#please stop blaming yourself baby

[kitkatwinchester]

F*CK

Well...

I see Scott accidentally chose the nightmare option with his dream state...

I hate it.

I hate that his brain is trying to make him go against his own nature and convince him to start killing people, and I hate that it's using Liam and repeatedly killing him to do it. But the biggest reason I hate it is because of my poor baby's guilt complex. All of those people are already dead, and while Scott wasn't directly involved in killing any of them, you can tell, based on the fact that his brain is doing this, that there's a part of him that feels like he should've done something about it.

And that is soooo not fair to yourself, Scott. Deaton and Chris tried to tell you. You CAN'T save everyone. You CAN'T. A lot of these people are writing their own fates by default of the choices they make--Peter killed The Mute, yes, mostly out of anger, but also to protect Derek and Noah. Rafael killed The Chemist in order to save Stiles. The closest deaths to you were those of The Orphans, and even those WEREN'T YOUR FAULT, because their actions put them in the crossfire, and THAT'S what got them killed.

I get it, Scott. I do. And you know I love that about you. But you GOTTA stop blaming yourself (also very quick aside, Scott having more fangs is an interesting revelation...).

But the other thing is...I'm also kind of glad he's thinking about it at all. Because as much as I love Scott and his savior complex...Liam does have a point. Just like his dad said, sometimes killing is your only option. If it's them or you, are you really going to let them kill you just so that you don't have to kill them? Are you going to let them kill someone in your pack? His loyalty and love for his friends and family makes me find it hard to believe that he'd ever let somebody hurt them, but I don't necessarily trust him to protect himself...and that's a scary thought.

So yeah, I hate the way his brain is doing it. I hate it with every fiber of my being. I hate that Scott is sitting there torturing himself and beating himself up. But I'm also kind of hoping he gains something from it, and I'm hoping that maybe this nightmarish dream state will give him a chance to work through that guilt and learn that sometimes, it really is you or them...

But still...poor baby. :(

Anyways.

I want to hate the interactions between Malia and Peter, because I REALLY want to hate Peter, ESPECIALLY when I can see his manipulation from a mile away, but....I don't. I REALLY don't. God there's just something about him...I can't truly hate him. I can't. He's too funny, and too charming, and too smart, and just overall too fun for me to hate him.

I don't trust him IN the slightest, but...I also don't hate him. And I'm hoping Malia has a similar frame of mind about him.

Back to the hospital, that Stiles, Kira, and Liam interaction was ADORABLE and I love them. XD <3

"Okay and you're both coming right back. Immediately. *shakes head* Kids."

STILES YOU ARE THE SAME AGE! Sure, Liam is a freshmen, but Kira is YOUR AGE SIR! YOU ARE EQUALS! XD XD

But, admittedly, he and Scott are 100% the parents of the pack, so...ya know. There is that. XD <3

All of that said, I am absolutely freaking terrified at the prospect of Kira and Liam having to face one of those freaking Berserker things ALONE, but it's FINE.

This is where a million things start to go wrong, I just know it....

ANYWAYS.

Happy gif to make me feel better. XD

(STILES YOU ARE SUCH A PARENT I CANNOT! XD <3)

Update: THE WAY STILES SO DRASTICALLY FLINCHED WHEN ARGENT ACCIDENTALLY PULLED HIS GUN ON HIM I HATE IT!! AS IF THIS KID NEEDED ANY MORE TRAUMA FOR CRYING OUT LOUD!

Update Part II: LET'S F*CKING GO! Dude that Derek and Braeden scene was AMAZING, and the set-up was BEAUTIFUL, and I could not have asked for anything better OMG. The chemistry, the sass, the electricity, the attitude, the LINES, the MOVEMENTS, the MAKE-OUT SESH! Yeah that was awesome. 10/10 approve. I'm adding a gif because I loved it so much and didn't feel like making a whole new post.

(I soooo hope we get more of them. I love them already. <3)

[lxnarphase]

━━ ❝ come and put your name on it ❞

special treatment : lap edition

☾₊���⁺...ft. : gojo satoru + geto suguru + nanami kento + fushiguro toji + hakari kinji

☾₊‧⁺...cw : cockwarming, somnophilia, dirty talk, grinding + dry humping, fingerfucking, overstimulation, praise kink, edging, oral fixation, satoru's silly pet names, suguru being smug, kento being a desperate man, toji being toji, kinji being a bully

✧ g. satoru : sometimes gojo knows he fucks you too good to the point you can't think after, something he brags about to you all the time. but when you snuggle up to him, still stuffed with his cock and warm with his cum, he can't help but run his hands all over you. and when he realizes you fell asleep on his dick, his heart squeezes and his cock throbs hard.

"pretty angel, did you fall asleep? oh, that's just precious...you're making my heart squeeze, i wish i had my phone, you look so cute like this." "did you say my name? dreaming about me? god, you're so precious, i could just fuck you like this...shit, don't fuckin' squeeze on me like that, are you having a wet dream right now? god, i love you so fucking much." "aww, my little mochi is so cute! look at youuu, you're gushin' all over the place. messy fucking pussy too small to keep my cock and all my cum inside you." "mm, fuck, pretty thing. you wakin' up? hi pretty girl...oooh, fuck, d-did you just cum? holy fuck, c'mon, baby, on your back, lemme fuck you, princess, let 'toru make you cum again, yeah?”

✧ g. suguru : suguru's softly cooing at you when you sleepily walk into the living room, whining to him that you had a dream and you wanted him to 'fix the problem he caused.' all he can do is just chuckle at how childish and bratty you can be as his hands are moving up and down your sides while he grinds up into you.

"you're such a brat, you know that right? always blaming me for your dreams. it's not my fault you can't stop thinking about how good i fuck you." "hmm? ooh, i see...you keep having dreams of me cumming inside you, hm? are you trying to say something, princess? d'you want me to start breeding you?" "i didn't say stop moving, did i? or do you need me to do all the work? heh, so spoiled, i've spoiled you absolutely rotten." "i know, but just cum once like this, won't you? if you do, i promise i'll fill your cute pussy with my cum, okay? mhm, promise, princess, i'll give you what you need."

✧ n. kento : nanami loves having you close to him, especially when you sit in his lap. it lets him nuzzle his nose into your neck, pressing little kisses where he can while your legs are spread over his strong thighs, his thick fingers leisurely pumping in and out of your needy hole, chuckling against your skin whenever you jolt.

"honey, have i mentioned how gorgeous you are? you look so beautiful like this...spread open and wanting, just for me." "you're sucking my fingers in so well. look at that...do you think you can take a third?" "it's so messy. look at what you've done to my fingers, honey, they're soaked. clean them off for me, i want you to taste yourself before i put them back in. maybe tonight we can make you squirt, hm? do you wanna try, darling?" "you think you're going to cum again? poor thing, your little cunt is so greedy, she just wants to cum over and over again on my fingers...is my cock not good enough for you, mm? aww, don't pout, i'm just teasing you, darling." "i know, i know, it's too much, but you can take it. be my good girl, just take it and keep cumming until you can't anymore."

✧ f. toji : sitting on toji's lap is, in his mind, an invitation for him to run his hands all over you. his cock is already hard in his sweats, but he's subdued the second you get comfortable and slowly grind against him, groaning when you press sweet kisses into his neck.

"tch, are you gonna let me fuck your thighs t'night? pretty please? yeah, that's right, i'm askin' nicely. why? don't play stupid, doll, you know what they do to me." "shit...keep moving those hips, sweetheart, you feel so fuckin' good like this." "god, i can feel that pretty pussy leaking through my sweats. big bad toji make you that fuckin' wet, mama? y'like grinding that clit on my dick through my pants? dirty fucking girl." "mmh, you keep tugging my hair like that and I'm not even gonna take you to the bedroom, i will fuck you into this damn couch, woman.” "listen here, wifey, I'll wreck your cunt until you can't think about anything but me inside you. hell, I'll ruin this stupid couch in the process, i don't give a fuck about stainin' it."

✧ h. kinji : when you sit on kinji's lap, it's when he's watching a fight on tv. you can tell it's not going how he wants it to go, the toothpick between his teeth being gnawed on. when you make eye contact with him, he just raises an eyebrow, one of his hands squeezing your hip.

"cupcake, do me a favor and get on my dick before i get up and give us a reason to get a new tv." "hey, hey, don't move yet, let me see if he lands this punch...don't whine like that before i put my fingers in that pretty little mouth t' shut you up." "you always squeeze so tight when i press down on your tongue like this...pretty thing likes that shit, doesn't she? go on, fuck yourself on my dick while you drool all on my fingers like a slut." "mm, shit, baby, i can't focus on that bullshit fight, lemme help you. yeah, thaaaat's it, let your boy fuck you nice and deep, make ya cream, juuuust like this."

all rights reserved © lxnarphase | do not repost, copy, translate, or alter my work

[hoshigray]

𝐒𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐇 𝐨𝐫 𝐒𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐇[𝐞𝐫]!! | t. fushiguro + s. ryōmen

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: Next time, look around the area before you say you find a serial killer attractive. Because you’re about to see what mess your words will have you end up in — and your clothes all torn up.

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: serial killers! Toji + Sukuna x fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - modern au! - age gap (the reader is in their early 20s) - porn with plot - oral (f! + m! receiving) - threesome - double penetration; anal (first time) & vaginal - restricted movement (hands tied up) - face-sitting - cowgirl dp positions - gun + knife play - choking - spanking - unprotected sex - overstimulation - degradation (brat, broad, slut, whore) - pet names (baby, dollface, good girl, pet, princess) - blackmail/threats - the reader is in an established relationship w/ Nanami - mentions of blood, tears, spit, and drool.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 6.6k (told you, porn with plot, lol)

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: uhhhh happy Friday the 13th, everybody???? blame @ramonathinks for this idea (jk, don't, she's so amazing, ty for pushing me into this, mona bear ♡ and tysm for beta reading; your thoughts mean the world). Haven't done a fic in two months sooooo go easy on me!! Not proofread, so I'll fix stuff l8rrrr

“No.”

“Oh, come on, Y/n! Just answer the question!”

“You’re so fucking sick, you know that!?” You glare at your friend, who slumps on the booth chair with a heavy sigh. 

A slight breeze tickles your skin through your comfortable sweatshirts as the leaves on the trees slowly change to autumnal colors, and Halloween decor is already adorning every house and every yard. It was a warm and sunny afternoon on this pleasant Friday. Usually, you’d be cozied up in your apartment enjoying yourself, probably catching up on some horror flicks you missed last year. 

But alas, that was not the case. Because you’re a college student. As October has finally rolled around, only one thing prevents you from enjoying this beautiful season — midterms. The thought of it is enough to pull you into a pool of dread. Every day has been one whirlwind after another. Yet, on the bright side, all you have now is one last exam to worry about, and you’ll finally be able to rest this weekend. So here you are, at the diner with your best friend, Shoko Ieiri, completing your papers while eating off your plates to satiate the stress. For the most part, things were going smoothly.

Until the news anchor on the television at the bar relays an announcement… 

“…Once again, everyone, please be on the lookout for these two killers on the loose. Three weeks ago, the two recently escaped from their cells, killed three guards, and are still at large. There have been accounts around the state that reported recent sightings of either or both criminals, the recent one being in this county 27 hours ago. So, please, stay safe. The killers are identified to be…”

And Shoko, being the curious person she is, asks you a question that stops your fingers from typing on your laptop: “Do you find those killers hot?” 

That’s how you two end up where you are now, groaning at the brunette’s persistence in getting your approval to find two criminals — murderers, even! — attractive. 

“Hey, Y/n, I know you hear me.” Shoko snaps their fingers at you while you try to get the assignment done. “Just answer the question: don’t you think those guys are hot.”

“We didn’t come all this way for you to talk about your hybristophilia fantasies.” Facing the Word document, you remind your friend why you’re here in the first place. “Just get back to writing; I wanna finish this and get home.” There’s nothing said afterward for a few seconds, thinking she has finally given up.

However, “First of all,” your eyes close to conceal them rolling behind the lids. “I’m not into hybristophilia; I just know a hot guy when I see one. Second, look at their mugshots. Like, damn, you’ve ever seen anyone so intimidatingly good-looking before? Come on, have a look!”

“You’re such a weirdo,” the click-clacking of your fingertips tapping your keyboard fills the rest of your answer. 

Still, she persists. “Y/n, look at the phoooone~”

No words, only tapping keys.

“Y/n?”

The keys become louder. 

“Pretty, pretty, pleaseeeee~?” 

Louder.

“Y/n!!”

A fist bangs on the booth table as the other closes the laptop shut, sending another glare to the person across from you who holds the phone up. You’ve had it at this point, so you say with a steady breath, “If I look at the dumb mugshots and answer your dumb question, will your dumbass leave me alone and finish your work?” The brunette only puts the phone on the table and slides it your way, giving you big doe eyes and whimpers like a hurt puppy. You sigh with your nostrils as you snatch the phone up, your gaze stationed on the images presented.

The image displayed two mugshots: on the left was a man with raven hair and a scar on the left of his lip. Intense, forest-green orbs contrast the black strands that cover his forehead. The mugshot letter board below him is labeled as "Toji Fushiguro." The one on the right is another man with spiky salmon-colored hair pushed upfront with prominent black tattoos decorating his nose, cheeks, and forehead. The board named him as “Sukuna Ryōmen.”

You look at the pictures intently, examining the men’s features at your discretion. It didn’t occur to you how long you were gawking at the mugshots until you peered from the phone to see Shoko give you the biggest shit-eating grin. Shaking your head, you chew the inside of your cheek before responding.

“….Well,” you cough. “…they’re not terrible looking at all. They are…..hot.”

“Told you!” Shoko slams the table with high enthusiasm, earning another sigh from you as she snatches the phone back. “Would you fuck them?”

You almost popped a vein. What the fuck—“is wrong with you!?” 

“It’s just a question, geez.” She holds her hands up defensively. “Or is that too lewd and raunchy to ask the partner of the trusting, charismatic “Golden Boy” SGA president, Kento Nanami?”

You choke on your spit before you can say anything, and your cheeks dial in warmth. “S-Shut up! Don’t bring my love life into whatever deviant horny thoughts you’re thinking!”

“I’m sorry, I’m boreeeeeeed. I don’t wanna do this paper, ugh.” The brunette whines and bangs their forehead on the table surface; your eyes roll for the fifteenth time in the past three hours. “…Maybe I should get some dick after this.”

“For fuck’s sake, I’m going to use the restroom.” 

You exit the dining booth when they give you a muffled response of anguish, straightening yourself and heading for the back of the diner. As you walked away, you noticed a pair of hooded figures sitting at the booth behind you. Realization kicks in, and you groan internally. Oh, God, they probably heard what we were talking about! But what caught your mind next was that one of them had a black mark on the bridge of their nose. Huh, what an odd tattoo…

After using the toilet, you wash your hands at the sink, but your mind is still fixated on that weird tattoo. Who would get such a thing on their face? Wouldn’t that hurt? I wonder if that’s the only tatt— And then It clicked, you quickly turn off the faucet and dry your hands, exit the rest restroom, and run to your booth. Shoko was begrudgingly typing away on their laptop until she saw you return in a hurry. 

“Hey, you okay?” She asks you, but you aren’t looking at them. Your face contoured to a confused expression as you stared at the booth behind the one you were sitting in, now empty. 

“Did…..The two people who sat behind us, did you see them?” 

“Hmm? No, I didn’t. Must’ve left while my head was on the table.”

“Uh huh…” you say nothing more as you slowly sit back in front of your laptop. Your mind is now clouded with confusing thoughts, questioning your experience up until now. It could be a coincidence, quite far out at that. Regardless, you could’ve sworn you saw that tattoo on the Sukuna guy that Shoko showed you. It was such an uncommon decor, especially since you just saw it on the face of a criminal. Not to mention, the news anchor earlier stated that those two killers were in this exact county…

Needless to say, you didn’t touch your keyboard for about twenty minutes. Your mind was too wrapped up elsewhere to think clearly about your school assignment, and your body harbored a disturbing chill worse than the soft autumn winds.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“…So, why are you researching about the loose killers again?”

“Hm? Oh,” you stop typing on the laptop to attend to the phone call you’re on. Exiting your bedroom, you walk to the living room. “No reason, I was just curious. I saw something about them on the news at the diner with Shoko.”

The person on the other side of the line hums. “You should be careful about stuff like that.”

“Yeah, I know, Kenty,” you open the sliding door to your balcony and close it behind you before taking a seat on the cream-colored swing chair.

“I’m very serious, Y/n.” It was none other than Kento Nanami who was speaking with you. The trustworthy “Golden Boy” of your class year, the circumspect president of the Student Government Association… your loving and attentive boyfriend.

"I know you are."

"And those guys aren't just any usual criminals. They're notorious killers who barge into people's homes at night to steal valuable things. Maybe even kill their victims in their sleep if they have the time. So, be very careful, okay? Can’t trust these streets at night, especially now with those guys on the run. So, don’t go anywhere alone, always have your pepper spray on you, and be sure everything is locked — doors, windows, everything.”

A deep sigh leaves your lips. “Yeah, I double-checked all the locks once I got inside.” 

No one says a word; the rustling of the trees and the beeping of cars from the traffic at the light substitute this awkward silence. Until Nanami says, “….You scared?”

You don’t answer immediately, your mind flashing back to the bewildering encounter at the diner earlier today. Those two hooded men, one with a black tattoo on his face. It felt too surreal to feel like a coincidence, yet it wasn’t too far out of your mind to think as such. The timing was strange, with the news reporter and your conversation with Shoko. The thought of two murderers nonchalantly being in the same space as you rub you off in the worst way imaginable. “…Kinda, yeah. A bit spooked.”

“You want me to come up there and spend the night?”

“No, no! You don’t have to do that,” you hurriedly decline his proposal. “I know you’re busy with homework and student government stuff. I wouldn’t want you moving around so much; I’d feel bad.”

You hear him chuckle on the other side of the phone, and your heart swoons at the sound. “Don’t feel bad; you could never be a burden to me, especially when your safety is my top priority.” Another skip of the beat; it’ll never fail to amaze you how sweet he is with his words.

“Thank you, Kenty. But still, I know you’ve got a lot on your hands. You don’t have to see me right this moment. Besides, isn’t Haibara supposedly dragging you to some party at Geto’s?” Nanami is silent for a few seconds before he groans; a smile creeps up on your face at his reaction.

“Unfortunately, yes. I have to leave to pick him up, and then we can go…But I can cancel and come o—“

“Absolutely not.” You’re quick to interject. “You’ve been so high and on edge with your exams. This is the first party after midterm week. And I can bet my left toe that Gojo — cause you know he’ll be there if Geto is — will be upset you couldn’t make it.”

“…….Which one?”

“Excuse me?”

“You have five toes on your left foot, so which one—“

“Kento.” He chuckles once more for your ears to hear at the use of his real name. “Have fun, okay?”

Nanami hums. “I’ll try. I’ll come by your place Sunday. Sounds good?”

“Perfect. Take some pics for me. Love you!”

Your boyfriend bids you farewell before ending the call, already missing his voice. A yawn creeps out from you, a sign that you are indeed fatigued and need rest. Leaving the balcony, you close the door and do a final check at your door. Confirmed that it’s locked and secured, you turn off the living room lights and head back to your bedroom to get some shut-eye. 

You shut off and close your laptop on your desk before turning off the lights. Then, you lift the comforter and finally enter the chilly embrace of your bedsheets.  Usually, you’d scroll on your phone for a little bit until you get drowsy enough to fall asleep. Yet — it could be because of the exam you were doing at the diner — you felt way more exhausted than usual and wanted to sleep right away. And you did just that: closed your eyes, listened to the calming rhythm of your breaths, and soon drifted into an anticipated slumber.

….Three Hours Later….

The next time you open your eyes, you’re not in the room you left yourself in — let alone the bed. 

Instead, you find yourself somewhere cold and dark. Your bed is nowhere in sight, just a lone chair facing you. There are no windows, no desks, just you and this chair with a sole overhead light that almost blinds you when you slowly get up. 

The change of scenery throws you off as one thought after another picks up the pace of confusion. Where am I? What is this place? This has to be a sick dream of mine…Wait a minute. You look down to find your pajamas are shriveled and torn up, pieces of the material scattered all over where you’re lying on the cold floor. Also, what the fuck!? You can’t seem to move your hands and feet, noticing that there’s some rope restricting your limbs from moving freely from one another. No matter how hard you try, squirming does little to no help, yet it confirms that this is not a dream.

What the absolute fuck is going on right now!? It was an appropriate question for this perplexing situation, not knowing where to pick up from to start picking clues as to why you’re here. Better yet, who brought you here?

“Ah, look who’s awake.”

You turn to the sound of a door opening and closing; the direction it came from makes it hard to register the distance of whoever was speaking to you. However, that doesn’t matter because you can hear footsteps approaching you and a figure stepping into the light. And when the face finally comes to your field of vision, your blood shifts into an immediate icy cold.

Standing to you by the chair was a man in a tight black shirt that exhibited his muscular arms and physique way too perfectly, harboring dark and baggy pants. But those weren’t the features that had your breath hitch. No, no. The man before you had raven hair with the length stopped to his ears and strands that covered his brows. They did not even try concealing the striking green eyes that looked straight at you. And the familiar scar at the right of his lip put everything together for you — the mugshot that Shoko showed me, the inmate that escaped prison…!

Toji Fushiguro, in the flesh, takes a seat on the chair with his legs spread while putting on black gloves. He notices your look of realization and smirks; you don’t like how his scar is rooted up with the motion. “Y’re a pretty heavy sleeper, ya know that. But I guess that made bringing you here a lil’ simple.” 

A tiny bit of confidence prompts you to speak with the man. “Whe–Where am I?”

“C’mon now, little girl,” your stomach churns when he scoffs at you. He brings up a hand to help him as he cracks his neck. God, why is he so jacked!!? “Y’re supposed to be smart, right? You know that’s the wrong question to ask me.” 

Okay then, think, Y/n, think… ”…Why did you kidnap me? Is it for money? Because I don’t have much—“ The palm of Toji’s hand faces you to halt you from speaking more, making your nervousness dwell even further. 

“For one, you should really consider locking your balcony door when y’re done using it.” There are not enough words to describe the mental facepalm you gave yourself. “If we wanted to run y’r pockets, we woulda done so earlier.” He casually admits to you. “But that’s not why we brought ya here, so he’ll explain it to ya.”

He? Wait, wait, we??

The other mugshot hits you like a flash before you hear the door open and close again. Of course, Toji isn’t the only one on the run right now. There was another guy with salmon-colored hair and tattoos. The other figure, now wearing a black tank tee and ripped black jeans, came from behind Toji. Your stomach drops to the floor when your eyes land on the prominent black tattoo on his nose — now seeing that he has way more on his face, shoulders, arms, and wrists. The scene from the diner replays until your brain can’t keep up. It was him, no doubt about it.

“Well, well. Did the sleeping beauty finally get their rest?” Sukuna Ryōmen, looks just as [if not more] dangerous as Toji. He stuffs his hand into the back of his jeans pocket. “Listen here, I’ll be asking you some questions, and I expect nothing but honest answers. Got that?” 

You don’t know what possessed you to ask the question. You being scared shitless right now should’ve prevented you from doing so. And yet, you ask, “And if I don’t?”

It happened way too fast; your eyes couldn’t even process it happening. But one moment, the salmon-haired criminal was standing in front of you beside Toji. The next, you feel someone crouched behind you with the cold feeling of something barely piercing your skin. Your eyes widen, and you don’t dare move a single hair. Toji shakes his head at you, the smirk on his face still present. Now you can guess who had fun cutting up your PJs.

“I don’t think you wanna know the answer to that question.” He says it so close to your ear that you could’ve nearly fainted. Sukuna then moves the knife to scrape the side of your neck. “And don’t you ever think you’re in a position to ask me questions. Use that college brain of yours, brat.” 

You gulp — a risky move when you have a sharp object to your neck — and nod. Satisfied, the pink-haired man removes the knife from your proximity and stands right up. “At least you follow things quickly.” He says while walking back to where he stood prior. “Now, question one: do you know a kid named Kento Nanami?” 

The mention of your boyfriend’s name hits you like whiplash. Kento? What do they want with him!?

“…Yes, I do.”

“Good. Next question,” You chew the inside of your lip before he asks you the following. “Where does he live?”

Your body almost shuts down when he says the final word. No. No, no, no! Absolutely not! “I can’t tell you that.”

“Tch, just when you were doin’ so good.” Sukuna sucks his teeth. “And why the hell not?”

“Because I don’t want you hurting him.”

He barks a laugh. “You don’t even know what we’ll do to him! Damn, talk about a loyal dog.” 

The insult sparked a flame in you. It was a small one, but a flame nonetheless. “Why the hell do you want to know anyway? It’s not like he knows you any—Hrckk!”

“What the hell did I say about you asking questions, huh.” A hurried hand meets your throat, black nails digging into your skin as his grip gets unbearably tight. You attempt to keep a stern face despite choking for some air, but you’d be lying that the pain wasn’t getting to your head.

“Alright, Kuna, let ‘em go.” You almost forgot about Toji sitting on the chair until he spoke up. With a displeased click of the tongue, Sukuna releases you and throws you to the cold, hard floor. “For your information, princess, that kid does know us.”

You’re coughing up a storm, but you still listen. Your eyes are watery, and your throat pulses. “Hic…Ack, what—What are you talking about?”

Toji continues. “That little friend of y’rs is the reason why we were behind bars for three years. Fuckin’ kid saw us break into a house in his neighborhood and called the cops on us. For the longest time, we’ve thought about getting out of those damn cells and coming back to rip that lil’ fucker limb from limb. Maybe ransack his whole home and then some.” 

“And now that we are out here,” Sukuna chimes in. “We plan on doing just that. We were sitting right behind you at the diner and heard the brown-haired chick say his name, meaning he had to be around this county. And when he heard that fucking square had a little girlfriend, who better to introduce ourselves and point us the way than you.” 

So much information hits you all at once that you’re not given enough time to process it properly. Nanami called the cops on these guys? Where was that piece of information on the phone call!!? Three years ago, it must’ve happened before the start of freshman year. And then there’s the matter of these murders trying to kill him — the love of your life! 

You immediately try to weigh your options: you could give them a fake address, but that would lead them back to you and have you killed instead. And Nanami doesn’t live at home right now; he’s on campus with you and everyone else. So, sharing these two his home address will just have his family killed in his place! Oh, you wouldn’t handle that guilt; you just couldn’t!!

“So, what’ll it be, little girl?” Toji’s voice snaps you from your rampant thoughts. “You can be a cute girlfriend and be loyal, and we’ll just kill you right here, right now. Or, you give us an address, we’ll put you back to sleep, and you’ll never see from us ever again.” 

Those two options were far from what you wanted to do. You would never want to jeopardize your poor boyfriend’s life and those around him for being a model citizen, especially for these assholes! There had to be a way, something you could do!

“Please, don’t hurt him!” The ropes on your hands and feet have you shuffle to look at the two men from the dirty ground. “He didn’t do anything wrong. Please just spare him!”

“No-can-do, brat.” Sukuna comes down to your level once more, yanking your shirt — or whatever’s left of it, your bra practically out for the whole world to see — to lift your upper body. “Nothing to ease a vengeful spirit than taking care of the problem, right? So do us a favor, will ya.” 

Tears are fighting your control to fall, your body trembling. You’re scared, so so frightened. But most of all, you’ll do what you can to make sure your “golden boy” stands tall for you. “Please, I’ll do anything! Anything you want, I’ll do it! So, please!!” 

Sukuna opens his mouth to bite back, but no words come out. Actually, his expression resorts back to a neutral tone. He then turns to Toji, who looks at him with a quirked brow. There’s nothing but silence between the two, a silent conversation between the two killers that you have no choice but to stay quiet for. And you jerk when the two focus back on you. Sukuna then finally says something.

“Anything, huh?” It’s the worst when he sneers at you. Such a devious man. 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“Tch. Fucking brat.” Sukuna sucks his teeth before he snatches your chin with a rough vigor, forcing your teary eyes to face him. And it doesn’t help that you now have a gun pointed at your temple. “This is your warning. You better do this right, or you’ll be the first to get a gift with your boyfriend’s head all minced up. Now, use that mouth. Properly.”

Never in your wildest dreams did you ever think you’d end up here. You stood on your knees and hands on the concrete floor, your mouth occupied with Sukuna’s cock, propelling your face to and fro to meet the base. Why the handgun to your head? According to the salmon-haired man, he said: “Try to fight, run, or bite our dicks off, then this whole mag is getting emptied.” So, you’re literally giving the fellatio of your life. And judging by the grunts coming from Sukuna, it seems you’re doing a decent job keeping him going. 

As for the other one, Toji, his hands grabbing onto your asscheeks from beneath should answer that. “C’mon, baby, sit on my face. I don’t bite…” you can tell he has the biggest grin on his face saying that, has you hesitant to follow orders. Regardless, you gently sway your ass down to sit on his face. But impatience gets the best of him before he pulls you down himself, his nose abruptly hitting your clitoris. You jolt despite his hands keeping you on him, forced to feel his tongue and mouth indulging on your wet folds.

So there you sit, bare and nude, for the men to use you as they see fit. Whatever piece of your clothes were torn off you to be fully exposed for them. This is what you choose to do for the sake of your boyfriend: giving yourself off for the night. 

Oh, if Shoko could see you now. Sucking off one of the exact murderers you two were talking about at the diner while the other eats you out? You know you’ll never hear the end of it from her if — by some miracle — she finds out! And you’ll hold onto that miracle for as long as you can. 

“…Fuuuck, hnngh! It’s been a minute since I had my dick on something tight,” Sukuna comments while putting his free hand on your head. His thrusts increase to have your tongue bathe the underside of his dick, and he sighs at you choking when the tip suddenly hits your uvula. “Heh, that’s right. Keep those tears coming, pet…You seem to be enjoying yourself there, Fushiguro. This broad taste that fucking good—Ohhh shit, fucking shit…”

You can feel Toji’s lips curve into a smile from down under, he gives your labia and clit a slow and antagonizing lick before responding to his partner in crime. “Mmmm, man. It’s been a while since I had to do this. Crazy how this princess got with a square like that kid. Wonder if he makes ‘em feel good like this.” And then he returns to your clit to give it a harsh suck. 

Your body continues to be used like a toy. Your jaw loosens to oblige Sukuna’s girth that’s currently hitting the back of your throat every time your lips meet the pubes of his pelvis. His ruts dial-up, and you ball your fists with the constant oral abuse on your face. Drool runs down your chin with every shove of his length, practically choking you with his dick. And the commotion between your leaking vulva and Toji doesn’t go unnoticed either; motherfuker’s tongue is relentless, making sure every crevice and part of your pussy is familiar with him. And the sounds of him slurping your essence are so lewd, so erotic for your ears that you think they’re bound to explode on you. 

“—Ahhh, damn, I’m gonna cum,” Oh, God. Your eyes open to look at Sukuna’s expression, nothing but pure enjoyment looking at your pitiful look. “You’re cute looking all pathetic taking my cock like this, whore—Mmmph!! Shiiiit, keep your head like that.” He grabs your head as his thrusts speed up to an irregular pace, your throat and face becoming numb. Your whimpers are muffled, and tears streak down your cheeks. His groans of pleasure fill the room, and before you know it, his load is released down to the depths of your throat. You’re stuck taking it, mewling on the shaft still in your mouth until he’s finished. 

He removes you when he is, his cock slathered in your saliva and still rock hard. You gawk at it, amazed that you could fit it in your mouth. And you hate to admit this, but it has you wondering what Toji’s is like. 

Speaking of, with a foggy mind, you peer down to see Toji finally done eating your cunt out. “Ya taste good, you know that.” He licks his lips provocately with a smile. You open your mouth to say something, but he cuts you off. “You ready fr’ me now?” He cocks his chin up, and you turn to see what he’s talking about, only to be met with the pinkish-red tip of his sprung erect cock. If you didn’t think you’d be able to have Sukuna’s in your mouth, you’re going to need a diety’s grace to see what you can do with Toji’s. “Heh, think I’m too big fr’ you? How the hell is Kento handling a piece like you?”

“S–Shut up, stop bringing him up!” You shout at him, tired of being reminded of the love of your life whom you’re betraying right now. All for his sake, but still…

He chuckles at your reaction. “Little girl got spark, huh. Fine then, be a doll and put it in yourself.” 

Cold sweat slides from your brow. Me? I’ve gotta put that shit in on my own!? But you have to. You know you do. So, with anxiousness pooling in your stomach, you bring your ass up and use your hand to align his cock to your wet cunt. 

It takes a lot of mental motivation for you to continue, but slowly and surely, you push the folds of your cunt onto his glans. The pain you experience makes it excruciating to bear, but with steady breaths, you push the tip in with every exhale. And when it finally enters your vulva, a gasp erupts from your puffy lips and a hiss from the man with the scarred lip. “Mmmm, slow down, baby, slow it down…” That was probably the only words he’s ever said that you could trust, so you anchor your ass down, taking in every inch of his length with his hands guiding your ass down. When you reach the base, you give yourself a few seconds to adjust to his girth within your velvety walls. “Fuck, ya feel so nice and tight, princess.”

“Is that so?” Sukuna walks from behind. “Can’t wait for me to have a go.” You couldn’t even comprehend the meaning of that sentence because the salmon-haired one kicked your back. You are now mounted on Toji completely, the two of you facing each other while Sukuna crouches behind your ass. “Get ready, I’m putting it in.”

“Huh?” Wait, both at the same time!? “Ho–Hold on, I’ve never done it in my ass bef—“

“Doesn’t sound like a problem to me; guess I’ll be the first then,” he shuts down your argument and then bends down to use his fingers and spit to ease your asshole. It feels so gross and repulsive that you could puke right now. Not that it would matter to Sukuna because he’s already set on doing it — his fore and middle finger pushing in and out of your anus. When he feels you’ve loosened up, he’ll remove his digits and substitute them with his cock. 

And he doesn’t warn you either, fucking bastard; he nudges his dick in his own countdown with no regard to how you’re feeling. Gripping onto the raven-haired man’s black shirt, Sukuna’s cock puts you through pain worth traumatizing, evoking screams that scratch your throat until he gets the whole thing in your ass. Nanami would never put you through this much pain. Never!

“Aww, y’re making the pretty girl cry,” Toji teases condescendingly, chuckling at the sight of you burying your head in his chest to shield the embarrassment. 

Sukuna hums while grinding his hips to your ass, a tiny bit of blood painting his shaft. “Hmph, good, makes my enjoyment worthwhile. Now,” you shriek with the sudden snap of his hips to your ass. “Let’s get this show started.”

When Sukuna moves, Toji follows right after, and you’re left to fend for yourself in this unsteady tempo from both your holes. You start seeing stars from the unusual stimulation, and your mind and vision become so blurry that it hurts to think. Hell, it hurts to try and concentrate on one dick at a time! One is currently scraping the wells of your walls in a way that your slit clenches around him, while the other churns your insides from the back that almost takes your breath away. More drool and tears seep into the black shirt you use to disguise yourself from them. This shit is already humiliating as is!

“C’mon now, baby. Show me that pretty face of y’rs.” Of course, Toji uses one hand to nudge your head to look at him. Your face is such a wet and hot mess, the sweat on your body making you sticky. The attempt to make sentences is beyond you, relying on moans and choked sobs to express your disorganized emotions. “There ya are. Good fuckin’ girl.”

Toji then takes your plump lips with his, his hand snaking to the back of your head to deepen the kiss. It was one thing letting them use your cunt and ass as they see fit; now, they dare to kiss you in a time like this. Oh, this is the absolute worst! How can you speak to Nanami ever again after this!? These lips are now sullied by the lips and cock of other men. You can’t ever go back and say that you were his, and it’s because of these assholes!!

…And what’s worse, you were starting to find enjoyment in what you were doing, sinking into Toji’s kiss and moaning into his scarred lips.

“Haahh…Mmmph…Damn, this slut is so fucking tight.” Sukuna watches your back glisten in the light while your ass quaked under his unstable momentum. He sneers before slapping your asscheek, resulting in a rushed moan and a twitch from your pussy. Toji breaks the kiss. “Hey, keep doing that. Think they like it.” 

With devilish glee, the tattooed other doesn’t hold back. He gives you another smack to the ass, and more loud purrs and shrieks fill the space between you three. Fast ruts to your soaping slit and ass coincide with the strikes to your butt, catching you off guard and leaving a stinging sensation every time. 

It’s apparent now that your hips start to move on their own, riding out your own high while preparing for your orgasm that’s climbing up. And the raven-haired man notices as he puts your hand on your aching buttcheeks. “Goin somewhere, dollface?” 

Oh, for fuck’s sake, let me come already!! “—Ahhnn, ooohhhh!! I’m about to cummm—I’m gonna break—Eeyahhh!!!

“That so?” You want to wipe that smirk off his stupid, dumb, handsome face. “Then go ahead and get dirty, princess. Ring us up.”

Your arousal staggers up when both of their thrusts fall into a unity, the tender spots of your gummy walls from your ass and cunt being hit and abused prompt more ecstatic moans and your head pounding with every jab. Almost there, almost! Please, please, I want it!! And you are finally given what you want; your release crashes into you in a hard swoop, the shocks crawling up your body while your holes contract around both men’s cocks. Your brain falls into an erotic trance; you only care about the euphoric sensations tingling around your body. Dizziness overtakes you, and your head descends back on Toji’s chest.

“Hmph, you really a pathetic pet.” Sukuna grinds his pelvis into your sensitive ass. The aftershocks from your release still make your body react to their movements. “Chasing for your own orgasm, huh. We outta fuck that selfishness right out of you, damn brat…”

You don’t say anything — more like you don’t have the energy to. Your ass and chasm are too stuffed to keep your mind active, and your eyelids feel too heavy to keep up. It probably was from all that crying and screaming. All you want to do is go back to sleep in your bed at your cozy apartment. But that must be asking for too much. Just please end this nightmare…

Kenty…Please forgive me, I’m so sorry….

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

You can’t remember how sleep found you that night. But your eyes open to the ray of sunshine that peaks through the binds of your bedroom. Wait, my bedroom!?

You shoot up from your bed, the soft comforter and sheets peeling off your skin, and the cool air from the air conditioning welcomes you back to your personal space. Everything untouched, everything where it’s supposed to be — where you’re supposed to be.

A deep breath is the first thing you do when you wake up, following a long exhale. Was I dreaming? You would’ve accepted that delusion had you not looked down to realize that your figure was covered with one of your oversized shirts, remembering that your old pajamas were cut and torn up. Flashes of last night return to haunt you, and shivers travel down your spine from realizing what transpired at those ungodly hours. You quickly check your sheets for any stains — Thank God, none. Funny how a pair of serial killing assholes have the decency to clean up your body. 

And then a sudden feeling of dread crawls up after hearing your phone vibrating on your nightstand. You hurry to check the screen to find out it was a text message from Nanami. It’s a Saturday, 9 a.m. He’d usually be sleeping in until noon. Curious, you unlock your phone to check what your boyfriend is texting you about.

Recent Message from: ♡ my bby nanamiii ♡

Hey, Y/n. Hope you slept well and everything’s okay. I’m coming from Geto’s place after picking up Haibara, who is going through the worst hangover right now. He said he wants to see you and that you make the best meals for his hangovers. I don’t want to intrude if you’re not up for guests, so please tell me so I can take him somewhere else. But otherwise, we’ll be there at around 30-45 mins. Let’s just relax this weekend, okay?

Reading the text as you fall in love with him all over again. After what you’ve gone through, knowing that he’s safe and sound from any trouble, all you want right now is to be around him and hold him close. To be with him and forget about everything that’s happened. 

You send a heartwarming reply saying you’ll be waiting for the two of them. Then, you remove yourself from the bed and stretch out your fatigued muscles. Ugh, I should probably shower before Nananmi gets here…

However, before you lift your shirt and head for the bathroom, you notice a glass of water and a bag full of pills. Huh…I definitely didn’t have that there when I went to sleep before I was taken. And next to the glass was a folded piece of paper. Curiosity got the best of you this morning as you picked up the material to read its contents. 

And this is where you knew your life was changing, for better or worse. Your legs give out, making you fall to your knees with a shaky breath, the hairs of your body standing, and your heart on the verge of leaping out of your mouth. What you read crushed your whole being, leaving you cold in this world — worse than the autumn breeze.

Yo, thanks for the great time last night. Keep that up, and your pretty boytoy will keep standing. Here’s water and birth control, and keep that bag safe. Wouldn’t wanna end up losing it for the next time we fuck you dumb. See ya later, pet.

SR + TF

♱ 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2023 – reblogs + comments are appreciated wholeheartedly <3 header art by rororgi mogera + dividers by the amazing @/cafekitsune!!

[lovelyghst]

ex-boyfriend simon riley making you admit you still love him if you wanna cum <3

he can be such a jerk sometimes! calling you up one evening, claiming he was just wanting to check in on you and how you know how overbearing protective he can be sometimes, acting surprised when you snapped at him barely after his greeting.

“what has you so frustrated, hm, dove?… christ, can practically feel you seethin’ through the screen.”

you bit your tongue and gave him the truth over the phone; how he shouldn’t be calling you without warning like this considering you’ve broken up, and it’s inappropriate to be labeling you those sweet pet names you unfortunately and unknowingly still adore deep down.

how you don’t appreciate his abrasive bluntness, then again, he should know very well that you never have liked that part about him.

you told him the truth, though you couldn’t be entirely honest with him, in the sense of how fucking needy you’ve become with his absence. for touch and care, proximity and security, and all that.

but you are over him, undoubtedly, and you let him know that.

“yeah, baby, whatever you say…

…bet you rub that little cunt raw every night thinkin’ve me.”

and that shut you up quick.

he hummed in understanding, like your silence was readable.

“poor girl prob’ly hasn’t had any proper attention since i’ve been gone… shame such a pretty thing has to be so neglected, eh?”

butterflies invaded your tummy at the compliment, and you cursed yourself for your hasty, blind acceptance of it. but you can't blame yourself; what girl wouldn’t at least begin to crumble at that voice?

“i’m right, yeah?” he taunted, and it almost made you sick when you caught yourself rubbing your thighs together at his meanness.

“c’mon, sweetheart… you know you can be honest wi’ me.”

and god, was his cocky tone so infuriating; you wanted to reach through the phone and slap his smug face straight for overstepping your relationship’s boundaries so blatantly, and with such a deeply rooted nonchalance in his voice that always had you heated and wet.

“say the word, ‘nd i’ll come over and fuck you right now.”

…which is why you had eventually asked him oh, so nicely:

“please..?”

you could practically hear the shit-eating grin on his face, followed by the faint noises of boots hitting hardwood floor and then the clicking of a door’s lock, the obnoxious ringing of keys clanging together.

“just give me ten minutes, doll.”

and now, as he bullies and buries his cock deep in your warm cunt, reaching all those sweet spots you or another man could never even come close to, you can’t really think much of his misbehavior.

truthfully, you can’t think much of anything at all, at the moment.

he had teased you prior to finally managing his way inside you, for god knows how long. his mouth, his fingers, his cockhead; all had brought you to the edge rather quickly, over and over after each other, but he was yet to give you that final push.

he puts his full body’s weight on you, strong pecs pressed up against your heaving, sensitive tits, and his stubble tickling your neck unceasingly. you can’t stop squirming and writhing beneath him, and his hot groans right up against your skin aren’t helping, either.

it’s always been a feat taking his cock, being crammed in your precious cunt almost every night when you two were together, but now it’s been weeks, and you nearly forgot just how big he was.

you missed it, admittedly. all of it; the veins and ridges, the unforgiving stretch. the slight twinge of pain he always hushed with his fingertips pressing your swollen, little clit, or a calloused thumb shoved between your puffy lips to suck on and drool over to distract yourself.

you missed his stamina, his libido. most striking of all, his selflessness in the entire act. he’s a soldier, he serves you right. most times.

“fuckin’ christ, sweetheart… missed this tight, messy thing wrapped ‘round my cock… practically stranglin’ me ‘n with no remorse, eh?”

shit, and you missed his dirty talk most of all.

“gonna fill this pretty, little pussy… keep ‘er happy all night, make up for lost time with my girl.” he wraps his hand gently around your jaw, making your eyes meet his. “you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

you nod frantically, swallow as best you can, before sucking in a breath. “yeah— yes, please, si… i-i want it really bad… please.”

he kisses your lips with a smile, and then all over the side of your face, up to your forehead. he just can’t seem to stop kissing you.

“tell me, sweetheart. y’wanna cum, too?”

“i do, si—! i really, really do- fuck, please?” you beg and beg, and as much as it turns him on, digs at his heart to just give in, he sticks to his guns and merely adds:

“then say the words, pretty girl,” he coos, making you whimper in frustration. “that’s it, y’know what i wanna hear.”

you huff a whine in response, albeit your breath is strangled when he doesn’t halt his movements for even a second.

you really, really don’t want to give him the satisfaction.

he’s nearly panting himself, big chest and even bigger shoulders rolling upwards with every thrust. “y’ain’t cummin’ til i hear you say it, baby. c’mon, now. jus' admit it, that you still love me.”

he buries his cock to the very hilt, taking your slackened jaw tighter in his hand as he watches your eyes grow even hazier from his pelvis rubbing up against your vulnerable, needy clit. the stern look he gives you tells you he's serious about his last statement, but you'll later swear you sensed a bit of sadness, even despair in his expression.

“i love—” you choke on your own breath, desperate to sputter out the words. “i love you, si…”

and he practically has hearts in his eyes. “you mean it?”

“yes—! yes i do, i promise i still love you, please,” you spill, sounding closer to a temper tantrum than anything. “just lemme cum, please, si… really need it, please, i-i’ve been good...”

he hums lowly, contented, satisfied for once. as if those three words themselves — i love you — are the ones actually stroking his fucking cock. his ego maybe, you’d think, but jesus.

if you knew just how badly off he was beforehand, you never would’ve let him get this cocky and in control.

“love you too, sweetheart.” he kisses your puffed out lips, wipes a tear you hadn’t even noticed was trickling down your cheekbone. “always been my good, patient girl, haven’t ya?”

you nod once more, pinched brows and bleary eyes doubling in severity at his soft tone. simon praising you and being so, so uncharacteristically sweet has always made you fawn after more, even now. especially now.

“tha’s right, baby, you’re my good girl… now do me a favor and cum on my cock for me, yeah? lemme feel every last bit of ya.”

he ultimately resumes moving inside you, and it makes you wonder when he ever even stopped. your brain shuts off when he snakes a hand between your bodies, smoothing over your tummy before his middle and ring fingers quickly find your tortured, little bud. pressing hard, making you writhe with oversensitivity.

he works you over the edge diligently, and embarrassingly fast on your part, taking into account just how long he had edged you for. the sight and sweet noises you make are a dream; a reality he awfully missed, and something no other girl could compete with.

"that's it... easy, sweetheart," he coos softly.

he gives you a moment to come down from your high, softly palming your throbbing cunt to assist in grounding you, but you're barely able to finish catching your breath before he's doing it all over again! resuming flicking at your clit, rubbing you harshly and overstimming you enough to make you fruitlessly jolt and cry out beneath him.

he frowns down at you, damn-near condescending. "again, for me?"

you twitch and moan relentlessly as he gradually coaxes another orgasm from your tuckered body, his cockhead hitting that part deep enough inside you to make you see stars, his hard abdomen pressed against your tummy making the pressure of it all skyrocket tenfold.

the sensation of you finishing around his length once more has him barreling into his own orgasm, and soon fucking his pent up cum deep into your cunt with a few hard thrusts and a grumbled, broken groan right at your temple.

endless praises spill from his lips as everything becomes a blur for you; from the moment he's pulling out of your used cunt—crawling down and giving it and your pretty tits a couple sloppy kisses before briskly redressing himself—to being coddled in bed and squished between his muscular arms and torso.

he holds you so close to him that it makes you wonder why, or even how you could ever turn your back to it. he truly makes you feel like a spoiled doll in this sort of space. a doll with shaky legs, ruined makeup, and half a conscious.

"remind me why we broke up again?" he chimes.

you groan aloud, burying your face somehow further in his chest. "shut up, simon."

he laughs softly, pestering you with even more quick kisses, one after another to the crown of your skull. large hands rubbing up and down your back, moving to knead at your ass and thighs for a short moment. he just loves touching you so much.

“c’mon, pretty girl. let’s go get you cleaned up,” he mutters with an exhale. "how's a hot bath sound?"

you have no time to interject, other than a displeased pout and shake of your head, before you’re being hoisted up on your wobbly legs, then swept up and carried to your restroom when you couldn’t even make it three steps before your knees began to buckle on you.

you’re dizzy, utterly dazed and half asleep as he bathes you. making sure you don’t lift a finger as he works, treating you as nothing less than a princess. your loosened muscles somehow melt even more with his precise touch and strength, and you remember just how much you love being turned utterly numb and dependent on him.

you’re pretty sure you fell asleep the moment you were wrapped in a warm towel, pulled into the strong embrace of his meaty arms, but something he said moments beforehand had stuck with you.

“hey,” he whispered, soapy hand turning you to face him. he leaned in and kissed the area between your brows. “i’ll be better this time.”

“you promise?” you mumbled. your head fell atop your knees, arms wrapped around your legs and keeping them close to your body.

your extended pinky finger made him chuckle a bit, and he quickly looped his own around yours. solidifying his words. “promise.”

[aceyalonso]

a winners celebration - LANDO NORRIS

pairing : lando norris x best friend!reader

summary : win celebrations look a little different for lando norris this time around

warnings/notes : swearing, drinking, smut, unprotected sex (please use a condom!), overstimulation, fingering, hair pulling, oral (both!receiving), praise kink, use of "baby" and "good girl", pussydrunk!lando lowkey, 69, dacryphilia

word count : 5.3k

a/n : i miss race weekends | there's a lot more plot to this compared to the previous days

main masterlist | kinktober masterlist

September 22, 2024 - 10:36 PM

Lando was riding a high of adrenaline and joy as the checkered flag waved at the finish line, signaling his victory at the Singapore Grand Prix. His team swarmed around him, celebrating and congratulating him for the hard-earned win, but it was the person waiting in the pit stands that caught his eye.

Y/n stood there, smiling and waving, watching Lando's success. He couldn't help but grin wider, seeing his best friend's proud expression. He knew that she had been there cheering him on, supporting him every step of the way.

Lando quickly shook off the other team members, making his way over to where Y/n stood. He walked with a slight swagger, still riding the high of the race win. Once he reached his friend, he flashed a cocky smirk, before enveloping her in a tight hug.

"Told you I'd win." He murmured jokingly, pulling back to look Y/n in the eye.

Y/n laughed, returning the hug and rolling their eyes. "Yeah, yeah. You're so full of yourself." She teased playfully, punching him lightly in the arm.

Lando just chuckled, shrugging. "Hey, can you blame me? I just won the damn race. I feel like I could take on the world right now."

She chuckled at his boastful statement, shaking her head in amusement. "More like your ego could take on the world. Careful, your head might not fit through the doors anymore if it gets any bigger."

He gasped in mock offense. "Hey, my head is the perfect size, thank you very much." Lando protested jokingly, running a hand through his hair. "Besides, you love my ego and you know it."

Y/n rolled her eyes again, but couldn't help but smile. "Yeah, yeah. Your ego is just so charming, how could I resist." She replied sarcastically, pretending to swoon.

Lando looked at Y/n apologetically. "I hate to cut this short, but I gotta go give some interviews and stuff. But I'll meet you in the hotel lobby in a bit, and we'll go out and celebrate. Sound good?"

She nodded, understanding. "Yeah, no worries. Go do your press stuff." Y/n said with a smile. "I'll see you in a bit in the lobby."

Lando nodded, already turning to walk away when he suddenly stopped and turned back, a mischievous grin on his face. He leaned in, placing a quick kiss on Y/n's cheek before realizing what he'd just done.

He froze, realizing how he may have crossed a line. He quickly blurted out a "thank you" and turned away, heading off to do his interviews while leaving Y/n shocked and confused by the unexpected display of affection.

Y/n was left standing there, feeling her cheek where Lando had kissed her before walking away. They were both shocked and confused by his actions, unsure of what to make of it.

Y/n took a moment to compose herself, shaking her head to snap out of the daze and heading back to the hotel. As she walked, she couldn't stop thinking about the kiss on the cheek. Did it mean something, or was it just a spontaneous act in the heat of the moment? Y/n wasn't sure, but the thought of it made her chest flutter.

September 22, 2024 - 11:43 PM

An hour or so later, Y/n was waiting in the hotel lobby, just as they had agreed upon. She was sitting on a plush couch in the lobby, scrolling through her phone, when suddenly, they heard a familiar voice say, "Hey, there you are."

Y/n looked up from her phone to see Lando strolling toward her, looking more casual now that he wasn't in his race suit. He was wearing a simple shirt and jeans, his hair tousled and messy from the helmet. He gave her a charming grin as he approached.

"Sorry to keep you waiting. The interviews took longer than I thought they would." He said, sitting down next to Y/n on the couch.

"It's all good," Y/n replied with a smile. "At least you're free now, and we can go out and celebrate."

Lando leaned back on the couch, stretching his arms above his head. "Yeah, I'm all yours now. So, what's the plan for the night?"

Y/n stood up, a mischievous gleam in her eye. "Alright, we're going out for drinks. I know a great bar nearby that has the best cocktails. Sound good?"

Lando groaned as she grabbed his wrist, pulling him up from the couch. "Hey, can a guy get a little break after winning a Grand Prix? I just sat down." He protested jokingly, feigning resistance.

Y/n just laughed, not releasing her grip on his wrist. "Nope, no breaks. We're going out to celebrate. Come on, get up." She tugged him lightly, urging him to follow her.

Lando rolled his eyes but couldn't help but smile at her enthusiasm. "Fine, fine. I'll come, but only because you're practically dragging me out the door." He grumbled dramatically.

She smiled as she led Lando out of the hotel, still holding onto his wrist. "And the bar is just a few minutes walk from here, so it's not far," she said, glancing at him. "Plus, some fresh air will do you good. You probably need to clear your head from all those interviews, anyway."

Lando huffed in agreement, secretly enjoying the feeling of her holding onto him. "Yeah, the interviews were exhausting. I swear, they ask the same damn questions every time. I could give all the answers in my sleep at this point."

Y/n chuckled, giving his wrist a playful tug. "Don't get yourself too worked up. We're here to have fun tonight, remember? No thinking about interviews or racing or any of that stuff."

Lando smiled, nodding in agreement. "You're right, you're right. Tonight is all about letting loose and celebrating. No work, no racing… just us and some good drinks."

She grinned at that, and they continued walking until they reached the bar. The place was buzzing with energy, music could be heard from inside, and the neon signs above the door flickered alluringly.

Lando gazed at the bar, seeing the lively atmosphere within. "Looks like this place is popular," he commented, looking down at Y/n. "How did you even find this place, anyway?"

Y/n looked up at Lando, a smile on her lips as she answered his question. "Oh, I came here with Alexandra for a girls' night out a few months ago. It's a pretty cool spot. Good drinks and good music."

Lando raised an eyebrow. "Oh, so you've already been here? And you didn't tell me about it until now?" He feigned indignation, giving her a playful nudge with his elbow.

Y/n shrugged her shoulders, a playful smirk on her face. "Hey, it's not my fault you were partying it up in Ibiza while I was here in Singapore. You weren't exactly available for bar hopping."

Lando chuckled at that, conceding her point. "Alright, alright, fair enough. I was having a blast in Ibiza, but I guess I missed out on some good bars here in Singapore."

Y/n gave Lando a teasing smile before guiding him into the bar. The music inside was even more vibrant, the sound of laughter and conversation filling the air. They found a spot at the bar, and Y/n gestured for Lando to sit down next to her.

Lando took a seat on the barstool next to Y/n, glancing around the place. The bar was dimly lit, with colorful lights casting a warm, inviting glow over everything. People were gathered around, chatting and enjoying their drinks, adding to the lively atmosphere.

Y/n called the bartender over and ordered a cocktail for herself. Then, she turned to Lando and asked, "What do you want to drink? Something strong, or something a bit fancier?"

He contemplated for a moment, leaning against the bar. "Hmm, I'm feeling like something classic tonight. I think I'll go with a gin and tonic."

She nodded, relaying Lando's order to the bartender. "One gin and tonic for the grand prix winner, please," Y/n said with a smile. The bartender nodded and began preparing their orders.

Lando chuckled at Y/n's remark, his ego slightly boosted. "You know, I could get used to you calling me a grand prix winner." He said, a hint of pride in his voice.

Y/n chuckled and rolled her eyes at Lando's comment. "Oh, come on. This isn't your first win, Norris. You've won two races before this one, remember?"

He glanced at Y/n, a sly smile on his lips. "Yeah, but this time it's different. You were actually here to witness my win. And I must say, it felt fucking good."

Y/n smiled mischievously, deciding to tease Lando a bit. She leaned closer to him, a playful glint in her eyes. "Oh, I see what's going on here. You have such a huge crush on me, don't you?"

Lando chuckled at her remark and responded with a hint of banter, "Hey, hey, that was high school, alright? We're adults now. We've moved on and grown past all that silly crush stuff."

Y/n chuckled as well, enjoying their playful banter. "Is that so? So you're saying you don't have a crush on me anymore?" She raised an eyebrow, a knowing smile on her face.

He rolled his eyes, trying to maintain a nonchalant expression. "Yeah, yeah, I've totally moved on. No more silly crushes here." He took a sip of his gin and tonic, clearly not fooling Y/n for a second.

She just smiled, not believing him for a moment. She knew Lando well enough to know that he was just playing tough. "Uh-huh, sure you have. And the moon is made of cheese, right? And pigs can fly."

Lando huffed in mock indignation, trying to keep up his act. "Hey, I'll have you know, I'm a sophisticated man now. I don't have crushes like some high school kid. That's all in the past."

Y/n couldn't help but laugh loudly at Lando's statement. "Oh, because those flings totally prove you're over crushes and completely sophisticated now, right?" She teased with a smirk.

He rolled his eyes but couldn't help but smile at her sarcasm. "Alright, alright, fine. Maybe I've had a few flings and whatnot, but that doesn't prove anything. That's just casual stuff, not the same as having a crush."

She grinned and rolled her eyes again, amused by Lando's attempts to deny his feelings. "Oh, c'mon, finish your drink. We're here here to celebrate and let loose. Let's go out there and dance a little, shall we?"

Lando downed the rest of his gin and tonic with a smirk. "Alright, alright, you've convinced me. Let's go dance." He stood up from his barstool, offering a hand to Y/n.

Y/n took his hand with a smile and hopped off her own barstool, following Lando toward the dance floor of the bar. The music was pumping, the lights were flashing, and a group of people were already dancing on the floor.

He led her into the midst of the dance floor, finding a spot for them to dance. As the music played, they both started swaying and moving to the beat. With each step and move, their bodies would occasionally brush against each other, sending sparks of electricity through them.

She could feel her pulse quickening as she danced with Lando. Their bodies moved in sync with the music, each step bringing them closer together. The atmosphere was electrifying with Lando so close, the heat between them undeniable

Lando's fingers gently traced small circles on her hip, the touch sending shivers down her spine. The music and the people around them seemed to fade into the background as they swayed together, their eyes locked onto each other.

He couldn't resist pulling her even closer, their bodies now pressed against each other. Lando's arm wrapped around her waist, holding her in place as they continued to move to the music. Her scent, the way she felt against him, it was driving him wild.

Lando's lips, hot and needy, began to trail kisses down her neck, his grip on her waist tightening slightly. Everywhere his lips touched sent a rush of heat through her body, a small gasp escaping her lips.

His tongue darted out, tracing a path along her sensitive skin, his lips alternating between soft kisses and lingering nibbles. The sensation was maddening, her mind clouding with desire as he continued his exploration of her neck.

A soft moan escaped Y/n's lips as Lando continued his assault on her neck. Her hands clutched at the fabric of his shirt, her body arching against his. "L-Lando," she gasped softly, her voice filled with a mixture of need and desire.

Y/n's words were barely above a whisper, her voice hoarse with need. "Not here," she repeated, her cheeks flushed with a mix of embarrassment and desire. Lando had the exact same thought running through his mind.

Lando pulled back reluctantly, his lips leaving her neck with a final lingering kiss. He looked at her, his eyes darkened with lust, taking in her flushed cheeks and the way she was gripping his shirt. He knew exactly what she meant, and the same need was burning through him.

"Let's go," Lando murmured, his voice low and rough with desire. He took her hand in his, the skin-to-skin contact sending another jolt of electricity through them.

The two of them practically sprinted out of the bar, the cool night air doing little to cool their ardor. The hotel wasn't far, but the short walk felt like an eternity as their bodies practically ached with desire.

They reached the hotel lobby, their breaths coming out in slightly ragged pants. Lando led Y/n towards the elevator, practically hitting the button to call it impatiently. As they waited, Lando turned towards Y/n, his eyes filled with a mixture of desire and need.

As the elevator doors open, Lando gently shoved Y/n into the elevator with the doors quickly closing behind them. As the elevator began to move upwards, Lando backed her against the wall of the elevator, trapping her between his body and the cold metal.

Lando wasted no time, his lips finding hers in a searing kiss. His hands came up to cup her face, holding her in place as his tongue darted out to trace the seam of her lips.

The kiss grew more intense, and Y/n found herself responding to him. Her body melted against his, her hands gripping his shoulders as a soft moan escaped her lips. "Lando…" she whispered, her voice filled with need.

The elevator continued to ascend, and Y/n's mind was clouded with need. Lando's lips left hers briefly, only to blaze a trail of hot kisses down her neck. She found herself arching against him, whispering "More…please" as her body ached for his touch.

Lando seemed encouraged by her pleading, his hands roaming her body as his lips continued their assault on her neck. He pressed his body against hers, his hips slowly rutting against her in a teasing rhythm.

"Gods, you're driving me crazy," Lando muttered, his voice hoarse with desire. His hands moved lower, cupping her hips and pulling her impossibly close so they were flush against each other.

Lando grudgingly pulled back, reluctantly detaching his mouth from Y/N's neck. The elevator doors opened with a soft 'ding,' signaling they had reached his floor. Lando stepped back, reluctantly removing his hands from her hips.

His eyes burned as he looked at her; her lips slightly swollen, skin flushed, and hair disheveled. The sight of her sent another jolt of need through him, but he managed to resist the urge to pull her back into his arms. Instead, he gestured for her to follow him down the hallway towards his hotel room.

Lando fumbled with the key card, opening the door to his room. He ushered Y/N inside, his eyes never leaving her. The moment the door shut behind them, Lando pushed Y/N against it, and the sound of the door slamming echoed in the quiet room.

His body pressed against hers, trapping her between the cool wood of the door and his warm, solid frame. His hands found her wrists, pinning them above her head as his lips crashed against hers in a passionate, bruising kiss.

Y/n and Lando were both feeling the effects of the alcohol they had consumed earlier that night. Their inhibitions lowered, they found themselves drawn to each other, their bodies pressed close together as they made out passionately against the door.

Y/n's heart raced as Lando's lips met hers, their tongues entwining in a sensual dance. She could feel the heat radiating off his body, his strong hands roaming over her curves. The sensation sent shivers down her spine, and she couldn't help but let out a soft moan.

Lando's hands slid down to Y/n's hips, pulling her even closer to him. He could feel her soft breasts pressing against his chest, and it only fueled his desire for her. His lips trailed down to her neck, leaving a path of hot kisses along her skin.

Y/n tilted her head back, giving Lando better access to her sensitive neck. She could feel his teeth grazing her skin, and it sent a jolt of pleasure through her body. Her hands reached up to tangle in his hair, holding him close as he continued his assault on her senses.

Lando's strong arms easily lifted Y/n, carrying her over to the nearby bed. Her legs instinctively wrapped around his waist as he laid her down gently on the soft mattress. The movement caused her short dress to ride up, revealing the tantalizing sight of her light blue lace panties.

Lando's breath caught in his throat at the erotic view. He drank in the sight of Y/n's long, toned legs and the delicate fabric barely covering her most intimate area. Desire coursed through his veins, his arousal growing with each passing second.

Y/n looked up at Lando with lust-filled eyes, a coy smile playing on her lips. She could see the hunger in his gaze as it roamed over her body. Slowly, teasingly, she reached down and hooked her fingers in the waistband of her panties.

"Do you like what you see, Lando?" Y/n purred, her voice low and seductive. She slowly started to slide the lace down her legs, revealing more of her smooth, creamy skin, before putting them back on teasingly.

Lando knelt before Y/n, his hands gently caressing her thighs as he leaned in to leave a trail of hot kisses along her smooth skin. "God, I fucking love this view," he murmured, his voice husky with desire. "You're so pretty, so perfect."

Y/n shivered with anticipation as Lando's lips moved higher and higher up her thighs. She could feel the heat of his breath on her sensitive skin, and it only heightened her arousal. Her fingers tangled in his hair, guiding him closer to her aching core.

Lando's fingers hooked into the waistband of Y/n's panties, slowly pulling them down and off her legs. He tossed them aside, his eyes feasting on the glistening wetness between her thighs. "You're so wet for me, baby," he growled, his voice thick with lust.

Unable to resist any longer, Lando leaned in and ran his tongue along Y/n's slit, savoring the taste of her arousal. She let out a gasp, her hips bucking against his face as he continued to explore her most intimate area with his tongue.

Y/n's moans grew louder and more frequent as Lando devoured her like a man starved. His tongue delved deep into her dripping folds, lapping up her arousal. He alternated between broad strokes and targeted flicks against her sensitive clit, driving her wild with pleasure.

"Oh god, Lando! Yes, just like that!" Y/n cried out, her voice trembling with ecstasy. Her fingers tightened in his hair, holding him firmly against her as she ground her hips against his face. The obscene sounds of his mouth on her pussy filled the room, mixing with her moans.

Lando groaned against her, the vibrations adding to her pleasure. He could feel her thighs beginning to quiver and tense around his head, signaling her impending release. Determined to bring her over the edge, he redoubled his efforts, sucking hard on her clit as he thrust two fingers deep inside her tight cunt.

Y/n's eyes flew open as she felt Lando's fingers suddenly plunge into her wet heat. She looked down at him, her eyes wide and filled with shock and arousal. Their gazes locked, and the intensity of the moment sent a jolt of electricity through her body.

Lando's fingers pumped in and out of her, curling to hit that special spot inside her that made her see stars. His thumb rubbed circles on her clit, the dual stimulation pushing her closer and closer to the edge.

"Eyes on me, baby," he commanded, his voice muffled against her sensitive flesh. "I want to see your face when you cum."

Y/n's breath came in short, sharp gasps as Lando's fingers worked their magic inside her. She couldn't tear her eyes away from his, the connection between them only heightening her pleasure. Her body tensed, the coil of tension in her lower belly winding tighter and tighter.

Lando could sense her impending orgasm, and he doubled down on his efforts. He sucked hard on her clit, his fingers pumping furiously in and out of her dripping cunt. He wanted to feel her come undone, to watch her face as she lost herself in the throes of passion.

With a final flick of his tongue and a deep thrust of his fingers, Y/n finally reached her breaking point. Her body convulsed, her back arching off the bed as wave after wave of intense pleasure crashed over her. "Lando!" she screamed, his name falling from her lips like a prayer.

Lando continued to work her through her orgasm, his fingers and tongue bringing her down from the high. As her body went limp, he pulled back and looked up at her with a satisfied grin. "That's it, baby."

Lando stood up, his face glistening with Y/n's juices. His eyes were dark with lust, his cock straining against the confines of his pants. With a growl, he quickly stripped off his clothes, tossing them haphazardly on the floor until he stood before her completely naked.

Y/n's gaze roamed over his muscular body, taking in every inch of his tanned skin and hard planes. Her eyes zeroed in on his impressive erection, standing proud and ready. She licked her lips, already craving more of him.

Lando climbed onto the bed, crawling over Y/n's prone form. He hovered above her, his hips nestled between her thighs. "I need to be inside you," he rasped, his voice rough with desire. "I need to feel your tight little pussy wrapped around my cock."

Y/n wrapped her legs around his waist, using her heels to urge him closer. "Then take me," she breathed, her nails raking down his back. "Fuck me hard, Lando. Make me yours."

Lando positioned himself at Y/n's entrance, the head of his cock teasing her slick folds. He could feel the heat emanating from her core, beckoning him to plunge into her depths. With a swift thrust of his hips, he buried himself inside her, groaning at the exquisite sensation of her tight walls enveloping him.

"Oh fuck, you feel amazing," Lando grunted, his hands gripping her hips as he began to move. He set a relentless pace, his thick cock stretching and filling her with each powerful thrust.

Y/n's head fell back, her eyes fluttering closed as she reveled in the feeling of being so thoroughly claimed by Lando. Her nails dug into his shoulders, her hips rising to meet his every stroke. "Yes, just like that!" she cried out, her voice a mix of pleasure and desperation.

Lando's thrusts grew harder and faster, his balls slapping against her ass as he drove into her again and again. He could feel her tightening around him, her body responding to his every move. "You're so fucking tight," he growled, his fingers digging into the flesh of her hips.

Y/n's body tensed, her back arching off the bed as her second orgasm crashed over her. "Oh god, Lando! I'm cumming!" she screamed, her walls clamping down around his throbbing cock.

The sensation of her coming undone around him pushed Lando over the edge. With a final, powerful thrust, he buried himself deep inside her, his cock pulsing as he released his load. But instead of staying inside her, he pulled out at the last moment, his hot seed spurting onto her stomach and breasts.

"Fuck, Y/n," Lando groaned, his hips jerking as he emptied himself onto her. Pulling out, he watched as his cum coated her skin, marking her as his.

Barely giving Y/n a moment to catch her breath, Lando lifted her up. His strong hands gripped her hips, lifting her up and positioning her so that she was straddling his face. "I'm not done with you yet," he growled, his voice muffled against her dripping folds.

Y/n gasped as she felt Lando's tongue delve into her sensitive cunt, his lips and teeth nipping at her swollen clit. Her hands braced against the headboard, her body already trembling with renewed arousal.

Lando's hands gripped her ass, spreading her open for him as he devoured her like a man possessed. He alternated between long, slow licks and quick flicks of his tongue, driving her wild with pleasure.

"Oh fuck, Lando!" Y/n cried out, her hips grinding against his face. She could feel another orgasm building, the coil of tension in her belly winding tighter and tighter.

Y/n's eyes drifted down to Lando's cock, still rock hard and glistening with their combined juices. A wicked grin spread across her face as she leaned down, her breasts pressing against his thighs as she brought her lips to the tip of his member.

She placed a soft kiss on the head, her tongue darting out to lap up the drops of precum. Lando groaned against her pussy, the vibrations sending shockwaves of pleasure through her body. Encouraged by his reaction, Y/n took him into her mouth, her lips stretching around his girth.

In the 69 position, they pleasured each other with reckless abandon. Y/n bobbed her head up and down his shaft, taking him deeper into her throat with each pass. Lando's tongue delved into her folds, lapping up her sweet nectar as he brought her closer and closer to the edge.

As Lando's tongue worked its magic on Y/n's sensitive clit, she could feel her orgasm building rapidly. Her hips bucked against his face, her moans muffled by his thick cock filling her mouth. She took him deeper, her throat constricting around him as she gagged on his length.

Lando's own pleasure mounted, his cock twitching in Y/n's mouth as he approached his climax. He could feel her tightening around him, her body trembling with the force of her impending release. With a final, powerful thrust of his tongue, he sent her over the edge.

Y/n's scream of ecstasy was cut off by Lando's cock as he erupted in her mouth. Her eyes watered, tears streaming down her face as she struggled to swallow his hot seed. The sensation of his cum hitting the back of her throat only intensified her own orgasm, her body shaking uncontrollably as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over her.

Lando's insatiable desire for Y/n showed no signs of abating. As they both came down from their intense orgasms, he pulled her off his body, repositioning her so that she was straddling him. He leaned back against the headboard, his hands gripping her hips as he guided her onto his still-hard cock.

"Ride me, baby," Lando growled, his voice thick with lust. "I want to feel you bouncing on my dick."

Y/n's body was still trembling from the aftershocks of her orgasm, her eyes glazed over with a mix of pleasure and exhaustion. She placed her hands on his chest for balance, slowly lowering herself onto his throbbing member. A soft gasp escaped her lips as he stretched her once again, filling her completely.

She began to move, her hips rising and falling in a steady rhythm. Lando's hands roamed over her body, squeezing her breasts and pinching her nipples as she rode him. The combination of pain and pleasure only served to heighten her arousal, her walls clenching around him with each thrust.

Y/n's movements became more erratic, her body struggling to keep up with the relentless pace Lando had set. "I can't... I can't take anymore," she whimpered, her voice barely above a whisper.

Lando's grip on her hips tightened, his fingers digging into her soft flesh. "Be a good girl f' me," he commanded, his voice low and authoritative. "I know you can take another round."

Tears streamed down Y/n's face as she tried to comply with his demands. Her body felt like it was on fire, every nerve ending screaming for relief. But the thought of letting Lando down was too much to bear. She gritted her teeth, pushing through the pain and exhaustion as she continued to ride him.

Lando could sense her struggle, but he refused to relent. He wanted to push her to her limits, to see just how much she could take. His cock throbbed inside her, the sensation of her tight walls clenching around him driving him closer to the edge.

Despite her exhaustion, Y/n found the strength to continue riding Lando's cock. Her hips moved in a steady rhythm, rising and falling as she took him deep inside her. The pain and pleasure mixed together, creating a heady cocktail that left her dizzy with sensation.

Lando's hands roamed over her body, squeezing and kneading her soft flesh. He pinched her nipples, twisting them slightly as he watched her face contort with a mix of pain and pleasure. "That's it, baby," he growled, his voice low and rough. "Take it all for me."

Y/n's moans grew louder, her body trembling with the effort of keeping up with Lando's relentless pace. She could feel another orgasm building, the coil of tension in her belly winding tighter and tighter.

Lando could sense her impending release, and he doubled his efforts. His hips bucked up to meet her downward thrusts, his cock hitting that special spot inside her that made her see stars. "Cum for me, Y/n," he demanded, his voice thick with lust.

Y/n's body tensed, her back arching as she felt her orgasm approaching. She gritted her teeth, pushing herself to the limit as she rode Lando's cock with increasing fervor. Her walls began to flutter around him, signaling her imminent release.

"Oh god, Lando!" she cried out, her voice raw with emotion. "I'm going to cum!"

Lando's grip on her hips tightened, his fingers digging into her flesh as he thrust up into her with powerful strokes. "That's it, baby," he growled, his own release building. "Let go for me. Cum all over my cock."

With a final, desperate thrust, Y/n reached her breaking point. Her body convulsed, her walls clamping down around Lando's throbbing member as she came undone. The sensation of her tightening around him was too much for Lando to bear, and with a guttural groan, he erupted inside her, his hot seed filling her with each powerful pulse.

As they both came down from their intense orgasms, Lando leaned forward, capturing Y/n's lips in a passionate kiss. His hands caressed her face, his thumbs wiping away the tears that still clung to her lashes. "You did so good, baby," he murmured against her lips. "I'm so proud of you."

Y/n's body went limp, her head resting on Lando's shoulder as she tried to catch her breath. She could feel his cock still inside her, softening but not yet fully withdrawn. The sensation was comforting, a reminder of the incredible pleasure they had just shared.

Lando continued to pepper her face with gentle kisses, his lips trailing along her jawline and down her neck. "You're amazing," he whispered, his voice filled with admiration and affection.

taglist

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[viviaj]

its 6:57 in the morning and you can vaguely feel kuroo’s cock pressing against you.

with his hand pressed against your soft stomach, he silently presses against your back. you’re not really awake, but you’re not exactly asleep either.

kuroo loves morning sex, he likes to feel you and hear your whiny sounds as your eyes struggle to adjust to the early light— as they adjust to him intruding your peaceful sleep.

he’s a pervert, he thinks for a moment; wanting to press his fingers into you while you’re barely awake. he thinks he should feel guilty, but you always react so dubiously that he can’t help himself.

with his cock still rubbing against you methodically, he reaches for your little shorts and slips his hand down to your soft sweet cunt.

he runs his hand over your thighs, and every part where you connect with him. it’s not enough.

he’s slipping a hand between your folds, gently feeling you. there was no intent to get you off; just a pure moment of wanting to feel you and touch you. he slips a single finger into you and its him groaning into your shoulder.

“baby?” he murmurs against you and a small noise comes from the back of your throat, “you’re so soft,” you can hear the smile in his voice.

“i have to, baby,” he’s sitting up and gently prying your legs apart, “i have to put my cock in you baby, okay?”

he’s not really asking, more so just letting you know. he’s not wearing a condom.

your body twitches up into him as he enters you, just letting himself feel around you. your hands move up to his arms as you murmur that he “shouldn’t”.

“i don’t see you making much of an effort to stop me,” and you just let yourself whine, eyes pressed closed as kuroo is everywhere on you.

“but we shouldn’t, kuroo, we can’t,” he thinks it’s funny when you act like this because as soon as he takes his cock out, you’ll whine and groan, just like you are now. you’re so predictable.

so he does that. he moves down to your neck, kissing you lightly over, and over again. “just the tip, please. please?” you’re begging, just like he knew you would. he loves you.

“oh? just the tip?” you nod quickly, “okay baby, just the tip.”

it is not just the tip.

with one hand, he’s holding your legs up; giving himself the world-class view of watching his cock disappear into your pretty pussy.

you’re breathtaking like this. smooth, and sweet and pretty. he can’t help himself, and how could you even blame him? not when he’s so close to you, and so sweet to you as he’s smiling down at your batting eyes.

“what is it? talk to me, baby,” no words come out, just a soft hiccup coming from your lips. “you don’t have to do anything, you’ve done enough,” his eyes soften with the softness in his smile; which do not correspond to the way hes moving in and out of you.

kuroo and you have never fucked without a condom before, and it shows. it feels so intensely different, with the knowledge that this is something you shouldn’t be doing, it’s explosive.

“gonna cum in you, yeah? just let me take care of you.”

“kuroo, we- we can’t, we shouldn’t,” you’re pathetically murmuring, hips moving up towards him. everything you’re saying is contradicting your actions, it’s silly.

“okay baby, yeah, i won’t, dont worry, ” kuroo lies. with your face buried into his neck, you mouth at the skin there, unable to say much.

he tells you how good you feel, how your cunt is so soft and he just can’t help it.

“you’re so warm,” you whine into him, the feeling of him cumming in you foreign, it doesn’t feel right.

kuroo reaches down to kiss you wherever he can manage to reach you, his arms keeping you where you are.

“good morning.”

[sceletaflores]

Being a professional masseur for players and taking care of our boy art.

Hes just so sad and so pretty that you just giving head to make him feel better 😔

Plot twist: he falls in love with you because duh? Hot+sex=you being promoted pookie, you are now the donaldsons elite employes!!!!!!

Baby, show me where it hurts...

pairing: art donaldson x fem!reader

summary: you never intended on becoming a "celebrity" massage therapist. you just wanted to be a massage therapist, the whole celebrity thing just sort of happened, you blame cali for that. but the novelty of your job wore off long ago, you hardly blink at the clients on your table nowadays. that is until tashi duncan calls you and absolutely fucks everything up

— or: art donaldson needs a massage therapist…

contains: 18+ SMUT MDNI, oral (m!receiving), oral (fem!receiving), p in v, fingering (fem!receiving), angst? maybe? could this be considered angst?, slight age gap, no tashi duncan erasure because i don't stand for that, cheating but not really cause tashi knows, she always knows, she is an all seeing eye, and she kind of orchestrates it, SOOOOO much plot, like way too much i'm sorry, art being sad and tired, art also being kinda pathetic a little bit, unprofessional massages, no use of y/n.

word count: 10k+ (someone stop me....pls still read this lmao)

author's note: this ask was blessedly placed in my inbox and it was all i’ve thought about since. this is my first big fic since my mike schmidt days so hopefully i'm not rusty! i've seen this damn cursed hell movie ten times, so hopefully i do it justice. i'm also still struggling sooo much with art and tashi as characters so please bear with me if they aren't movie accurate i'm trying my best. okay. thank you. hope you love it! mwah xoxo.

You don't get starstruck often, not anymore at least. The clients that find their way onto your table are just that in your eyes, clients. You don't see them as big time "celebrities”. Just men and women who need your professional help.

That being said, you almost dropped your phone the first time the Tashi Duncan called you.

It was a normal work day for you, spent buried in paperwork and training a new secretary. You're folding the steam room towels on your lunch break when your phone rings. No caller ID, you answer it anyways.

"Hello, you've reached Lush Retreat Med Spa," you rattle off into your phone, placing it between your ear and shoulder to continue folding. "How can we help you?"

"This is Tashi Duncan calling for Art Donaldson, we've heard great things about you and were hoping to schedule an appointment."

The towel drops from your hands, your mouth falling open in shock. You reach up to tightly grip your phone, not wanting to embarrass yourself by dropping your phone with Tashi fucking Duncan on the end of the line.

Of course you know who she is, but doesn't everyone? The tennis prodigy from Stanford who was on top of the world when a tragic knee injury stole everything from her in a single second. You absolutely idolized her when you were in high school and playing tennis competitively. You watched all the recorded matches you could get your hands on, wore your DUNCANATOR shirts to practice constantly, only bought the tennis rackets she used. You had her fucking posters plastered on the walls of your old bedroom for Christ's sake.

That was until you, ironically, shattered your wrist in a car accident and had to hang up the racket and pleated skirts forever. Just like her.

Now, Tashi Duncan and Art Donaldson are California royalty. An unfairly beautiful couple living what seems to be the dream. You'd never kept up much with Art's career like you did Tashi's, but you follow them both on Instagram and you see his face on billboards all over the city almost daily so you can assume it was fruitful. It may help him that he's extremely easy on the eyes, or "super fucking hot!" in your coworkers words.

"Hello?" Her voice ringing out from the tiny speaker ripped you out of your thoughts and back into reality.

"Y-yes, sorry," you cringe internally at yourself, stuttering over your words like a loser. You force yourself to sound professional when you speak again, "We'd love to help you any way we can. Do you have a certain time and date in mind already?"

"We're not home right now, we were thinking next Thursday. Around four." There's no question mark on the end of her sentence, you know that she isn't asking you, she's telling you. You don't even bother to check the schedule before you're answering.

"We will be free that day. I'll go ahead and put you in our system." you rush over to the front desk computer and open the calendar, thankfully you are actually free for Thursday. "I'm assuming you know our location?" you ask as you type in the appointment details, ignoring how your fingers shake ever so slightly as you type Tashi into the slot.

"Actually," Tashi's voice has a different tone to it when she speaks again, it’s something you can’t quite place, your fingers slow down slightly as you listen, "we wanted to make this a home visit."

You stop typing completely, brows furrowed in confusion as you stare at your computer screen. "I'm so sorry, Mrs. Donaldson but we don't do at home appointments…per our policy." you reply meekly, almost surprised that you're denying her.

"Duncan, actually,” she corrects you nonchalantly, you don’t have time to unpack that before she’s speaking again. “We did read that on your website, but we'd hope you might make an exception. You wouldn't need to bring much. We have our own table." Her tone isn't harsh or impolite, just firm and certain, like she knows you'll give in to her.

You do.

"Well," you bite your lip as you wrestle internally with yourself, torn between what you want to do and what you should do. "Okay, we can do that for you."

"Great. I'll send you the address. See you then." She hangs up without saying goodbye.

You plant your phone next to you and stare at the filled out appointment slot taking up your computer screen, processing what just happened. You're going to Tashi Duncan's house. To give her hot pro-tennis player husband a massage. In their house.

"What the fuck."

SIX DAYS LATER...

The walk up to The Donaldson's huge mansion on a mountain has your stomach turning in on itself. All week you were a ball of nervous energy just floating around your office, trying to find anything to distract you from your upcoming appointment. Now that it's here, you feel you may have bitten off more than you could chew.

You hardly got any sleep last night, tossing and turning in your bed for hours before you gave up, barging into your building's gym to try and sweat your nerves out. When that didn't work you just retreated back to your apartment and got ready.

You try not to think about why it took you so long to get ready, longer than most work mornings. Taking more time in the shower, more time doing your hair, more time doing your makeup.

You even choose an outfit you'd hardly ever wear in front of regular clientele. A matching white polo set, a skirt in place of shorts. You tell yourself that you just want to look good, who wants to look like a mess in front of Tashi Duncan?

Your hands white-knuckle the steering wheel of your car on the drive over. You couldn’t even play any music, the noise in your head already too loud as it was, only cranking up the AC and silently following the crisp voice of your GPS reading off the directions Tashi sent you.

The closer you get to the door the more you want to turn and run down the insanely long driveway, get back in your car and haul ass home without ever looking back.

You don't because you're a professional, or at least that's what you keep telling yourself.

Your hand shakes as you ring their doorbell, hearing it echo back at you from the inside. You only wait a few seconds before the large door swings open and there she is.

Tashi Duncan is every bit as beautiful in person as she is splashed across the pages of magazines and blown up twenty feet on billboards. She looks so effortlessly classy in her Ralph Lauren sweater and flowy black dress pants.

Your name falls from her lips, and all the blood rushes to your ears. Her silky voice wraps around each syllable with an enticing heat that makes you weak in the knees. You feel sixteen years old all over again, standing at the woman who basically molded you into who you are today. It's a dizzying sensation, the rush of nostalgia and emotions flooding in like an avalanche. The memories you have locked away in your brain of the countless late night practices, the hundreds of hours spent on the court, the trophies and ribbons littering your moms basement collecting dust, the refusal to give up and pushing your body past its own limits because you wanted to be just like her. You wanted to be Tashi Duncan, and when you catch yourself nervously rubbing your thumb over the scar spanning your right wrist, you guess in some sick twisted way that you kind of are.

"So glad you could make it," she greets breezily, stepping to the side to let you in. “We were worried you’d get lost.”

The house is, of course, beautiful on the inside. Tall ceilings, big fireplace, a beautiful staircase leading to the second floor. There’s toys strewn messily along the living room floor, the TV mounted on the wall is paused on ESPN.

You hope you don’t look as crazy as you feel taking in the space, taking in the fact that Tashi is standing right in front of you. 

“No, the directions were very helpful,” your voice only slightly wavers as you respond, you count that as a win, “it’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Donalds–uh–Duncan.” You cringe at your fumble, but try to power through by extending Tashi your hand.

She watches you for a second, sharp eyes flicking over your body quickly like she’s inspecting you. It makes your cheeks feel warm as you struggle to not squirm underneath her gaze. Finally, she takes your hand in hers and gives it a firm shake. You ignore the way her touch makes your palm burn.

“Art should already be in the massage room, it’s in the pool house,” Tashi says, gesturing to the huge windows in the living room showing off a lavish underground pool with a smaller building situated next to it, “I have to take a phone call here in a few minutes so I trust you’ll find your way there.”

You nod slowly, adjusting the strap of your supply bag on your shoulder. Tashi doesn't even pause walking further into the house as she speaks to you, heels clicking with each step as she makes her way to the large staircase in the middle of the room. There’s still no question marks tacked on to the end of her sentences, just like over the phone. 

“It’s just through that door, first room on the left. I told him to leave the door open for you.” She continues, reaching the stairs and making her way up slowly. She tosses her head over her shoulder to make eye contact with you again. “He’s been complaining about his shoulder acting up. The right one, it’s what needs the most attention. He serves with that arm, we need it at a hundred.” she fires off casually, like she’s recited this information before.

You go to speak but her phone ringing cuts you off, echoing off the house's crisp white walls. “Thank you for coming to see us, it was nice meeting you.” Tashi says politely, giving you one final once over before she’s answering her phone and disappearing up the stairs.

“It was nice meeting you too…” you trail off quietly, fully caught off guard by whatever the hell that was. Out of every single time you’d fantasized about what meeting Tashi Duncan would be like, none of them were quite like this. At least it’s over you figure, and you even managed to not make a complete fool of yourself.

You hold onto that tiny win as you walk through the living room doors and outside, making your way to the pool house like Tashi instructed. The entrance is unlocked as you step inside, thankfully you spot the cracked door a little ways in front of you. 

The sound of your footsteps are loud as you make your way down the short hallway, tennis shoes making small thump sounds against the concrete floor. You pause for just a second outside the cracked door, taking a deep breath before pushing it open and stepping inside. The room is empty, the only things inside are some shelves lined with various essential oils and lotions, and an expensive looking massage table in the center. You muse over the fact that their table looks a little better than the ones in your own spa, no wonder they wanted a home visit.

The room is well lit as you walk around, dim in a way that promotes relaxation. The soft, ambient lighting bathes the room in a gentle, golden glow, complemented by the flicker of aromatic candles placed strategically around the space. You wonder who lit them, Tashi? Or maybe Art? You let out a small laugh at the idea of Tashi Duncan and Art Donaldson fawning over the room before you showed up, setting up candles and mood lighting to make it feel nicer, less clinical.

You’re probably just reading too much into it. You always urge clients to ask for anything that will make them feel more comfortable, apparently Art just likes eucalyptus sage candles and mood lighting. It has nothing to do with you. 

Your name being said from somewhere behind you rips you out of your own mind. You whirl around, and find yourself face to face with six time Grand Slam Champion, Tashi Duncan’s super hot husband, Art Donaldson. And he’s only wearing a fucking towel.

“Hello,” he greets with a kind smile, though it doesn’t quite reach his eyes, “it’s nice to finally meet you, thank you so much for taking the time to come out here.” 

Art is already worlds different from Tashi, or that’s what you’re inferring after spending less than five minutes with each of them. It’s still extremely apparent, Tashi has an almost overpowering presence to her, everything about her commands respect and she knows that. She uses that to her advantage, she likes it like that.

The man standing in front of you is nothing like that. The Art Donaldson in front of you doesn’t seem like some big shot tennis player with more impressive stats than you could wrap your head around. You’ve come to know that a few pro-sports guys like to swing their dicks around, bragging about their booming careers non-stop during a session. Yet everything about Art is unassuming as he stands in the doorway like he’s trying to make himself look smaller. 

“Hi, Mr. Donaldson,” you’re not sure if it's appropriate to offer a man wearing a towel dangerously low on his hips your hand, you decide against it. “It’s no trouble really, I’m happy to help.”

“Please, call me Art.” The tone of his voice makes you want to shiver, smooth and warm like honey. 

You try your best not to stare, but it’s so hard to ignore the toned expanse of Art’s body when it’s right there. He’s all broad shoulders, firm pecs, sculpted legs, with a cut Adonis belt. He’s like a marble statue, made in Michelangelo's perfect image.

Your eyes trail back up his body, lingering on his chest before rising up to his face. You’re mortified to see he’s staring right back at you, effectively catching you in the act. Your cheeks burn as you tear your gaze away, looking at anything and everything other than him. In your panic, you don’t notice the way his eyes rake over you in the same way.

“Okay, Art,” you say a little breathlessly, tightening your grip on the strap of your bag. “It’s nice to meet you. Mrs. Duncan let me know about your major problem areas, I’ll be sure to focus on them.” Involuntarily bringing up Tashi has your stomach clenching up in guilt, you just got done ogling her husband's body. You hope he takes the silent cue you're giving him to get on the damn table so you can start the massage and get the hell out of here.

Art nods silently, walking over to the table and moving to lie down on his stomach. You busy yourself with prepping your oils, taking them out of your bag and setting them on a small side table next to the massage bed uncapped for easy access. You can’t help but sneak glances at the rippling muscle of Art’s back as he shifts, his skin looks soft and is littered with freckles. You don’t miss the hiss he lets out when he lays his weight on his shoulder.

You usually don’t speak much during appointments, only engaging in conversation when your client initiates it, but you feel the need to fill the silence between you and Art. The quiet atmosphere makes everything seem far too intimate, and sure on some level it always is, but this feels different.

“How’d you hurt it? Your shoulder. If you don’t mind me asking.” you ask once he’s settled, placing your fingertips to the middle of his right shoulder, feeling around for any tension. Art tenses slightly at your touch, taking a sharp breath. You guess you should have warned him, you open your mouth to apologize but he lets out a small breath and relaxes onto the table again.

Art sighs, his voice tinged with weariness. "It was, uh, during a match. I overextended trying to return a serve. Haven't been able to move it properly since."

You nod, hands starting to move in slow, deliberate circles across the muscle. “That sounds about right. Most people don’t realize how brutal tennis is to the body, injuries are common,” you pointedly try to ignore the flashbacks of your wrist failing to swing a racket properly after you healed from your accident, flashbacks of watching as the bone pierced through your skin. “Sounds like you might need to take it easy for a while.” you continue, trying to keep the conversation light.

Art chuckled, though it was devoid of real humor. "Yeah, I’ve been playing a lot lately. Guess I pushed myself too hard." He winces slightly as you work on a particularly tight knot, shoulder tensing under your hands. 

You pause, your hands stilling momentarily as you catch the underlying tension in Art's voice. "The season’s almost over, maybe it's time to give yourself a break, take some time to rest and recuperate." you remark softly, your tone gentle yet concerned.

Art's gaze flickers to yours, a flicker of vulnerability shining through. "I wish I could," he admits, his voice heavy, "But it's hard to step away, especially when it feels like it's all I have that’s still keeping everything together."

Your heart clenches at the raw honesty in his words. He’s completely silent afterwards, you wonder if he’s regretting telling you something like that, like maybe it just fell out of his mouth before he could stop it. Without a word, you continue to knead away the tension in his muscles, offering a silent gesture of support.

As you continue to work, hands skillfully moving over Art’s shoulder, you can’t help but notice the weariness in Art's demeanor. His presence feels heavy, almost broken, as if the physical pain was just a small part of what he was carrying. You feel a pang of sympathy for him. You can feel the weight of struggles pressing down on him, the way his shoulders sag slightly even under your careful touch.

“I can feel the tension here," you say gently, applying a little more pressure,  "Just try to relax.” 

With each knead and press, you remind yourself of your role. You’re here to help him heal, and that was all that mattered. But as your hands move over his warm skin, you can’t shake the feeling that this wasn’t what you had anticipated, something that made your heart race with both excitement and anxiety. You were so worried about meeting Tashi you completely forgot about Art. It’s a different story now as your hands explore the smooth planes of his back to the steady sound of his breathing.

"You're really good at this," Art says after a while, his voice a bit lighter. 

You smile, a genuine one, the first real smile you’ve had since you got here. “Thanks. I’d hope so after all this time.”

Art lets out a small chuckle muffled by the table, it makes your stomach flutter. “How did you get into this? Massage therapy seems interesting.”

You laugh but it’s a bitter sound, moving your hands down to focus lower on Art’s shoulder. You try not to think about your tennis career, even after all this time you struggle with the memories despite all the good it brought you. “That’s a long story.” you mutter under your breath, even to your own ears you sound resentful.

“I’ve got time.” It’s a simple reply, but it’s so honest. Like Art’s genuinely interested in you, in getting to know you. It makes you feel dizzy.

“I, um,” you worry your lip between your teeth, working your hands harder over Art’s back. “I actually used to play tennis. When I was in high school.”

Art makes an interested noise, shifting under your hands as he moves his head to lay on the side of the table so he could look up at you. “No shit?” he looks more shocked than anything. 

You nod, humming in confirmation as you finally move onto his other shoulder. “Yup, I was pretty serious about it back then, until I got injured.” You don’t meet Art’s gaze, but you can see how his face falls in your peripheral vision. You kind of want to laugh at how ironic this moment is, you wonder if Art’s thinking about Tashi’s knee. You know he was at the match, you’ve seen the blurry footage of Tashi Duncan’s fall from grace, watched Art vault over the net to get to her.

“That’s awful. I’m sorry.” He sounds like he means it.

“It’s okay, wasn't like it was my fault or anything,” you say, finally meeting his eyes with a rueful smile and raising your right wrist to show him your scar. “I got hit by a drunk driver coming home late from practice one night. Nasty fracture, bone went straight through.” You hope your voice is coming out as nonchalant as you’re trying to make it sound.

Art's eyes widen in disbelief as he takes in your scar, a mixture of shock and sympathy evident on his face. "Wow, that's...terrible," he murmurs, his voice tinged with compassion.

You shrug, the memories still vivid despite the passage of time. "It was tough, it was awful actually. All the physical therapy in the world couldn’t get a racket back in my hand,” you confess softly, fingers tracing the outline of the scar absentmindedly again. “But it also forced me to reevaluate things, in a way. It made me realize that life doesn't always go according to plan.” You see Tashi’s knee buckling in your mind's eye. “When I finally realized that I could take all the hate and all the anger I was feeling and channel it into something good, something like massage therapy, I never looked back."

You immediately regret over-sharing, feeling silly telling Art your sob story, but when you meet his eye again, he has an odd look on his face. His expression is soft as he looks up at you through long lashes, understanding and empathy swimming in the blue of his eyes.

"Well, silver linings, huh?" he says after a few seconds, there’s traces of a smile playing on his lips. You let out a small laugh, nodding your head slightly.

"Yeah," you agree, a small smile on your lips. "Silver linings." 

As the conversation fades into a comfortable silence, you and Art find yourselves locked in a silent exchange, your eyes meeting and holding a depth of something you can’t quite pick up on. In that moment, the world around you seems to blur, leaving only the two of you suspended in a shared moment of vulnerability. There's a subtle shift in the air, a silent acknowledgment of the bond that has formed between you, as if you've uncovered a piece of each other.

The shrill ringing of your phone’s alarm pierces through the moment, both you and Art jump at the sudden sound. It’s like a cold bucket of water pouring over your head, washing away whatever just happened between the two of you. The session’s over, you’re done. 

“Okay,” you say a little too loudly, taking your hands off Art's back like his skin could burn you any second. “Looks like we’re all done.” You try to smile but it feels fake, forced, so you turn your back to Art and start capping your oils to shove them back in your bag.

Art’s voice breaks the silence as you pack up, sounding a little less confident than it did earlier. “Uh, my neck has been bothering me too, recently,” he says offhandedly as he sits up, swinging his legs over the edge of the table. “I think I may have slept on it wrong.”

You stop what you’re doing, turning to face Art again, silently cursing him for not just letting you leave. “Do you want me to take a look before I go?” You pray he says no. You should know it won’t be that easy, not with your shit luck.

“If you don’t mind?” His tone is so hopeful and his eyes are so big that your feet are walking towards him before your mind can catch up. 

“Not at all,” you reply, your voice steady despite the tightness in your chest. You step closer, practically between his slightly spread legs, feeling the warmth of his skin even before you touch him. Your fingers brush against his neck, and he shivers slightly, the muscles tight and knotted beneath your touch.

"Just relax," you murmur, trying to maintain any shred of professional demeanor. As you work, you can't help but notice the way his breath hitches, the tension in his body melting away under your skilled hands. The room feels smaller, the air heavier with each passing second.

He closes his eyes, a soft sigh escaping his lips. "That feels amazing," he whispers, and you swallow hard, trying to focus solely on the task at hand. As you work, the intimacy of the moment isn't lost on you, and you can't help but wonder if he feels it too.

Minutes tick by like hours as you work the tense muscle of Art’s neck. You're acutely aware of every sigh, every shift in his body, every subtle reaction to your touch. You finally pull away when you think it’s been enough time, eager to get out of this damn house before you do something you’ll regret.

You didn’t notice how close you really were to Art until you pulled back only to be met with his face mere inches away from yours. Startled by the sudden proximity, you freeze, caught off guard by the intensity of Art's gaze. His eyes, dark and searching, seem to hold a silent question, a silent invitation.

Now, Art’s body is one thing, it’s objectively perfect. He’s a professional athlete, of course it’s perfect. It has to be perfect. It’s his damn face that gets you.

He’s beautiful, beyond beautiful. He looks like he should be splayed across canvas hanging in the Louvre. The dim lighting in the room illuminates his face beautifully, his golden hair haloing around his head makes him look ethereal. Each of his features look as if they were handcrafted by a master sculptor, each contour and line a testament to perfection. His chiseled jawline speaks of strength and determination, while his lips, soft and inviting, seem to beckon you closer with every breath. His eyes are deep pools of ocean blue, though this close you can see a small splash of brown in his left eye you didn’t notice before, swirling with emotions that stir something deep within you. 

Something more shocking than Art’s beauty, is how fucking tired he looks. Lines of exhaustion are etched along his face, subtle but undeniable. The weariness in his eyes speaks volumes, a silent plea for respite from the relentless demands of tennis. And yet, even amidst the exhaustion, there's a flicker of longing. He’s staring at you like he needs you, eyes wide and yearning. His chest rising and failing a little more harshly than it did before, each exhale coming out ragged and sharp.

“Art…” you whisper, heart threatening to beat out of your chest. He’s so warm, the heat emitting off of him makes you want to lean into it. You want to crawl on top of his powerful thighs and bury your face in his chest and never leave. Your hands flex where they’re draped over Art’s neck.

It happens in slow motion, Art’s hand trails up the skin of your thigh as your name falls from his lips like a prayer, and it’s like you’ve been electrocuted. You’re rearing back with a sharp breath, dropping your hands from his neck and taking a couple steps back. 

“It was really nice to- uh to meet you, Art.” you say frantically, swinging your bag firmly over your shoulder and rushing to the door. Art’s still sitting on the table, silently watching you panic. He doesn’t try to stop you. “I hope your shoulder feels better,” is all you say before bursting out the door and speed walking out of the pool house. 

Your heart's racing as you walk through the backyard, hands shaking even through the death grip you have on the strap of your bag. What the hell was that? What the hell was that? Did Art Donaldson just make a pass at you? You must be imagining things. 

The thought rattles around in your mind, refusing to be dismissed. His words, his tone—they seemed to linger in the air, haunting you with their implications. The way he touched you, like he couldn’t help himself. But no, it couldn't be. He was married to Tashi, and besides, he was just being polite, right? You try to convince yourself of that as you make your way back to the house.

As you walk inside, still slightly shaken up, Tashi’s the first thing you see. She’s sitting in the living room, laptop open on the coffee table in front of her. 

“Hey,” she says, sitting up straighter on the coach, “how was it?”

You swallow, urging yourself to calm down. “It was great, he should be seeing some improvement over the next few days.”

Tashi nods her head, seemingly pleased though it doesn’t show on her face. “Could this be a weekly thing, these appointments. He could really use them.” 

No question marks. Motherfucker.

You flounder, stomach dropping. “Weekly? As in every Thursday?”

Tashi’s brow raises, eyes looking over you inquisitively. “Yes, preferably all home visits.”She stands from the couch, taking a couple steps towards you. “We read on your website you take permanent clients, is that not the case anymore.”

You shake your head, eyes wide as they follow her while she walks. “N-no, Mrs. Duncan we do. We could pencil you in if you’re willing to pay monthly for the time slot. Would you like to talk to some of my other employees to work out a rotating schedule?”

Tashi stops a few feet away from you, hands in her pockets. “Actually, we were hoping you’d be the one coming down. The only one.” You blink, her words slam over you like a ton of bricks. Just you, in a room with a half-naked Art. Every single Thursday. That can’t happen, not after what just went down between the two of you.

You can practically hear the warning bells blaring in your mind, urging you to refuse, to put an end to this before it spirals out of control. Yet, there's another voice, quieter but no less insistent, whispering seductive promises of what could be if you were to stay.

Your heart pounds in your chest as you grapple with the conflicting desires warring within you. Tashi's expectant gaze weighs heavily on you, waiting for your response, and you know that whatever decision you make will irrevocably alter the course of things between you and Art. With a shaky breath, you steel yourself, the weight of your choice settling like a stone in your stomach.

"I...I'll do it," you finally say, the words leaving your lips before you can stop them. "I'll make sure to pencil you in for weekly sessions, Mrs. Duncan."

Tashi's lips curve up slightly, satisfied, but beneath the surface you can sense the tension thrumming through the air. You've made your choice, for better or for worse, and now you can only hope that it won't lead to the downfall of everything you've worked so hard to build.

“Wonderful,” she says, gesturing for you to follow her to the front door. You trail behind her like a loyal pet, silently allowing her to drag you wherever she pleases. “Thank you again for coming out, and please,” she pauses with her hand on the doorknob, turning to meet your eye, “call me Tashi.”

"Thank you, Tashi," you murmur softly, the weight of her name feeling foreign on your tongue when you’re actually saying it to her for the first time. "I'll make sure to arrange everything at the office."

Tashi's smile widens, though there's a glint of something unreadable in her eyes. "I look forward to seeing you, then," she says, her tone laced with a hint of anticipation. "And please, if there's anything you need, don't hesitate to reach out."

With a final nod, Tashi opens the front door, the outside world beckoning beyond its threshold. You take a hesitant step forward, the weight of your decision pressing down on your shoulders like a heavy burden. As you step out into the cool evening air, you can't shake the feeling that you've just crossed a line from which there may be no turning back. But for now, all you can do is steel your nerves and hope that you haven't made a huge mistake.

A LITTLE MORE THAN SIX DAYS LATER…

Your sessions with Art continue on. The guilt settling deep in your stomach each time you set foot in the Donaldson/Duncan house also continues. It worsens each time the two of you are alone in that damned massage room. Technically you’ve done nothing wrong, but you know deep in the back of your mind that what you’re doing isn’t normal. Each meeting is a strange mixture of tension and familiarity. When you arrive, Tashi always greets you warmly, her trust in you unwavering. It feels like a dagger each time, twisting deeper and deeper into your conscience. 

Neither of you talk about it, what happened during your session, and Art doesn’t treat you any differently. He still goes out of his way to make polite conversation, asking you about your life, about your business, he even brings up old anecdotes you told him offhandedly. He doesn’t talk about tennis, and he has to know you can keep up in conversation with it since you told him about your history with it, you just assume he doesn’t want to. 

That makes sense, you always think back to the first time he met you. How he brushed off any conversation about his career, how his demeanor changed when he spoke about it. How drained he looked. There was a sadness in his eyes, a weight he carried that seemed to go beyond just a few standard aches and pains. You remember how it struck you then, and it strikes you still, each time you see him.

His shoulder is getting better, you can tell. He can lay on it, or raise it above his head, without wincing. That makes your heart swell, knowing that despite how weird and kind of fucked up everything is, he’s healing. 

The familiar sound of your timer ringing pulls you out of your thoughts. You’re shocked at how fast this appointment flew by, but you could tell as soon as you walked into the massage room to find Art already sitting on the table waiting for you, that something about this session feels different. It’s silly to call it “sensing a bad vibe”, but that’s exactly what you felt entering the room's threshold. 

Art didn’t speak much as you worked, just laying on the table silently after saying hello and asking you about your week. The silence is definitely odd, Art’s not a chatterbox by any means, but he usually keeps some form of conversation flowing. After a while, you start to think it might be something you did, like maybe he’s mad at you. It sounds so stupid in your head, like you’re some poor high school girl getting hung up over a fucking guy giving you the silent treatment.

The only thing more stupid than that is how much it’s actually affecting you. Art has you over analyzing everything you’ve said or done over the last couple visits, you dread that maybe he just came to his senses after all this time. That he finally snapped out of whatever trance he was in and remembered he has a beautiful wife, and that he doesn’t really want you.

“Alright,” you say softly, stepping away from the table, “All done.” As you turn off the timer and gather your thoughts, you can't shake the feeling that something is off. You force yourself to bury it, Art doesn’t owe you an explanation, he doesn’t owe you anything. You aren’t his.

You glance over at him as he slowly sits up, his expression unreadable. "Thank you," he murmurs, his voice barely audible. You offer a small smile in return, trying to squash all the ugly feelings mixing in your stomach. You turn to busy yourself with packing up, feeling a weird sense of déjà vu.

Art’s voice cuts through the silence, sounding weary. “Are we still pretending it didn’t happen?”

It catches you off guard, making you drop the bottle in your hands back onto the table loudly. Your heart races as you turn back to face him, unsure of how to respond. The weight of his words hangs heavy in the air, demanding a response you’re not sure you’re ready to give.

You take a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves. “I...I don’t know,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. “I guess I was hoping we could just…forget about it.”

Art’s eyes search yours, filled with a mixture of longing and uncertainty. “I don’t think I can,” he confesses, his voice tinged with sadness.

The same feelings from that day rush back in your mind, flooding all your senses. It's as if time folds in on itself, bringing you right back to that moment where everything changed. You feel panic clawing its way up your body, fight or flight response waging a war inside of you.

You chose flight, shoving the last bottle in your bag and making a break for the door. Ready to run just like you did back then, run and come back next week with your tail between your legs desperately trying to forget that this ever happened, again. Art’s voice stops you just as you have your hand on the doorknob.

“Please…” he whispers, he sounds so broken, so vulnerable. “Please, don’t run.”

You don’t know what it is, maybe it’s the way he’s looking at you, or the repressed feelings, or your shitty back bone, but whatever it is makes you pause, hand falling off the doorknob to lay limp at your side. You turn back to face him, the raw need in his eyes mirrored by your own emotions. It tugs at your heart, making it impossible to leave. You feel a surge of guilt and hesitation, but the longing in his gaze holds you captive. Slowly, you make your way towards him, taking small slow steps like you could still leave at any minute, but you know you won’t.

You walk until you’re crowding him, standing between his spread legs just like you did all those sessions ago. His eyes are wide, almost disbelieving, like he thought you’d turn around and slam the door on him instead. Which is what you should do, you should walk out that door right now and never step foot in their house again. 

Art whispers your name, his voice a soft caress that sends sparks zapping down your spine. You're close enough to feel his breath fanning over your face, warm and intimate. You inhale, like you’re trying to absorb his words, his essence, his everything. 

His hand takes yours, bringing it up to his chest. He presses it firmly against his pec, right on top of his heart. You can feel the rapid, uneven thumping beneath your palm. His thumb caresses your wrist gently, making goosebumps pebble over your skin.

It’s easy to get lost in Art’s eyes, so you’re shocked to notice something that very quickly grabs your attention. Art’s towel is tented obscenely, hard cock straining against the thick material. You swallow roughly at the sight, feeling the need to touch, to take, to help.

Your knees hit the floor before you fully realize the entire gravity of what you’re doing. You don’t care about any of that anyway, not right now. 

Right now Art Donaldson is swiping his thumb across the scar on your wrist with his big sparkly eyes desperately looking into yours, unashamedly begging for you to touch him. 

Who are you to deny him?

Your hands find the knot of his towel and yank it roughly, ripping it off Art's hips and tossing it aside. His hard cock springs out, slapping up against his stomach enticingly. Your mouth waters at the sight of him, pleased to see he’s perfect all over. 

Art’s cock is long, and thick. He’s big, but in an exciting way, not in an intimidating way. He’s already steadily drooling pre-cum from his soft pink tip, already so hard and you haven’t even touched him yet. You reach up, tracing your finger along the length of him lightly. Art inhales, his eyes fluttering closed as you touch him for the first time. The anticipation in the room is palpable, a heady mix of desire and need that seems to swirl around you both.

You circle your hand around the base of his cock, stroking up and up until your hand bumps into the head, where you start to rub your thumb back and forth gently, spreading the wetness from his pre-cum before sliding your hand back down. Slowly, you lean in, placing a soft kiss on the tip of his cock before taking him into your mouth, savoring the taste of him as he groans deeply, hands gripping the massage table tightly.

“Shit,” he grits out, casting his gaze to the ceiling, chest already heaving raggedly. 

You slide the warmth of your mouth down the shaft of his cock, moaning at the heady taste of him, skin soft and velvety on your tongue. 

“Fuck, your mouth…” Art whispers above you, his words trailing off into a string of breathy moans. You hum in response, working his cock faster to draw out more of those noises. Hollowing your cheeks, you sink down towards the circle of your fist still holding the base of his cock with wet, slippery slurping sounds. Art’s hand lets go of the table, coming up to cup your cheek in a move way too intimate for what the two of you are doing.

You chance a look up, and your heart skips several beats at what you see. Art’s already staring down at you, his face twisted up in pleasure. His pale cheeks are flushed, brows drawn together tightly, plush bottom lip caught between his teeth. All that is enough to make you feel ten feet tall, but that’s not what makes you pause.

It’s his eyes, the way Art’s looking at you.

The look in his eyes is…worshipful. Reverent. Like you’re a celestial being, a divine grace walking among mortals. Not some girl on her knees for a married man in his house’s private fucking massage room.

Yet the longer you hold his gaze, while still working your mouth over his hard cock, you feel something strange stirring inside you. Art’s eyes holding such a longing reverence so intense, it was starting to elevate you to a pedestal of adoration. Of devotion.

Right now Art’s like the sun, burning so brightly you feel you need to look away before he consumes you, but you don’t.

“Please,” Art begs desperately, voice so soft you barely even hear it. There’s tears welling in his eyes, his red rimmed and so so tired looking eyes. It breaks your heart, how could such a wonderful man be reduced to this?

You pull off Art’s cock, hand still pumping firmly over him. He whines at the loss of your mouth, hips bucking up to chase after the warm heat. His tip bumps over your lips as he moves, trailing a thin line of pre-cum across them.

Without breaking eye contact, you speak.

“You’re so good, Art.” 

It’s those four words whispered against the tip of Art's leaking cock that has him coming with a hitched breath and a soft cry. A few bursts of his warm come land over your parted lips before you take the head of his cock back in your mouth to greedily swallow down the rest. 

"Thank you, fuck, thank you...!" Art grates out as his body trembles above you, hand squeezing yours so hard it borders on painful. You know you’re never coming back from this, but you still  squeeze back as hard as you can all the same.

A LITTLE MORE THAN SIX DAYS LATER…

Maybe this is just your life now, fucking the husband of the woman you worshiped like a God for years on end. It’s like you can’t stop, like you’re an addict or something. No matter how disgusting and shameful you feel every time you get home from Art’s appointments, you can’t help but give into him. It’s a twisted dance, a cycle of pleasure and regret that you can’t seem to break. One look into his sad, kicked puppy eyes and you crack. You’ve convinced yourself it's just you reveling in the feeling of being truly wanted for the first time. But deep down, you know it’s more than that. It’s the way he makes you feel alive, the way he looks at you like you’re the only thing that matters in his world.

Art wants you. He needs you. He’s made that more than clear every single visit since you dropped down on your knees for him. The guilt gnaws at you, a constant reminder that you can't escape. Yet, every time you see him, every time he reaches out to you with that desperate need in his eyes, you find yourself powerless to resist. 

You’ve never kissed, not on the lips. Art’s certainly tried, lips seeking yours out as your oiled up fist slips up and down his cock, as you sit on his lap and grind against him until he’s dirtying his towel. You just turn your head every time, letting him trail kisses along your jaw and neck instead somehow feels less real. Kissing Art will make it feel real, you know it will. So you don’t.

Funnily enough, you think things are going well. Maybe even as well as getting a married man off every Thursday can go. You can see a change in Art, in his behavior and the way he holds himself. He smiles more, he laughs more, it’s like he’s giving more of himself to you each time you meet with him. It’s exhilarating, the way your presence has this effect on him, almost as if you’re breathing new life into him.

Art’s newfound lightness is infectious. You find yourself looking forward to Thursdays with an anticipation that borders on impatience. The way he looks at you, the tender touches that linger just a bit longer, the conversations that flow more freely–it all feels like a dream you’re afraid to wake up from. 

You should have known it was too good to be true, that this little world you created in your head was just the calm before the storm.

Everything about this session was normal to start. It’s a little less intense since Art’s shoulder is doing better, now you have free reign over the rest of his body. Greedy hands free to glide over the planes and planes of muscle you’ve become familiar with.

As you work on his lower back, your hands moving in practiced, soothing motions, you notice a subtle rigidity in his muscles. “Everything alright?” you ask, keeping your tone light.

Art hesitates before answering. “Yeah, just…a lot on my mind.”

You frown, “Do you want to talk about it?”

Art stays quiet, still laying silently on the table face down. You stare at the back of his head, like if you stare hard enough you’ll be able to tell what he’s thinking. Taking his silence as not wanting to talk, you continue on. You don’t want to pressure him to confide with you, not when he already has a wife for that.

As your hands continue to move over Art's tense shoulders, he lets out a deep sigh, breaking the silence. "I need you,”  he whispers softly, his voice filled with an unexpected vulnerability. He shifts on the table, leaning up to look you in the eye; his own eyes are watery, lashes clumped together with unshed tears. “It's not just the massages. I need you in my life, no more of this half-assed bullshit. I need all of you.”

You feel your whole world turn upside down in a single second, the distinct feeling of your heart lurching out of your chest and your stomach dropping to your feet. It’s like the walls of the room start moving in on you, caging you in. It makes your chest feel tight, breath coming out in short jagged rasps. Panic grips you, and you violently rip your hands off Art’s body, stumbling back from the massage table.

 "I-I'm sorry, I can't," you stammer, voice choked with emotion, as you turn to flee from the room, not even bothering to grab your stuff. But before you could escape, Art was right behind you, reaching out to catch your wrist, his grip gentle yet firm. "Please don't go, please," he begs, his eyes pleading with you to stay and talk. You wrench your hand free and run out of the room. 

You think you hear Art calling out your name through all the static rushing through your ears, but you’re not sure, and you don’t look back to check. Your feet pound against the tile as you run out of the pool house feeling like you’re about to throw up, or pass out. Art’s confession is the only thing running through your mind. The only thing that’s still clear through your dizzying panic.

You finally start to breathe again when you burst into the house, leaning back against the cool glass of the door to try and relax before you start to spiral. The silence inside is almost oppressive, the only sound the rapid thudding of your heart in your ears. You close your eyes, willing yourself to calm down, to find some semblance of control.

Your name being said grabs your attention, and you open your eyes to find Tashi at the top of the stairs.

“Is everything okay? I heard the door slam.” Her expression is a mix of concern and confusion as she takes a few steps down. You push yourself off the door, you need to leave as soon as possible, before Tashi can reach you and coerce you into staying. 

“Everything's fine!” Your voice sounds shaky despite your best efforts to calm yourself, you’re basically speed walking to the door. “I just, I got a phone call, and I need to leave. Right now. I’m so sorry.”

You don’t even wait for her to reply before you’re yanking the door open and rushing outside. You hope to God that she doesn’t follow you outside. She doesn’t.

You walk, arms wrapped around yourself tightly in a feeble attempt to stop shaking. There are tears burning your eyes and making everything in front of you blurry. The wind whips your hair around your face, stinging your cheeks as you walk further away from the house.

Each step feels heavier, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you try to make sense of the storm inside you. The chaotic weather seems to mock your turmoil, perfectly matching the chaos you feel. You struggle to piece together what just happened, the intensity of Art’s words echoing in your mind.

“I need you.”

His voice had been so raw, so vulnerable, and it scared you. You weren’t ready for that kind of emotion, that kind of responsibility, that kind of guilt. The weight of it had sent you running, and now you’re left grappling with the aftermath.

Fuck.

A LITTLE MORE THAN SIX HOURS LATER…

The drive home was a blur. Rain and wind beating against the windshield nearly the whole time. You’d laugh at how ironic it was, like God’s punishing you with shitty weather, but you’re too busy fighting tears to find the humor in it. 

The dread didn’t set in until you got home, stumbling through the front door on shaky legs until you reached your kitchen where you promptly emptied everything in your stomach into your trash. After you force yourself into the shower to wash the rain, and guilt, off of your skin. You scrub yourself raw, skin pink and sensitive to the touch, like that will somehow erase all that you’ve done.

When you finally step out, the bathroom mirror is fogged, a ghostly reflection staring back at you through the mist. You avoid its gaze, wrapping yourself in a towel and padding through your room to collapse onto your bed. The silence of the house presses in on you, letting your thoughts consume you. 

Art’s words play on a loop inside your head, the look on his face burned to the forefront of your mind. The weight of his confession hung heavy in the air, rocking you with its intensity. Running away had seemed like the only option at the time, a knee-jerk reaction to the overwhelming flood of emotions threatening to engulf you. 

You know you didn’t run from Art because you don’t want him, you ran because there’s nothing you want more. In the aftermath, running felt less like a choice and more like an instinctual response to the storm of emotions threatening to consume you whole since the first day you met him. Every step away from Art was a battle against the gravitational pull of your desires, a struggle against the overwhelming urge to surrender to what you both shared.

The truth is crystal clear: you didn't run from Art because you're devoid of feelings for him. You ran precisely because your heart beats in synchrony with his, because the depth of your longing for him is as boundless as the universe itself. 

Your phone pings from the dresser, you ignore it. A second later, it pings again, and again, and again. You furrow your brows, glaring at your nightstand until you reach over and pick up your phone. It’s an unknown number, but you know who it is.

UNKNOWN NUMBER I need to see you.  Please, I can send a car. It's Art. Tashi isn’t home tonight.

Maybe you’re the worst person in the world, but all the fight leaves your body the second you read Art’s texts. You need to see him as much as he needs to see you. Your fingers type out a response before you can think twice.

Art okay.

You send him your address, jumping out of bed to throw on the first things you see. A black SUV was waiting for you as soon as you got downstairs, just as promised. You climbed in after getting confirmation from the driver, and sat in the backseat quietly as you went down the familiar streets. 

As the house comes into view, you can see the front door’s light is still on, waiting for you. You barely wait for the car to stop before you’re opening the car door and stepping outside. The rain immediately drenches you, seeping through your thin sleep clothes. You take two steps before the front door swings open and Art comes rushing out into the rain. He’s only wearing sleep pants, his bare feet smack wetly on the concrete as he runs to you.

Art stops short of you, hesitating, like he doesn’t know whether to touch you or not. You want him to touch you so bad you’re scared it might kill you. The air between you feels charged, every drop of rain a tiny spark. Finally, Art reaches out, his hand trembling as he brushes a soaked strand of hair from your face. The warmth of his touch sends a shiver down your spine, and you step closer, collapsing into his arms. The rain continues to fall around you, but at this moment, it’s just the two of you.

"Art," you breathe, your voice trembling. "What are we doing?"

He gazes into your eyes, the raw emotion in his expression mirroring your own. "I don't know," he admits, his hands gently sliding down to your shoulders. "But I can't let you go. Not now." His words hang between you, a fragile thread of honesty that binds you together. You can feel the weight of his words, the sincerity in his voice, and it tugs at your heartstrings.

Tears prick at the corners of your eyes as his words sink in. The honesty in his gaze, the desperation in his touch—it all overwhelms you, leaving you breathless. The only thing you can think of, the only thing that feels right, is kissing him. So you do.

You lean closer, your heart pounding in your chest, and gently cup his face in your hands. His eyes widen for a moment, a flicker of surprise mingling with the intensity of his emotions. Then, as if drawn together by an invisible force, your lips meet his.

The kiss is soft at first, tentative and sweet, a question and an answer all at once. His lips are cold and slightly trembling, matching the fluttering in your chest. You can taste the salt of your tears mingling with the sweetness of the moment. Time seems to stand still as you lose yourself in the sensation of his mouth on yours. 

Gradually, the kiss deepens, becoming more urgent and fervent, a silent expression of everything words can’t convey. Art’s arms wrap around you, pulling you closer, his fingers threading through your hair. The heat between you intensifies, both your breath coming faster, mingling as the kiss grows hungrier.

Art’s heartbeat echoes against your chest, you can feel his grip on you getting tighter like he's scared of letting you go. Your hands slide down to his shoulders, your fingers digging into his muscles as you press closer, your bodies molding together. His tongue flicks against your lips, seeking entrance, and you part them eagerly, welcoming him in. The taste of him is intoxicating, a mix of desperation and passion that makes your head spin. A soft moan escapes your lips, and he responds with a low growl, his hands roaming down your back, pulling you impossibly closer. 

“Art,” you say in between kisses, panting into his slick, open mouth. “I need you to fuck me.”

You can feel Art’s whole body shiver, groaning unabashedly into your mouth like he’s dying for it. “I’ve been waiting weeks for you to finally admit that.”

The two of you tear through the house, all tangled limbs and bumbling steps, you trail water all over the floor. Somewhere in the chaos you drop your phone and keys on the large kitchen island. Art refuses to let go of you to walk properly, blindly leading the way so he can keep kissing you breathless.

Art only stops kissing you when you finally make it to his bedroom, pulling away to wrestle the now soaked sleep pants off his legs. You follow by example and peel your shirt off, skin damp and cold but you could care less, not when Art’s pants are pooling at his ankles and he’s throwing his boxers carelessly over his shoulder.

“God,” he breathes out, shaking his head like he can’t believe you're giving him this, “You’re so beautiful.”

The raw honesty in his tone has your cheeks burning, you cast your gaze to the floor instinctually, feeling too overwhelmed by his charged gaze raking over you. You can hear his feet softly padding against the floor, making his way closer. You watch his feet come to a complete stop in front of you, he takes a hold of your chin gently forcing you to look up at him. 

His eyes, intense and unwavering, lock onto yours. “You’re fucking perfect.”

With a gentle push, Art lowers you onto the bed, his weight a comforting presence above you. He tilts your head back and kisses you breathless, one big hand sliding lower and lower on your stomach till he’s got his hand down the front of your shorts, he groans when his hand makes contact with your bare skin. You’d almost forgotten you hadn’t worn any underwear. His hand so close to your aching center has your breath hitching as you kiss, hips bucking up towards his palm.

You reach for his cock, an angry shade red and leaking steadily, but he catches your wrist before you can touch. You meet his eyes confused, but he just shakes his head.

“It’s been about me the whole time, baby. Let me fix that,” he whispers.

You nod your head wordlessly. You wouldn’t dream of denying him, not right now. He smiles, pecking your lips again before he starts to kiss his way downwards. He explores your body with his mouth with such care it has you shaking under every brush his lips. He kisses all down your jaw and neck, taking extra time on your chest to map out the skin of your breasts with his tongue. He circles your right nipple with the tip of his tongue a few times over before he takes it in his mouth, rolling it between his teeth gently. It has your back arching into his mouth, hands scrambling for a purchase on the silk sheets. One long finger slides around your entrance and dips inside, shallow, then deeper, stretching you slowly, carefully, while his other hand rubs your clit with light, gentle touches. “Is this good?” Art asks quietly, voice tinged slightly with insecurity, like you’re not completely unraveling because of him.

“God yes! Yes – fuck! – Art,” you mewl loudly, hips grinding down roughly onto his finger, desperate to take in more of him. You can feel him smile against your skin, pulling off to blow cool air over your hard nipple and repeating it all over again on your left. His finger slides through the wetness collecting in your hole, spreading it to your throbbing clit. He finally sinks a single finger into the warm, tight, heat of your cunt.

Art pulls away from your chest to kiss his way down your stomach, sliding lower and lower on the huge king size mattress, he doesn’t stop the rhythm of his fingers as he peels your shorts down your legs, tossing them aside. A guttural groan leaves his lips at the sight of your slick cunt parting over his fingers, taking them so well. He pitches forward like he can’t help himself, like his lips are magnetically drawn to your cunt, and presses a small kiss to your clit. 

“Fuck!” You squeal and writhe as his finger fucks in and out of you, hands tangling in his messy hair, cheeks flushing at the sound of your leaking cunt squelching against his wrist with each thrust. Art's lips tighten over your clit, sucking for a brief second before he moves back to start laving his tongue over your cunt in careful, slightly clumsy, strokes. The sounds he's making, almost filthy slurping, accompanied by little moans now and then send small vibrations through you that shock your system, making you fist his hair even tighter. 

Art’s lewd noises fill the air, mixing with your own moans to fill the room. His eyes stay closed for the most part, fluttering open every couple seconds to watch you fall apart. Your thighs shake uncontrollably around his head when you make eye contact, threatening to clamp around his ears and keep him there.

A sob tears from your throat when he adds another finger, then he curls them inside you and pulls back and god, shit, shit, fuck, fuck me, god, Art, please fuck me.

“Fuck me Art please fuck me I need it so bad please-” you ramble nonsensically, pulling at Art’s hair desperately. You can feel the warmth starting to pool in your stomach, but you don’t want to come on his tongue, or on his fingers, you want to come with him inside you.

Art lets you drag him up, the bottom half of his face is slick and shiny, drenched in your wetness. He makes his way up your body quickly, hands gripping tightly to your hips, not hesitating to kiss you even as your juices decorate his lips. You kiss back desperately, tasting yourself on his tongue. The head of his cock bumping against your twitching, empty hole has you whining. 

“Fuck me, Art,” you breath hotly, hips canting up needily. “No condom, I’m on the pill. I want you to come inside me. Please, I need it.”

Slowly, he starts to sink in. Feeding you inch by inch torturously slow. He kisses you the whole time, greedily swallowing the moans flowing out of your mouth as he stretches your cunt on his thick cock. You grab at his shoulders like a lifeline, kissing back with everything you have.

“God, you’re so fucking tight,” he says through gritted teeth, hands gripping your hips hard enough that you know you’ll be bruised in the morning. “So fucking perfect for me, such a perfect pussy for my cock.”

“Move.” Is all you can manage to squeak out, nails digging into the meat of his shoulders.

Art starts to move, thrusts slow and gentle, like he’s easing you into it. You’re grateful for it, you’ve never taken anyone as big as him. Slowly, his thrusts speed up, cut hips smacking against the fat of your ass a little rougher than before. You revel in it, pushing your ass back greedily for more more more. From this angle, the thick head of his cock drags against your g-spot perfectly every time he plunges back into your dripping cunt.

“Shit! Right there, don’t stop,” you slur breathlessly, feeling the familiar warmth swirling through your stomach as he fucks you.

“I love you.” Art confesses against your lips, his breath hot and erratic. His sweaty forehead pressed to yours as he pounds in and out of you, the motion both relentless and tender. His eyes are wide open now, so blue and so big and so honest as they bore into yours so intensely it’s suffocating.

It’s soon, it’s way too soon. You’ve barely known each other for a couple months, but you can't deny the warmth spreading through your chest, mingling with the heat of the moment, making everything feel both overwhelming and perfect.

Now that you're here, with Art’s cock fitting so perfectly in the wet heat of your cunt, you can’t believe it took you this long. You love Art. You’ve been in love with Art since the first time he spoke to you. Since the first time he touched you like you were the solution to all his problems.

Art must take your stunned silence as rejection, head falling to rest on your shoulder dejectedly, but his hips don’t slow their rhythm. If anything he speeds up, hips thrusting against you desperately.

“Please, please say it back,” he begs, voice thick with emotion, “Say it back, I need to hear you say it. Please,”

You surge up, wrapping your arms around him as tightly as you can, ankles locking together across his back. Art couldn’t pull out of you if he wanted to, judging from the long whine he lets out, he doesn’t mind.

“I love you, Art” You whisper back, barely audible over the lewd slap of his hips stinging your ass. Art groans so loudly you can feel it reverberating off the sensitive skin of your neck.

Hips speeding up even faster, Art turns his head to catch your lips in a searing kiss. This kiss is different than any of the other ones you’ve shared tonight, full of so much emotion and unspoken words. You swear you feel your heart grow three sizes, almost full and threatening to break out of your chest.

“I’m gonna come, fuck, I’m gonna fucking come,” he breathes between kisses. You can only moan in response, right on the brink of your own orgasm. His hips start to lose their rhythm as he chases it, fucking into you faster and harder.

Art’s cock gives a final twitch inside you before his hips are stilling and he’s coming with a broken moan, unloading everything he has into you. You’re right behind him, vision whiting out as you come, thighs shaking where they’re draped around his hips. 

Art collapses onto you, both of you breathing heavily as you come down from the high of your orgasm’s. You lay like that for a while, heaving and sweaty wrapped up in each other's arms. You feel something slot into place, something that you’ve been missing.

Art’s soft voice pierces through the afterglow, “Will you hold me?”

“Yes,” you whisper back, circling your arms around his shoulders.

…

When you wake up hours later you’re beyond thirsty, dehydrated from all the crying, and maybe from the sex. Art’s head is laying across your bare chest, tousled hair tickling your jaw and arms snug around your waist. He looks so peaceful, eyes closed with his long lashes fanning over his cheeks. The sound of his steady breathing is almost enough to lull you right back to sleep. You smile softly, running your hands through his hair slowly. Savoring how at peace he looks, so different from the battered, broken man you met.

You slip out of his arms as carefully as possible, not wanting to wake him. Rolling out of bed to search half-assedly for your clothes in the darkness. You can’t find your shirt, only your underwear and shorts. You notice a red shirt strewn over the dresser next to the bed, illuminated by the moonlight pouring through the blinds. You pick it up without thinking, it's soft in your hands, the fabric thin and worn down. You toss it on before padding out of the bedroom.

You get a little lost in your thoughts as you make your way to the kitchen, Art loves you.

The thought has you biting back a giddy smile. Art loves you and you love him too. It sounds fucking crazy, but you know it’s true. Your life is so completely fucked, you don’t know if you care.

Art loves you.

Your smile doesn’t leave your lips as you turn the corner, arms wrapped around yourself tightly, the warmth of Art's affection lingering like a gentle caress.

“He smiles more.”

The soft voice ringing out from your left makes you stop in your tracks. You turn, and there in the kitchen illuminated by the soft glow of the ceiling light, like an angel, is Tashi Duncan. 

Tashi looks at you from her spot across the room with an impassive look on her face, she’s got your keys in one hand, fiddling with them boredly. When you don't reply she speaks again, "He's playing better, won the last three tournaments he was in." She says casually, setting her half full wine glass down on the island.

You don't need to ask her who "he" is.

You're silent for a few more beats as she stares at you expectantly, silently urging you to say something. You rack your brain for a response, caught like a deer in headlights under Tashi's gaze.

"What?" you softly mutter, words cutting through the air weakly.

Tashi sighs in exasperation, like you're a child who doesn't understand the simple question she's asking. She raises her wine glass back to her lips, draining the rest of it before setting it down once more and making her way over to you.

You know you should flee, make a break for the door before she reaches you. Running away from the woman whose husband you’re fucking - whose husband you just got done fucking, and who told you he loved you - while she pays you seems like the easiest thing to do in the moment, but you don't.

You find yourself glued to the spot as Tashi's commanding presence looms over you, until she's all you can see. Until her expensive smelling perfume is all you can breathe, until she's towering over you, miles of soft skin on display in a classy black nightie.

She stares down at you, her face completely unreadable. It feels like hours as her brown eyes burn into yours, your heart must be beating a thousand beats per second.

When Tashi finally moves, it’s her hand you see rising up in your peripheral vision. At first you think she's going to hit you, get you back for sleeping with her husband, for falling in love with her husband. You tense up, bracing for the slap, it would be the least of what you deserve, but it never comes.

Instead, Tashi's hand finds its way up to the side of your face, cupping your cheek gently. You can feel the chilled metal of her wedding band make contact with your warm skin.

You feel like you might pass out staring into the eyes of Tashi Duncan. Everything you ever wanted in high school flashing rapidly right before your eyes.

If Art Donaldson is the sun, Tashi is the moon. Her light draws you in and keeps you looking at her, and never wanting to look away.

Her thumb slides across your bottom lip, the same lip that’s kissed her husband. Ever so slightly, she pushes the tip of her thumb into your parted lips, far enough to touch your bottom teeth. Your breath catches in your throat, eyes widening in shock, your pulse is fluttering wildly. You distantly wonder if she can feel it on the inside of her wrist.

“I’m his coach, I need to be hard on him or he fails. I refuse to let him fail,” she says softly, tone casual like she’s not brushing the tip of your tongue with her fingers. “But I’m not stupid, I know what he needs. Someone sweet, someone gentle, someone who looks at him and doesn’t see tennis.”

You couldn’t answer her if you wanted to, but you wouldn’t trust yourself to speak anyway. You feel far away and floaty the longer her fingers sit in your mouth, your brain feels like molasses.

“I can’t give him what he needs. I’m not that kind of person,” Tashi says, eyes roaming your face languidly, like she’s window shopping your features. Her voice is nearly a whisper the next time she speaks, “but you are. You could be that for him.”

Your heart drops, the haze surrounding your brain rips away so violently, like someone took a leaf blower to it. Her words make everything start to fall into place, the at home visits, the “exclusive deal”, the weird ass run-ins you’ve had with her over the weeks. 

This was never about the goddamn massages.

For a few seconds you both stay like that. Standing inches away from each other in the half-lit kitchen of her and Art's house. For a second, you think you can see the tiniest smile playing on her lips before she drops her hand from you completely.

"There’s a car waiting for you outside,” she says, still close enough that you can feel her breath fan over your face, “See you next Thursday."

Tashi turns on her heels and leaves you alone, disappearing down the long hallway leading to her and Art's bedroom. You watch the whole time she goes, until she completely fades into the shadows. Your lip still tingling from her touch.

There’s only one thing on your mind as you incredulously stare down the now empty hall…

These people are so fucking weird.

[chunghasweetie]

𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐈𝐍’ 𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 | J.JK

— pairing | fem!oc x husband!jjk

— summary | jungkook’s been working non stop and you’re finally sick of repeating yourself (healthy argument)

— warning | bad writing (i’m doing my best) medium angst, workaholic jk, makeup sex, mentions of breeding kink, unprotected sex

— word count | 2.8k words

— song suggestion | thinking about you — ariana grande

He knew he messed up. Big time.

It was very late at night. Damn near 2am.

Jungkook had just barely arrived home to a silent house. He walked into his twin babies room, noticing that both baby Hiro and baby Liyah were already asleep for the night.

He hadn’t seen them in days.

He was working like crazy recently, going into work when he really didn’t need to.

He ran his own car line and was always on top of it when it came to work. The last month he had hardly ever been home long enough to interact with his family.

His wife knew what she was getting into when she married him. She knew his company was important to him and she completely understood.

But recently things had been different lately. He was missing doctors appointments, events, and simply quality time with her and their babies.

The twins were around 7 months old and were definitely a handful for his wife. She could handle everything on her own but it wasn’t always easy.

She needed him.

Tonight he really messed up.

He opened his room door, seeing his wife on her phone. He had promised her that he’d get off early to attend a family gathering but he chose to work again.

He knew she was greatly upset. “Hey baby” He announced his presence, cracking their door open behind him.

“Hey.” She replied dryly, not looking up from her phone.

She was beyond pissed and he could instantly sense it.

Jungkook walked over to her side of the bed, sitting down beside her. He knew she was upset with him, and he couldn't blame her.

"Y/n,I'm sorry. I really am." His voice was low, sincere, and full of regret. “I just got caught up baby.”

She didn’t say anything, simply rolling her eyes.

Jungkook's heart sank as he saw her roll her eyes. He knew he hurt her, and it was killing him inside.

He reached out and gently took her phone, setting it aside on the nightstand. "Baby, please look at me. I really am sorry."

“It’s fine, Jungkook.” The irritation was visible on her face. He’s been working all day and night and she needed him around.

She hardly ever seen him. He promised her he would go with her and he still didn’t go. She was hurting.

Jungkook felt a wave of guilt wash over him as he saw the hurt and disappointment in her eyes.

"Baby, I know it's not fine. I messed up. I promised you that I would go to the party with you, and I didn't show up." He admitted.

“You know how fucking embarrassing it was?” She looked at him.

“I looked like a hot mess today Jungkook and everyone felt sooo bad for me and I felt so humiliated” She continued.

Jungkook's heart ached as he saw the pain and embarrassment in her eyes.

He took her hand in his, his thumb gently tracing circles on the back of her hand. "I'm so sorry, baby. I should have been there with you. It must have been awful for you."

“Yeah you fucking should’ve.” She rolled her eyes once more. “You begged me for a fucking baby and I gave you twins and you can’t even show up for them. I’ve been doing everything myself.”

Jungkook's heart sank as he heard her words, a knot forming in his stomach. "I know, baby. I'm sorry. I never meant for you to feel like you’re on your own."

He pulled her into a tight hug, pressing his lips to the top of her head. "I’m so sorry gorgeous.”

“Jungkook we’ve had this conversation so many times.” She shook her head “You’re a fucking workaholic.”

He knew she was right. There was no denying he was putting work over his family. He knew he had to make a change.

Jungkook sighed as he felt her frustration and disappointment. He couldn't believe he had let things get this bad between them.

"You're right, Y/n. I've been a workaholic, not giving you the attention you deserve." He took a deep breath and looked into her eyes.

“It’s not even me it’s your kids you need to be there for. I know they’re babies and they won’t remember but they still need you Jungkook. I need you.” She sniffed, obviously stressed and fighting tears.

“You missed it, earlier at the function Hiro was trying to crawl.” She then broke down, letting her tears fall. “And you missed it.”

“Fuck.” Jungkook listened to her, realizing the true extent of the damage he had caused. He felt guiltier than ever.

"I know, Y/n. I've been selfish, thinking only about work, neglecting my children and my beautiful wife." He sighed. “You shouldn’t have to suffer on your own.”

“I just want change. I-I just don’t know what else to do.” She sighed. “Both twins were crying and needy. E-Everyone was doubting me like I couldn’t take care of my own kids.”

Jungkook's heart ached as he heard the pain in her voice. He couldn't bear the thought of her feeling alone in this, feeling like she wasn't doing enough.

He reached out and gently took her hand. "Listen to me, Y/n," he said softly, "You are the perfect mother. You are capable and strong and loving.”

He continued, “I was wrong to leave it all on you and I promise that I will change. I will be there for our children, I will support you in every way possible. And to those who doubt you, let them eat shit."

She cried more at his words, hardly able to compose herself. Jungkook's heart swelled with love at the sight of her emotion.

He pulled her into a tight embrace and whispered soothing words into her ear. "Shh, it's okay, mama. I'm here for you now, always. I will never let you down again."

“Please mean it this time.” She hiccuped.

Jungkook cupped her face gently and locked eyes with her.

"I have never been more serious about anything in my life. I love you and our children more than words can express. I promise you, I will do whatever it takes to make things right and earn your trust back."

Jungkook's heart ached at the sight of her tears.

He pulled her into a kiss, caressing her back gently. "It's okay, mama. I understand. I'm here for you now. What do you need me to do to make you feel better? I’ll drop everything immediately for us baby.”

“Can you just stay home tomorrow? Spend time with the babies— That’s all I want.”

Jungkook smiled softly at her and held her closely, rubbing her back soothingly.

"Of course beautiful. I will stay home tomorrow. I will be here for you all day, just like you deserve. I love you." He then kissed her forehead.

“I’ll stay home with you tomorrow, the next day, next week, next month. Shit, I’ll stay home with you until they’re in preschool.” He told her, making her eyes widen.

He knew he needed to do this. Her crying and confronting him gave him the wake up call he really needed. She didn’t deserve anything he was going to her and the kids didn’t deserve it either.

He wanted a baby so bad and he was fortunate enough to have his wife give him

two. He was taking that all for granted and

he knew that now.

“I love you too.” She wiped her eyes.

Jungkook's eyes shone with love and devotion as he looked at her. "I am so lucky to have a wife like you, mama. You are my everything."

He gently wiped away the remaining tears and hugged her tighter, feeling his heart swell with love for her.

“I’m luckier. I know I complain and I bitch at you a lot but I do really love you.” She told him, pecking his lips.

Jungkook's heart fluttered at her affectionate peck on his lips.

He smiled, feeling grateful for her. "You are amazing, mama. And I know we have our moments, but I wouldn't have it any other way."

Jungkook chuckled and deepened their kiss, feeling his love for her grow even more.

He kissed her passionately, savoring the taste of her lips and feeling his heart race with excitement. "I would do anything for you, Y/n. You’re my world.”

Jungkook smiled against her lips, feeling his heart swell with happiness. He deepened their kiss even further, his hands roaming over her body possessively. "You make me complete, mama. You are my weakness."

“Am I?” She giggled against his lips.

Jungkook couldn't help but chuckle at her teasing tone. He nodded and nuzzled his nose against hers.

"Yes, you are. You have me wrapped around your finger, and you know it." He gave her lips another kiss.

He couldn't get enough of her, couldn't stop himself from kissing her. "Mama, you make me so happy." He whispered the words against her lips, before pulling back slightly to look at her. “You’re so pretty.”

“Thank you babe” She blushed.

"I wanna make this up to you" He leaned down to kiss her neck, making her giggle and squirm in his arms.

She let him kiss all over her neck, loving how much attention he gave her.

He moved his lips from her neck to her lips, kiss immediately turned hot in seconds.

She made out with him on their bed, giving wet sloppy kisses.

Jungkook groaned as she started to kiss him, his arms tightening around her as he returned the kiss.

He couldn't get enough of her, couldn't stop himself from deepening the kiss. "Fuck mama..."

The two hadn’t got into it in some time. He had been working and she was always occupied with something else.

Now with built up emotions, it was just the time to ease up with one another.

Jungkook pulled back slightly, looking at her with a heated gaze. "You are so fucking beautiful."

He leaned in to kiss her again, before pulling back and standing up from the bed. "Wanna have you now. Gotta show my woman some

love.”

“You’re gonna make it up to me like this?” She bit her lips

“You want it don’t you?” Jungkook smiled into the kiss, his hands reaching for her silky pajama shirt. He tugged it up over her head, revealing her lacy red bra.

"You are so fucking hot, Y/n." He whispered against her lips, before leaning in to capture her lips in a deep, passionate kiss once more.

“I know. You have a hot wife who still tries to look good for you.” She smirked against his lips.

Jungkook chuckled, his hands reaching for the clasp of her bra. "And I’m beyond grateful. She’s the prettiest woman I’ve ever seen.”

“Getting impatient baby.” She licked her lips, eyeing him.

Jungkook groaned at her words, his hands reaching for the button of his pants. "You have no idea how much I want you, mama."

He murmured, before pulling down his pants and boxers, revealing his hard cock. "I'm going to do you so good baby.”

“Better not disappoint me.” She replied jokingly.

Jungkook chuckled, leaning in to kiss her again. "I would never disappoint you and you know that.." He whispered, before guiding himself inside of her.

The couple both gasped as he slipped himself inside.

“Oh fuck” He looked down. “Missed this so much. To think I was missing this for work.”

“Fucking finally. Needed this.” She cursed, still taking him in. She was desperate for him.

Jungkook groaned at her words, thrusting deeper into her. "You feel so fucking good, mama." He growled, his hands gripping onto her hips as he moved in and out of her. “So fucking tight.”

“You could’ve been had this.” She hummed, “That’s your fault.”

"I'm sorry, mama. I know I've been working a lot lately." He whispered, kissing her neck. "But you're all I think about when I'm gone. I promise.”

“You sure? Prove it then.” She cocked her eyebrow.

Jungkook smirked, going harder into her, showing her just how much he loves and desires her.

"You think I'm not capable?" He growled in her ear before kissing her hard as he continued his thrusting. "You're the only thing on my mind."

Jungkook slammed into her, making her mouths shoot open in surprise at his new brute force.

"I'll take care of you real good." He promised, only after a few more hard slams into her. "So fucking beautiful. All mine.”

“Shit you feel good.” She whimpered, trying not to make too much noise. “Fuck that’s it.”

Jungkook smirked at her. "I know it does, mama." He whispered, his lips barely leaving her ear as he continued to thrust into her. "That's right. Take it baby.”

“So good— Missed this dick so much” She confessed.

Jungkook's eyes roll back as a moan of pure pleasure leaves his mouth. "Fuck, mama." He breathed out through clenched teeth.

"I missed this pussy, more than anything." He said, before picking up the pace, making their skin slapping louder and louder.

“My woman” He mumbled into her ear. “My wife. The mother of my kids. Rely on me more. Please.”

He continued. “Gonna fucking take years off work all for us. Gonna make more babies with you. Should I fuck another one into you tonight? Hm?”

She was beyond heated, unable to say anything but simply nod.

Jungkook chuckles as she admits what he already knows. "That’s it pretty girl" He groaned, slamming into her even harder at the revelation. "I haven't felt you like this in so long, I was fucking dying without you, Y/!.”

“You should’ve stayed home with me more— fuck.” She moaned quietly, “Only using my fingers was killing me”

Jungkook's thrust became wilder at her words, it's been so long since he heard her moan his name like this. "Fuck, mama. I will, I swear. I'll stay home with you every fucking night, no more having to do everything yourself.”

Jungkook leaned down, trailing kisses along her neck, then whispering against her lips.

She returned the energy. She made out with him roughly, taking her frustration out on him and letting it all go.

Jungkook deepened the kiss, pulling her closer and letting her release her frustrations.

His hand reached down, gripping her ass and pulling her even closer as he thrusts harder into her, grunting into her mouth. "Love it when you fuck me back, just like this."

“Can’t help it.” She fluttered his mouth with open mouthed kisses, whining.

Jungkook growls at the sound of her whine, his thrusts becoming more erratic as he gets closer to his release. "Fuck, I love it when you're like this. So fucking needy and eager for me."

“Been needing this dick for months now” She groaned into his mouth.

Jungkook smirks against her lips, his hand reaching up and gripping her throat gently. "I know, mama. I made you wait and I’ll never do that shit again. You deserve this shit every morning and every night."

“Better fucking mean that shit too.”

Jungkook chuckles, leaning down and sucking on her neck, biting down and leaving a bruise. "All to myself. I’m so lucky.”

Jungkook thrusts into her harder, losing his rhythm as he approaches his release. "Fuck, yeah, that's it. Come for me, mama. Show me how much you love my dick."

“Shit” She curses, “Fuck mm so close Jungkook.” She gripped on his hair roughly before finally reaching her high and cumming.

Jungkook groans and thrusts a few more times before he finally reaches his climax, filling her up with his hot seed, gripping her hips tightly.

"Fuck, Y/n. You got me going to make me fucking crazy with that tight pussy for years now.” He panted, trying to catch his breath.

“You look pretty with that afterglow.” Jungkook chuckles and kisses her forehead before standing up and grabbing a warm washcloth to clean her up.

“Such a gentleman.” She blushed.

"You're always so fucking cute, baby. I love it." He says, smiling warmly at her before helping her sit up and cleaning her down there.

“Thank you baby.” She caught her breath.

“Although you made it up to me right now, I really want you to spend more time with me and the babies.” She exhaled. “They’re only this age once.”

Jungkook nods, setting the washcloth aside before crawling back into bed and pulling her into his arms.

"You're right, mama. I'll make sure to spend more time with you and the babies." He says, kissing the top of her head. “I’ll be around 24/7 now baby. You never have to worry about me again.”

“Okay baby.” She pecked his lips, “I love you.”

Jungkook smiles and pecks her back before wrapping his arms around her. "I love you too, mama."

[navybrat817]

In a Red Dress

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky has to debrief after a mission, so you decide to stop in for a visit. In a red dress.

Word Count: Over 3k

Warnings: Established relationship, explicit sexual content, unprotected vaginal sex, possessive behavior, dirty talk, flirting, teasing, slight feels (it's me, okay?), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: Happy FriYAY! I started this in January for @tumblin-theworldaway and finally finished it today. Love you, Aqua! I hope you can relax soon. Could be considered a follow up to With a Bang. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Your heels clicked along the floor as you left the elevator, reminding yourself for the umpteenth time that it wasn't Bucky’s fault that his team extended their mission for another day. Unforeseen circumstances were to blame, completely out of his control. You also couldn't hold it against him that he had to debrief after he messaged you that he arrived back home safely and unharmed. It was part of the job. Still, you missed him and wanted a bit of attention.

Which was why you showed up at S.H.I.E.L.D. in a silky red dress and Bucky’s dog tags under your coat. No bra, no panties. Which he realized when you walked into the conference room, unannounced, and removed your coat.

It was fun to put the fire in his steel eyes.

“Welcome home, Bucky,” you smiled as the room went silent. “Don’t mind me. Keep doing what you’re doing.”

Your burly boyfriend was out of his seat and didn't tear his gaze away from you, the tension thick as you tossed the coat away. Today was a good day for your self confidence. You wore it like a second skin, feeling as beautiful on the outside as you did inside. You knew you looked good enough to eat and you wanted him to devour you.

And as much as you loved him in his black shirt and tactical pants, it hid the wall of muscle you wanted to trace with your hands and tongue.

“Hey, baby. Fancy seeing you here,” he said, his eyes dropping to your chest. Your nipples hardened against the fabric and you wished he’d latch his mouth to them. “And speaking of home, I thought I was going to meet you there.”

Your shoulder lifted in a shrug. “I got impatient since you were late. Plus I wanted to show you my dress,” you said, doing a happy twirl. It was reminiscent of New Years. The soft fabric hugged your body tight like your black dress did, but this one left little to the imagination. “What do you think?”

Steve, ever the good friend, averted his gaze, but a scowl crossed Bucky’s handsome face when you both realized that other agents looked your way. You hadn't expected to be the center of attention for anyone else, but it didn't matter to you if others looked. Why would you want them when Bucky had you under his spell?

At least they were smart enough to look away when Bucky’s metal hand clenched.

“Well? Do you like it? I thought the dog tags were a nice touch,” you added, running a finger along them when he remained silent. “They really do go well with everything.”

“Come here,” he said, beckoning you with a metal finger. You knew he meant business when he didn't use his dominant hand. “Now.”

You maintained an aura of innocence as you walked toward him, watching him his lips as your hips swayed.

“I can see your nipples through your dress,” he said low enough for just the two of you, but poor Steve with his enhanced hearing likely picked up on it. “And I’m pretty sure I didn’t give you permission to wear a dress like that in front of other guys.”

Any other guy who said that to you would've been smacked, but hearing it from him only made your eyes fill with amusement as you tilted your head. “I didn’t realize I needed your permission to wear this, Sergeant.”

“Baby,” he whispered. You knew what calling him by his rank did to him.

“I should be able to wear what I want and when I want to. We both know that,” you continued, sliding your finger down his chest instead of poking it like he expected. “But you have my permission to break someone's fingers if they try to touch what belongs to you. Because I do belong to you.”

Your declaration fueled the fire within. There was no hesitation on your part. No doubt. And after being apart for a short time, you wanted him to hear you say you were his girl.

“Yeah, you do. You’re mine,” he said with a raspy touch of confidence that would’ve soaked your panties had you been wearing any. “And I’m all yours, but I still need to debrief.”

You huffed, but the conviction in his tone was admirable. “Fine. I’ll just wait here,” you said when he frowned. Both of you knew the classified information wasn’t meant for your ears, yet no one spoke up for you to leave. Were they afraid of pissing your boyfriend off? “You know, I really do love that grumpy look of yours. It gets me so wet.”

Bucky’s cheek twitched when one of the men coughed. “You're being a fucking tease.”

“Is it teasing if I let you have me?” You asked, tapping your chin. “Teasing you would be letting you go to bed with blue balls.”

Wordlessly, he lifted a hand and clutched the dog tags. He yanked on them hard enough to move you closer, his eyes not leaving yours when you gasped and shivered from the heat-filled look. You considered it a win that you didn’t collapse. Because he was going to destroy you and you’d love every second of it.

“Be very careful what comes out of your mouth next, baby,” he warned.

You smiled, more than ready to give him one more push. “I’m more interested in what’s supposed to go inside my mouth.”

His nostrils flared when you opened your mouth and showed him your tongue and throat. He put a hand on the back of your neck and tilted your head back, lightly nipping at your skin below your jaw. “I should put you on your knees and fuck your throat in front of everyone. Or put you over my knee and spank you ‘til you squirm. Show ‘em that you really are mine.”

You giggled, a soft and tempting sound. “Why fuck my throat when my pussy is nice and wet for you?”

“Gentlemen. I think the Bravo Conference Room is available. Let’s finish this up there,” Steve announced, his chair scraping against the floor and pulling you out of your spell. “Told you that you should’ve just gone home, jerk.”

“Fuck off, punk,” Bucky said, keeping a firm hand on you so you couldn’t look at any of the men filing out. The smirk he gave you was nothing short of predatory once the door clicked shut, leaving the two of you alone. “Since you need my cock so badly that you can’t wait until I get home, bend over that table and let me give it to you.”

Your giggle quickly died in your throat when you realized he was serious. “You’ve never fucked me in one of the debriefing rooms. Someone could walk in,” you reminded him.

Yeah, you showed up wearing what you did. Yeah, you teased him. But it was all in good fun. He wouldn’t actually fuck you on the table.

Right?

Your cheeks grew hot at the next words out of his mouth. “You think I give a shit about if someone walks in?”

He let go of your neck and grabbed your wrist, carefully dragging you to the table. You loved every part of him, but something about his unashamed want of you made your heart soar. Maybe it was because of how much he healed and allowed himself to have a piece of happiness. That some part of him from his past, the man he used to be, surfaced and blended in with who he was now.

Heaven sent and survived the depths of Hell.

“Now, I should spank your ass raw for this little stunt you pulled. Letting them see you in this dress,” he said without any real threat behind his words. “But I won’t do that until we’re home.”

“Yes, Sergeant Barnes,” you smiled, expecting him to bend you over. But he brought a hand to your cheek instead. “Bucky?”

His gaze moved to your lips as he murmured, “Not fucking you until I kiss you.”

His mouth met yours not in a frenzy, but with a smile. The kind that told you how happy he was to be back with you. It wasn’t long before he shifted, the hand on your cheek slipping to your chin so he could deepen it. The soft slip of his tongue ignited your entire body, feeling his heart beat faster as you brought a hand to his chest. A reminder that he was alive, home, and loved you.

You loved him, too.

Your eyes stayed shut for a few seconds after he pulled away. “Missed you, Bucky,” you whispered.

“Missed you, too,” he said, his voice rougher than before. “Now bend over.”

The air rushed from your lungs at the switch from want to tenderness to need, your chest pressed against the table as he pushed your dress. Part of you wondered if he would’ve made good on his threat and fuck you in front of the other agents. He liked to toe the line of wanting to show others you were his and not wanting them to see intimate parts of you.

Which made you wonder what he’d do if someone walked in. He said he didn’t give a shit, but would he stop and try to cover your body with his own? Or would he keep fucking you?

You wouldn't mind either way.

“Spread ‘em,” he ordered, which you immediately obeyed. The low whistle made you shut your eyes before he dragged a finger along your exposed slit. “Didn’t even bother covering your pretty pussy with underwear. Probably best since you would’ve ruined them with how wet you are.”

“You’ve ruined all of my panties, Bucky,” you said, the distinct sound of his belt buckle and pants zipper making you moan. “And I’m ready for you to fuck me.”

“Yeah? Your pussy ready to stretch around my cock?” He asked, making you shriek when he unexpectedly brought his flesh hand down hard on your ass. He only used the metal when you were in real trouble. “You better not have fucked yourself with a toy before you got here.”

“I didn’t! I haven’t even touched myself,” you promised before he stretched over your back. “I just need you in me.”

“That’s what I like to hear. And though you interrupted my debriefing and I may need to stab a teammate or two, you’re still my good girl. And good girls deserve rewards,” he growled in your ear, nipping it for good measure as you moaned. The head of his cock teased your entrance, your core clenching in anticipation. “I’ll fuck you and you’ll come all over me, just like you want and just like I need. And you’ll take it ‘til I’m done with you.”

You reveled in being his good girl, even when you were bad. How no one else could take his cock the way you could. How he made you soak your sheets day and night with your essence because being fucked by Bucky Barnes made you gush like a geyser. It was obscene.

“I’m your good girl and I’ll take everything you give me,” you said sweetly, knowing he’d fuck you whether you said it or not. “So let my pussy welcome your cock home, please?”

The soft kiss to your neck was almost like an apology before he pushed into you, both of you moaning. He’d check later to make sure you weren’t sore since he didn’t stretch you at all, but the slight ache when he bottomed out always bordered more on pleasure than pain. The overwhelming sensations of him inside you made your eyes roll back and he hadn’t even started thrusting.

“So fucking warm. And wet,” he grunted in your ear when he finally moved, his pants rubbing against your bare thighs. “Jesus fuck, you’re soaking me.”

Bucky robbed you of your breath when he leaned up and gripped your hips, hammering into you. You tried to grip the table, but all you could do was let him pull you back and forth. He was relentless like this, powerful, dominant. Making you take it, just like he said you would. Funny how minutes ago you were the one confidently teasing him and now you were a whining, needy mess. All because his cock shut your brain off.

You didn’t need to think like this anyway. You could be his doll, just for him to play with and love. In your pretty red dress or nothing at all.

“Harder, Sergeant,” you begged, your moans spurring him on.

“Not hard enough for you? Needy little thing,” he groaned, the sound of him burying himself inside you over and over echoing in your ears. “Missed this cunt. Missed you.”

Your pussy gripped him tight, the heady bliss making your vision blur. “Missed you. M… Missed your cock,” you slurred.

He chuckled, not slowing his pace as he leaned back down to tickle your cheek with his scruff. “So fucking cute when you get drunk on my cock.”

You wondered some days where he learned to talk dirty before you remembered that you had a large hand in that. He loved telling you how greedy your pussy made him. How he loved watching his spend slide out of you so he could fuck it back in. How he’s shocked some days that he can fit inside you, so he must’ve turned you into a perfect cocksleeve.

His cock made your mind numb, but your pussy made him run his mouth.

“Gonna make you sit on it when we get home. Fuck, gonna make you ruin the sheets when I fuck you into the mattress,” he rambled, making you moan louder. You didn’t care who heard. Let them hear what he did to you. What he turned you into: his needy slut. “Tell me you want it.”

“I want it,” you moaned, his thrusts pushing your breasts harder against the table, your nipples hard and aching for him to touch them. He would later. You could wait. But you couldn’t wait to fall over the precipice. “‘M gonna come.”

“Do it. Won’t stop you,” he encouraged. He no doubt felt how close you were with how you clenched around him, your back starting to arch. “C’mon, baby. Come all over me.”

Your eyes fluttered as your body tensed, your walls pulsing around him your orgasm surged like a tidal wave. The ripples tore through you, ebbing and flowing as you moaned his name. If you could drown in pleasure, you’d want his name to be the last word that spilled from your lips.

“That’s my girl,” he praised as your limbs went lax.

You throbbed around him until he pulled out, making you whimper since he didn't come. You wanted him to finish inside you. He had you on your back with your legs spread wide before you could beg for it, keeping your dress up as he speared you once again. He thrust fast, needing his release just as badly as you needed yours.

“Need to see your face when you milk my cock,” he grunted, licking his thumb and bringing it to your clit. You whined, jerking underneath him as he rubbed the swollen nub. “Oh, stay still. You can give me one more.”

You almost denied him before you felt the coil tighten within you again. You never thought you could have back-to-back orgasms until you started sleeping with him. But it shouldn’t have surprised you. He played you like his favorite instrument and you were his good girl.

You could give him one more.

“Come with me,” you panted, staring into his darkened eyes as his face twisted in ecstasy only you could provide him. “Please.”

He couldn’t resist that last bit of begging.

The waves crashed again, adding to your first high, as his mouth opened in a groan, filling you in hot spurts. Watching him tip over the edge was a sight to behold, his cheeks tinged as his hips stilled and both of you tried to catch your breath. He laid across you after a moment, the weight of him making you sigh.

“Welcome back,” you smiled as your breathing evened out.

He stayed inside you as he brushed his lips against yours. You were going to make a mess all over the table when he pulled out, but it was worth any grief either of you got. “Good to be back,” he whispered, his hand on your cheek again in a tender display as his eyes scanned your face. “So beautiful.”

“Me fucked out or the dress?” You smiled.

“Both,” he smiled back, your face warm.

“Thank you,” you breathed, your heart still racing fast. You suddenly wished you were in bed so he could properly hold you. But he’d have you home soon enough for that. “Hope I didn't get you into any trouble,” you added. That was the last thing you wanted to do.

“Steve gets it,” he assured you, briefly closing his eyes when you brushed your fingers through his hair. “I’m sorry we got back late. He’s right. I should've just gone right home.”

Your heart clenched a little at that. Missions were important and not easy on either of you, but it was his job. “It’s okay. I’m just glad you made it home safely,” you said, arching your back. The table wasn't exactly comfortable, but you were too fucked out to care.

You also didn't want to be apart from him since he was back.

He wrapped an arm underneath you to ease some of your strain. “Still teased me by showing up like this. I might fuck your throat and put you over my knee tonight,” he groaned, squeezing a breast through your dress before he straightened out the dog tags. “But then I’m going to hold you after and not let go.”

You smiled, looking forward to it. “Yes, Sergeant.”

And you'd be sure to thank Steve later for clearing out the room so you could welcome your man home.

Nothing to see here, lovelies. Go about your business! Hehe. 😇 Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[rafeandonlyrafe]

deliveries

words: 1.2k

warnings: ex!rafe, reconciliation, kinda sugar daddy rafe but he just likes taking care of his girl mhm iktr

“can i say no?” you sigh.

“say no? did you not place this delivery?” the man raises his eyebrows.

“i didn't. my- my ex did.”

“well, i have to deliver it, ma’am, but i don't care what you do with it afterwards. give it to your friends or throw it out.” the man sets the bags of food at your doorstep, snapping a picture before walking off.

you can't blame him, plus it's probably a situation he's never encountered before.

you sigh as you pick up the bags, carrying them into the kitchen counter. packages, deliveries and letters have been showing up on your doorstep for two weeks, ever since you broke up with rafe.

you're sick of it at this point. as you go through the food, picking out something to eat for dinner (you're not just gonna let it go to waste!) you grab your phone and unblock rafes number.

you wonder how long it will take him to realize as you sit at your desk and eat. you're in an apartment complex with pretty tight security, it's the only reason why rafe isn't knocking at your door himself, instead sending whoever he can to get a message to you, while simultaneously making sure you have plenty of food to eat and things to take care of yourself with.

you answer your phone after the first ring. you deleted his contact, but rafes number is forever memorized in your head.

“stop sending me things.” 

“baby, its a relief to hear your voice again.” rafe sighs, sounding genuinely happy, like a weight is suddenly off his chest. “please, let me just talk to you. i miss you so much.”

“no, rafe. we broke up. you need to stop.” 

“why'd you break up with me? what did you tell me princess?” rafe questions. “i wasn't giving you enough attention. now im giving you everything. please, y/n.” he pleads. “im not going to stop.”

you take a deep sigh. you really love rafe, despite your relationship being only six months old when you broke up with him, it was just too much. too much attention from your friends and too much pressure from his family. it pushed your relationship farther apart until rafe barely paid attention to you, receiving constant questions from his dad and friends.

“you have to, rafe. clearly things weren't working out. we tried. we can say that. gave it a fair shot.”

“im not done trying. yes, i let my family and other people get into my head about our relationship, but im done with that bullshit. i want you back.”

“let me think about it, okay?” it's an olive branch. the best thing that you can extend right now.

“okay.” rafe agrees. “how about i call you friday?”

you glance at the calendar hanging over your desk. two days. two days to think. you're not sure it's enough or too much.

“that works… but rafe, stop sending me stuff.”

“i can't, baby.” you can practically see the way he's shaking his head right now. “gotta take care of my girl, even if you don't wanna see me.”

“fine.” you groan. you know there's no talking rafe out of it. “order me some lemonade next time then.”

--

you yawn as you wake up with a big stretch, instinctively reaching over to the other side of the bed. your hand pats the sheets before remembering that you left rafe.

you slide out of bed, heading towards your kitchen to get something for breakfast when a knock on your door interrupts you.

“one second!” you're in pajamas, but they're far too small and tight to answer the door in. you rush back into your bedroom and pull a robe on to cover up.

“hi!” the delivery woman smiles. “y/n?”

“yup.” you nod, stepping to the side. “do you mind just setting it down on the counter?”

the woman places the bags down before saying goodbye and seeing herself out. you sigh and look into the bags, eyes bulging when you see velvet boxes carefully placed inside one of them.

you pull out one of the boxes, gasping when a beautiful diamond necklace is revealed. you continue to open them, realizing rafe bought you jewelry of almost every variety.

“oh, gosh.” you grab a note, opening it to see his handwriting.

it's just what you deserve. i love you and want you back. can't wait to talk to you tomorrow.

rafe

p.s. i paid your rent for the next three months

you grab your phone before even looking in the other bag, dialing rafes number. he picks up almost instantly.

“you know you can't buy my love, right?” 

“im not trying to.” rafe says. “im just trying to take care of you. did you get the breakfast?”

you peek into the other bag, seeing a stack of delicious looking pancakes inside a clear container, as well as some other options.

“yeah, ill eat it in a minute.”

“good.” you can practically hear rafes smile over the phone.

“how about we meet up in person to talk tomorrow instead of on the phone?”

“ill go wherever you want.”

“our first date.” is all you say before hanging up, grabbing the pancakes and container holding scrambled eggs.

--

you're aware you didn't say what time as you pull up to the pier. it's a warm day, sunny with almost no clouds in the sky, but a light breeze gives you the perfect amount of cooling.

you walk down the pier, unable to hold back your smile when you see rafe sitting on the bench where you ate ice cream on your first date after finally agreeing to let him take you out.

rafe watches you carefully as you sit down next to him.

“you're wearing the necklace i got you.” he smiles, seeing the gold chain around your neck.

“i am.” you nod. 

“can i… can i hug you? ive missed you so much baby.”

you nod again, not sure you can find your voice as rafes arms wrap around your body, holding you into his side. you snuggle into his chest, eyes sliding shut. 

“love you so much.” rafe says, pressing kisses to the top of your head. “so much i messed up the first time not trying to be too obsessed. i just didn't want to make you run away, turns out i did the exact opposite and you felt ignored. you know how my dad is…” rafe trails off as you pick your head up to look at him.

“we shouldn't have let others get between us.” you know you're not innocent in it either, contributing just as much to rafe to the tension that had grown between the two of you.

“and we won't let it happen again now that we know.” rafe says, a promising look in his eyes. you swear it looks like he might cry as you nod.

he ducks his head, pressing your lips together in a sweet kiss. you fist your hands in his shirt, keeping him close as you kiss back, having missed his lips on yours more than you'd like to admit.

“does this mean you'll tell security im allowed back in?” rafe laughs gently, cupping your face, his thumb gently stroking over your cheek.

“hmm, i guess.” you giggle.

taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @forstarkey @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @sourkittie @rafeyslove @rafeinterlude @bellbottombaby @deeaardiary @rubixgsworld @wearemadeofstardust0 @leighbronk @starkeysheart @pradabambie @tobesolovelysstuff @alexiskirkland @rafestar @brioffthegrid @juniebugg @magicalyoura @cokepewpsii @mysticallystilinski @luvdella @aerangi @vogueprincess @auryyz @raysmayhem-72 @thestarlithideout @marvelfanfics1recs @rafesgiirl @ditzyzombiesblog @chiaraanatra @tobiaslut @drewsephrry @1aarii1 @bejeweledreverie @winterrrnight

[sednas]

i wanted to write something nasty but it ended up being quite sweet, don't blame me i just need love

⠀ૈ☆ ex-husband nanami x fem!reader

𓏲 ࣪₊♡ tw: [n]sfw, breeding kink, jealousy, possessiveness, fluffy ending

it only took one look, just one look across the room full of guests to reignite something that had never really been extinguished.

nanami's grip around his glass of wine got a little tighter, his eyes flashing at you and his heart starting to beat fast.

he became more muscular since your divorce, his shoulders looked stronger, carrying him with much more confidence and charisma than before.

maybe he finally quit his shitty job, you thought to yourself, trying to act cool as you saw him coming closer...

yeah he definitely quit his job, you think to yourself again, laying on your back while his cock is splitting you open.

"I missed you so much my love..."

familiar goosebumps hit your skin and his hands slide along the curves of your waist, the tip of his cock pushing against your cervix.

all you can do is take it, unfocused eyes watching your ex-husband thrusting inside your dripping pussy. nanami grunts, his body pressed against your own, his breath fanning over your neck, and you can't help but moan his name and wrap your legs around his hips, trying to meet his thrusts.

"'missed you too kento..." you try to speak, your hands reaching out to hold his face.

you missed everything about him, the warmth of his skin, his cologne scent, how messy his blond hair gets when you run your hands through it, and the way he knows every single one of your weak spots.

he never fucked you this hard in the past, of course he was rough sometimes, but you can tell something has changed, snapped.

not that you're complaining about it.

your back arches off the bed, making his pelvic bone touch your spasming clit.

"this time I'm not letting you go angel..."

his eyes get darker, thinking about the potential men and women who had you since your divorce, it makes him fuck you harder, deeper.

"mine..." he whispers, more to himself than for you to hear.

he takes your hands to pin them above your head and smiles when he hears you whine.

"you're gonna cum angel?" he asks, not slowing down his thrusts.

he knows you by heart, and he smiles when you nod, his mouth starting to suck on the soft skin of your neck, marking you.

"that's okay, I'm gonna cum too..." he says, and you can feel his hot breath hitting your skin.

he keeps rubbing your sweet spot, completely lost in the feeling. god he missed that feeling, you're the only one who can make him lose his mind like that, he can't believe he let you go when you're this perfect.

"you're still not on birth control?"

and he smiles again when he sees you shake your head. so perfect.

"gonna put a baby in you yeah? gonna make you a mom... will you let me angel?"

you mindlessly nod your head, wrapping your legs tighter around his waist, your whole body is trembling and you feel his cock twitches inside of you.

"please... breed me..." you sweetly asks, and he can't deny you.

your vision gets blurry, your eyes roll back and you violently cum around his cock as he does the same in you, still thrusting to push his cum deeper. you both stays silent for a few seconds, nanami's head buried in your neck, inhaling your familiar scent, closing his eyes of content when he feels your hands rubbing his back.

"I love you, I've never stopped loving you, even after six years..." he whispers, his voice sounding almost vulnerable as he kisses your shoulder.

you ruffle his hair, and you whine a little as you can feel his cock still pushing against your cervix.

"I'm here now, I won't leave."

he hums, his arms wrapping around your waist and you can feel yourself slowly drifting off to sleep.

this time you both won't let go of each other.

jjk masterlist

[f1fantasys]

I‘ve got this little idea where Lando is angry about having to give the win to Oscar and he takes his anger out on reader but then Oscar calls Lando when they are in the middle of sonething ;) and Lando eventually picks up :D I don’t know if you like this

Thank you for this! I love it. Hope you enjoy it anon, I hope it's what you were hoping for. Remember - requests are always open.

Post Race

Warnings - mild angst, smut, fingering, m and f receiving oral, swearing

2.1K

Today's race was a complete shitshow. Watching it was one thing, but listening to it was a whole other ballgame. Hearing how the pit wall lied, manipulated and guilt tripped Lando was heartbreaking to hear. Lando was already a sensitive being, but it was safe to say - sensitive or not - no driver deserved this kind of treatment from their own team.

You knew Lando was going to be upset, take the blame on himself for everything, but it was now your job to make him understand that none of today was his fault, and he was the one fucked over.

As he drove into his P2 place you stood watching him from the barriers. You expected to see him with a defeated look on his face, eyes sad as they usually would be after coming so close to a win and having it snatched away from him. But you didn't see any of that. Here was an angry Lando, pissed off, body language completely not what you were expecting.

He walked up to where his mechanics and you were standing. He threw words of anger, not directly to them, but rather for the team. When he looked at you his eyes bore into yours, not softening sweetly as they usually do when he looks at you. This was a very pissed off man standing in front of you, and you knew nothing you said at this moment was going to calm him down. You just bit your lip and gave his bicep a squeeze, before he was called for his interview and the podium.

As soon as that was done Lando went to finish up his other interviews. You waited for him in his drivers' room, trying to find a way to calm your own nerves and be prepared for whatever emotions Lando was going to go through.

After some time you heard Lando's voice getting louder, setting his frustrations out on Jon, about the race, about how it wasn't Oscar's race to win. His room door flew open before he quickly came inside and shut the door behind him.

''Lando -'''you started, but he cut your off.

''Just don't!. We're leaving. Flying back home. Don't want to spend another minute here'' he threw harshly at you.

''Okay, but baby please -''

''Fuck Y/N, just stop talking'' he cut you off again.

You gulped and just nodded your head, gathering your things, not saying another word. You knew his anger wasn't towards you. Basically any one who came into contact with him since the race ended has had his anger thrown at them. And you honestly struggled to find any reason to blame him.

The flight home was a silent one. You kept your distance knowing he would come to you when he was ready.

Once back at your shared apartment you hoped the comfort of the place would calm Lando down and let you be there for him.

He immediately started to unpack his bags, it was always the first thing he did once he was back home after a bad race.

''Lan I'm going for a shower'' you quietly told him as you stepped into the bathroom and started stripping when he didn't say anything back.

The warm water instantly calmed your tense body, and it had you involuntarily moaning with how good it felt.

What you didn't know was Lando had heard your moans, and for a second got angrier at the thought that you were pleasuring yourself when he was literally in the next room.

The bathroom door flew open and banged against the wall, causing you to jump and shudder with a fright.

''What the fuck are you doing?'' Lando asked, voice laced with venom, although his actions had your mind confused because he started stripping himself.

''I-What?'' you asked, mind blurred with what was going on.

He opened the shower door and you saw him in all his glory. Face red with anger, muscles taunt, and his god damn thick girth standing hard and tall, angrier than his face. His eyes shamelessly roamed your body, which had you suddenly dripped with want.

He stepped into the shower and pushed you against the wall roughly, but not enough to hurt you.

You cupped your chin and held it up so your face was gazing up at his.

''Touching yourself? When I'm right here?'' he asked, his voice and his hold on you softening instantly.

''What?'' you whispered, mind still confused at everything thats' happened in the last minute or so.

Lando's bought his fingers to toy with your cunt, slipping through your folds roughly.

''Lan oh uh'' you breathed, closing your eyes and enjoying what he was doing to you.

''Don't oh me'' he said, voice not as soft now.

''Lan, wasn't touching myself. Just felt relieved with the hot water on my body'' you breathed out, trying to grind yourself on his fingers.

''Say what you want babygirl'' he said, before leaning down to take the breath out of you in a heated, rough kiss. While at the same time he slipped two fingers through your entrance and set a relentless pace.

You moaned into him and you wrapped your arms around his head and pulled at his curls, edging him on to continue.

''Wasn't touching myself Lan'' you repeated as you pulled back for air. ''Not when I have you for that'' you whispered, pulling him in again.

He sped up his fingers and curled them so precisely so he was suddenly hitting that spongy spot inside you that sent you trembling over the edge, releasing your cum all over his hand while biting on his lower lip to ride through the pleasure.

''Look at you, dripping like this for me'' he roughly said before kissing you again and letting his tongue explore your mouth. All you could do was moan into the kiss again, trying to keep your body at bay from your unexpected orgasm.

Lando then pushed you down to your knees before pumping himself. You looked at his girth, saw how red and hard he was. The vein on the side looking like it was about to explode. You held onto his thighs as Lando pushed himself into your mouth, and hissing at the contact of your tongue on him.

He fucked into your mouth violently, hitting the back of your throat with each thrust which in turn had to gagging around him. Your mouth a mess of spit dripping down your chin.

You moaned around him again, creating a vibration at everything he was feeling, when he started talking again, this time about the race.

''Got fucked over by my own fucking team again, but at least I can come home and fuck you over now''

You moaned at his words, rubbing your thighs together slightly.

''That what you want huh? Already desperate for my cock, aren't you?'' you said as he slammed into your mouth again.

''Hmm mm'' you said, Lando not giving you a chance to say anything back.

You could feel his movements getting sloppier and clumsy, he was close, and you eagerly waited to taste him.

Suddenly though, he pulled out of your mouth. You whined in response when you saw hum shut the water off and step out the shower, pulling you behind him.

He quickly dried both of your bodies before he roughly picked you up by your ass and walked back into your bedroom, throwing you on the bed.

Lando spread your legs apart and wasted to time in running his cock through your folds before hammering into your cunt, bottoming out in one thrust.

''Fuck, Lando!'' you shrieked, body shuddering at the intrusion.

He didn't say a word. He just bought his hand to your throat and lightly put his pressure on it, using it to set a fast and rough pace, while his tongue settled on your hard nipples, biting and tugging on them.

''Yes Lan, god, feels amazing, fuck me harder, please'' you begged him, nails digging into the muscles on his back, probably even drawing blood from how hard you were scratching him.

He chuckled sarcastically. ''Harder, she says'' before his movements rapidly increased, making you a moaning mess underneath him.

That was until the sound of Lando's phone ringing on his beside halted your movements.

Lando scoffed when he saw who was calling him.

''Fucking pathetic. Steals my win from me then has the audacity to phone me while I'm fucking my girl''

You couldn't help but smile at the mention of being ''his girl'' while he was this riled up.

But you knew Lando had to speak to Oscar at some point. Might as well get it over and done with.

''Lan answer it, talk to him. You need to'' you cooed.

But Lando showed no signs of stopping fucking into you.

''He can fuck off. Don't wanna speak to him right now'' Lando angrily threw back at you.

While all this was going on you couldn't hold back your orgasm, so you violently gushed all over Lando's cock, moaning out his name, surely for the neighbors to hear.

As Lando chased his own release his phone started ringing again. This time though he held his hand over your mouth to muffle your moans and answered Oscar's call, not slowly his movements whatsoever.

''Osc'' he sarcastically threw through the call. He had it on loudspeaker so as much as you wanted to go into a phase of bliss, you listened in.

''Lando'' Oscar said, voice sounding weary, while Lando still pounded into you, eyes on yours.

''I just listened to everything. The on boards, everything. If I had known they were lying to you about your tyres and everything I wouldn't have wanted my first win like this. I didn't know you had a glitch at the start. Seriously, i hate that I took a win from you''

''Lando?'' he asked when Lando didn't reply, instead picked up his breathing into his phone.

''Fuck. I-I'' Lando panted, movements coming to halt.

''It's not your fault Oscar. The team fucked both of us today. But you deserved the win. Enjoy it'' Lando cooed back.

You couldn't help but admire Lando's humanity. He truly was such a selfless, incredible person.

''Yeah but still. Shit day for the both of us'' Oscar replied back.

Lando's eyes on you grew soft and tender for the first time since the race ended.

''Mate. We'll chat soon. But seriously, you only win for the first time once, so take it and enjoy it''

''Thanks'' Oscar said, and if he wanted to say anymore you wouldn't have heard it because Lando ended the call and threw his phone to the other side of the bed.

He leaned down and locked his lips with yours in a tender kiss, before he let all his weight fall on you and started to thrust into you again, not fucking you, but just making love to you.

You held his face in your hands and kissed him again, slow and deep, your own tongue slipping into his mouth and memorizing every inch of him.

Within minutes you had your body shaking underneath him, your warm juices sliding across his aching dick.

''Lan, fuck'' you moaned out.

''Fuck y/n, so frickin tight for me'' he whispered before his cock started twitching inside of you and in no time you felt him release his milky cum to fill you up. He moaned into your ear as he rode through his orgasm as you just wrapped your arms around him and held him as close as possible.

You stayed like that for a few minutes until he started softening, so he pulled out, the both of you moaning at the loss of contact.

Lando layed beside you and pulled you to his side.

''Lando-''

''Wait, I'm sorry for being angry at you. You know it wasn't you. It was the fucking team, and I'm not okay with how they treated me today. But thank you for being there for me. I love you so much''

''Lan I love you too. You're amazing and I swear I fall more in love with you every second of every day. You'll get that win soon enough. I know it. Until then, hold onto my love for you''

He kissed your forehead, then chuckled.

''What's so funny?'' you asked, giggling at him.

''And thank you for moaning in the shower. Fucking thought you were getting yourself off in there''

''Hmmm Lan, you should know better by now. Can't get myself off when I can have you there to fuck me whenever I want'' you both chuckled and kissed again.

[dejwrld]

CHOSOIST KINKTOBER GAMING PLAYLIST — WEEK 2

( GUARDIAN ANGEL ) 🎮 GUARDIAN ANGEL!SEPHIROTH X READER

— game synopsis: he's been your guardian angel since you were sixteen years old. protecting you from danger you didn't see coming, but now that you're slowly wanting space from him—he makes it his mission to remind you who you belong to until you take your final breath.

( cw ) ⸻ fem reader, female anatomy described, slight enemies to fuckers, reader somewhat purposely put herself in danger, possessive!sephiroth, mentions of sephiroth having pretty white wings, mating press position, cream pies, mentions of soul ties,

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀kinktober masterlist / previous playthrough

You’ve known him since you were sixteen years old. The mere memory of him grabbing at your backpack strap to tug you out of the way as you were about to walk into ongoing traffic imprints your brain like a nostalgic TV memory. He was a sixteen-year-old guardian angel who aged through the years as you grew, interfering in your life as if you were the most life-threatening person ever. 

Freshman year of college, he’s taking the red solo cup of whatever mixed potion the older frat guys made out of your hand. This led to practically the whole campus thinking you were chronically insane as you argued with no one because they couldn’t see what you saw. He interfered with your life at moments when you had it all under control, and he didn’t need to baby you as if you didn’t. But you were grateful for him, and the things he did stop when things got bad.

It's like killing a guy who roofied you at a bar. Despite the toxic drugs from drinking your drink, it had you feeling like you were in another world. You remember the crimson-red liquid staining his large, elegant white wings after the deed was done. After that, he’s never left your side, and you grew to feel suffocated. You couldn’t do much in your life if you had your guardian angel down your neck twenty-four-seven commenting on you getting hurt or dying. 

Now an adult, he still was here. Despite you being perfectly fine. No freak accidents, no near-death experiences. He still was here lurking around as if you were a child. 

Right now, watching as you poorly attempted to get laid. Your panties dangle from your ankle as you wait for the guy to insert, but as your horny meter slowly decreases—so does the poor stranger you met at a bar cock. Your eyes averted between your bodies as he aggressively pumped his condom-covered cock; you could hear his laughs as he was sitting on your kitchen counter chewing on an apple. 

Fuckin’ Sephiroth.

“You know what? That’s okay. Just leave.” You pushed the guy off you, limp dick and all while you’re scrambling to tug your panties back on. 

“What? It just takes some time,” The guy’s tugging his pants up in frustration. “Just please…baby.” He’s grasping on you, and you’re swatting his hand away like it’s an annoying fruit fly. 

“Just go. I’m no longer in the mood.” You warned.

This was a warning not only for yourself but for him. You had a 6’1 angel looming around your apartment who didn’t care to kill someone—especially a person who wasn’t following directions. Your eyes darted from him in the kitchen to the guy who kissed his teeth while collecting his belongings.

“Don’t call me anymore! You completely wasted my time.” He sneered at you while leaving your apartment. The door closed with a harsh slam that made you jump. 

As silence drifts over your apartment, and the only thing you can hear is the sound of that annoying clock in your kitchen ticking, you lean back on the couch with a sigh. “You know, you completely ruined the vibe, you know?” Your eyes land on the white-haired male as he finishes the apple he obnoxiously chews on.

“Do not blame it on me.” He tosses the apple in a trash can and stands up to close the space between you.

“I am blaming you because it seems like every romantic connection I attempt to make, you are there to ruin it.” You sneered at him before sitting up. “I don’t think this will work anymore, Sephiroth.” 

“Are you saying you want to release me of my duties of being your guardian angel?” He asks. You can feel he got closer despite shifting your eyes closed to calm yourself down from this talk. 

You two have been together for years. He’s been protecting you for years, and now it felt so suffocating that you couldn’t breathe. Sometimes, you wanted to release him of his duties, but you knew when you did that every memory you’ve shared with him would vanish. It would be like you two have never met. 

The sight of him with his elegant white wings on his back. The sight of blood staining his pale skin after murdering someone that hurt you. The look of worry when you almost walk into traffic, and he was a split second from being too late. 

He was yours just as much as you were his. But you needed space. 

“Yes.” You breathed out, pushing yourself off the couch to enter your room. “You know, I appreciate everything you’ve done for me, but I don’t think we can co-exist in each other’s lives anymore.” You explained you turned around, and he was leaning against your doorframe with the most obnoxious face. 

It was as if your words were going out one ear and the other for him. “We’re not young anymore. I don’t need you being so….so.” You were searching for the word to describe how you felt—frustration riddling your bones as you attempted to express yourself. 

Sephiroth took steps forward, closing the gap between you two. When he was towering over you with such little care at how close he was to you—he fixed your tank top strap and let his slender fingers linger on your shoulder just a little longer to cause goosebumps to garnish your skin immediately. 

“Possessive.” He finishes your sentence as his teeth graze upon his lower lip. “Is that the word you’re searching for, my little ward?” 

And with challenging eyes, you met his and said, “Yes. Possessive, like you own me or something.” 

His chuckles. But this chuckle was different from the one you have heard. It felt more sinister, more agitated. 

“You’re stuck with me, love. If you like it or not. We’re bound together until you die of old age or better yet, I briefly take my eyes off you as fate finally chooses a moment for you to die. Maybe a bus will hit you as you walk into traffic for texting on that silly device of yours, or maybe you’ll accidentally hit your head.” 

Your eyebrows furrow together in frustration and anger at his words. 

“You enjoy my company but don’t want to admit it. You think I didn’t notice the way you bring home little flings to spite me. You think I can’t hear the way your heartbeat quickens at the sight of me watching you get fucked by some man who can’t even make you orgasm. Sephiroth’s eyes glance over your body like he was observing you under a microscope. “So tell me, Y/N.” His finger’s toying with that strap on your tank top that keeps falling off your shoulder. 

“How many times have you imagined me, your sworn protector—your guardian angel fucking you?” His fingers drag alongside your nipples that harden through the thin white fabric of your tank top. “And don’t lie; I know when you’re lying to me.” 

You couldn’t quite remember what you had said after his words for your knees to be pressed upon your stomach and for Sephiroth’s cock to be buried into your throbbing cunt while your moans bounced off the walls. The pornographic sound of heated skin slapping against each other with the sound of your headboard banging against the wall was like music to your ears. But you enjoyed the sight of Sephiroth more. 

His crystal white hair fell in his face so perfectly. Comically enough, you wanted to say he looked like an angel. His eyes kept averting between your fucked out face and in between your body. With each glance down there, it seemed he fucked you into the mattress even harder. Instantly, your legs snake around his waist, completely trapping him from depriving you of what you were so eager for.

Sephiroth chuckles darkly through your pants of desperation, “Seems you’re enjoying this a little too much.” He mumbles. He pulls his cock entirely out of you, leaving you whining for more. 

He guides his cock in between your pussy lips rubbing in the mixture of your essence and pre-cum. Your back arched off the mattress with urgency, and he pushed you back down so you could endure the pleasurable torture of his cock teasing you until you were staining the cotton sheets below your naked body. With each stroke between your puffy lips, you’re squeezing your eyes shut tightly to prevent even the littlest thought of him seeing you like this. You didn’t think you could fathom the mere embarrassment. 

“Come on, you don’t want to see how well you take me?” He questions, his voice rings with a teasing tone that makes your pussy pulse. 

“Fine then.” He mumbles what seems to himself before he hooks his strong arms under your knees, completely trapping you under him and what’s to come.

You wondered if Sephiroth could hear how fast your heart was beating. It felt like it was bouncing around your chest like a small ball in a pinball machine. The feeling of his thick tip brushing against your entrance felt like the world had stopped. Perhaps it did. The idea of a guardian angel fucking his ward into her mattress had to be some form of rule breaker, right? Maybe, just maybe—God had briefly paused the world to give you time to weigh out the pros and cons of this.

But when Sephiroth bottomed down inside you, you felt the world unpause, and a wave of pleasure travel across your body. You even could hear yourself let out a sigh of relief—as if you’ve been waiting for this moment in centuries. The way his cock was inside, you felt like it was a missing piece in a puzzle you need. It fit perfectly, but when he started rotating and thrusting his hips—you couldn’t help but call out his name like it was a scripture.

It wasn’t as if you could do anything else but take his sensual thrusts. The mating press position trapped you from doing anything else but that. The way he was making you feel at the moment had you ignoring all that. Your moans echoed into his ear, and Sephiroth was very responsive because he’d grunt back like a rabid animal in heat. Ensuring that the feeling was mutual. That he was feeling just as good as you were. 

“After this, you’ll be stuck with me forever, right?” Sephiroth asked. His tongue drags alongside the bridge of your right ear, and instantly, your legs snake around his waist, locking your feet together so he won’t let go.

“Mhm, that’s what I thought.” His words send a chill down your spine as he continues to fuck into the mattress.

The pornographic sound of heated flesh echos upon your bedroom, and your eyes seem to squeeze shut in bliss. Savoring the moment between the two of you until you couldn’t anymore. Your pussy pulsed around his cock, and your thighs quivered under your guardian angel’s touch. His grip on you grew tighter, and you knew that he was unraveling right on top of you. His groans that echoed in your ear changed into whines of desperation. If you were being honest with yourself, you haven’t seen him this desperate in your life.

But it was a reason for that because, in just three seconds, he was a coming mess. He didn’t even bother to pull out, either. His nails dug into your heated flesh with each thrust inside of you, ensuring that each droplet of his cum stayed inside of you. With your legs wrapped around his waist, you leaned up to indulge in a heated kiss to seal the deal that you knew was going to follow you for years.

You truly were stuck with him forever until you took your last breath. 

TAGS // @salaciousdoll @syndrlla97 @lilvampirina @msun1c0rn

[panthrology]

waking up horny in the dead of night with SUGURU GETO as your boyfriend is actual hell sometimes

i just know that this man has the worst attitude when really tired. who can blame him? being a guy as hot as he is cannot be easy.

“girl—” suguru would grunt and turn back over after shaking him awake for dick. for dick. yeah self-inflicted really. other times he wouldn't say anything at all, just shoot you a nasty look.

but a girl has her needs.

“baby please?” you try again, perching your chin onto his buff arm. “the dream was a little too detailed.” a small pout forms on your puckered lips.

“that isn't my fault,” suguru counters, the soft bass in his voice resounding in your shared bedroom. “you couldn't have waited until there was light outside?”

you shake your head.

“must be tough. good night, sweetheart.”

this man. you groan out an exasperated ‘suguru!’ and curve over his form, staring at him as if he can see you through his closed eyelids.

“no, y/n.”

“i’ll top?”

you lied.

you knew damn well you couldn't be bothered to ride him to an orgasm at two in the morning and so did suguru. so when he scoffed and muttered “roll over.” you were grinning victoriously.

“I don't belive you.” suguru hissed, lifting up your hoodie over your hips and feeling up the skin of your ass.

“sorry, sugu’.” you're breathless already when he starts spreading the globes of your ass apart to take a good look at your cunt through low lidded eyes with the sleep and arousal still weighing them down. suguru merely tutted, wrapping a hand around his bobbing cock to push his tip in for the second time tonight.

you tensed as you sunk your head into the pillow in front of you. suguru had a big dick. you knew that much from the time you caught wind of what his attitude was like. nonchalant, quiet confidence, tall, pretty large hands. You'd be surprised if he didn't.

“y/n..if you don't relax. I can't move if you're trying to crush me.” you roll your eyes—so dramatic.

you ease up, but quickly choke on your breath when he slides all the way in, filling you with his thick inches. your pussy flutters at the intrusion, squeezing suguru again. “shiittt baby..” yeah—he undoubtedly missed that.

and when suguru sees your ass ripple and hips jump forward with every deep thrust, he suddenly thinks that he made a good decision.

but he was still fucking tired.

“mm-mm, don't run from me, sweetheart. you wanted me to give it to you, so take it—take this dick ‘fore I take it away.”

“you're so needy, can't even let a man sleep.”

“pretty girl just can't stop creamin’ all over me, so cute.”

“listen t'thaat, it's like your pussy's doin’ all the talking. have i made you dumb already, sweetheart?

for someone who’s so fatigued, he can't seem to shut up at all. mumbling and groaning nastiness all up in your ear like he's drunk on your pussy. suguru thinks he just might be.

he's got a firm grip on your hair and one digging into the fat of your hip, balls thwacking against your sticky cunt. suguru's strokes are mean, every ridge of his cock rubbing against your cushy walls. you're actually drooling, the dizzying mixture of exhaustion and pleasure making you float higher than the pearly gates. Yet with the way your hole squelches when he goes real deep..and his fat tip grinds on that one spot, you're going anywhere but heaven.

You don't even have to say it, suguru knows. suguru knows you're about to cum when he can feel you sporadically squeeze him and when your moans get longer and higher against the pillow you bury yourself into.

“gonna cum already?” he's giggling, the trembles of your ankles and the way your fist tightens not going unnoticed by him. “fuck me back, then. show me how bad you wanna cum on me.” he stops all motion before yawning out loud, a lazy hand reaching his face to cover his mouth. how sexy.

pressing your lips together, you brace your hands out in front of you and swing your ass back on suguru. you were on thin ice right now, and with his snarky attitude, he literally might just leave you high and dry.

your knees are unsteady and shaky but you persevere, looking over your shoulder to see jet black strands hang over his face and shoulders, and amber eyes steeled on where you two connect. his lips are parted slightly as he huffs out a gravelly groan.

“yeah, jus’ like that. fuck me.” suguru praises, words sliding over each other slightly. he picks up the pace again, balls tightening as his head hangs low. he listens to your drawn out moans, sounding more like broken sobs with each stroke he gives you and it makes him dizzy. “‘m gonna cum, i'm gonna cum.” he's whining now.

“inside, sugu’—don't stop!” you beg as you spasm around him, milking your boyfriend.

suguru huffs out a laugh, a lazy grin stretches on his lips. he loves seeing you needy and mind-fucked like this—it scratches an itch deep in his soul. “alright. stay still f'me sweetheart—gonna give it to ya how you like.”

a shattered whimper rips from your throat as he pushes his hips all the way forward, and rams himself all the way in so his cock bullies that spot, the one that makes your cunt gush.

“o-ohh, my god! right there..’s right there, ‘m gonna cuumm..” you wail but he shushes you, the volume of your moans making him wince.

“make a mess pretty girl,” he grunts before his jaw goes slack and ropes of his sticky load flood your cunt. “fuuuckk..” but he doesn't stop—he powers through his orgasm and into overstimulation. suguru smiles when your eyes roll back and your limbs go limp, wailling into the satin pillowcase as you cum and cream onto him.

you think you black out for a second with your ears ringing and heart hammering in your chest. knees falling flat, your entire body slumps forward into the mattress as the aftershocks of your orgasm shoot through you like lightning. you could practically feel the beads of sweat sliding down your body underneath your hoodie.

when a warm and wet rag slides against your slit and inner thighs, you glance behind you and see an entirely spent suguru. he's continuously yawning while he pulls your flimsy underwear back up, before tossing the damp towel into the dirty laundry basket.

“thank you sugu’,” a satisfied sigh escapes your lips as he tucks you into his embrace, yet all suguru can do is scoff. you couldn't help but giggle at his annoyance, smiling like a cat who got the cream.

literally.

“next time, I'll just ignore you and get my well deserved sleep,” he spits, resting his chin atop your head.

totally worth it.

© NEPTNSZN 2024 ★ please do NOT copy, repost or modify my pieces, apply credit when necessary.

[aakeysmash]

college!sukuna accidentally bumping into you at a café. *inspired* by this ask!

college sukuna masterlist

The bells right next to the front door chime when he enters the café. Today he’s distracted: the kitchen sink back at the apartment is currently leaking and he’s searching online for someone to come look at it. Not that he didn’t already try to fix it, but he doesn’t have the right bolt to repair it alone. He’s just going to order the usual, sit at one of the tables in the corner and play candy crush until Yuuji gets out of school.

He’s a regular here since his brother’s elementary school is right in front of it. Sometimes he just wants to kill time, and pastries here are good for his macros. Or at least he tells himself so.

“Hello, what can I get you?” A female voice asks him from the register. He doesn’t strain his gaze from his phone.

“The usual,” he says. Then he thinks about the familiar voice he just heard and snaps his head up.

“What are you doing here?” “Sukuna?” You both say at the same time.

His surprised face morphs into a smug one in a split second.

“Didn’t know you liked me so much that you started to follow me, baby. You could’ve just waited for me at home if you missed me that much, I would’ve made sure to put some cream in your… coffee,” he says winking at you.

You put on a fake smile before answering. His innuendos are getting worse by the day, he’s disgusting.

“I’m going to poison your coffee if you keep this up, Itadori,” you whisper, as to not make the manager hear you. “Go get some pussy, please, you’re insufferable,” you whine when he gets closer.

He looks you up and down, licking a corner of his lips, mischief still in his gaze. He knows you’re right, sometimes he does a bit too much, but the way you huff and puff brings him more joy than any game on his phone does.

“You know I wouldn’t touch you with a ten foot pole, Y/N. I don’t fuck snitches,” he responds, rolling his eyes.

You chuckle at that. This has been one of your inside jokes since the start. You managed to file 15 noise complaints in the first three weeks of your stay in the apartment, and the owner had to threaten to kick out Sukuna if he didn’t stop fucking girls so loudly. Sukuna had to agree and bite his tongue 5 times during that conversation. He knew you filed the complaints just because he didn’t want to say he was the one who ate Yuuji’s cookies, instead blaming you. Yuuji didn’t talk to you for a day for that, and you took it to heart.

Also, you exaggerated how many times he fucked inside the apartment. By a lot. You knew he had game, or at least you were certain of that seeing how confident he was, but he also hated when Yuuji managed to see some of the girls. Which happened only one time and it was when you moved in. You just filed noise complaints for every little noise you heard from his room, and seeing how the landlord didn’t doubt Sukuna had game either, you won by default.

“So… One black coffee? I don’t know your usual, I’m just covering a friend for today. It’s been a long day,” you say sheepishly, putting some of your hair behind your ear, cringing when you hear your own voice. Suddenly, the screen of the menu is so interesting to you. It’s not like you’re embarrassed as hell to see him here when you’re clumsily trying to understand how things work. It’s not like you’re trying not to look at him at all. Fuck. He is never going to let you live it down if you make a wrong move.

“I can see that,” he adds, serious. He sees your crestfallen look when he finishes his sentence. Maybe he shouldn’t have said that out loud, even if it is pretty obvious. He never saw you this nervous.

“Couldn’t you just fucking lie?” You grit out, composing yourself, pinning him with some sort of rage.

“Not my style, doll,” he answers, raising his shoulders. Your eyes turn into slits and you’re about to say something else when he catches movement behind the counter. The manager.

“Two coffees and a strawberry cake,” he says, getting back to his phone.

You raise an eyebrow. You thought he hated strawberries. You start typing his total when said manager turns to Sukuna.

“Your total is-“

“Man, I haven’t seen you in ages,” the man behind you enthusiastically interrupts you.

“Satoru,” the pink haired man nods, pocketing his phone and making some sort of special handshake with him. They know each other?

“Mind if your coworker here comes home with me?” Sukuna asks the handsome man you have next to you.

Your manager is silent for what feels like 10 long seconds. “Y/N, don’t give into this brute,” he tells you, staring at you behind those dark ass black glasses he wore the entirety of the day. He managed to do the work of three people without breaking a sweat, but he also spent most of his time tasting pastries the chef cooked. He’s nice, you think. But he’s weird as hell. No wonder they’re friends.

“He’s actually my roommate, boss,” you say, smiling up at him. Then you look at Sukuna and your smile drops. “Unfortunately.” Your said roommate flips you off.

“You know what, fuck you. I was just doing you a favour by letting you go earlier, stupid,” Sukuna says, bored.

The white haired man chuckles at the interaction, then tilts his glasses down his nose to look at the man in front of you, amused. “Oh, it’s her, huh.”

Sukuna snarls. “She’s a pain in the ass.”

“Oh, he’s talked about me? What did he say? Is it enough to kick him out and ask for Yuuji’s custody?” you ask, mockingly. Your manager turns to you and you’re almost blinded by how blue his eyes are. You genuinely have to blink a couple of times to make sure you’re still able to see.

He completely ignores your questions, giving you a once over. Then he gets his glasses back on correctly.

“Go home, Y/N, don’t worry. You’ve done an excellent job today. Feel free to come whenever,” he says, giving you a smile as bright as his eyes, then leaves while you think about how your cornea must be damaged now.

“Off the clock, come on,” Sukuna says, taking his phone out again, not sparing you a glance.

“Why don’t you jump off of my dick instead,” you hiss, going to take your purse from the service room. You don’t see the way he tips you anyway, even if you didn’t ask, and takes his order to the nearest table, positioning the cake in front of him. Like he’s waiting for someone.

You get back out front and side eye him, rummaging through your purse violently before sighing defiantly. You forgot your keys.

You turn around to look at Sukuna, who is just a couple of tables away, jumping a little when his eyes are already on you. He gives you a confused look behind his cup of coffee, before putting it down and mouthing “You look stupid, come sit.” You raise one of your eyebrows and you’re going to flip him off when someone bumps into you.

“Yo, cutie,” the man in front of you addresses you. You smile politely and sidestep to the left, getting out of the way, but he follows your movement, positioning himself closer to you.

“I was wondering if you were free now that you don’t have that little apron on,” he tells you languidly, swiping your arm up and down with his hand, stopping at your shoulder. When you try to get it off, he just grips you harder.

“Get your hand off of me or you’re getting kicked in the balls in front of everyone,” you deadpan. He’s slimy, probably conventionally attractive for a lot of girls, but he’s creepy.

He whistles lowly. “I love it when they’re a little feisty,” he smirks, trying to get even closer. You’re raising your knee when he gets pushed off of you and you kick a strong thigh instead. You widen your eyes comically and the man you just kicked winces.

“Man, what the fuck-“ the creep starts, before getting interrupted.

“Don’t touch my girl,” Sukuna seethes. The man takes a step back. Your heart skips a beat. You didn’t think he’d come to your rescue. “Even if her kicks are strong as fuck, I gotta say that. I might have unfortunately just saved your sorry ass’ future sad child,” he says, glancing at you. You giggle.

“There’s no way a fine thing like that is with you,” the man continues blabbering, albeit scared of Sukuna’s imposing feature.

“There’s no way a fine thing like me could ever be with someone like you, you mean,” you say, standing closer to Sukuna.

The man scoffs. “You could do so much better.”

"You? Lying is a sin, motherfucker."

On cue, Sukuna raises one of his arms and drapes it over your shoulder. You’re surprised by how delicately he gets you closer to his body, like he’s thinking you aren’t going to like what he’s doing. You look up at him, laying your hand on his chest, giving him the okay. He stares down at you, swallowing.

“Yeah, I’m lucky,” he says thickly, smirking, before lightly kissing your forehead. The kiss is barely there, you wouldn’t even have felt it if right now you weren’t hyper aware of how intoxicating and warm his body pressed to yours feels. You think you might have a fever from how much the spot he grazed is scorching. Your ears are buzzing, and you don’t distinguish the words the two men are exchanging, getting out of your daze only when the creep exits the cafe with his tail between his legs.

“I didn’t need you, you know,” you say to Sukuna, still looking up, letting your hand fall from his chest. Fuck, he’s ripped.

He nonchalantly gets the bag your manager (grinning behind his hand) is passing him before escorting you out. You notice he didn’t get his arm off of you, and you realise you don’t really mind the soft weight of it. Or maybe you just don’t mind being close to him. Or maybe you don’t mind him at all.

“Now you can tell Yuuji how fucking cool his brother is,” he shrugs, getting you imperceptibly closer to him. You roll your eyes, whining, while he huffs out a laugh.

Back at home, Sukuna goes to take a shower, leaving you with a yapping Yuuji. He’s telling you about his day at school and you get your phone out to read the text you just received, noticing the ping sound.

Worst roommate ever: the cake is urs. eat it. or don’t. idc

[justawriterofstuff]

Let's mess around

(MDNI, please reblog to support my writing.)

"Oh my gosh Jason, what the fuck are you doing?" you hissed at him, as you felt your pajama bottoms pulled down to your ankles, your panties pushed to the side,

"I don't like sleeping in a separate room from you." Jason replied, his fingers getting dangerously close to your area.

"Jason, we can't. The whole purpose of being here was to make sure Tim had the right incentive to lead the Titans." you whispered harshly, ignoring how his other hand came up and palmed your breast.

This was the first night of the week Jason and you had to observe Tim, and the fact that Jason had snuck out of his guest room, and into yours didn't bode well.

"Doll, you have no one to blame but yourself. When we were sparring and you put me in a headlock with your thighs..." he trailed off, slipping under your bra, and pinching your nipple.

A faint moan escaped you, and you put a hand over your mouth.

"Jason, I swear to-"

"It'll be quick and quiet, Ma. I just need your help taking care of this problem." he replied, his finger grazing your now swollen clit.

One of these days, you were going to kill him.

Maybe not now.

"Jason-" you stopped as you felt his teeth sink into the side of your breast, your heart stuttering a moment. It was dark to where you couldn't really see him, but you knew how he looked and felt like the back of your hand.

"I'm going all in, doll, please let me." he replied, his tongue tracing the side of your neck to your jaw.

Motherfuck-

"F-fine, but you better not make any noise." you relented, already feeling the fat blunt of his cock trace the opening of your pussy.

Jesus christ, was a few expert touches and bites from Jason was all it took to get you going? Were you really that big of a slut?

The answer appeared in the form of Jason shoving into you, a choked out gasp escaping your mouth.

Holy fuck, no matter how many times they had sex, it always took you a minute to adjust to his size.

You're basically grounding your teeth together as he splits you apart, his hands cupping and rubbing your breasts. Your bra was hastily torn off-one of many, thanks to Jason's methods-his fingers rubbing and pinching your nipples.

Once you figured out his game, you wanted to punch him.

Jason was trying to make you moan out loud.

His hips began a slow, steady, and deep thrust. He'd go all the way in you, and all the way out, the tip of his cock tickling your entrance as he speared right in.

And goddammitt, if it didn't feel so fucking good. Jason nestled upon you, his face buried in the crook of your shoulder, biting and sucking on your skin as he continued to thrust into you.

You couldn't even cover your mouth with your hands as he held on to them, soft pants escaping out of Jason.

And maybe by sheer willpower, or just stubbornness, you locked your jaw so you couldn't make a sound, only breathy gasps escaping you every time he thrusted in you.

Jason then pulled back, mouth giving you sloppy kisses, as he thoroughly tasted the inner of your mouth.

And that's where you were shit out of luck.

Now that he was making his tongue go in your mouth, there was nothing stopping you from moaning.

"You feel so fucking good on my cock, Ma, just my favorite pussy." he whispered against your mouth, his hands on your hips pulling you down and forcing to take him in deeper.

God, you weren't going to make it alive at this point.

Your legs began to shake, the first tell-tale sign that you're orgasm was drawing near.

And Jason was a very selfless lover; he'd make you cum two times over before he'd let himself cum once.

"Aw, Ma, you're squeezing me so tight. You feeling that good baby?" he spoke, bracing himself as he thrusts got rougher and harder, his hand reaching down and rubbing your clit.

Him doing that was your undoing; your body squeezed around his cock, and he grunted with effort to keep going.

Of course you came first, and he followed right after, collapsing on top of you.

Now, here you were, a mess in the sheets with a giant freak.

You tried to sit up to scold him or at least push him off, but considering you'd gone through the wringer, you decided sleep was the better option after all.

The next morning...

"And that is why I put you and Y/N in separate guest rooms." Tim said, his arms crossed as they held a Titans meeting.

Jason glared but you could feel a blush come over your skin.

This was going to be one long week indeed.