a few of Pietra’s friends were debating some trivial pop-culture moment—something about a celebrity’s latest scandal.
Meanwhile, across the coffee table, Lando lounged in an armchair, having just returned from the kitchen with another beer. His gaze slid toward Y/N, and she felt a familiar spark of irritation before she deliberately looked away. They might have been forced into the same social circle due to Max and Pietra, but she and Lando never passed up an opportunity to clash. He was an adrenaline-chasing Formula 1 star, living for speed and bright lights; she was a quiet professional with a nine-to-five, living comfortably in London. Their personalities repelled each other like misaligned magnets.
Eventually, the conversation drifted into flirtations and confessions—someone playfully mentioned the difference between men’s and women’s libidos, and soon half the room was alive with cheeky teasing. Pietra, always unfiltered once a little alcohol coursed through her veins, giggled and asked if anyone had advice for “improving bedroom enthusiasm.” That was enough of a spark to prompt a wave of anecdotes, jokes, and half-serious stories.
Lando snorted. “Oh, come on, we’re all adults here, right? Are we really giving each other sex tips?” he teased, draping an arm across the back of his chair and shooting a grin at Max. Max just laughed and rolled his eyes.
It wasn’t until Y/N felt a sharp elbow from one of Pietra’s friends that she realized they were all looking to her for an opinion—some last word on the subject. She suddenly found herself the center of attention, but she was neither flustered nor shy in that moment. Possibly thanks to the wine, she felt her usual nerves loosen.
“You know what?” she said, sitting forward and catching everyone’s eye. “I think most men don’t really care about female pleasure. Maybe it’s unintentional, but in my experience, they’re just…satisfied when they’re done and forget about their partner. Not all men,” she added quickly, shrugging. “But it sure feels that way most of the time.”
That simple remark seemed to light a fuse. A chorus of opinions erupted—some people agreed vigorously, others jumped in to defend themselves or their partners. But Lando’s eyebrow rose in particular. He set down his beer bottle with a soft clink against the table.
“Really?” he said slowly, his tone half disbelieving, half challenging. “So you’ve just…never found a man who cares? That’s a bold assumption for about half the population.”
Y/N’s expression hardened. She felt the annoyance rising up, fueled by a hidden tension that always sparked around him. “It’s not an assumption,” she retorted, chin lifting. “It's a personal experience. I never said it’s a hundred percent true for every man on the planet, but don’t pretend it doesn’t happen. A lot.”
A flash of something like irritation—or was it amusement?—crossed Lando’s face. His grin was tight, less playful than usual. “So that’s it, huh?” he remarked. “One or two guys drop the ball, and you write off all men?” He shook his head. “That’s just lazy.”
Across the small living room, Pietra and Max exchanged wary glances. They knew it was usually best to let Y/N and Lando hash out their disagreements on their own—but everyone else around them had gone noticeably quiet. The tension in the air was suddenly thick and electric.
Y/N crossed her arms. “I’m not writing anyone off,” she countered, her voice low but unwavering. “I’m just stating a fact from my perspective. It’s been bad enough times that I no longer expect anything else.”
They locked eyes for a moment, and it felt like a silent battle of wills: he refused to look away, and she refused to back down. Then someone changed the subject, and the conversation took a slight turn. But there was no mistaking the fire in their words.
Later that night, when the others had begun to drift off to separate rooms or hail taxis home, Y/N slipped away from the group, heading to the little balcony that overlooked the quiet London streets. She needed a moment to breathe. The evening air was cool, and the wine had warmed her cheeks uncomfortably, leaving her with a restless feeling in her chest.
She didn’t realize Lando had followed her until she heard the sliding door open. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw his silhouette slip onto the balcony. He closed the door behind him with a soft click, effectively shutting out the noise from inside.
She sighed. “What do you want, Lando?”
He set his beer aside on the small balcony table. “We’re obviously not each other’s favorite people,” he began, leaning against the railing. “But that comment you made—about men not caring? It’s nagging at me.”
She let out a humorless laugh. “Why do you care what I think? Unless it bruises your ego?” she said pointedly.
“It’s not my ego,” he shot back. “I just—look, you can’t throw a statement like that around and not expect someone to disagree. I don’t care about your personal experiences. But it’s pretty…narrow-minded to assume that you know how all men operate.”
She turned to face him fully. Her voice was sharp. “I’m not talking about all men. And it’s not narrow-minded to notice patterns. My experiences are real and valid.”
He took a measured breath, exhaling in frustration. “I never said they weren’t. I’m just saying, maybe you’ve been with the wrong guys.” His eyes flicked over her face, searching. “You and I don’t get along, sure. But your assumption that men are selfish in bed—I can’t let that slide.”
Something in his tone—low, determined—sent a shiver through her. She was keenly aware of the space between them, which felt suddenly charged. “Why?” she asked, crossing her arms protectively. “You want to prove me wrong or something?”
His gaze flickered downward, then back up to her eyes. “Maybe I do,” he said quietly, almost a murmur, but there was unmistakable steel in his words.
She felt her pulse kick up. Part of her wanted to argue, to snap at him for his arrogance. The other part was startled by a heat that coiled in her lower belly, spurred by the air of challenge in his stance. “You’re ridiculous,” she said, though her voice sounded unsteady, even to her own ears.
He took a step closer, enough that she caught the clean scent of his cologne mixed with the faint bitterness of beer. “Maybe,” he acknowledged, “but you keep telling me you’re not just generalizing. That it’s a real pattern. How about letting someone show you otherwise?”
She blinked, her throat tight. “You think you’re that someone?”
He didn’t step back. “I know I’m that someone.”
There it was: confidence hovering on the edge of cockiness, and the friction between them flared. She wanted to deny him just to see that smirk wiped off his face. But a spark of defiance coursed through her, and it was intimately bound with desire. She hated him—his smugness, his brashness. Yet the way he looked at her left her trembling in a way she couldn’t ignore.
Her response slipped out before she could stop herself: “Prove it.”
No one else was awake to notice the two of them slipping out of Max and Pietra’s flat. Y/N and Lando didn’t bother with lengthy goodbyes—both of them, though they’d never admit it aloud, wanted to keep this a secret from their friends for as long as possible.
Lando had insisted they go somewhere private, his voice low and insistent. “You won’t be able to keep quiet, and I don’t want Max and Pietra to know what’s going on,” he’d said, his tone leaving no room for argument. She’d rolled her eyes, but deep down, she couldn’t deny the thrill that shot through her at the thought.
Because what he wanted from her, and what she was half-daring him to deliver, simply wasn’t going to be quiet.
The next thing she knew, they were in a taxi headed to her apartment, the silence between them heavy with unspoken tension.
They hailed a late-night cab in tense silence, barely looking at each other though the air between them bristled with anticipation. The moment they reached her building, they were out of the taxi and up the stairs without a word, their hearts pounding in unison. Y/N fumbled with her keys, and it felt like an eternity before the lock finally turned. The instant the door swung open, Lando pressed his palm against it to shove it closed behind them.
Inside the small entrance hall, the hush was broken by the sound of their ragged breaths. She stood there, watching him, her nerves blazing with adrenaline. The light overhead was dim, and her senses seemed hyper-focused on the way his chest rose and fell. When he moved toward her, she braced for that first touch as though it might knock the wind out of her.
“I’m giving you one chance,” he said, his voice low, threaded with challenge. “If you’ve changed your mind, say it now.”
Her lips twitched, torn between a retort and a refusal to speak. Instead, she shook her head—a small, certain motion. He closed the space between them in a single step, and the moment his hand cupped her face, a bolt of electricity shot through her. She grabbed the collar of his shirt, yanking him down for a kiss that started off almost gentle, but quickly dissolved into something filled with need and frustration. They might hate each other in the daylight, but right now, that hatred was fueling a different kind of fire.
They stumbled blindly into the living area, leaving a trail of shoes and jackets behind. At one point, Y/N’s back thumped against a side table, rattling the lamp that sat on it, but she barely noticed. Every nerve in her body zeroed in on Lando’s hands roaming over her—down her waist, up beneath her blouse, across her shoulders. She moaned into his mouth, and he swallowed the sound greedily.
“I don’t want anyone hearing you tonight,” he warned, his breath hitching as he spoke. “Not your neighbors, definitely not our friends.”
Her laugh was breathless, almost taunting. “Then you’d better keep me quiet.”
His eyes flashed with a challenge. “I don’t think so,” he murmured. “I want to hear every sound.”
Somehow, they made it to her bedroom without toppling the furniture. She was the one to flick on the faint bedside lamp; he was the one who slammed the door shut. He looked around at the scattered books, a half-finished glass of water on the nightstand—signs of her normal, everyday life. And here he was, about to disrupt that normalcy for good.
“You can tell me if you want me to stop,” he said, his voice taut with control as he moved in to press her against the edge of the bed.
She met his eyes, her own gaze fevered. Every bit of logic and caution had evaporated the moment they’d brushed their lips in that hallway. “Don’t stop,” she answered, barely more than a whisper.
It was all the invitation he needed. They crashed onto the bed with unrestrained urgency. The softness of the mattress contrasted sharply with the sharpened edge of their mutual hostility. She could taste the remnants of wine on his lips, feel the solid warmth of his body pinning hers. He held her by the wrists at one point, his grip firm but not painful, as if silently reminding her who was in control.
“Told you not every man’s the same,” he muttered, his words a provocative taunt.
She wriggled her wrists free, her own anger igniting. “Shut up,” she hissed, pulling him down again for a fiercer kiss that stoked the embers in her belly. Each movement felt charged: the scrape of his stubble against her neck, the damp press of his lips over her collarbone, the ragged exhalations that mingled in the space between them.
Her mind spun, memories of every argument they’d ever had swirling with the intoxicating reality of his touch. He was surprisingly focused, and though she despised his smugness, she couldn’t deny the jolt of raw pleasure coursing through her. She gripped his arms, nails digging in as a low moan escaped her throat.
“Say it again,” he demanded in a low murmur, his breath hot on her ear. “Say you don’t want me to stop.”
She should have hated giving him the satisfaction, but the words poured out of her like a confession. “Don’t you dare stop.”
He laughed, the sound as dark as it was triumphant. “Good.”
The room was quiet except for the sound of their ragged breaths, the tension between them so thick it felt like it could be cut with a knife. Lando’s hands were already moving, his fingers deftly working the buttons of Y/N’s blouse. She didn’t stop him, didn’t even try to, her body betraying her as she arched into his touch. The fabric fell away, leaving her in just her bra, the cool air of the room brushing against her heated skin.
His gaze dropped, lingering on her chest for a moment before he moved in, his lips finding the curve of her neck. She gasped, her hands gripping his shoulders as he left a trail of open-mouthed kisses along her jawline, down to her collarbone. Each touch was deliberate, teasing, as if he was savoring every inch of her.
“Lando,” she breathed, her voice shaky, but he didn’t respond, too focused on his task. His hands moved to the clasp of her bra, and in one swift motion, it was gone, leaving her completely exposed to him. His eyes darkened as he took her in, his hands roaming over her bare skin, his touch sending shivers down her spine.
“You’re beautiful,” he murmured, his voice low and rough, but there was no mistaking the hunger in his tone. He leaned down, his lips capturing one of her nipples, his tongue flicking over the sensitive peak. She let out a moan, her fingers tangling in his hair as he continued to tease her, his teeth grazing against her skin just enough to make her gasp.
He didn’t stop there, his lips moving down her body, leaving a trail of kisses along her stomach, his hands working to rid her of her jeans and underwear. She kicked them off eagerly, her body trembling with anticipation as he positioned himself between her legs. His hands slid up her thighs, his touch feather-light, and she could feel the heat of his breath against her skin.
“Lando,” she said again, her voice barely above a whisper, but he didn’t answer, his lips brushing against her inner thighs, teasing her until she was squirming beneath him. She could feel the wetness between her legs, her body aching for more, but he was taking his time, savoring every moment.
Finally, he moved in, his breath warm against her most sensitive skin. Without warning, his tongue darted out, flicking against her clit in a precise, teasing stroke that made her gasp sharply, her back arching off the bed. Her hands flew to his head, fingers tangling in his hair, but he didn’t falter. He kept his rhythm slow and deliberate, alternating between soft, lingering licks and sharp, focused flicks that sent jolts of pleasure rippling through her. His hands gripped her hips firmly, pinning her in place as she writhed beneath him, her moans growing louder with each passing second.
“Lando,” she whimpered, her voice trembling with need, but he didn’t respond, his mouth too occupied to speak. His tongue circled her clit, the pressure building with every pass, until she was trembling, her legs shaking uncontrollably. Just when she thought she couldn’t take anymore, he pulled back, leaving her gasping for air, only to sink lower, his tongue sliding deep inside her. She cried out, her body jerking at the sudden intrusion, her fingers tightening in his hair.
He didn’t let up, his tongue thrusting in and out of her rhythmically, while his lips found her clit again, sucking gently at first, then harder, pulling every ounce of sensation from her. She was panting now, her breath coming in short, ragged bursts, her hips bucking against his face as she tried to chase the pleasure he was giving her. “Please,” she begged, her voice breaking, but he only smirked against her skin, his fingers replacing his mouth as he slid two inside her, curling them just the way she needed.
Her body tensed, her thighs clamping around his head as he continued to tease her clit with his tongue, his fingers moving in steady, relentless strokes. The coil inside her tightened, the pressure building to an unbearable peak. She could feel it coming, that wave of raw, consuming pleasure, and she clawed at the sheets, her entire body trembling with anticipation.
“Don’t stop,” she pleaded, her voice barely a whisper, but it was all he needed to push her over the edge. With a final, deliberate stroke of his tongue, she shattered, her moans filling the room as her orgasm crashed over her in dizzying waves. Her body convulsed, her hips jerking uncontrollably as he worked her through it, his mouth and fingers driving her higher and higher until she was utterly spent, collapsing back onto the bed in a trembling heap.
He didn’t stop until she was completely boneless, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath. Only then did he pull back, his smug grin visible even in the dim light of the room. He looked up at her, a smirk playing on his lips. “Still think men don’t care about your pleasure?” he asked, his voice teasing, but there was a hint of something else in his tone—something that made her stomach twist.
She didn’t answer, her mind still foggy from the intensity of her orgasm, but he didn’t seem to mind, moving up her body until he was hovering over her, his eyes locked on hers.
“I’m not done with you yet,” he said, his voice low, and she could feel the heat of his body against hers, his erection pressing against her thigh.
She swallowed hard, her heart racing as she looked up at him, the smirk on his lips sending a shiver down her spine.
She watched, her breath hitching, as Lando stood up long enough to peel off his shirt, revealing the lean, muscular planes of his chest. His jeans followed, sliding down his hips along with his boxers, leaving him as bare as she was. Her gaze locked onto him, her mouth going dry as she took in every inch of his body. His chest rose and fell with each breath, muscles taut and defined, glistening faintly under the dim light. Her eyes trailed lower, and she couldn’t help but notice the way his arousal strained against him, thick and hard, a bead of pre-cum glistening at the tip. She swallowed hard, her mouth watering at the sight, a surge of heat pooling between her thighs. 
He was perfect. Every line, every curve of his body seemed designed to drive her wild. She felt an almost primal urge to touch him, to taste him, to feel him inside her. Her fingers twitched with the need to reach out, but she held back, her breath hitching as she took him in, every detail etched into her mind. 
Lando’s smirk deepened as he caught her staring, his eyes dark with lust. “Like what you see?” he teased, his voice low and rough, sending a shiver down her spine. She didn’t trust herself to speak, her body trembling with anticipation as she nodded weakly, her cheeks flushing with desire. The sight of him, so hard and already leaking for her, was almost too much to bear. She wanted him—needed him—and the intensity of that need left her breathless.
Without a word, he was back on top of her, his lips crashing down on hers in a kiss that was as demanding as it was intoxicating. His hands gripped her hips, lifting her slightly as he positioned himself between her legs, the heat of his body pressing against hers. She could feel the weight of him, the urgency in his movements, and it sent a fresh wave of desire coursing through her.
“Prove it,” she challenged again, her voice trembling but defiant, her eyes locked on his. His smirk was wicked, his breath hot against her lips. “Gladly,” he murmured, his voice low and rough. But before he could claim her mouth once more, she reached over to her bedside table, fumbling for a moment before pulling out a condom.
She pressed it into his hand, her gaze never leaving his. “Put it on,” she said firmly, her voice steady despite the heat coursing through her veins. Lando’s eyes flickered, a mix of surprise and amusement crossing his face, but he didn’t argue. With a slow, deliberate movement, he tore open the wrapper and rolled the condom on, his hands steady despite the tension in the room.
The air between them crackled with anticipation as he leaned back over her, his body hovering inches above hers. “Better?” he teased, his voice laced with a dark amusement that sent a shiver down her spine.
She didn’t respond with words, instead pulling him down into a searing kiss that silenced any further conversation. The tension between them was palpable, a mix of hatred and desire that burned hotter with every passing second. His body pressed against hers, the weight of him igniting a fiery need deep within her. She could feel the thickness of him, hard and ready, and her breath hitched as he positioned himself at her entrance.
“Still think men don’t care?” he muttered against her lips, his voice dripping with challenge and something far more primal.
She didn’t answer. He paused, his body still hovering over hers, his cock pressing against her entrance but not giving her what she craved. Y/N’s breath hitched, her hips instinctively trying to push closer, but he held her still, his hands firm on her waist. “C’mon,” he taunted, his voice low and rough, dragging his fingers along her skin in a way that made her shiver. “Say please. Let’s see if you can manage to be polite for once.”
Her jaw tightened, her pride warring with the desperate need coursing through her. She hated him—hated how he could reduce her to this, trembling and aching beneath him. But the ache in her core was too much to ignore. “…Please,” she muttered, her voice barely above a whisper.
He smirked, his fingers tracing lazy circles on her inner thighs. “That wasn’t very convincing.” He leaned down, his lips brushing against her ear, sending a shiver down her spine. “Try again. Let me hear it like you mean it.”
“Please,” she repeated, her voice louder this time, laced with frustration and need. Her hips bucked involuntarily, but he held her still, his grip unyielding.
“Almost there,” he murmured, his breath hot against her skin. “But I think you can do better than that.”
She groaned, her nails digging into the sheets as she glared at him. “Please, Lando. Just…fuck me.”
His grin widened, dark and triumphant. “That’s better.” Finally, he pushed into her, his cock filling her in one slow, deliberate stroke. The sensation was overwhelming, the way he stretched her, the heat of him pressing against her walls. She gasped, her back arching off the bed as he buried himself fully inside her.
For her, the feeling was like fire and electricity, her body alight with every inch of him. She could feel the throbbing ache of her own need, the wetness that soaked her inner walls, the way her muscles clenched around him, desperate to keep him close. Every thrust sent jolts of pleasure through her, her breath coming in short, ragged gasps as he moved.
For him, her pussy was a tight, wet fist, gripping him with an intensity that made his head spin. The heat of her, the way her walls fluttered and clenched around him, was almost too much to bear. He could feel every pulse, every quiver of her body as he fucked her, and it drove him wild.
“You feel that?” he growled, his lips brushing against her ear as he thrust into her, slow and deep. “That’s me making you forget every other man you’ve ever had.” His voice was low, rough, and filled with a smugness that made her burn with both anger and desire. “You can hate me all you want, but your body doesn’t.”
She whimpered, her nails digging into his back as he continued to fuck her, each stroke deliberate and unhurried. He wasn’t rushing, wasn’t letting her escape the intensity of it. Every inch of him pressed against her, stretching her, filling her, until she was trembling with the need for more.
Just as she felt the coil in her belly tighten, her body hoovering on the edge, he pulled out abruptly, leaving her gasping and empty. Her hips bucked instinctively, trying to chase the sensation, but he held her still, his smirk infuriating. “Not yet,” he murmured, his voice dripping with amusement. “I’m not done with you.”
He positioned himself at her entrance again, pressing against her but not pushing in. She could feel the heat of him, the thickness that teased her, and it was maddening. Her breath caught, her fingers clutching at his arms as she tried to pull him closer. “You look so pretty like this,” he teased, watching the way her body reacted to him, how her chest rose and fell with each ragged breath. “Begging for it. So desperate.”
“Lando…” she whispered, her voice trembling, her body trembling. “Please…”
Finally, he pushed into her again, this time achingly slow, inch by inch, making her feel every stretch, every bit of him filling her. She gasped, her back arching as he bottomed out, his hips flush against hers. “That’s it,” he whispered, his hand gripping her jaw, forcing her to look into his eyes. “Don’t look away. I want you to see who’s making you feel this good.”
His pace was relentless, his thrusts hard and deep, each one driving her closer to the edge. Her moans filled the room, and every time she let out a sound, he kissed her, his lips capturing hers in messy, desperate kisses that swallowed every gasp, every whimper.
“This what you wanted?” he muttered against her lips, his voice low and teasing. “You begged for it, remember?” His hands moved to her wrists, pinning them down beside her head as he fucked her harder, his body pressing her into the mattress. “Look at you. So fucking pretty when you take me like this.”
When she whimpered from how deep he already was, he just lifted her thighs higher, pushing her knees toward her chest. The new angle made her cry out, her body jerking as he sank even deeper inside her. “Yeah?” he grinned, his thrusts growing more intense. “I thought so.”
Her body tensed, the coil in her belly snapping as she came, her pussy clenching around him in waves of pleasure. For her, it was like being consumed by fire, her entire body shaking as the orgasm ripped through her.
The sensation was overwhelming, her pussy clenching around him in rhythmic pulses, each one sending jolts of electricity through her. It was as if her entire being was consumed by a white-hot heat, the pleasure radiating from her core and spreading through her limbs, leaving her trembling in its wake.
For Lando, the feeling was intoxicating. Her pussy contracted around his cock in a series of tight, gripping waves, each one pulling a groan from deep within him. The heat of her was almost too much, her inner walls fluttering and pulsing against him in a way that made his head spin. It was as if she was milking him, drawing every ounce of sensation from his throbbing length, and it took every ounce of his self-control to keep from spilling right then and there.
She could feel the thickness of his cock, the way it filled her completely, pressing against every sensitive spot inside her. The sensation was both delicious and overwhelming, the friction sending shivers of pleasure through her body. Her nails dug into his back, her hips bucking against him as she rode out the waves of her orgasm, her breath coming in short, ragged gasps.
“Fuck,” Lando groaned, his voice rough with need. “You feel so good.” His hips snapped forward, driving himself deeper into her, the sensation sending another wave of pleasure through her already sensitive body. “That’s it, beautiful. Let me feel you.”
She whimpered, her body still trembling from the intensity of her climax, but he didn’t stop. Instead, he began to move again, his thrusts slow and deliberate, each one dragging against her overstimulated walls. The sensation was unbearable in the best way, the pleasure building once more as he continued to fuck her through her orgasm.
“You’re not done yet,” he murmured, his lips brushing against her ear. “I’m not done with you, baby.”
His words sent a shiver down her spine, the combination of his voice and his cock inside her driving her wild. She could feel every inch of him, the way his length pressed against her sensitive spots, the way his thickness stretched her in the most delicious way. Her body was still trembling, her pussy still fluttering around him, but he didn’t let up, his pace steady and relentless.
“Lando…” she breathed, her voice trembling with need. “Please…”
He smirked, his lips capturing hers in a searing kiss that swallowed her moans. “Please what?” he murmured against her lips, his voice low and teasing. “Tell me what you want.”
She didn’t answer with words, instead pulling him closer, her body arching into his as she surrendered to the pleasure he was giving her. Her pussy clenched around him, her body trembling as another wave of pleasure began to build, the sensation overwhelming as he continued to fuck her with slow, deliberate thrusts.
“That’s it,” he murmured, his voice rough with need. “Let me feel you.”
She could feel the tension building again, her body hoovering on the edge of another climax, but he didn’t let her fall. Instead, he pulled back slightly, his cock still buried deep inside her, the sensation leaving her gasping. “Not yet,” he whispered, his breath hot against her skin. "Let’s see how much you can take."
Her body trembled, the need for release again almost unbearable, but she didn’t argue. Instead, she leaned into him, her lips capturing his in a kiss that was as desperate as it was passionate. The air between them crackled with tension, the combination of hatred and desire fueling the fire between them. She hated him, but in that moment, she needed him just as much.
And with that, he didn’t give her a moment to recover. One second, she was sprawled on her back, breathless and trembling, the next he was gripping her hips and flipping her onto her stomach with a force that left her gasping. The move was sudden, commanding, and she barely had time to register what was happening before he was pressing her down into the mattress, his weight pinning her in place. Her face buried into the sheets, she felt the heat of his body hovering over her, his presence overwhelming as he positioned himself between her legs once more.
She could hear the faint rustle of the condom as he adjusted, and then, without warning, he was inside her again, his cock sliding deep into her pussy with a single, forceful thrust. She cried out, her fingers clawing at the sheets as he began to move, his pace relentless from the start. His hands gripped her hips tightly, pulling her back into him with every thrust, forcing her to take him exactly how he wanted. Her body rocked against the bed, the sound of their skin slapping together filling the room, mingling with her muffled moans.
One of his hands left her hip, and before she could react, it came down hard on her ass with a sharp spank. The sound echoed in the room, followed by a gasp torn from her lips. Her body jerked, her pussy clenching around him involuntarily, and he let out a low chuckle, clearly enjoying her reaction. He did it again, and again, each smack leaving a faint sting that only heightened the pleasure coursing through her. Her moans grew louder, more desperate, her body trembling as he continued to fuck her, his hand alternating between gripping her hip and spanking her until her ass was flushed and tingling.
“You like that?” he growled, his voice rough and thick with lust. She could only whimper in response, her body too overwhelmed to form words. His hand snaked up her back, pressing her down further as he leaned over her, his chest now flush against her back. The heat of him was searing, the firmness of his chest pressing into her spine sending shivers down her body. His weight pinned her in the most delicious way, making her feel small, vulnerable, and utterly at his mercy.
One of his hands moved to her wrists, pinning them above her head, while the other tangled in her hair, his fingers gripping the roots firmly. He tugged gently, tilting her head back, and she let out a low moan, the sensation sending a jolt of pleasure through her. His lips brushed against her ear, his breath hot as he whispered, “You’re taking me so well, Y/N. So fucking good for me. Your pussy feels incredible, so tight, so wet. You were made for this.”
His words sent a wave of warmth flooding through her, her body trembling as he continued to praise her. She loved it—loved the way his voice rasped in her ear, the way his words made her feel like she was the only thing in the world that mattered to him in that moment. His grip on her hair tightened, sending another thrill through her, the mix of pleasure and pain making her even more desperate for him.
He kissed her cheek, open-mouthed and messy, his lips trailing down to her neck as he continued to fuck her with deep, punishing strokes. His hips snapped forward, each thrust driving his cock deep into her, the angle hitting her in ways that made her see stars. She could feel every inch of him, the way his length stretched her, the way his thickness filled her completely. Her pussy clenched around him, her body writhing beneath him as she tried to get even closer, to take him even deeper.
The way his chest pressed against her back was intoxicating—solid, unyielding, and grounding. It made her feel small and safe in a way that only heightened the intensity of what he was doing to her. She could feel the rapid rise and fall of his chest, the way his breath hitched every time her pussy fluttered around him. The combination of his weight, his warmth, and the relentless rhythm of his thrusts was overwhelming, and she could feel herself teetering on the edge once more.
“That’s it,” he growled, his voice breaking with need. “Cum for me, Y/N. Let me feel you.”
His words pushed her over the edge. Her body tensed, her back arching as her orgasm crashed over her, waves of pleasure rippling through her with an intensity that left her gasping. Her pussy clenched around him, milking his cock as she shuddered beneath him, her moans muffled by the sheets.
And then he was there with her. With a guttural groan, his hips stuttered, and he came hard, his cock pulsing inside her as he filled the condom with his release. His body trembled against hers, his grip on her wrists and hair tightening as he rode out his climax, his breath hot against her neck.
For a moment, they stayed like that, both of them breathless and spent, his weight pressing her into the mattress. Slowly, he released her wrists and hair, his fingers brushing against her scalp as he let go. He kissed her shoulder softly, almost tenderly. Then with a groan, Lando pulled out of her, the sudden emptiness making her shudder. He sat back on his heels, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he quickly removed the condom. His fingers were steady despite the lingering haze of pleasure, tying it off with practiced efficiency to ensure nothing spilled. He tossed it into the nearby bin before collapsing beside her on the bed, his body sinking into the mattress with a heavy sigh.
The air between them was thick with the remnants of their shared intensity, the faint scent of sweat and sex lingering. He didn’t speak, instead lying there with his eyes closed, his breathing gradually slowing as he caught his breath. She stayed quiet too, her body still humming with the aftershocks of her orgasm, her mind too clouded to process much beyond the weight of him beside her and the warmth of his body close to hers.
For a moment, it was as if time had stopped, the world outside their little bubble fading into insignificance. The only sound was the soft rhythm of their breathing, a quiet reminder of what had just transpired between them. Hate or desire—whatever it was that bound them together—felt far less important now, replaced by a strange, unspoken closeness neither of them would admit to.
But as the silence stretched on, Y/N couldn’t help but glance over at him, her eyes tracing the lines of his face, the faint sheen of sweat on his skin, the way his chest rose and fell in a steady, calming rhythm. She didn’t know what to say—what could she say?—so she stayed quiet, her body still trembling faintly as she tried to make sense of it all.
Lando, for his part, seemed content to let the silence linger, his eyes still closed, a faint smirk playing on his lips as though he could sense her staring. But he didn’t move, didn’t speak, didn’t acknowledge the tension that still hung in the air between them. He simply lay there, breathing, his presence a quiet reminder of the line they’d just crossed—and the inevitable fallout that would follow.
She turned her head to look at him again, her body still humming with the aftershocks of her orgasm. He met her gaze, his smirk soft now, less teasing. “Still think men don’t care?” he asked, his voice low and rough, but there was a hint of something else in his tone—something that made her stomach twist in a way she wasn’t ready to examine.
She didn’t answer. She didn’t need to.
She tried to shift on the bed, but her body protested instantly. Her thighs were sore, her pussy still throbbing from the intensity of it all, overstimulated and sensitive. She winced slightly, and Lando noticed. Without a word, he pushed himself up, his movements fluid despite the exhaustion etched into his features. He disappeared into the kitchen, returning moments later with a glass of water. He handed it to her, his smirk faint but still present as she took it, her fingers brushing against his for the briefest moment.
Once she’d finished drinking, he set the glass aside and tugged at the sheets, pulling them up over her. His touch was surprisingly gentle as he adjusted the covers around her, making sure she was comfortable. She didn’t thank him, and he didn’t expect her to. But when he slid back onto the bed beside her, he didn’t leave her entirely. Instead, his arm snaked around her waist, pulling her closer until her back was pressed against his chest. His fingers traced lazy patterns on her skin, his touch light but deliberate.
“Don’t think this means anything,” he muttered, his voice low and rough against the back of her neck. “I still hate you.”
She rolled her eyes, but she didn’t pull away. The warmth of his body was comforting, even if she’d never admit it. She could feel the steady rise and fall of his chest against her back, his heartbeat a quiet rhythm that seemed to sync with hers. For a moment, she let herself relax into him, her body still humming with the lingering pleasure of what they’d just done.
But then, just when she thought it was over, he leaned in, his lips brushing against the shell of her ear. “You still think you hate me?” he whispered, his voice husky and filled with dark amusement. She could feel his smirk against her skin, and it sent a shiver down her spine. “I think you need another reminder.”
Her breath hitched, her body betraying her as she pressed back against him instinctively. She hated how easily he could unravel her, how his words could send heat pooling between her thighs again. She didn’t respond, but he didn’t need her to. He already knew the effect he had on her.
They stayed like that for a while, tangled up in the sheets, their bodies still buzzing with the aftermath of their shared intensity. Eventually, he tilted his head down, his lips grazing hers in a kiss that was equal parts smug and tender. “You were so desperate for me,” he murmured against her mouth, his voice barely above a whisper. “Bet you won’t ever forget this.”
She didn’t answer. She didn’t need to. The truth was written in the way her body still trembled against his, in the way her breath stuttered at his touch. And as much as she hated to admit it, he was right. She wouldn’t forget this—not for a long time.
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magicdustsworld · 16 days ago
Text
Zayne has standards.
He really does.
And those standards include not thirsting after his very beautiful wife every time she has the audacity to exist in a damn sundress.
But here he is.
You are sprawled out on the couch, using a cushion as a recliner while you scroll through your phone with a practiced ease that should have been illegal. You are wearing that sundress again—the same one he bought you and the same one that made him lose his mind the first time you walked out of your bedroom wearing that. The soft yellow clings to your bust and torso, before flaring from the waist down. A slit runs down from your knee to the hem—giving him a tantalizing view of your legs as you cross them over one another. The neckline dips low; although keeping your modesty concealed, the sweetheart shape leaves no stone unturned—promising the allure behind the veil.
There you are resting on the sofa like some celestial being descended from heaven; taking away his breath and self control—fighting and failing hard to resist the temptation.
And the worst part of it all? You aren't even trying to seduce him.
You are just there.
Radiant.
Effortless.
Dangerous.
As ever.
Zayne leans on the doorway, arms folded over hios chest and jaw set in a thin line as if that would the heat from crawling up his neck.
As if sensing his gaze, you speak without making the effort to look up, "Anything wrong?"
"It's too cold for you to be wearing something like... that.
"Huh?" Finally, you grace him the look he was so desperately begging for. (Not that you'll ever know about it). You make some clicks on your phone before turning the device towards him, "See! It's 70 degrees. It's warm enough."
In response, your husband just glares at the screen like it has personally offended him. It has. Then, he mumbles something incoherent under his breath; along the lines of 'You have a knack for getting knocked out cold' and 'How much it'd help him you if you only sprout some wisdom and put on a cardigan.'
He rotates on his heels, strolling towards the kitchen—at this point only some chilled water would help him—and hoping you haven't caught onto his monologue. But you did. You always do and when you finally register his words in your mind, a slow grin curls down your lips.
So that is it, huh?
No sooner has Zayne reached the refrigerator, he feels the warmth of your figure behind him. He fixes you with a questioning gaze, one of his eyebrows raising, as he fishes out a bottle of water from it.
Leaning against the counter, your perpetual smirk depends and that's the cue for your husband to know that you are upto no good.
"You okay, darling?" You ask, voice low and turning towards a teasing edge. Stepping closer, you place your hand on his forearm—the muscles tensing almost instantly under your touch. Perfect. "You look a little... warm."
Zayne clears his throat, "I am fine."
"Mhm, hmm, you sure?" you ask, leaning in—absolutely revelling on the effect you are having on him.
"Of course," he swallows, stepping back but you only step closer; not letting him or anyone shorten the proximity. You wouldn’t even let it happen, no matter what occurs. "Why would you even think otherwise?"
"Heh!" You snort, amusement floating in the sound. "Because what if I say you keep looking at me like I am dessert and you are starving?"
"Then I'll say you're delusional."
"Oh?" This time, you raise an eyebrow. Then, wedging your voice to a tone lower—transcending it to something sultry and wicked. "Then you wouldn’t be affected if I kiss you right now?"
His shoulder jerks back, eyes widening as a warmth spreads all over his cheek and burns down to his neck. "You wouldn’t dare—"
But you do.
You kiss him.
Standing on your tip-toes, your eyelids flutter shut as your soft lips pressed against his chapped one. The slow motion of the movement gave him all the time in the world to memorize each nook and cranny of your expression before you engulfed him into a sincere affection. Sacred in the act. Reverent in its nature.
After being happily married to the calm and composed Dr. Zayne—one of the best surgeons in the Akso hospital and the youngest winner of the starcather award—for two years; you'd wonder surprise kisses like this would be considered a routine now. And although they are, Zayne's reaction to them every time hasn't had a single itch of change. You still remember how he had reacted when you had kissed him unexpectedly for the first time. It had been under a snow cuddled christmas tree in the heart of Linkon city and as cliche as it was, it was the fruit of your hard earned resolve after yearning for him for literal years.
Even that time, his hands and feet had fallen victim to paralysis as well. Heart beating in his chest at a rapid rate and he stood there like a statue, barely moving his lips against yours—just like now. Only when did you begin to pull away, did he finally take the lead.
His hand wraps around your waist, pulling you close whilst the other cradles your jaw. Angling your face to the side, he parts his lips—pressing them on yours with a fervent hunger. His tongue prods over your lips and you open your mouth, welcoming him into the salacious exchange. The fabric of his shirt, bunches inside your fist prompting you to pull him closer. He relents, lips meeting with yours with sheer desire and affection. Despite the carnal nature of his mouth on yours, you couldn't deny the wafting purity in the air. The way Zayne handled you with so much affection and zeal—never rushing you, matching his tempo to yours because it isn't just him indulging in this wanton connection. There's you and Zayne is nothing but vigilant when it comes to you; as if you are a fragile thing and any stitch of recklessness would shatter you. Something he'd never let happen as long as he lives.
When he let's you go, both of you are breathless. Inhaling the mingling air in abrupt, short pants; a flush spread over your skin.
Then, "Still fine?" You whisper, gripping the fabric of his shirt tighter. The smug smile back with full force.
Zayne, still dazed and doomed, "You are... evil."
But even as he says that, his hold on your waist tightens just ever so slightly. Because, even if the end of the story concludes you as evil, he'll be gratified to know that you're his evil.
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P.S. if y'all are wondering why does every Lnds drabble of mine consist husband!LI then it's because I'd husband them up in a breath if they were real ;-; jdhdjhdjhs hope you liked it
Zayne is my main btw <3 do tell me yours!
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pseudowho · 7 months ago
Text
Motherhood had altered your 'turn-ons'; not that you lusted after mankind as a whole-- Kento was enough.
His cologne, split with the smooth tang of sweat on work-ripened skin. His hands, alternately gentle and rough, peach-handling or blade-wielding. The authority only the world saw; the authority only you felt.
Dressed-up, dressed-down, undressed, dressing you down, undressing you. Breaking you only to reform you with gold, tied with red thread, whispering you to completion in the dark sacred night.
So (you corrected yourself, as you watched Kento jog after your daughter at the indoor play centre) motherhood had not altered your turn-ons; it had added to them. Stacking high now, you considered the tower of your adoration was just as likely to be stable, as unstable; its endurance or toppling entirely at Kento's mercy.
The arrival at soft-play was a sensory nightmare-- one of many you could tolerate as a mother when you wouldn't have, before.
Obnoxious children's music blared, cut by screams and shouts and cries and calls and whirls and swirls of kids darting and weaving, watched and unwatched, by helicopters or the disinterested. The cocktail was potent, spiked. Your headache started behind your left eye.
Kento saw you. He was unfairly loaded at his own insistence, with change-bag and snack-bag and car keys and your daughter, planking and chattering, a possessed surfboard beneath his arm.
"Sit down-- have a coffee." Kento rumbled, low and slow, unclipping his watch into your cupped hands as you began to argue. "You've had her all week. You need a break."
"You've been at work all week, Kento, you need a break--"
"Don't argue. You know it's not the same. Sit down. Have a coffee."
He lied to you for your benefit; you could feel the bone-deep weariness of him, surely needing a day of sofa-bound naps over a day of childrearing. Alas; parenthood. And he would continue to take bullets for you, even to his own detriment. You knew this. You had planned ahead for this.
As you peered down at your phone, smiling at an eagerly awaited reply, your daughter piped up, bouncing on little toes, her pigtails bouncing too.
"'lide, daddy. Let's go fast. Faster. Race you."
Kento hummed, smiling. "Slide, you mean?"
"I said it. 'lide." Your daughter moved to dart to the towering play area, a flash of lightning into a maelstrom, and you caught her. Kento was distracted, looking into the swarm of other peoples' children, oddly, as he looked at a swarm of Curses. You whispered into your daughters' ear as Kento slipped his boots off.
"Hey, missus, listen."
Your baby girl perked up, sweet and conspiratorial, goofy-teethed and dimple-cheeked, whispering back.
"What is it, mummy?"
"I've got a surprise for daddy. So don't tell him...come here, mummy needs to whisper."
Lips at an ear; tiny hands clasping over a mouth, fizzlepopping with excitement. A long finger against lips; a little finger against lips. A secret pact.
"Are you ready, young lady? I'll get you in three...two..."
Kento reached down for your daughter, his hands clawed, a wolfish grin on his lips. Your daughter knew what it meant; she shrieked with panicked laughter, bolting. The monster formerly known as 'Daddy' dashed after her.
The coffee was shit; you didn't mind, instead hyperfocused on how Kento and your daughter would dip out of sight into the rainbow maze, only to reappear minutes later, with Kento looking more ravaged each time.
On the first loop round, Kento looked unfazed, unruffled, still clipped in his t-shirt and jeans. You simply admired the sultry half-smile he offered you, and the cling of fabric to his thick biceps, before he swept after your daughter again.
On the fifth loop round, flicks of hair escaped over Kento's forehead, the veins on his arms prominent from throwing and tumbling and monstering. He panted, his muscle so much heavier to carry than your birdlike daughter's personal load. Kento's playful growl, running after your giggling daughter, was deeper; huskier. You squirmed, sipping your shit latte.
On the eleventh loop round, a fine sheen of sweat misted Kento's forehead, a flush dashed on high cheekbones. His broad chest heaved, and he stretched his arms back, cracking his neck from side-to-side, with a groan usually heard only when he exerted himself above you, for less wholesome pleasures.
With furrowed brows, Kento prowled the bottom of the slide, and your daughter shrieked, scrabbling to get away from him as he lunged. Your daughter was bicep-curled up to Kento's face, laughing uproariously at his ferocious tummy-raspberries, before being set free, once more, for the hunt. You could not cope, aching, desperately hoping you had the energy left to sweat for him at the end of the day.
By the twenty-first? twenty-third? twenty-fifth? loop round, Kento jogged to a heavy halt, his shoulder blades taut as he bent double, hands braced against his own knees. You heard him panting, cursing under his breath, one long rusty groan. It was all too much-- Kento needed a break. You were unhinged and unsupervised. Surely there had to be some relief--
"Yo, Mrs.Nanamin! Am I late?"
A vision in peach, Yuuji flopped into the chair opposite you, with hands in his pockets and man-spread with a square-jawed, boyish grin. He stood taller than Kento, now, a full-grown man...but still shrunk beneath Kento's chastisement and lectures.
"Right on time, Yuuji. Are you sure you don't mind? It's all a bit..." You looked into the raucous soft-play, searching for words, "...feral."
Yuuji beamed, ruffling his own hair and kicking his shoes off. "Nah. I was gonna go to the gym anyway, but this seems more fun as workouts go."
You called out to your daughter as she reached the bottom of the slide, and Kento looked up, sweating and exhausted. "Baby! Your big brother's here!"
A gasp of thrill from your daughter, and Kento was all but forgotten by her as she pelted towards Yuuji instead, leaping into his arms. She slapped his scrunched cheeks, aggressively overjoyed.
"Big brother-- big brother-- big brother--"
"Yeah yeah, little sister, little sister-- c'mon squirt, I'm gonna getcha! Hey-- Dad--- uh, Nanamin! Gotta go!"
Kento watched his children run away with dewy eyes, his body still thickened by exercise and heavy breaths. You bit your lip as Kento approached, eyes half-lidded as you drank him in. You watched his Adam's apple bob as he gulped back water and gasped, husky with relief.
"God, I love that boy." Kento rumbled.
You melted to see Yuuji reach the bottom of the slide with your daughter on his lap. "Yeah...me too."
"He's saved my life...three times, now."
You laughed, your eyes dipped, tugging Kento to you by the hem of his t-shirt and beckoning him down with one curled finger.
"Think you'll still have some energy later?" You whispered, your breaths mingling with promise.
Kento's eyes narrowed, glimmering, his nose kissing yours. "For that? Always."
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yxxdel · 8 months ago
Text
Ride it
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ft/ kento nanami x f!reader, hiromi higuruma x f!reader
summary/ you love to take care of your overworked husband
wc/ 2.6k (1.4k + 1.2k)
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KENTO NANAMI
You were patiently watching the TV on the sofa when the door opened and the figure of your husband appeared. You automatically smiled as you bit your lower lips, already putting your slippers on as you stood up.
“Honey, I’m home.”
Kento said with a wearable expression and voice, taking off his shoes and putting his briefcase to the ground as you approached him.
Yet, when his brown eyes fell on you, they immediately softened. A little smile formed on his lips as you wrapped your arms around him, resting your chin on his chest as you looked up at him with a grin.
“Hey handsome, what’s with the tired face ?”
Kento’s hands grabbed your hips as he rested his face in the crook of your neck, his deep sigh made you shiver.
You giggled softly at his silent answer, grabbing his face and kissed the edge of his lips.
“Aw, is my lovely husband’s work too hard ? Is it exhausting ?”
You said to tease him, and he surprisingly nodded. Usually, Kento didn’t like when you talked to him like that. Like he was a baby. Kento was a grown man, who protected you and provided you everything you needed.
But when he was tired ? Oh, he just wanted to be your baby.
He gently grabbed your wrist to kiss your palm, kissing your forearm all the way to your shoulder.
“You can’t imagine,”
Kento muttered between heated kisses in your neck.
“How long today was. And you only made it worse.”
You chuckled, raising one brow as his lips trailed down your collarbone.
“I made it worse ? How’s that ?”
He lifted his head and you met his darkened gaze, making you swallow hard with anticipation. His fingers somehow found their ways under your shirt, caressing your back.
“Your body. Your skin. Your face. Your scent. It’s been on my mind all day, sweetheart. Hard to concentrate with all that.”
He whispered in a deep voice against your parted lips. Your hands found his hair, and you pulled him closer.
“Is that so ?”
You answered, reciprocating the lust in his voice before he crashed your lips together.
Kento let out a long growl as he kissed you passionately, your tongues dancing with each other. He bit your lower lips before licking it, and kissed you again. Soon you were out of breath, and pulled away with a grin.
He frowned a little, an amused expression on his face at your grin.
“What is it ?”
He remarked, his fingers caressing your cheekbones as you grabbed his tie.
“I have the perfect idea for reliving your stress.”
You retorted in a low voice as you started to walk backward toward the sofa, still grabbing his tie. He soon understood what this ‘idea’ was, and he inhaled deeply as you pushed him on the couch.
“If it’s only because I said I was tired, no need to force yourself to do it honey-”
He started but you cut him with another kiss, sitting on his lap as his hands automatically found your hips.
“Nonsense, if I ever say no to your dick, then it’s not me.”
You mumbled in his neck, leaving kisses on every inches of his skin. He tilted his head back to leave you more space, and let out a sigh at the feeling of your lips on him.
His hand grabbed your ass, squeezing it at your dirty word.
“Language, young lady.”
You chuckled against him, making him shiver as he closed his eyes.
After a long day of work, Kento could easily come just by your kisses.
“Not fair, you always talk dirty with me.”
You whispered before facing him, satisfied with his expression.
“Because you like it.”
He replied, and his breath stopped for one second when he felt your hands working to take his belt off.
“You love when I talk dirty too,” you said as you took his belt off. “I can feel it, liar.”
You proved your argument with your hand, caressing his bulge under you, still grinning.
Indeed, seeing his cute little wife talking dirty was a kink he didn’t know he loved.
You didn’t break the eye contact as your hand made its way inside his pants, pulling out his already hard cock.
Kento exhaled from his nose as you started to stroke it slowly, watching every change on his face with pride.
It’s when your thumb caressed his tip, leaking with pre-cum already, that a little sound exited his lips.
“Let me take care of you, hum ?”
You whispered, enjoying his dick growing larger at your words.
“I’m going to make you feel so good.” You left his cock for a few seconds to take your sweatpants off, then positioned your entrance in front of his tip. “I just wanna ride all your problems away.”
Yet you had difficulty putting his cock in because he was just so fucking huge.
Kento watched the show with a little smirk, tilting his head to the side as his hands grabbed your hips firmly.
“Need my help there, darling ?”
With an amused expression he pulled you down on his cock in one thrust.
You both let out a deep groan —you for how good he was filling you and him for how tight you were.
Grabbing his shoulders, you positioned yourself until it reached this spot inside you.
You rested your head in the crook of his neck, and with his hands still on your waist, you started to slowly ride his length.
He let out an inaudible curse as his head fell backward, letting you do all the work. At first, you winced a little from the pain this position gave you, but you quickly got used to it as you let out small whimpers.
You were taking him so well, your walls clenching around him as you fastened your pace.
Your ass started to slap against his balls and thighs as you took him deeper, his cock reaching your g-spot at every thrust.
You straightened yourself as you continued to jump on his dick, biting your lips with closed eyes from the sensation.
“Open your eyes, love,” Kento clarified, panting. “Look how naughty you are, riding me like there’s no tomorrow.”
You let out a long moan at his words, opening your eyes as your lips flew above his.
You were supposed to be the dirty talker, but the pleasure was so good you couldn’t even speak.
“Good girl.”
Your walls clenched around him at his praise, making him moan too. You could feel yourself coming closer to the orgasm, your pace slowing.
His grip on your hips became more firm as he let out a dark chuckle, licking his lips.
“Tired ?”
He teased you, but he knew it was because the pleasure was too much.
Blond locks got stuck to his forehead due to sweat, and he took matters into his own hands.
You were no longer riding him —you were so close reaching your climax that you just didn’t have enough strength anymore— but he was the one making you ride him.
His grip on you tightened even more as he made your body go down on his cock, letting out a groan at each deep thrust.
Now you’ll remember that, if you ever try to top Kento again, he’ll always find a way to dominate you.
He was the first to come, painting your walls white in a deep and long groan as he continued to move his dick inside you. A few seconds later, you came too while closing your eyes.
“A-ah , ken.” You whimpered, seeing stars as you both stopped your movements.
You fell on his chest, breathing heavily, as a small smile materialized on your face.
He swallowed hard, panting as well, but he hadn’t moved his cock yet. It was still sensitive. But his hands caressed your back as he kissed the top of your hair.
“You did wonderful, honey.”
You straightened your back, looking at him with eyes filled with pride and love.
“I hope it helped with your exhausting day.” You leaned in and pecked his cheek. “I liked it.”
He chuckled softly, lifting your body a little to take his cock out of you as he stood up.
“You like everything.”
He added, lifting you in a bridal style as you gently gave a punch to his chest.
“That’s not true, I don’t like coconut.”
Kento shook his head as he walked toward the bathroom, kissing your forehead.
“I know, love.”
HIROMI HIGURUMA
You smiled happily as you entered the law building, your light sundress illuminating the gloomy hall.
You greeted the secretary before entering the elevator, clicking the button for your husband’s level.
You took a glance at the lunch box you made just for him, hoping you didn’t forget anything at home.
Sometimes you bring lunch to Hiromi, well, it’s not like he had time to take a break and eat. But you didn’t complain; you liked seeing him at work.
Knocking at his office’s door, you opened the door when you heard his faint ‘enter.’ Closing the door behind you, you looked at him, whose attention was on a file in front of him.
He didn’t even look up.
“What can I do for you ?”
He mumbled unbothered, and you let out a small chuckle before walking to his desk.
“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe acknowledge that your wife is here ?”
You teased him, and the moment he heard your voice, his head rose immediately and his face lightened.
“My love..”
He said in a sigh before standing up and walking to you. It was such a relief for him to see you, with all the work to do. You chuckled again as he hugged you, inhaling your scent as you rubbed his back.
“Easy there, something happened?”
You joked as he grabbed your face in his palms, kissing your forehead. He stayed silent for a few seconds, admiring your wide smile while tucking your hair behind your ear.
“I missed you.”
He mumbled again, gently grabbing your hand to kiss your finger. Exactly where your wedding ring was.
“You saw me this morning, Hiromi.”
He took the lunch box in your hand before pecking your lips.
“It wasn’t enough.”
He walked back to his desk as he put the lunch box on it, and you followed him while shaking your head like a love-sick teenager.
He sat on his chair and made you know with his hand to come closer. He grabbed your hips as you positioned yourself between his legs, looking down at him with the same joyful expression.
He let out a long sigh as he rested his forehead on your stomach, just enjoying the intimate moment between you two.
You caressed his hair, grabbing his face with your soft palms.
“Are you tired ? I told you not to overwork yourself.”
You said in a soothing voice while he leaned in your touch, closing his eyes with his hand above yours.
“I know, sweetheart. It’s just that I want to help the people in need .”
You sighed, kissing his forehead.
“But you can’t take every case, baby. Look how exhausted you are.”
He smiled, his traits softening.
“Thank you for caring about me. I promise I’ll try to work less. Now..”
You let out a small gasp as he suddenly pulled you onto his lap, his hands grabbing your ass. You giggled, holding his shoulders to keep on his lap.
His eyes examined how the sundress enhanced your curves, and you felt him moving his lower body.
“Is that a new dress ? I never saw it on you before.”
He said in a low voice, his fingertips caressing your spine, and it made you shiver.
“Yes, it was on sale. And I know you love this color on me. You like it ?”
You said this while biting your lips and tilted your head back when you felt his lips on your neck.
He kissed your neck gently, his tongue teasing your skin. He went higher, just under your ear. Your sensitive place.
“Of course I like it. It makes me want to rip it off.”
You chuckled before pulling his face away, feeling his bulge under you.
“Alright, dirty talker. Eat your lunch, then we’ll see what I can do about that.”
His eyes darkened, and he pulled you in for a kiss. Hiromi let out a groan before his tongue entered your mouth.
You deepened the kiss by leaning closer to him, gasping for air as your tongues fought against each other.
Biting his lip before pulling away, you chuckled slightly.
“Lunch, Hiromi.”
He let out another disappointed sound before wrapping one muscular arm around your waist to keep you steady on his lap, and his free hand leaned in to grab the lunch box you brought.
He ate quickly, and each times you were about to tell him to go slower, he only gave you a glance full of lust.
And you kept your mouth closed each time.
A few moments later, he finished to eat and put the box back on his desk. You inhaled deeply, feeling your pussy starting to get wet only from the anticipation.
His grip on your waist tightened as he kissed you again. This time more aggressive, more passionate. Your saliva was dripping on your chin as you felt his hands slipped under your dress to squeeze your thighs.
It wasn’t the first time you and he had sex in his office, and it wasn’t going to be the last time either. You both loved how risky it was.
Out of breath, you broke the kiss as your hands were already inside his pants, stroking his length through his boxer.
He let out a hiss as he closed his eyes, licking his lips.
You smirked, kissing his cheek as you pulled his cock out. Stroking it slowly, your smirk widened at the pre-cum on his tip.
You felt his fingers putting your panties to the side, and you gasped a little when fresh air hit your bare pussy.
Hiromi opened his eyes, holding the back of your neck as you put the tip into your entrance.
Then you slowly went down, biting your lips from the pain due to how big he was.
His head fell backward as he felt your warm cunt around him, his breathing heavier.
“Damn, just what I needed…”
He inhaled sharply from his nose as his forehead fell on your chest, and you started to ride him.
Your slow pace didn’t last, you were now riding him like it was the last time. Your ass clapping on him echoed in the office as you let out small whimpers.
“Shhh.”
Hiromi shushed your noises with his mouth, not even kissing you, just pressing your lips against each other.
“We don’t want my coworkers hearing your lovely moans, now do we ?
You nodded, your eyes rolling back from the waves of pleasure each time his cock reached your g-spot. The lawyer let out a deep groan, his parted lips flying above yours as you rode him faster.
He closed his eyes when you fastened your pace, feeling himself coming closer to his climax. Hiding your face in his neck, you came with your body shaking.
He didn’t last longer either when he felt your walls clenching around him, and came inside you. You stopped to move, panting as you tried to calm yourself.
Hiromi chuckled slightly as he rubbed your back gently, kissing your cheek.
“Wanna stay here with me ? You’re not going out of this office in this state, sweetheart.”
You wrapped your arms around his neck, nodding. You knew he wasn’t going to be long for you, and that his day would soon be over.
So you simply stayed here, his cock buried in you as he grabbed his files to get back to work.
He occasionally kissed your jaw, telling you how good you were to him and that he loved you.
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excusemyobsessions · 25 days ago
Text
Does that mean you love me?
Sylus x MC/You/Reader
Genre: One shot, Fluff, Gender neutral (requested) Scenario: You've been spending too much time with Mephisto and Sylus is a little jealous Word count: 1007 words
Little note: this is so cute I couldn't believe I wrote it. Enjoy!
Warning: use of pet names (dear, handsome, kitten, darling), obvious mentions of jealousy, teeth-rotting fluff
Also posted on AO3
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You found yourself sitting sideways on the large sofa at Onychinus’ base, Mephisto perched up at the back, pecking at the little shiny bells of the new toy you’d bought him. Both of you were highly entertained with it, you because he seemed to have loved it and him because, well, it was shiny and new.
You loved Mephisto very much and had fallen into the habit of sitting down for a few hours, talking to him and playing with him, especially on days in which Sylus was too busy and you had to wait around for him.
The mechanical crow was with you all the time anyway, it was only normal you’d grown attached to him. His personality reminded you a lot of his owner’s so how could you not be fond of him?
You were so distracted with the crow, giggling when he pecked at the bell and looked so surprised and delighted to hear it chime, that you didn’t even hear Sylus walk into the room. Your back was facing the door anyway and you felt so comfortable and safe at the base that your guard was down entirely.
You only noticed your partner when he was already wrapping himself around you, arms around your waist, knees bent at each side of you, tucking you back, flush against his large chest. His head fell on your shoulder and you could hear him sigh heavily, as if letting out all the tension of a whole day.
“Hello, dear,” he said, in a silly, muffled way from the way his chin rested on your shoulder.
“Hello, handsome,” you responded quickly.
Mephisto pecked at another one of the bells which made a different sound. The way he hopped and let out a little excited caw had you giggling again. And then he pecked at the third bell which made yet another different sound and he looked so endearingly excited that you were fully engulfed in your playtime.
You barely missed the little huff Sylus let out against your shoulder.
“What does one have to do to have their kitten stop playing with the little bird and shift her attention elsewhere?” Sylus mused, with a little touch of gruffiness in his deep voice.
He lifted a hand and flicked his fingers. Mephisto tilted his head and cawed, spreading his wings and taking off to his perch at the corner of the room. While the bird got distracted with one of his shiny toys you’d hung up near his perch, you felt Sylus’ arms tighten around you.
At first, you were confused. Sylus had never minded you spending time with Mephisto. But then it hit you.
“Sy, are you jealous of your own bird?” you asked, quite baffled yet highly amused.
Sylus scoffed next to your ear as if you’d just said the strangest thing but he did not deny it.
You lifted your hand to your lips, to suppress a laugh and yet your frame shook within his arms. Your partner buried his face in your shoulder with a little groan, nuzzling his nose right on the curve of your neck.
“Sylus,” you called, voice laced with tenderness and amusement.
When you made motion to move, he let you, leaning back against the armrest while you turned around in his arms. He pulled you closer and you found yourself in between his legs, laying on your belly over him. Your hands moved up to thread through his hair and his ruby eyes fluttered close.
“Darling, there’s enough space for the two of you in my heart,” you told him.
His eyes flickered open, mischief sparkling in those crimson hues and you traced one of his dark eyebrows with your fingertips.
“Which one takes up more space though?” he questioned, low and mellow.
He turned his head to press his lips to your wrist as his hands sprawled out over your back, gently, slowly, massaging your shoulder blades. You had been hunched over while playing with Mephisto so the ministrations of Sylus’ fingers were very much welcomed.
“Hmm, are you really trying to get me to choose between you and your watch bird?” 
Mephisto cawed at the corner of the room. 
“Your crow,” you corrected.
“Well, you have, in fact, been devoting more attention to my crow than me,” Sylus accused, clearly only half-joking.
This side to him was just so endearing and amusing that you couldn’t help the little laugh that freely slipped through your lips. You saw his eyes soften with what you recognized to be immense fondness.
You shifted further up, to cup his cheeks between your fingers, tracing his cheekbones with your thumbs.
“You silly,” you cooed.
Sylus’ hands halted and his arms circled your frame once again while you laid kisses all over his face. One cheek, then the other, the tip of his nose, the bridge, each eyelid. One extra kiss for the right eyelid. And then one final kiss to his forehead before you pulled back just a little. His eyelids were heavy on his ruby eyes, the bliss of tenderness making him soft and pliable in your hands.
“If the world was ending, I’d want to be next to you,” you told him.
The soft chuckle which rumbled from his chest was one of tenderness, a smile spread over his lips.
He suddenly rolled the two of you onto your sides, one of his big hands cradling your head to make sure you didn’t hit it uncomfortably. And soon he was buried in your neck, peppering tiny kisses all over, shoulder, neck and chin, stealing sweet little giggles from you.
His hair was disheveled when he pulled back but he didn’t seem to care.
“Does that mean you love me?” he asked, with a little grin.
You cupped his face between your fingers, smiling into those soft crimson eyes.
“What do you think?” you answered
“I think you do,” he concluded.
You hummed with a little nod and leaned forward, to press a kiss to his lips.
“I do,” you vowed.
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pandj0ra · 9 months ago
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© uvuyai 2024. . . ~ ღ
𝓛𝓲𝓽𝓽𝓵𝓮 𝑴𝒊𝒔𝒔 𝑾𝒐𝒍𝒇
–tw. Fem reader, size difference, sub!wolf!reader x dom!bunnie!boy, breeding, bratty reader, doggy style to prone bone, overstimulation, hybrid au, kabedoning, tail tugging, eating outz from behind, creampies, brat taming, enemies to lovers, dub-con(???), teasing, mindbreak, masturbation, mention of heats, public sex in a storage room, blowjob,
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ღ ~ You never liked this bunny boy that's just roaming around thinking he's the shit. You were pretty sure he's tired of you aswell. Always in his face saying that you could easily break him down, he doesn't take you seriously by your height and just smirks which ticks you off even more.
You always find a way to tease him. Either by tugging on his tail or ears, or sitting on his lap when he's studying or reading, grinding down to get a reaction from him. He doesn't have a popular fanbase so you won't have to worry about girls getting jealous or flocking over him.
He's very quiet too. You've done things to him that would've surely made him whine or moan. You know you can overpower this big guy. But, why isn't he getting affected by any of your methods? You almost want to cry. But you won't show it.
Outside of the building, you hold his arm as if you were his girlfriend. Wrapping your tail around his leg as you follow him to a café or even his home. He doesn't care what you do. You look adorable looking around in his home. He'll even be willing to let you stay a night or two. Even let's you wear his shirts which are really oversized since it hangs low past your knees. You were left with just his shirt, your panties, and thigh highs.
He let you sleep on his bed and he takes the sofa. As you let some time pass, you took a hold of his pillows and hugged it with your arms and legs as if it was a real person you were cuddling. You grind your cunt onto the pillow, your juices seeping onto the cotton filled thing from your panties. You'll just give an excuse saying that you drool a lot. You inhaled the scent that lingered on the pillow and sheets, making your cunt stickier with slick.
You grinded down harder onto the pillow but you grew frustrated with the outcome of not reaching your high. You sat up and pushed your panties to the side. Your underwear was so sticky that slick stuck to it when you pushed it to the side. Your nimble fingers toyed with your clit and pushed some fingers into your cunt. You let out low whimpers and moans so as not to wake him up. You closed your eyes, deep into pleasure as you were reaching your high. Your hands reached that spot you longed to touch for so long, you squirted onto the sheets and on your hands.
You let out a few squeaks and breathy moans before realizing you wet his sheets. You fixed yourself up and wiped the sweat that was dripping down your temples. You ran to his closet and rummaged through them to find another clean sheet. You found one and replaced the one. You threw the other one in the far back of the closet and went to sleep. You hoped you didn't wake him.
Oh but you did wake him. He was just reading when he heard breathy whimpers coming from his room. He crept to the slightly cracked bedroom door and spied on you as you continued your act. He felt blood rushing to his cock and to his surprise he was hard. He palmed himself before taking out his thick and girthy cock out. The tip had a pearl of precum drool from the slit. His hand strokes the base as he continued to pump at the sight of you.
Soon he came in sync with you. His cum falling on the floor. He went to the bathroom and grabbed a towel to wipe it up and threw it in the dirty hamper. He went back to the sofa and went to sleep.
The next day was a weekend. You woke up to see him making breakfast. You tapped his shoulder, saying that you'll need a ride home. He nodded and told you that he had an extra toothbrush in the bathroom if you needed one. You both ate and reluctantly complimented his food while feeling hot in the face with a pout. He chuckled silently.
You brush your teeth with the extra toothbrush and put your work clothes back on, you tie your blazer around your waist and grab your essentials to go wait in the car like he told you.
The whole car ride to your place was very quiet, except you told him which direction to go. You arrived outside of your apartment complex and it was time for you to go. You leaned over and gave him a kiss on the cheek and left the car. You noticed he didn't leave afterwards and noticed he was looking at you so you blew him a kiss and waved him off. He shyly waved and drove off.
Monday soon came rolling by and you were back to your normal self. The teasing was getting on his nerves today not because he was tired of you, no. He was surprised you didn't kneel at his feet, begging him to take you.
Throughout the week, you were slowing down your teasing and talked to the other employees. On a late Friday, you and him were told to work late hours. The boss gave him the keys as he trusts him to lock up the place. You both were at the end of your shift and you just wanted to get home and relax in a nice shower. He ran off somewhere maybe to the bathroom but you saw he was done.
You yawned and rubbed your eyes and you were finishing up the printing and typing. You took a sticky note and wrote I'm done so I'm taking your keys to your car to wait inside. You packed up your things and took the elevator down.
You tiredly walked to the entrance but your arm got pulled into a storage room. You screamed but the person used their hand to cover your mouth. You ears went flat on your head as your tail fluffed up in fear.
A light turned on and you saw him. Your ears perked up and your tail felt the urge to wag. “E-eh? Why did you drag me here?!” you yelled but he did nothing but glare down at you which made you feel really small. “You been nothing but a brat, little miss wolf.” he crosses his arms as he glares at you more intently.
He started walking towards you and you back away slowly as if YOU were the bunny in this situation. You hugged your tail, hoping he wouldn't hurt you. You saw his shadow hovering over you. You peered up and saw him with his hand placed above your head. “I know what you did in my bed, little wolf.” you looked at him as if he was crazy but your eyes widened as the thought came back to you. “I-I can explain y'kn-” “There's no need for it.” and with that he swiftly lifted your woke skirt up, revealing your drenched panties and slick thighs.
You gasped and tried to cover it but he took your wrists into his hands and pinned them to the wall. “Don't try to cover up now since you didn't think about it while fingering yourself in my bed,” your ears went flat and you felt your face go hot and meekly apologized.
“Get on your knees.” you were about to ask him why but met his sharp gaze and it said otherwise. You got on your knees and waited for something to happen. His hand reached the zipper of his pants and unzipped it. He pushed his underwear down to reveal his thick, long, and girthy dick. It nearly smacked you in the face but you backed up, you gave his dick a scared look of terror. How could he, a bunny, have such a big thing like that?
He nudged his cock to your lips and you gave it a kitty lick. You let your lips engulf the tip of his dick and slide your tongue on the underside. You inched his cock further down your throat but your tongue could barely lick the underside. Your head moved faster with the motion to grant him his release. Breathy moans came from above you as you didn't notice his hand itching its way to the back of your head. His palm grasped your head to push you down further on his cock, you nose touching his pubic area as he blew his load in your throat.
You tried to move away but his hand kept you there as cum kept pumping from his dick. Some were already leaving your mouth even though you hadn't moved away. Some cum dropped on the floor and some landed on your face.
He finally released your head and you coughed when, trying to catch your breath. You noticed he undressed himself from his blazer and dress shirt and placed it on the ground in a neat way. “On all fours, now.” he pointed at the clothes and you shyly moved the clothes, positioning yourself on all fours. His hands moved all over your body to undress you fully. He only left you in your thigh highs as he thought it was cute to see your legs thrashing with the tight material squeezing at your thighs.
His hands grab at your thighs and move himself to your sticky and dripping pussy.”Pleasepleaseplease. . .” you begged. He dove his tongue in your cunt, your juices hitting his tongue. Your eyes widened as your thighs started to shake and tremble. He flattened his tongue on your cunt which made you get closer on the edge as he thrust his tongue in and out your pussy. His tongue thrust into that spot that made you squirt on his face. Your arms collapsed under you and your ass was now in the air.
You were embarrassed how you wet his face. Your ears and tail drooped and he noticed but just gave pats to your head. You snuggled your head up into his head and didn't notice how his cock head was basically breathing on your pussy.
He thrusted in while gripping your waist. Your hands clawed at the clothes beneath you that were protecting you from bruising your hands and knees. You mewled as he hit right on the spot, making you gush all over his dick. Your pussy was slightly struggling to take him fully in. Just pushing your pussy past its limit was a life achievement for him. He pulled at your tail so you can meet with his thrusts. You whined and yelped due to how sensitive your tail was.
Your tongue was sticking out your mouth in the most lewd fashion. You tried to crawl away but he grabbed your arms and pulled them behind you to further thrust into your pussy. You dove your face into the clothes beneath you and bit them between your teeth to muffle your high pitched moans and whines. His cock aimed at your cervix so much it made you feel dizzy. He could see the stars swirling above your head and your hazy eyes.
He leaned closer and started peppering soft kisses on your face. You were the smallest thing he's ever seen that even when he leaned forward you were still in the doggy position. He bit at your fluffy ears and moved his hand down to play with your clit. As he kept thrusting at your womb, he noticed your stomach kept stretching outward. He moved his hand up and felt his cock punch at your cervix which showed on your stomach. He stopped thrusting which made you look back. “I-is something wro- OOmph!” his wild thrust back into made you get pinned to the floor. His shadow hovered over you as he pinned both his arms beside you.
You whined as the mushroom tip dove back into your cervix. If he went hard enough, he would burst through. Your legs thrashed behind you as he kept hitting the spots that you loved deep inside. Your tongue stuck out your mouth with some saliva sticking on your tongue and some drooling from your chin. His finge pinched at your tongue which made you grimace and struggle to put it back in your mouth. Your breathing got heavy and started to squirm. You pushed your hips back with all your strength to meet his thrusts. You squirted onto his dick, some splashing on his pubic area.
A few more thrusts into you and he came inside you. He creamed deep inside your womb that it made your stomach bloat which he was proud of.
Your body collapsed to the ground as you were finally tired. He got up and looked at your form. Sweat glistening on your skin, the white substance leaking from your bruised hole, and your trembling body. He grabbed you by your waist and cradled you in his arms. He grabbed his and your clothes and left the storage room to finally go home and lock up the place.
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The dommy bunny boi :3 /Blade, Jing Yuan, Dr. Ratio, Aventurine, Gallagher, Boothill, Sampo, Welt, Pierro, Capitano, Pantalone, Wriothesley, Neuvillette, Alhaitham, Choso, Toji, Gojo, Nanami, AND OTHER CHARACTERS THAT FIT!!
ღ ~ DO NOT PLAGIARIZE, COPY, REPOST, OR TRANSLATE MY POST W/O PERMISSION. DO NOT COPY MY LAYOUT. YOU MAY TAKE INSPIRATION BUT MAKE SURE TO CREDIT ME.
[ I hate writing dialogue 😭]
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