#the only thing missing is the shivers
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pomegranighte · 2 years ago
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WHY is this Tetanus shot almost taking so much out of me as the first Covid booster??
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deadrlngers · 2 years ago
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i was tagged by @shadowglens and @risingsh0t to make some ocs in this picrew. thank you so much besties, i loved this picrew so much!! <3
vesper moxley (cp2077) • victoria gray (cp2077) joelle knight (fo4) • nina bower (fo4) selene (oblivion) • hiraeth (skyrim)
tagging: @uldwynsovs @arklay @devilbrakers @nuclearstorms @morvaris @girlbosselrond @indorilnerevarine @moiragf @cultistbase @faarkas @steelport @nokstella @reaperkiller @malefiicarum @brujah @calenhads @lightwardens @aelyosos and whoever else wants to do this or that i missed bc i'm terribly forgetful sorry!!
#tag games#warning i accidentally infodumped in the tags i'm sorry ignore me 😔 ckjsdhdskj#made this based on relationships idk why jdksd. victoria is vesper's bestie 4 life & first gf. joelle & nina my fave wlw married couple#and then for the last one. listen. i've resurected a very old oc and i'm still not so sure but i miss skyrim so bad. they idea is that#they are related as in hiraeth is a descent of selene bc i think dragonborn=martin septim's child> family line going forward until we#have our little hiraeth. i never thought of selene & martin having a kid in canon (only stupid ideas of an au) but u know. what if. she#still ends up in the shivering isles tho and becomes sheogorath. hiraeth's bloodline having like an emperor & a daedric prince. OK KING!!#much to think about tbh. not sure if they/she(probably he too. thinking of their gender as therapy for myself) will stick as nord or maybe#wood elf too like selene. or maybe even dunmer?? it makes no sense fjkdfhk IDK. literally i HAVE so much to think for them#also their name came to me bc i read the welsh word Hiraeth that basically means 'a mixture of longing yearning nostalgia homesickness'#+ 'an expression of an empty desire and grief over a past life or place' and with drangonborns i like to push the idea of 'maybe they were#actual dragons in a past life and now human' u know?? so i thought it was sooo fitting. i also like the idea of the more dragon souls#they absorb the more their features turn..dragonesque?? draconic jkfdhfkdsj idk i love them very much (:#(i have no idea how dragon in past life + martin's bloodline can fit but i'm literally only vibing rn)#i want to replay skyrim SO bad but i need someone to hold my hand so tightly as they help me set up mods for this game bc i never played#skyrim with mods (collective gasp) and i have no idea of what to pick ecc especially bc everything..breaks with a snap of fingers so yea ri#SORRY for talking so much i get excited about new things (my oc in this case) so easily..#oc: vesper#oc: victoria#oc: joelle#oc: nina#oc: selene#oc: hiraeth#ALSO FUCK OFF JOELLE IS SOOOOOOOOO CUTE HERE!!!!!!!!!!!
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stargirlrchive · 5 months ago
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simon’s work wife
one — two — three — four
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the transition in your relationship—if you could call it that—with simon was easier than you anticipated. he practically herded you into his apartment.
helping you pack, doing all the heavy lifting, and grunting softly when you’d ask if some of your decor would clash with his. “wh’tver you want in our house will go, doll.”
our house. our.
shivers ran down your spine when you’d hear him refer to your things as our. you didn’t mind it—albeit it did confuse you a bit because just two weeks ago you were single, and now you were living with your lieutenant, and sleeping in his bed, and he’d cook for you—even knew how you liked your coffee in the morning.
the only weird thing was that he didn’t touch you.
well he did, like placing a heavy hand on your lower back to guide you, or pressing up against you to grab a cup from the shelves because you couldn’t reach it, or letting his thumb trail down your throat as you spoke to him.
but he didn’t touch you.
that plagued your thoughts all day, even as you slipped into bed with him. letting out a small huff as he turned to face you in the dim light of the room.
“what’s wrong?”
“nothing.”
you could tell his brows pinched together but you didn’t mention it. picking at your cuticles to stop yourself from looking at him.
you were still so confused; he clearly wanted you if his actions meant anything. and you couldn’t deny that anytime he’d refer to you as his ‘missus’ that warmth curled in your belly and left you a mess.
a needy, horny mess. it was his fault really.
he grunted, thick fingers wrapping around your soft thigh to pull you closer to him, “we ain’t supposed to go to sleep mad at each other.”
your nose scrunched up at him as you somehow found yourself under him, “and who sets these rules?”
he stared at you for a second before that same hand that was curled around your thigh now moved to curl around your throat gently, his eyes glued to your lips.
“me.”
you huff again, but make no move to move from under him—a move simon doesn’t miss. “what’s go ya’ so worked up, sweetheart?”
the gravel in his voice had your skin heating up, nipples pebbling as you met his gaze, “you.”
“me?”
“mhm.”
the amusement was clear in his eyes, staring down at you as he let his weight sink into you and you had to bite back the moan that threatened to leave your lips.
god, you felt pathetic. just the feeling of his cock on your belly, the scent of him, had you reeling.
“tell me what you need.”
one of his hands trailed lower, thumb barely ghosting over your nipple and a breathless whine left your mouth. “well—i-i need you to perform your duties-”
a rumbly laugh left his mouth as his nose dipped down to your throat, licking up your neck and nipping softly, “my duties?”
heat coiled in your belly, arousal pulling between your thighs as you tried to control your breathing. “and what duties have i been falling short on?”
your mind went hazy as he cupped your breast, lowering his hips to press his cock against your cunt, heavy and thick and just there. teasing you further by not moving.
“have i been neglecting my missus?”
that pulled a moan straight from your parted lips, hips bucking upwards to grind against his cock as he grunted lowly. “y-yes, been neglecting me.”
he nipped at your neck, thick fingers easily snapping away that lacy fabric that sat on your hips as he growled out softly, “m’sorry, baby. i’ll make it up to you.”
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swearimnevergivingup · 2 months ago
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so uh i'm thinking about ex-boyfriend!nanami. you broke up with him 3 years ago but he's never been able to move on. he's tried everything. everything under the sun, and none of it has ever worked.
he isn't even sure if forgetting you is what he wants. he thinks he wants to let you live in the spot carved out for you in his heart, whether that hurts him or not.
and when you run into him in the lobby of your apartment building? one thing leads to another and you find yourself splayed out on the couch obscenely, the oversized shirt you were wearing hiked up to your waist as you slowly part your legs for him.
the world blurs around you.
all you can think about is this very moment.
the significance of what you’re doing is entirely palpable to you. you’re inviting him in, not just to your house, but into your heart again. 
breathing heavily, your eyes follow his every movement in anticipation as his fingers dance across your inner thighs.
his hands slip underneath the waistband of your panties, two fingers sliding in between your slick folds. you tense a little at the sensation as he parts them, the rough pads of his fingers prodding the sensitive bud of nerves that makes you shiver and whine.
“god,” he groans. “i’ve fucking missed this pussy.”
you let out a little laugh at the foul language that slips from his tongue. it’s been so long since you’ve heard his voice, and even longer since you’ve felt his touch.
“missed your cock too, kento,” you murmur, eager to show that you’ve been equally longing for him, if not more. you want to hear more of him, so you reach your hand out to palm at his erection. he’s rock hard, and there’s a little wet spot on his pants from the precum.
“fuck,” he mutters, tilting his head back. “it’s been a while.”
you giggle at that, a little woozy from the wine. “it’s been a while for me too.”
“n-no, you don’t understand,” his grip on your hips tightens as he struggles to maintain his composure. “you were the last.”
oh.
your eyes widen at that revelation, stopping your movements to fully look at him. “w-why haven’t you—”
for the second time tonight, you find yourself in complete disbelief. you were the last person he slept with? that had been more than 2 years ago - way more than enough time for things to change, for someone else to come along.
but then again, nanami’s always been a serious man, and by extension, that applied to his love life too. never one to seek out casual hookups, that man dated to marry. 
“i didn’t want anyone else. only you,” he murmurs. “that hasn’t changed.”
your heart is not the only thing that clenches at the raw sincerity in his voice. 
“say it again,” you whisper. “i want— i want to hear you say it again.”
“i only want you.” nanami must have realised how much you needed to hear that, the same way he had needed your confirmation earlier, because his voice is more resolute this time. “and this—” his hand moves to cup yours, guiding your movements as he slowly drags your hand over his cock. “s’all for you, sweetheart.”
one hand reaches for the back of your neck, holding you tenderly as he peppers kisses on your lips and all over your neck.
the other hand, though, moves deviously between your thighs, a singular digit plunging into your soaked cunt. 
nanami relishes the way you gasp into his mouth, back arching off the couch as all sorts of pretty sounds drip from your flushed lips.
i love you.
i still love you, after all this time.
he doesn’t say it out loud - no, it isn’t the right time. 
but he repeats it loudly enough inside his head, hoping that somehow, you might hear it too. 
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a/n: this is part of my upcoming work: i never moved from where you left me (nsfw)
there are apologies to be made, lost time to reclaim, and parts of each other waiting to be rediscovered. and yet, you know him like an old song. you know the words, carved into the lining of your skin, you know its melody, a soft hum that echoes in the chambers of your heart. nanami kento is that lingering rhythm, that pained harmony, existing deep within the cracks of memory and longing - an unfading symphony in your soul.
comment if you would like to be tagged! <3
edit: some snippets here! taglist closed :)
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screampied · 1 year ago
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"Just the tip" trope w/ jjk men?👁️👁️
໒꒱ ₊˚ ‘ JUST THE TIP, GIRL ! ’﹒⺡
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ᡣ𐭩 feat. sukuna, choso, nanami, geto, gojo
ᡣ𐭩 total wc. 3.2k
ᡣ𐭩 warnings. fem! reader, mdni, overstim, unprotected, true form sukuna, praise, dirty talk, quickies, dry humping, whiney men, choking, implied breeding, hitting it raw.
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࣪. ᨳ GOJO SATORU. ࣪
“princess, you’re killing me,” gojo whimpers, feeling you casually move your hips against him. he’s staring at you, glossed lips just trembling. with two rough hands attached to your waist, he faintly strokes a thumb beneath the fabric that stuck beside your skin. “the tip. please.”
“wait a little,” you hum, making his back hit against the softly padded pillow. gojo grunts, the smooth part of your panties glissading back and forth on his length. his boxers was lazily pulled down, and he was all exposed��all warm. you felt a tiny veiny poke through, skimming against your entrance and you giggle before leaning up close to his ear. “oh sorry, did you say something? i can’t understand when you mumble, baby.”
gojo lightly throws his head back, grabbing a chunk of your ass before his right thigh bounces in utter anticipation. “f-fuck, don’t whisper in my ear like that,” and his voice was so shaky—he starts to pant frantically, just imagining being inside of you again. “you fuckin’ heard me.”
“remember who’s on top of you,” you tease, pressing a kiss near the corner of his mouth. for a split second, you heard gojo gulp, bright blue irises meeting your gaze. now that made him hard. shivers run all over his body the moment he feels you wrap a hand over his shaft, staring to realign yourself. “but fine, lie back…princess.”
soft puffs of breath escape past his mouth as he stares at you, a near smirk stretching against his pink lips. “bratty girl. quit talkin’ ‘n just ride me, how about that.”
“for all i care, you can just get yourself off,” you snicker. after you speak, gojo immediately shuts up the moment his leaky tip just barely hovers beneath your slick entrance.
with a clenched jaw, he presses his lips shut, a soft whine running past his lips to moment you start to jerk. “lot of mouth for how needy you are to be inside, ‘toru.”
“s-shut up,” he grumbles, and it’s cute. the attitude in his voice. the slight rasp to it, even the adorable flush that crept onto both sides of his temples.
gojo craved more, his mouth started to heavily salivate just imagining being inside of you. pumping you full of thick inches for the umpteenth time. “god, i just— i need you. know i said the tip but i just want you.”
you pepper a kiss near the corner of his mouth, and his first reaction was to kiss back ; he misses, making him cause himself to dreadfully whine.
lips forming a sweet desperate ‘o’ he leans back before gripping your hip tightly. you whisper, slowly sinking down into his length. “you can never make up your mind,” you purr, and the silk that ran against your voice.
“say one thing then you want another,” you continue, and he leans into your touch. he grows hard inside you, warmth swallowing you entirely.
gojo’s ears perked at the sound of your voice, the softness air that danced against his earlobe from your breathe.
he couldn’t help but pant, awaiting to have you sunk all the way down to the base. “you keep whinin' everytime i don’t give your lips any attention,” and for a brief moment, gojo’s eyes meet yours again, he feels so hot. you talking to him in such a sweet way like that only makes him feel ten times hotter. “you want a kiss?”
“i … i wanna kiss ‘n pump you full at the same time,” he says in a single breath. the hold you had on him was so heady.
gojo can’t stop himself from feeling all over your body, he felt giddy. in the best way possible. the way your cunt gradually went down on him. you made sure to take your time just to tease him a bit more. gojo’s pout doesn’t take long to make an appearance on him. “just…touch me… just want a taste of my girl while s-she’s on top.”
but the moment you were all the way down…
you felt his dick stretch you out for how many times again, you suppress a moan. leaning in, you squeeze gojo’s lips together playfully—bringing him into a sloppy kiss. his favorite kind of kisses.
the kind where your tongue would slide against his in such a messy way, he’d suck on yours before moaning right into your mouth. a single make out session with gojo was enough to make you pulse through your pulled to the side panties.
“i’m n-not gonna last with you grinding against me like that,” he whimpers, nearly having the wind being snatched out of him the moment you start up a rhythmic grind. “ride me jus’ like that,” he’d pant, and as you tantalizingly ghost a hand up his abs, you intentional make him shudder within your hold.
gojo pauses, grabbing your wrist. with a swift lick of his lips, he uses another hand to spank your ass, another to make your hand wrap around his neck. “choke me. choke me while y-you ride me, baby. please?”
. ᨳ NANAMI KENTO.
“i don’t want you to overwork yourself, sweetheart,” nanami says in a hushed tone. in the midst of you having your hands kneading through flour, you’re bent over the counter.
“have i,” he started, pausing to kiss near your nape. he was so close you felt his bulge prop up against you, “told you,” he halts again, a hand snaking around your waist, “how pretty you look in sundresses?”
“no,” you nearly slip off a moan, trying to avert your gaze back towards the bowl that had your hands covered in dough. his touch felt so good, he was gentle with you. nanami sneaks a kiss near the corner of your neck before you gasp. he pants your legs just a bit before kissing down your back. chastely. “the food, baby.”
nanami huffs, softly ghosting a thumb beside the exposed skin near your back. “you’re an amazing cook sweetheart, but ‘m hungry for something else,” and his words were so warm, smooth and all. the moment he murmurs tender in a soft voice against your ear. it was enough to make you immediately throb. “i want a little of your attention, just…a little.”
“okay,” you mutter, gnawing on the skin of your lip once he hurriedly moves your panties towards the side. a dripping soaked mess, nanami couldn’t help but stare for a bit. he was already insanely hard. his touch, it was so sensually smooth. with a single hand on your hip, you let off a sweetened mewl once you suddenly feel the throbbing tip of nanami’s dick glide against your folds. “k-kento, fuck.”
“missed bein' inside my wife,” he rasps, and he’s so pushed up against you it makes him dizzy. nanami eases his was inside, stretching you gingerly before you left off a sweet whimper. “you always know how to bend over for me like a good girl,” he purrs, bringing another amount of kisses towards the back part of your neck.
his breathing becomes unsteady and irregular, the thin fabric of your sundress, he has a firm grip on it. “was…was gonna give you the tip but i just wanna pump you full, sweetheart,” and you bite your lip, feeling the tips of his fingers brush against your ass. “give you.. a baby or two.”
nanami had you leaning forward, your hands were still in the bowl of ingredients before he hesitates. his voice cracks, pitching high for a concise moment. for the first time, you were hearing a needy nanami. “will you let me stuff you full? tell me in that pretty voice of yours.”
his words, it struck right into your heart and in the process—right between your legs. you felt sticky, a bit moist just from nanami grinding up against you. whenever it came to you, he just couldn’t contain himself.
“y-yes, please kento,” you’d whimper out, feeling two big hands of his caress your ass. he groans, so thick and big…yet so tender with the way he relaxed himself inside. such gummy walls hugging him so tight and close, it makes his jaw tense in a thirsty manner. “just fuck me, baby. i want you so bad.”
“wanted you more,” he whispers. a stroke of his, lightly shoving his hips into you—you gasp, nearly dropping the dishes. “s-sorry, honey. might wanna hold on. ‘s gonna get a bit messy,” and as he says that, a soft chortles flies past his lips. nanami teasingly runs the cold band of his watch down your back, watching you cutely squirm. “but i’ll clean you right up, i love when my sweetheart’s a little nasty.”
ᨳ SUKUNA RYŌMEN.
ironically enough, you’d be the one asking sukuna. he’d have the snuggest grin on his lips, buff arms crossed towards his chest whilst you straddled him.
“speak, girl,” and you suddenly grow shy, being propped up on the king's lap. his voice was a deep pitched low, fully stirring you up from the inside. sukuna cups your chin, making it hard for you to avoid his gaze before he murmurs. “tell me what you most desire, little concubine.”
“i want…” you start to speak before trailing off. his gaze, it was never not intimidating. for a split second, you could just about make out a mere small smirk lingering against his lips. sukuna brings a hand toward your waist, softly stroking your skin before you intake a sharp breath. “i want to feel you f-from the inside, ‘kuna. just the tip, please?”
“awwww,” he purrs, and he’s sat manspread. his grip he had on your hip, the way his fingers tenderly strokes beneath the thin straps of your panties. needless to say, it had you soaked.
“just can’t get enough, huh? was last night not enough to satisfy you?” and he takes pride in the pout that goes against your lips. “go ahead then. show me how needy you can be.”
his words had such smugness to it, you whimpered with such exasperation. eagerly springing his length out, not wanting to waste anymore time. sukuna stares at you, a low grunt slithers past his lips before you’re just hovering over his fat tip.
it was glistening with pre-cum, you let off a soft coo, making his tip swipe and smear all over your glistening folds. “s-sukuna, i want you. i want more.”
“greedy girl,” he snickers, and you suddenly felt small. being sat on his lap, his frame was so big. a lot bigger and broader than you. sukuna’s base was hefty, it jolted against his leg the moment you pushed yourself forward. he leans in as if he was about to kiss you. instead, he cups your grin again, multiple eyes staring right into the depths of your soul before whispering out a husky, “no one’s stopping you, princess.”
you moaned, his words was enough to get you dripping like a faucet between your legs—how embarrassing…
within moments, you sink down a bit further, and he’s huge. you feel his dick reach everywhere, such thickness it has your mouth salivating. “f-fuck, ‘kuna,” and his ears perk at the sound of your voice. the bitter sweetness to it. you were always so whiney, growing quiet every few seconds to hear the squelches your pussy made in retaliation. huffing and puffing, your eye-lids grew heavy, he was insanely packed. you felt him everywhere, and once you finally sat down against his base, you pull him into a hug. “so.. so big, stretching me.”
“…oh, don’t tell me that’s all,” sukuna grumbled cheekily, feeling your frame. he creates a fake pout, unreservedly mimicking the pout you had on your own face earlier. “you said just the tip but you can barely handle a few inches, concubine.”
he chuckles darkly, watching your cute face fall. you try to pivot your hips but not even seconds later. you end up making a mess on his lap, bundles of nerves sending you shockwaves. sukuna smiles, bringing a kiss towards the corner of your mouth. “hm. looks like someone needs more training,” and with a sly eyebrow raise, he brings you towards his chest, petting your hair. “if you can barely handle the tip, what makes you think you can handle both of my cocks, princess?”
ᨳ SUGURU GETŌ.
geto would be occupying himself with something, you’re doing nothing but of course—straddling his lap. not a single thought in your mind.
he doesn’t mind it, he enjoys feeling your body all propped up against his. he takes the opportunity to gently snake an arm around your waist, holding you close. although, at this particular point you’d be basically cockwarming him.
“just the tip, you say, suguru,” you utter with a mere hint of sass on your tone. he smiles to himself, your back facing his chest. he’s so warmish, his body heat nearly radiates off of you. skin to skin, it forever felt so intimate. despite the two of you doing nothing but just staying still. “you just wanna fuck me.”
“princess, i wanna hold you and fuck you. ‘s a difference,” and his voice was a bit hoarse—it was unintentionally attractive. he’s sneaking a plethora of kisses down your neck, giving your collarbone a soft suck before he reaches down between your legs. “spread these for me, don’t be shy.”
such thickness to him, it made you swallow, recollecting your thoughts…speaking of thoughts, as mentioned earlier…
your brain was empty. all you could focus on was how stretched you were getting. you were soaking his shaft down to its full supreme—and the last thing you expect is for geto to start rubbing mean circles against your clit. your body’s initial reaction was to lean back against him, and he chuckles, cooing out a, “ooooh.”
“s-suguruuu, fuck,” you’d sniffle, feeling the rotation of his palm creating a circulation motion. he was always so good with his hands. while being stuffed full, he had a free hand maneuvering all sorts of shapes over your folds. “feel so full, jus’ fuck me already.”
“say pretty please ‘n i’ll consider it, baby.”
“you heard what i sai—”
“girl, don’t try me.”
you moan, feeling him spank your cunt at your abrupt sudden brattiness. as your head slumps back against geto, he caresses your entrance before grabbing ahold of your hips. “let’s try this again, yeah?”
through clenched teeth and a cute pout, you huff out a, “…pretty please, suguru.”
he chuckles, and you shudder at the brief sensation of his throbbing mushroom tip just sensually dragging against your core. you gnaw on your lip, digging your nails into the thin fabric of his shorts.
he adores your body language, how adorable—your back arches, and you can barely hold still. all due to his touch, his words, and even the warmth of his breath colliding against your skin.
“good girl. ‘s more like it,” he whispers, and you couldn’t hold in your moans the moment he starts to make you bounce on his cock. you’re a mess, head still leaning back against his cheek, geto faintly wraps a hand around your throat. “should hear how silly you sound for me. whiney girl, fuck…”
and that’s when a hand of his roams up your body, feeling near your chest. he gives your perky nipples a soft pinch and you whine, feeling yourself continue to grow hotter and hotter between your legs. “want attention here too, baby?”
pathetically, you nod, still taking inch after inch inside of your gummy walls. “course ya do,” he teases, sneaking a kiss near the inside of your neck again. “but before we do that,” and you feel your hips come to a terse stop. you pout, feeling two hands of geto’s rapidly stop your hips, and he pulls you closer so he could speak.
with a hand gently caressing near your throat, another prying your legs open for him once more…edging you, he says, “we gotta work on those manners. not gonna let a brat cum on me, sorry princess.”
ᨳ CHOSO KAMO.
“baby,” he says in a sweet, drowsy murmur. choso has you laid flat down. while trailing and skimming a few fingers down your spine—he makes your tummy meekly press right into the cushioned mattress.
“i wanna.. i wanna try something,” and as he’s speaking, you grow quiet, enjoying the hot touch of his fingers. “remember when you asked to see how fast i could last with jus’ the tip in you?”
“mhmm.” you oblige, teasingly hum as a response. you could hear the near shakiness coming from his voice. albeit, you couldn’t particularly see his gaze, but you’d bet money he was just staring right at your body…specifically, from the waist down.
choso kisses his teeth, and you hear a bit of shuffling, “okay. ‘cause, you’re all laid out for me ‘n i just wanna…” he precipitously pauses, feeling you playfully wriggle your ass against him and he groans. “don’t…don’t do that, do tease me.”
“then go ahead, ‘m waiting for you, choso.” you’d titter, awaiting for him to finally come inside—it doesn’t take long.
momentarily, just seconds later…his fat leaky tip was swiftly rubbing against your hole. he starts to pant, long strands of hair running down his back from each particular moment.
he was heavily impatient.
his mind roamed, just a single look at your slick entrance and he’s licking his lips. all he saw was his imagination of loads of his own seed pouring out of your folds.
“nice ‘n warm for me,” he huffs out, clouds of his own breath departing from his lips. choso’s ears, the very tips of them burned with an scorching hot. “always take me so well.”
“f-fuckkk, choso,” you’d gasp, feeling your cunt swallow him easily. he was slow, a single hand attached to your waist.
a soft whimper leaves from choso’s mouth, simply from the way your ass was all pressed up against him. with just a single bit of a hover, he leans forward and he delays his weight just briefly on top of you. “told you, could barely handle just the tip.”
“just lie back ‘n let me give this body the—the attention it deserves,” he grunts, and his stuttering was quite cute.
choso lost all of his composure the moment he was just a few slim inches inside your cunt. squeezing him down so tightly, he watches as his own length gradually disappear between your folds.
“soaking me so good, should be a crime to be this w-wet,” and he nearly finds himself drooling, letting off a cute gasp once he hears that loud squelch. you gripped around him so good, it gave him whiplash … his head spun.
his breathing became erratic, and whenever choso grows out to be excited or far too buoyant than he needed to be, he ends up finishing early. and that’s exactly what he did. a flush goes over his face, as well as with a pout.
“s-shit,” he whimpers, barely even lasting as long as he anticipated. but he couldn’t help it. not with how tightly you maintained a heavy grip on him with your sweetened cunt.
his dick, it had length for sure, and poked against every orifice throughout your sweet cunt.
“wet girl,” he purrs, and starts to ramble to himself, observing his own thick ropes slowly spew outside of you. choso grows curious, using a thumb to swipe some excess of his cum off of your entrance, smearing it against your folds with a weary horny grin before plugging it back in. “my baby’s s-so sloppy.. should pull you close to me ‘n make you taste it.”
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tonycries · 11 months ago
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Initiation!
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Synopsis. “Just a small initiation, nothing too serious.” Couldn’t be too hard, right? So why are you - the all-new frat sweetheart - being pinned to the bed and stuffed full from all ends by your frat brothers?
Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader, Geto Suguru x Reader, Fushiguro Toji x Reader, brief Nanami x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! reader, fratboy! JJK men, gangbang, frat sweetheart! reader, cumplay, choking, oral (male + female), anal, double penetration, cunnilingus, Suguru is MEAN - so is everyone else, some heinous things idek how to tag, unprotected, no curses! AU, marking, pet names (princess, darling, doll), swearing.
Word count. 4.8k
A/N. Am not the same person I was before I wrote this…
Art by @_3aem on X.
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Tequila was your best friend when Suguru and Satoru weren’t around.
Which is probably why you were five shots deep before 9pm, heavy bass thrumming through your veins and sleek tabletop steady under your rocky heels.
Everything was a blur. The pulsing neon lights, cheers following your every sway and twirl, and the atmosphere heavy with beer and laughter in that heady Jujutsu Phi frat house. 
You almost miss that familiar flash of cloudy white locks and those narrowed black eyes greedily watching your hips to the beat. Almost. 
An excited exclamation of “There’s our all-new sweetheart!”. And the world tilts.
Falling down really does feel good. Especially when the ground is so warm - and smells faintly of overpriced cologne. 
“Careful, there, Satoru. Wouldn’t wanna hurt the sweetheart right before initiation.” 
A pair of strong arms underneath you, and a deep voice hot against your ear. “Havin’ a lotta fun without us, huh?”
Oh, you’d recognize those devastatingly handsome faces anywhere. You blink, eyebrows furrowed slightly at your best friends as you tried to focus on their words. “Sweetheart? Me?”
To your right, Suguru nods slowly, a sly smile playing on his lips. “Absolutely. Who else? No one better we can think of, darling.” 
Satoru’s eager voice chimes in, “As presidents, and the only men to binge Bridgerton with you, we love you. The frat brothers love you too, especially our supervisor.”
“Mmm, I dunno. What do I hafta do?” face heating and words slurring together, in your alcohol-induced haze, you miss the devilish glance shared between the two. 
Satoru chuckles, a dark glint in his eyes, “Just a small initiation, nothing too serious.”
Your laughter is infectious, and without much hesitation you raise your empty shot glass in toast, “Hmm, deal! To the newest frat sweetheart! How hard can it be?”
---
The consequences aren’t half as fun as the chaos.
Wincing at the dull ache reverberating in your head, you struggle to make sense of your surroundings in the dim lighting. Still disoriented and bleary-eyed, you sink into soft navy bed sheets.
Ah, soft. So soft. Warm, with a tinge of candied apples.
Satoru.
Slight panic setting in, and Satoru’s room swaying ever-so-slightly, you try to will away the overplayed pop pounding from the party still raging below - focusing on the whispered conversation at the foot of the bed..
“---blast at the party------”
“------frat---sweetheart.”
Head snapping up in a daze, the word “sweetheart” echoes in your ears. 
Something heated and prickly pools in your stomach as fragments of memories from not too long ago begin to piece themselves together. 
Your dawning realization - and sense of impending doom - is interrupted by a soft hum of delight
“Well, well, look who’s finally awake - our dear sweetheart.” Satoru teases, while Suguru, with his arms crossed, chuckles.
Liquor suddenly nowhere on your mind, your heart races - something about the suggestive gleam in their eyes doesn’t exactly ease your nerves. Your cheeks flare, the room feels suddenly smaller, the air thicker. 
You sit up, rubbing your temples, and the two of them exchange loaded glances that send shivers creeping down your spine.
Satoru pushes himself off the wall with a devious smirk, taking a deliberate step closer. “How’s our sweetheart feeling? You knocked out for a good hour or two, y’know. Was almost worried you’d miss the initiation~”
“What the fuck did I agree to?” you mutter to yourself. Yet, Suguru answers anyway, his voice a dangerous purr, “Just a little test of courage, darling. But don’t you worry; we’ll take very good care of you.”
Satoru nods, his gaze intense. “It’s all in good fun, princess. You’ll see.” His warm breath grazes your face as they tower over you, inching closer and closer. “Now, you wouldn’t go back on your word, would you?”
Goosebumps erupt along your shoulders at the proximity - and the realization - all the way down to where your thighs were desperately squeezing together. Shit.
Gojo Satoru and Geto Suguru. It was hard to be best friends with them for years and not hear about the whispered rumors of how they were in bed. Enough to send a woman to heaven - or the hospital - they said. And you couldn’t deny that ugly little part of you that was sinfully curious.
A beat passes in the suddenly charged air. As if they were waiting. Studying your reaction - like predators stalking their cornered prey. Will you run away? Will you fight? Will you submit to them completely?
The room is silent, except for the distant thump of the music below, seemingly miles away. 
One. Two
Finally - not trusting yourself to speak - you manage a nod. 
Darkened blue eyes meet Suguru’s half-lidded ones, a silent understanding passing between them before resting on you - splayed out on the bed and tight dress hiking up so enticingly.
Oh. 
Oh, shit. You were in for it.
Without warning, Satoru surges forward, lips catching yours in a bruising kiss. You whine against his soft lips, the distinct taste of Baileys and Satoru completely filling your senses - you almost don’t register the slow, purposeful trail of kisses Suguru leaves down your heated neck. Almost.
Skin searing where his lips linger along your jawline, Suguru murmurs, vibrations sending a jolt of electricity right to your core. “Shhh, relax, darling. We’ll take care of everything.”
Maybe it was the way Suguru’s words were dripping in lust and something dangerous, tongue darting out to lick a long, sensual stripe up your neck.
Or maybe it was the way Satoru was sloppily licking at your lips, thumb pushing your chin down to suck on your tongue with his candy lips. But the room was spinning - and this time, it wasn’t the alcohol. 
“T-Toru- Sugu-” a muffled whine you barely even recognize rips from the back of your throat - and it was like something snapped. Maybe their restraint, maybe their sanity - definitely you by the end of this.
A hand hot on your thigh - Suguru’s or Satoru’s? You don’t have the time to wonder, the sequins hit the ground before you even realize what is happening. 
Skin-tight dress now in tatters on Satoru’s carpeted floor, you shudder as the cold air hits your heated skin. Large hands everywhere. Cupping your ass, tweaking your hardened nipples through your bra. Leaving your underwear in such a disarray as if it killed them to see you clothed.
“Shit. Suguru, look at this.” Satoru’s groans lowly, predatory gaze transfixed on the sight of your dripping cunt..
“Oh fuck, darling. Were you all ready and expecting this, hm? Our perfect lil’ slut.” Suguru’s smiles sinfully as he looms closer, a long finger playing teasingly with the thin fabric of your now-soaked panties.
You buck your hips, desperate for more fiction, as a manicured nail lightly grazes your swollen folds. Shit, and you thought Suguru would be the nicer of the two. “Please, Sugu.”
“Now now. Behave, darling. Wouldn’t want to get off on a wrong start to the initiation.” Suguru hums, pulling off your panties completely as Satoru’s iron-hold grip on your hips pin you helplessly to the bed. You struggle pathetically, leaking pussy aching for more more more.
And Satoru - your ever-merciful Satoru - listens to your desperate keens. Because, agonizingly slow, he drops to his knees, eye-level with your quivering pussy. 
“I’ll be taking this as payment, princess.” he hums, hot breath hitting your cunt in a way that almost makes you miss the way he snatches your wet panties right out of Suguru’s hands. As if a prize to be won.
Your face burns at the humiliation - or maybe at the way strong hands wrestle your thighs open. You gasp at the burn of the stretch, tense air grazing your throbbing clit as Suguru lets out a low whistle in appreciation.
You were so exposed. So vulnerable. And these fuckers hadn’t even taken off their goddamn shirts yet. 
Mouth opening to retort - or maybe beg for an ounce of friction, just anything that would-
Bang!
Dazed, you whirl your head towards where the door had now slammed open. In your lust-induced haze, you barely register the notion that someone else was going to see you so spread so shamefully and dripping all over Satoru’s sheets. Ah, they were going to scream. They were going to run away-
“Aww, already started without me?” a deep voice rumbles, raspy, dangerous. “Shit, these two brats weren’t kiddin’, you’re such a doll, aren’t you?” 
Satoru’s smirk grows at the slick pooling at your core as you make out just who it was that stood so imposingly at the door. 
Toji Fushiguro.
Someone you’d heard of more than you’d seen - for several reasons. Known around campus as the long-standing supervisor for Jujutsu Phi, but known more popularly amongst students as the man with a dick to die for.
The shutting of the heavy wooden door reverberates across the electrifying air inside. Your mouth drops into a soft oh as you spot the rock-hard cock straining furiously against Toji’s trousers, a dark patch of precum already pooling at the tip.
Oh. No wonder they say his dick can split you in half. 
Eyes following his every purposeful step towards the bed, you absent-mindedly wonder whether your best friends were hiding a matching achingly hard cocks. 
“Oh, fuck yes. Such a pretty pussy.” Toji appraises your cunt, greedily eyeing the way your walls flutter around nothing, slick pooling where Satoru was but a few inches away from where you needed him the most.
“Yo, old man. Catch.” Satoru’s voice rings in the loaded air. Muscled arms flexing, Toji easily catches the flimsy piece of fabric thrown at him, a lecherous smile growing as he realizes what it is.  “M’gonna have a lot of fun with you, doll.”
“Don’t count us out now, Toji. I’ll be making sure she’s absolutely ruined.” Suguru’s slow, sinful drawl has your head spinning.
Probably for the first time in his life, Satoru doesn’t speak.
Instead, he dives nose-deep in your cunt. Pretty ruby lips meeting your swollen ones, urgently lapping up your sweet juices, as if a man dying of thirst.
“Hah- Oh! Toru!” you whine, hips bucking up into his hot tongue as he bullies past your folds and into your quivering entrance, hurried yet methodical. You could feel Satoru’s lips curling at the lewd whimpers ripping from your throat. Bruising grip on your hips pulling you impossibly deeper onto his greedy tongue. 
He wastes no time - stretching you out on his tongue so sinfully, dipping in and out of your dripping hole at a merciless pace. In and out in and out in and-
“Hope you didn’t forget us, darling. I’d be heartbroken.” Suguru’s mocking words ring in your ears. Not completely present with Satoru’s dizzying abuse on your cunt, you can do nothing as Suguru snakes a hand down to your heated core. 
“Don’t move, doll.” 
And before you know it, two more sets of hands are unforgivingly on you.
All you can do is just lay there and take it as Suguru’s cruel, slender fingers tease your folds, up and down up and down - pointedly skipping your throbbing clit. A languid, sadistic smile spreads across his face as you whine in desperation.
Where Satoru was generous and impatient, Suguru wanted to make you cry. How could you ever have thought he’d be the nice one?
Hasty lips are on yours now, a small scar rubbing your lips in a way that so obscenely reminded you of the tongue still ruthlessly fucking into you right now. Pulling away mere centimeters, Toji murmurs lowly, “Open your mouth.”
As if on auto-pilot, you groan as Toji's steady stream of spit hits your ready tongue. Eyes rolling to the back of your head at the warm feeling, tasting of sin and everything you shouldn’t be doing.
Thick, calloused fingers squeeze your cheeks together, his spit now drooling down the corner of your mouth. “Now, show me what those pretty lips can do.” Toji grits out. 
Your eyes widen as he pulls down his pants just enough for his furiously hard cock to spring free, sculpted thighs straddling the side of your face. 
Thick and unforgiving. A prominent vein twirling delicately down his monstrous length. Precum leaking onto his sculpted abdomen, dripping erotically down to mix with your soaked underwear in his veined hand gripping the base.
Nervous eyes flitting between Toji’s bulging cock in front of you, to the slick dripping down Suguru’s wrist, and Satoru’s hooded eyes, miles away, and grinning devilishly around your cunt - you’re sure of one thing - you’d be damn lucky to make it out alive.
Toji’s throbbing head pokes your kiss-bitten lips, precum salty on your tongue. He spares no mercy.
“C’mon now. If you’re actin’ like such a cockslut then learn to take it like one.” Searing grip on your hair, Toji pushes his cock all the way down your ready throat, using your mouth as if it was nothing more than his favorite fucktoy. Maybe you’ll become his favorite fucktoy.
Your pathetic, wet gurgles mix with the lewd squelches of your cunt as Toji’s heavy balls hit your chin. Fat head hitting the back of your throat and your nose pressed into the tufts of thick, black hair at his pelvis. “Mmm fuck yeah.” he groans, thick fingers pressing around your neck to feel his dick down your throat. 
Drawing low hisses as you tongue at his slit, you breath in the heady scent of Toji and you on your panties and Toji-
“Look s’pretty gagging on his cock, darling.” Suguru’s voice is still silken smooth, mockingly pressing a kiss to your cheek. Pooling the trail of spit and precum on his tongue, before licking a long, languid stripe.
“F-fucking freak.” Toji huffs out a laugh, relishing the way you moan so lewdly around his cock. “Oh? You like that, doll? Little slut, aren’t ya?”
A dangerous chuckle, and he’s thrusting animalistically into your poor, pretty mouth. Balls tightening each time his thick cock disappears into your mouth, lips stretching almost-painfully to accommodate him. Toji’s hand closes tighter around your throat, blocking your airway. Making you choke and gasp for air around his cock, blood roaring in your ears.
Shit, he was going to break you.
Suguru’s clever mouth was on your aching tits now, jolts of electricity going straight to your cunt as he tweaks and teases your hardened nipples. Thumb rubbing harshly over your sensitive tip the way he wouldn’t with your clit. Over and over-
“Suguru, gimme the bra.” you whine, hips bucking as Satoru’s muffled words send vibrations exactly where you wanted.
In a flash, your bra is unclasped and thrown to Satoru. Wrapping it around one large hand, it disappears where you cannot see. Yet the jerky, impatient movements of his hand below - up, up, up - and down have your walls clamping down desperately on Satoru’s tongue.
Ah, he looked so pretty when he was shut up with his mouth full of your dripping cunt. Fucked out whimpers leave Satoru’s throat at each flick of his tongue, fucking your pretty pussy with his mouth till you felt raw.
Suguru - the ever-graceful Suguru - had his brows furrowed desperately. Lips messy with spit as he bites and teases your nipples hard, making you cry out in wet, little gurgles that muffle around the throbbing erection in your mouth, fucking into you with reckless abandon. Toji’s heavy balls stinging your face as he bottoms out with each harsh shove down your throat. 
He didn’t care if you could breathe - as long as you sucked the ever-loving soul out of him.
The heady air is urgent now. Hasty movements now becoming more and more frenzied. Mindless with lust. Filthy. Debauched. It was so fucking sinful. 
So it only made sense that your orgasm was the same.
You see white as you cum - or maybe that was the hot, thick ropes of seed that Toji painted your face with. Moans muffled and hips bucking deliriously, you moan breathlessly as neither of the three men give up their relentless abuse. 
Your head shot up blindly in pleasure, sharp teeth digging into your shoulder - hard enough to break skin. Suguru. 
Wrestled down onto the bed by three sets of strong arms still groping the expanse of your body, you ride out your white-hot high on the taste of Toji slipping down your throat, Satoru’s still merciless tongue, and Suguru’s index finally pressing down on your throbbing clit. Hard. 
Blood roaring in your ears, your vision blurs as you sink into the mattress. You think you’re in heaven, and it was only fitting that these demons with angelic faces were the first things that you see there.
“You alright, darling? Can’t have you go passing out on us mid-initiation, now.” Suguru tuts, sharing a glance with Satoru, who was absolutely dripping in satisfaction - and your slick, prettily glossing his lips and nose.
“Mmm- s’fucked out. Ah-” Your violent climax leaves you limp, and you feel like a fucking ragdoll with the way Suguru wraps a steady arm around your waist, pulling you impossibly close against him. You whine as your stinging tits meet his toned body, sticky with the heat of the room. When did he even take his shirt off? 
Satoru isn’t too far behind, with little care for the buttons flinging across the room as he rips his shirt open - creamy chest peeking out in all its chiseled glory. Shit.
You almost miss the bed shifting as Toji sits on the edge, watching the three of you with greedy eyes as he fists his cum-covered cock with your panties. Teasing, purposeful movements up his length.
Suguru’s hand stroking your face, Satoru’s on your hips.
“After all that princess, you deserve a little treat.” Satoru purrs lowly, lips glistening with your juices and breath hot against your ear. Shivers run along your spine - right down to where he was groping and playfully swatting your ass. Darkened eyes narrowed at the way it jiggled against his large hands. 
“T-treat? Wha-” 
Your disoriented stammers are stuck in your throat as Suguru shoves two long fingers into your mouth. Whatever moans leaving your lips are choked and muffled as he forces you to taste yourself. 
Fingers intertwining with your tongue, you’re delirious with the want for more more more - and evidently, Suguru is too, throbbing and leaking with need as he pushes his soiled boxers down. Something cold makes you flinch as your quivering thigh grazes his clothed erection. 
Oh. Who knew your best friend had a dick piercing?
“Fuck, darling. Really should’ve done this sooner.” he murmurs, voice thick with lust and more to himself than you. “Mhm. You don’t know how hard it was to not bend you over and stuff you till you can’t speak, princess~” a whisper from behind you - Satoru.
Before you know it, Satoru’s lips find yours in a fiery kiss amidst it all. As if he couldn’t get enough of the sweet taste of your cunt - and probably never will. 
Suguru is languid and unhurried where Satoru is impatient and starved, rutting desperately against your ass. 
Every twirl of Suguru’s finger is deliberate, leaving a trail of lingering electricity in its wake. And with searing passion, Satoru’s tongue tastes you in all the ways he possibly could. The three of you tangled in an unholy act. 
Fuck, it was messy. So fucking messy. 
Delicate strings of saliva and slick connecting you to the two as drool drips down the corner of your mouth, eyes scrunched closed at the sinful pleasure.
“Fucking freaks.” Toji spits out, eyeing Satoru’s fingers inching closer and closer to your ass, deftly prodding at your quivering entrance. Yet, his movements only grow more urgent, fucking his fist in desperate need to cum - to cum all over you once more.
Satoru pulls away, and you shiver at the cold feeling of his saliva hitting your rim. Once. Twice. Thrice just to watch the way your hole quivers so obscenely for him. 
In the haze of the pure want of the three men around you, it slowly dawns on you that they won’t stop until they’ve fucked you half to death. And you cunt clenches in anticipation. 
Maybe you really were a little slut. 
Suguru only has his flushed tip kissing your folds, but you already feel so fucking full. Maybe it was the way Satoru was now bullying long, pale fingers through that first, tight little circle of muscle. Scissoring you open, hooking a thumb to stretch your slutty hole till he was more than satisfied. 
Through the corner of your eye, you watch Toji. Eyes half-lidded, gaze locked with yours, and looming closer towards you. 
Before you knew it, a rough hand grasps yours, wrapping so daintily around Toji’s fat, leaking tip. Guiding your hand, thumbing his slit to pull his dick in harsh, mindless pulls to get off. It has your sensitive cunt so heated and dripping, slick trailing down your shaky legs. 
“Suguru, think our little sweetheart is ready? Don’t think I can hold back any longer, all her pretty holes are begging me to fuck her.”
You weren’t going to make it out alive. Maybe you didn’t want to.
He doesn’t wait for a response. Your surprised yelps are gagged on Suguru’s fingers as Satoru sheaths himself in your ready hole. A low groan ripping from his throat as you clamp down on him, struggling to bear with the delicious stretch. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, despite the panic setting in, as he pushes deeper and deeper. Inch by inch. “Fuck s’tight. So tight, princess.”
Was he even halfway in? He had to be, right?
Arm now burning with the feeling of Toji fucking his throbbing erection into your fist, you risk a glance behind you, catching a glimpse of the deliciously flushed cock pressing into you. Long, pale, so pretty - so Satoru. 
Chuckling at the dilemma on your face, Suguru hums. “Now, Satoru. That hardly seems fair. Don’t be greedy.” And at that last word, Suguru’s leaking tip pushes past your entrance - thick , with a long vein running down the middle, cold metal of his piercing making your walls twitch - grunting at the resistance that came with being so fucking full from both ends. 
“Just getting to fucking her already. Look at the pretty doll, so eager to please. She’s begging for it.” you moan at Toji’s impatient comment, his precum coating your hand a pretty gloss. You’re fucking yourself in mindless, shallow, bounces that have you split open on both throbbing cocks. 
Satoru’s hand snaking down to wildly draw circles on your clit, jolting at the overstimulation, whine deliriously as both Satoru and Suguru bottom out inside of you. 
Deep moans bouncing off the walls - tight, so tight. You were going to make them pass out. Or worse, cum before you.
“S’alright hah- Fuck!” Suguru can barely get the words out, you’ve never seen Suguru - all grace and poise - lose his composure like this. A slave to desire. And if Suguru was losing control then Satoru was on the edge of absolute insanity, darkened eyes blown-out and short, broken whines leaving his mouth at each breath.
You, on the other hand, have never felt more awake. 
“Oh- oh fuck. Can’t- Too much. Hngh-” Raspy moans ripping from your throat at each little movement, hips moving in a mindless tandem with your best friends’ as they start thrusting in slow, experimental thrusts. 
You felt so unforgivingly full - organs secondary to the cocks splitting you apart till you could barely form sentences.
Filthy. Fucking filthy. 
And the only place you wanted to be right now.
Pulse banging against your throat, sight spotty, you don’t even know if what you’re feeling is pain or pleasure. Head only full of Satoru and Suguru and Toji and Satoru and-
“Awww, look at her- hah- Cock-drunk little whore can’t even speak.”
Bruised tits bouncing as Suguru and Satoru move in sync, fucked-out, animalistic ramming of their cocks into your stretched out little pussy. Delicate tears stream down your face. Your pace on Toji’s twitching dick now jerky, desperate movements to keep your sanity. “Jus’ like that, doll. Yeah-” 
You could feel the burning stretch as their throbbing cocks rubbed against each other through your walls. Balls smacking against your stinging skin and their prominent veins massaging your snug cunt just right. The slapping of skin and Toji’s squelching have your head spinning.
A wolfish bite on your exposed neck - Satoru - as he tried to keep himself together. Arching you deeper into him, thrusts stemming from a carnal, depraved part of him. Faster.
“Oh. So good, princess. Hole sucking me in so good. Ah- fuck. Could do this for the rest of my life.”
“Nasty girl. You love this, don’t you?” Suguru purrs, amusement evident in his tone.
“Y-yes! Love it! Love it Sugu- Toru-” 
With a harsh slap to your clit, both men speed up their pace in your sloppy holes. Relishing in the precum and slick dripping down their sensitive lengths, and the creamy rings forming around their bases.
More. More. More more more more-
This orgasm is more obscene than the last. Supported by Suguru and Satoru’s strong arms, spread open and stuffed so shamefully by their throbbing erections. Your head is thrown back, voice-shot as broken moans leave your swollen lips. Fist moving in a mindless rhythm - no reason or rhyme.
“F-fuck, darling. Gonna-”
All it takes are your half-lucid, fucked out mewls, walls wrestling with the effort to clench around them, for Suguru and Satoru to slam into you purposefully. Once. Twice. Before spilling into you in unison. 
“Hngh- M’cumming. Oh, god m’cumming, princess. Ah! Milking me so good.”
Thick, hot ropes of cum that fill your snug holes. You could feel your stomach inflating, enough to make you feel like you’ll explode.
Cock-drunk, you’re dead weight in their arms as Suguru and Satoru moan in relief, riding out their highs. Endless spurts of their seed splashing into you. It dribbles out of your overfilled cunt and ass, soiling the wet bed sheets beneath you.
Soaked in their cum, barely conscious, body aching all over. Ah, this was heaven. 
“Switch. Wanna cum in her pretty hole.” 
You jolt as Satoru snarks under his breath, pulling out his still-hard head with a lewd pop! A wave of his hot cum gushing out of your abused hole, pooling so sinfully beneath you.
Your knees buckle, brain not catching up yet. Too fucked out, your ready ass barely resists as Toji presses his rock-hard tip inside, pulsing with need. 
“Yeah, that’s right. Take it.” Grunting lowly, veins popping out as his thick cum spurts uncontrollably from his twitching cock. Once. Twice. Thrice. Missing your hole slightly, splattering on your ass. Pushing his leaking head inside in desperate, shallow thrusts. He just needed it inside you.
Slowing to a stop, “Now, what do you say?”
“Th-thank you, daddy.” 
Vision blacking, you barely even register the words. It’s all that is muttered out before Toji pulls out in one, fluid motion and you’re thrown around like a ragdoll. Suguru’s hand firmly pinning yours behind your back, glistening cock still in you, legs spread sinfully open.
He licks a long stripe down your cheek, your tears salty on his tongue. “Don’t think the initiation’s done yet, darling.”
Cum leaking helplessly out of you, Satoru’s hungry gaze - blue eyes barely recognizable - meets yours. “Oh, fuck. Just look at you princess. So defiled. Makes me wanna eat out all the cum inside you before pumping you full of mine again.”
“Don’t cream yourself just yet, Satoru. I think we’re about to have another initiation coordinator.”
What?
Sure enough, distant footsteps steadily approach. Growing louder with each passing second, thick with anticipation. 
Closer. And closer.
The door is suddenly thrown open, light filtering in through the door, illuminating the stern figure standing in the doorway. 
Nanami Kento.
The frat treasurer, infamous as the devastatingly handsome impersonation of a stick up one’s ass, known for rejecting any and every advance left and right. 
His sharp gaze sweeps the charged room, dark eyes revealing nothing, catching on your teary, fucked out gaze, miles away. Body covered in cum and spit, marked like you were thrown to the wolves. Satoru grits his teeth with an impatient huff, looking like he’s ready to positively devour you, irritated at the interruption. 
“What are you doing? This is an embarrassment to Jujutsu Phi.”
In the twinge of disappointment, you can’t help but feel a brief glimmer of hope. Ah, Nanami Kento. Maybe he will be your savior - a temporary respite from the men who seem ready to eat you alive. And won’t stop till you’re not.  
“If you’re going to initiate her then show no mercy.”
The door slams behind him as he steps inside the heated hellhole. A cold shiver runs down your spine. Satoru’s burning whisper in your ear.
“Welcome to the brotherhood, sweetheart.”
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A/N. Whew this turned out longer than expected. Tried a new formatting thing, how we liking it??
Plagiarism not authorized.
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satorhime · 1 month ago
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୨୧ㅤִㅤׄ COUGH SYRUP ― GOJO SATORU.
satoru is a bit of an idiot who will do anything to get you to speak to him after an argument.
𓈒 ݁ ₊ content ノ fem reader, clingy satoru, established relationship, mild argument, fluff, not proofread, randomly started missing my boy :( <3
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satoru can’t function when you’re upset with him. 
he knows he should be an adult about it — he is an adult, after all. he should give you space, let you simmer down. most people do not do things such as send one hundred and fifty text messages (he counted each of ‘em; you left him on read one hundred and fifty two times. who does that?) to your phone while you’re in the middle of grocery shopping and they most definitely do not take a sick day because their significant other is mad at them. 
 but then again, satoru isn’t like most people. 
which is why he’s currently sprawled out on the sofa in the middle of the day, wrapped in your favorite throw blanket — one that still smells faintly of your perfume. tissues litter the coffee table and floor around him, an unconvincing movie set of misery. call him manipulative, but it’s the only thing he’s got left in the tank since, for the last seventy-two hours, you haven’t spoken more than five words in a sentence to him. 
you’re his main source of enrichment, his brain stimulated by your sweet kisses and good loving so when you take that away, you’re stripping away his heart and soul. he’s got nothing left. he might as well die.  
in satoru’s brain, he figures that surely, if he’s coughing up a lung, you’ll feel bad for him and start talking to him again. in sickness and in health, right? 
by the time you walk through the front door after making a quick run to the supermarket for groceries, he’s in full performance mode, clutching his stomach with a groan. 
the sound is so realistic that you feel a sudden stab of worry, wondering if he’s injured. rushing into the living room, you find all six foot three of your boyfriend balled up on the sofa, looking like walking death. 
or trying to, anyway. 
“satoru?” you ask, eyebrows arching as you set your grocery bags down on the floor, taking out your phone and glancing at the time on the lockscreen. “why are you home? it’s eleven am.” 
“baby,” he groans pitfully, looking up at you. his glacier blue eyes are red rimmed and shimmering suspiciously — like he squeezed them shut repeatedly until he got the desired effect. satoru sniffles for good measure, huddling into the blanket. “i’m sick,” he announces, his lower lip wobbling, dragging out the last syllable like it physically hurts him to say it. 
“sick? you seemed fine when i left this morning,” you say, taking a step forward. you reach out a hand, pushing back his wintery locks to check for a fever. his skin feels normal, cool to touch even. your eyes narrow. you’re dubious — satoru never gets sick, yet it is his favorite act whenever he’s in the doghouse and wants attention. that, and he’s a terrible actor. you purse your lips, irritated. this is what he does instead of just apologizing? 
“i wasn’t fine emotionally,” satoru whines back. “i’m heartbroken here. it’s debilitating my health rapidly.” 
your expression doesn’t budge and satoru’s pout deepens when he realizes you’re not buying it. he clutches the blanket tighter around his big body, exaggerating a shiver for good measure. “you’re my life force, angel. my happiness. my —”
“stop it,” you interrupt and hold up a hand, fighting the smile tugging at your lips. you’re mad at him — you are. “but let me get this straight. you called out of work because i wasn’t talking to you?” 
“it was a medical emergency. do you have any idea what it’s like to go hours without hearing you voice?! without seeing you smile at me? you wouldn’t even let me use your body wash last night so we could share the same scent. i barely survived the night. any longer and i’d be a goner,” he sighs dramatically, then remembers he’s supposed to be on his last leg and hacks, phlegm rattling in his throat. 
“you’re obsessed,” you pinch the bridge of your nose, trying to hold firm. but your damned heart has selective memory and it is making an appearance again, rapidly forgetting why you’re still mad at him. oh, you had a right to be upset over what he did, but it seems insignificant now when he’s in front of you, groveling like a servant at a throne. 
“angel, come on,” he presses, sitting up on the sofa and reaching for your hand, hurt flashing bright across his eyes when you step out of range. if you let him pull you down on that sofa with him, he’ll sweet talk his way into you forgiving him without consequences. he’ll do that anyway, but you won’t make it easy for him. “i’ll do anything to make it right.” 
“don’t angel me. you can’t just manipulate me into forgiving you with your big pretty eyes,” you wag your finger at him. “i bet you don’t even know what you did.” 
“i know, but it’s working, ain’t it?” he grins, shamelessly dropping the congested tone in his voice. “and i know what i did,” he scoffs. “you’re mad at me about that thing.” 
yes, that thing.
two nights ago, your body pillow — your very expensive, weighted body pillow which happened to have a giant render of your boyfriend on it, went missing. you’d commissioned it to have something to cuddle with on those nights when satoru is away on business and you miss him in your shared bed an unhealthy amount. you’d become a little too attached to it, though, while satoru wanted nothing more than to burn it. 
“he has a name,” you hiss, swatting satoru’s knee as you struggle not to laugh. “don’t call mr. comf-toru-ble a thing! he’s sensitive.” 
“see?” satoru says, scrubbing a hand over his handsome face before gesturing around wildly. “you even named it.” 
you give him a sharp look. “he cost me an entire paycheck— an entire paycheck that three days ago, you gave to the garbage collectors because i was cuddling him instead of you!” 
“i was feeling neglected!” he defends, voice pitching higher in his affront, placing a hand on his chest. “you spent the whole night with it. meanwhile, i— your husband— was right there, cold and alone. i can’t let me steal my wife.”
“we’re not married, satoru,” you remind him, then pout. “unlike my husband, the pillow doesn’t hog the covers, snore, or throw out things that i really like.” 
“it’s not hogging the covers, it’s redistribution of them for my comfort,” he grins playfully, but upon seeing your serious expression, he concedes, sobering up. in truth, he knows he messed up and went too far. it was childish to throw out something that you bought because of his frequent bouts of absence. maybe if he was around more, you wouldn’t need to cuddle with body pillows that look like him. “look, baby. i’m sorry. it was a moment of weakness. it’s not everyday i gotta be in competition with myself, but i’ll make it up to you! i even ordered you another one.” 
“a moment of jealousy, you mean,” you counter, but there’s no real bite behind your tone now.
“hey, you gotta see it from my perspective though. it’s kind of crazy seeing you cuddle with a pillow that looks like me when the real thing is right here,” satoru gestures down the long line of his body, though it looks more comical than inviting when he’s wrapped like a overstuffed burrito in your throw blanket.
“mm,” you nod, “well, maybe if the ‘real thing’ is a good boy, i’ll cuddle him more often.” 
“deal,” he answers immediately and when his muscular arms shoot out from behind the blanket and reach for you this time, you let him. his arms circle around your waist, pulling you into his lap. it was just a few days of silent treatment, but satoru wastes no time tucking his face against the dip of your neck, breathing in your sweet scent like you’re something precious and rare he lost ages ago and is just discovering again after eons. 
he’s squishing you, he knows it, but god he hates it when you’re mad at him — and you, in return, hate being at odds with him too. you both make too much sense to each other to be apart, and there’s upset in the balance of the world when the two of you are in an argument. 
“worst seventy-two hours of my life,” satoru blows out a breath of relief, the air tickling the hair at the nape of your neck, drawing a shiver down your spine. “never do that to me again, angel. you hear?” 
“don’t throw out my customized satoru merch again and i won’t, baby,” you coo, smiling. 
“you’ll still choose me over the other guy though, right?” 
“we’ll see, ‘toru, we’ll see,” you answer playfully, yelping when he darts in to nip at your ear in retaliation.
getting comfortable in satoru’s lap, you lean in to put the both of you out of your miseries and forgive him with a kiss when you get a whiff of menthol and childhood memories wafting from his chest.
 “are you wearing vaporub?”
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heyysteven · 1 month ago
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Playing Dangerous
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Pairings: Hwang In Ho x Wife!reader
Summary: Mr. Hwang does not like it when his wife ignores him. He decides to show what happens when you upset him.
Warnings: Smut (18+) mdni, Yandere behavior, In ho is obsessive and controlling, dub con, public sex, breast play, mentions of captivity and stalking, a bunch of rich assholes.
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Take the driver with you.
Did you reach yet?
I'm waiting for your answer.
Swirling the glistening champagne in your claw you leaned into the conversation, feigning interest into whatever story was being told. Mr. Richie, the President of a luxury brand of perfumes was bragging about his most recent visit to Luxembourg; how he surprised his wife by renting one of the castles for the week and how much money he burned through to make her happy.
He stood surrounded by some of the most powerful and elite people in the country as he drawled on and on about his stay. Bit overkill with how much money he spent for your taste but you were used to it by now.
From rare antiques to color vomits on canvases, these were awfully boring people who always talked about the same few conceited experiences. But you indulged in their conversations. You had to appease to them after all.
You had to play the perfect wife.
Nodding your head you smiled, as if you hadn’t zoned his story out completely. It was easier attending events alone. No one paid much attention to you without the loaded man beside you. You prayed that no one asked about why your husband was missing because frankly you didn’t have an answer.
As if sensing your thoughts Mrs. Richie asked, “Will Mr. Hwang not be joining us tonight?” interrupting her husband’s museum story.
“Oh yeah, I’m afraid he won’t be able to make it. He has so busy these days with meetings and that big launch coming up.” You replied.
They raised their heads oh in understanding. In truth, there was no launch. You just lied so they wouldn’t pry too much.
Mrs. Richie clutched her pearls, “That makes me so upset! He has such a strong aura around him, always brightens up the room with his presence.” She talked as if his absence was her personal loss. As if another moment without him would cause her to wither in physical pain.
In hindsight it should have really bothered you. Hearing another woman yearn for your husband should have had you pulling her hair and throwing her to the ground. But your relationship with Mr. Hwang wasn’t like that. It was all only for show; a signed inconvenient obligation. You two didn’t even looked at each other unless there was someone watching.
 “Yes, it is quite upsetting.” You said with the most heartbroken smile you could muster. ”But sometimes you have to sacrifice time-”
As you spoke a shiver ran down your spine. Your heart started beating faster as a knot formed in your stomach. It was as if your body was warning you.
You could feel his presence even before you could see him.
Every single person in the room had turned their heads towards the entrance. His black polished shoes clicked as silence fell around.
Mr. Hwang was the kind of man who commanded unwavering attention. It was impossible to ignore him. Not when he walked with a sense of ownership. As if every living and breathing thing belonged to him.
He was the kind of man who could will mountains to move on their own; the kind of man who could make a ballroom like this feel like a cramped elevator. Dressed in his signature black look he walked in with a sense of control. Every stride oozed power.
Alarm bells started ringing in your head as he walked towards you.
“Oh look he is here!” Mrs. Richie exclaimed. She looked seconds away from rolling her tongue out for him to walk on.
Color threatened to drain from your face as he slipped his long cold fingers around your waist and placed himself beside you. His touches always made you nervous, no matter the months you’ve spent with him. The haunting scent of his strong cologne filled your senses as his towering body pressed into your side like this was the most natural thing in the world.
You dragged out a surprised smile as he bent down to place a lingering kiss your cheek.
“You’re here.” You said finally, a ghost of a whisper.
He tilted his head to look into your eyes and smiled back at you. “When your wife doesn’t respond to your texts, you just have to come find her, am I right folks?” He turned to the group as they all threw their heads back in roaring laughter. It was kind of pathetic how much they seemed to want his approval.
Your eyes widened as you realized your mistake. You acted to feel around for your phone and said, “Really? I don’t remember checking my phone. I must have missed them.”
He just continued to stare down at you with a frown, “You know how worried I get. Should have just gotten you the phone with an inbuilt tracker” he said with a chuckle and people laughed again. But you both knew he wasn’t kidding. Anything this man couldn’t control drove him crazy.
You playfully patted his cheek and laughed. “He is so silly sometimes.”
He simply pulled you closer and squeezed you in his embrace, “I just want my wife to be protected that is all”. People took that as a hint to slowly start dispersing. When the last person left you tried to move away from him but he held still. “Don’t. They’re still watching.”
“Why are you here?” You asked with an accusatory tone.
He didn’t bother answering that. Instead he asked, “Why did you ignore my messages?”
So that’s why he came. The minute you refused to play along like his little doll he had to show up.
Fidgeting with the strap of your watch you replied, “I was preoccupied.”
“Were you avoiding me Mrs. Hwang?” His voice dangerously calm as he drawled on the possibility. He knew how much you hated it when he called you that. It felt derogatory. It was a reminder that you were just another one of his little slaves who had given into his power.
When you stayed silent, he leaned down to whisper in your ear, “Next time, I will hunt you down and drag you out by your hair if I have to.”
“Just be very careful with your actions love.” he kissed your shoulder and left towards to bar.
To everybody else he was the perfect husband; the one who showered you with jewels and admiration. Who blindly bought you everything you touched. Your brain itched every time they would congratulate you and tell you how much you lucked out.
How you wished it was true.
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The tap water trickled as you stood counting the droplets one by one. You had excused yourself to the restroom, thinking a few silent moments would help you find the energy to go back and attend the event with your husband. But the more time you spent here, the more this little bathroom started to feel like your refuge.
Just five more minutes and then we go, you thought for the 8th time.
The door slowly swung open.
“Occupied!” you called out. But the intruder continued in. You turned around to tell off whoever entered but stopped when you saw those black polished shoe.
Your heart started hammering as his shadow came into full view. He invited himself inside and locked the door in one quick click.
With each step he took forward, you took one back; moving back till you felt the cold ceramic sink hit your back. The look in his eyes was animalistic. You felt caught. Like one wrong move and you’d be engulfed in a huge trapping net.
“So you are ignoring me I see.” Mr. Hwang concluded.
“I just feel a little tired from all this.”
He scoffed, “Do you find pleasure in defying me?”
You looked around at everything but his face. You were afraid of what you might find if you looked at him right now. Placing his palms behind you, he gripped the sink, locking you in front of him. His breath fanned your face as he said, “I really hoped it wouldn’t come to this.”
“I am an honorable man. I have been as patient as I can be but you just make it so difficult” he rasped.
“Do you remember what you said before you signed our papers?”
His jaw clenched as he ordered, “Answer me.”
“I said I would do anything if you saved my brother.” Your body had started shaking.
His eyes sparkled as he grinned deviously; finally getting the answer he was desperately waiting for. “Anything? Are you sure? A lot can happen with anything.”
He dropped his head into your neck and traced a slow line with his tongue, painting your bare skin with his saliva till he reached the top of your neckline. You clenched your eyes shut, your hands closed in a tight fist as his mouth roamed your chest.
“The question is how far are you willing to be pushed my love?” He sucked on your sweet spots as you turned into an unstable block of mass in his arms. He knew you wouldn’t fight him.
He had pulled that one string to puppet you, that one weakness you would lose to every single time. He had you right where he wanted you. Digging his fingers into your hair, he pulled your mouth near his and started devouring you with his soft mouth.
“I hate this dress." He said between kisses. "I hate that everyone saw you looking this fuckable.” His hand glided up your thigh, slowly massaging the smooth skin up and down with his palm.
His teeth hooked around the strap of your dress and pulled them down. When the sleeves fell down, his mouth attacked your already sensitive nipples. He sloppily circled around them through the fabric of your bra. Your hand tugged his hair as he continued to suck. It became impossible to stop the moans escaping you.
 “You have no idea how much I’ve been holding back. I have been nothing but a respectable man to you. But I’m beginning to think that perhaps you do not like it.” His words scared you. He seemed to have taken this as some sort of challenge. The look of terror between your eyes made him rock hard. He forced your legs open with his knee. You could feel his cotton trouser pressing into you through your underwear.
“Perhaps you don’t deserve my restraints anymore.”
Your head fell back as his knees started rocking. He almost came right there when he felt your juices starting to drench his pants.
 “You have no idea how far I’m willing to go. Trackers? Trackers are nothing. I will tie you and gag you till no one can hear your screams. You will be at my complete mercy and no one will come save you.” He moaned as tears started falling uncontrollably from your eyes. He continued rocking till you were a complete sobbing mess.
You should’ve known better than to displeasure him.
He pulled back right before anything progressed further. Straightening his coat he kissed the side of your head. “See you at home Mrs. Hwang.” And with those six words he left, leaving you half naked and dazed. In that moment you realized you had started a very dangerous game in just one evening and you weren’t sure if you could handle playing against Mr. Hwang.
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A/N: I wanna play his wife so bad
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enigmaris · 7 days ago
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If Lois Lane had a nickle for every time she had to help an overpowered boy from the midwest with the power of journalism, she'd have two nickles. Which isn't a lot but its weird that its happened twice.
Danny watched as Lois pulled out her phone and pulled up a recording app.
“What are you doing?”
“You came to a journalist and are surprised to get an interview?” She asked him, her tone clearly joking. “What you’ve given me here is great kid, but newspaper clippings and copies of federal laws don’t get the public’s attention. I need a story, Phantom’s the story.”
“I’m not Phantom.”
Lois looked at him, less than impressed. Slowly, she turned the screen of her computer until it was visible to both of them. There, in full clarity, was a front-page story from his hometown newspaper. ‘Danny Phantom saves Bus Full of Children!’ and there was a picture of him in his ghost form, his face crystal clear on her screen.
"Phantom’s a ghost. I’m just a dumb kid.” Danny tried again.
Lois pinched the bridge of her nose with her right hand and muttered to herself.
“Why do all you midwestern boys have the same schtick?”
“I’m sorry?” Danny said, unsure if he should be apologizing or not.
“Changing your last name from Fenton to Phantom does not a secret identity make kid. It might work for most civilians, but anyone familiar with the hero game will clock you from a mile away.”
“I’m not Phantom.”
“Sure, kid. But I’m sure you have a way for me to interview him, right? Because I want to talk to him before I do anything else about your town.”
Danny hugged himself and looked down at his knees.
“Is it really that bad?”
“Not the worst I’ve seen. Wonder Woman’s is paper thin. I'm pretty sure most people in DC know who she is outside of the cape and just don’t say anything because she scares them.”
Danny snorted involuntarily at that, looking back up at the woman.
“What’s going on in your town, Phantom? Why come to a journalist and not the Justice League?”
“The Anti-Ecto Acts got passed like a year ago. They state that only being that produces or contains ectoplasm above a certain amount is considered non-sapient and is to be turned over to the government for disposal.” Danny said. “I put the whole thing in there for you to read, but it's long. Amity Park has a lot of ectoplasm in it. It's seeped into the air and water. Normal human people have it in them now. At first, those agents were just firing at me whenever I finished a ghost fight. I could deal with that. Their aim is terrible anyway. But then they figured out that humans can become contaminated with ectoplasm. They decided that meant the entire town was under their jurisdiction. They've decided that means that no one in town counts as human anymore, that we don’t have rights, that they’re doing us a favor by not just exterminating the entire town like the law says.”
Danny leaned forward, putting his hands on the desk in front of Lois Lane. He looked right into her bright eyes and spoke seriously.
“When it was just ghosts under attack, I didn’t think anyone would care. I’ve tried calling the Justice League for help, but they’ve brushed me off. People need to know what’s happening. Anyone can become ecto-contaminated. You just have to be in the right place at the wrong time. It’s not right what’s happening to Amity, Miss Lane. I came to you because if anyone could get the world to listen, to believe, then it's got to be you.”
And Lois Lane smiled. It was a proud, eager smile. The kind of smile Danny had seen on Sam right after she convinced the school to serve a vegan lunch. He barely held back from shivering.
“Well then, Mr. Phantom.” Lois said, before tapping onto the recording app on her phone and starting a recording. “Let’s begin.”
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lola-writes · 8 months ago
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Duty Is Sacrifice
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Pairing: Cregan Stark x Velaryon/Strong!reader
Word Count: 2,6k
Themes & Warnings: Winterfell, pov. first person, feelings realization, fluff and smut, fingering, orgasm
Summary: Queen Rhaenyra sends you to treat with Lord Cregan Stark for the support of the North. In him you find not only an ally, but something deeper as well…
Song: Skin and Bones (Cinematic) - David Kushner
Masterlist | Add yourself to my taglist | Ao3
Likes, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated!
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The wilderness beyond the Wall sprawled before me atop the outlook, an uncharted immensity dripping with anathema. A frozen wasteland, it held a cold that seemed to seep into your very soul, promising to turn your bones to ice with a single, lingering glance.
The stories from the seasoned rangers down below had painted a vivid picture, but this, this was a masterpiece beyond mere words. The frigid air, a living entity, tore at my dark hair and the borrowed furs – those very furs my stubborn pride had initially dismissed. Now, the only thing missing from mirroring those same hardened rangers was a permanent furrow etched between my brows, a testament to countless nights spent battling the elements. 
Their Lord was a wall of warmth which prevented the gnawing chill from consuming me. His massive form broadened at my side, his very presence thawing me. Turning to him, I observed the furrow deepening between his brows as he regarded me, though it wasn’t a testament to the cold, but rather something concerned. 
“Winterfell beckons, Princess,” he said, his timber thick with northern accent, “Let us return to warm you.” 
His gloved hand, rough yet surprisingly gentle, reached out for me. Relief washed over me as I grasped it, the worn leather a welcome anchor against the treacherous turret steps.
“Blazing fires. Hot stew. How’s that sound?” His stoic expression nearly cracked to the rumble in my stomach. I noticed I was still supported in his grasp well beyond danger, when I felt his thumb tracing reassuring circles on the back of my hand, sending a delicious shiver snaking down my spine.
Gently, I returned it to my side. “That would be most pleasant, thank you my Lord.”
Days had bled into one another at his side, treating, feasting, drinking, strategizing, and though I had no doubt I had fixed him as an ally to my mother’s claim, some other heat beneath the veneer of alliance had begun to simmer in his gaze, a spark that mirrored the disquiet blooming in my own chest.
The iron cage groaned its descent down to Castle Black, echoing through the black shaft like cries of the damned. From the moment I stepped foot in Winterfell, he’d woven a tapestry of comfort. He recalled every detail I mentioned in passing, and behind his every effort to make me feel at home was a gesture conforming to something I’d previously told him I enjoyed – a steaming mug of my favorite herbal tea, a book on a subject I’d once expressed interest in. He was unlike any man I’d encountered. Each word he uttered was a silken caress, so gentle it felt like he feared his own timber could bruise me. But a heavy weight had settled in my chest. My replies had now become clipped, mere whispers that barely escaped my lips. There was so much more at stake now beyond my desires. Duty loomed heavy on my shoulders. I feared any careless words or lingering glances could brittle the alliance with the Starks to pieces.
We mounted our horses and begun our nigh-on two days ride back to Winterfell. Though not as biting as the Wall’s teeth, the wind on the Kingsroad still carried a relentless edge. The only warmth to be found radiated shyly from the small fires Cregan’s bannermen had built, and the thick fur I wove tightly around myself at night.
As the colossal granite form of Winterfell finally clawed its way up from the horizon, a wave of exhaustion crashed into me, settling heavy in my bones. Dismounting was an ordeal. Every muscle in my body throbbed in protest from the days’ ride. My legs, leaden weights, buckled before I could even consider lowering myself. 
But before I could hit the ground, strong arms, surprisingly gentle, encircled my waist, and lifted me from the saddle before I could even think to react. 
We stood there, my body swaying slightly in his arms, our eyes lingering on each other for a second beyond my comfort. His eyes, normally the clear blue of a summer sky, were now a stormy gray, swirling with unspoken concern. A tremor of something akin to fear danced in my chest, battling the unexpected flutter at his touch. 
“Apologies, my Lord,” I stammered, cheeks flushing with a heat that had naught to do with exertion. “Dragon saddle is one thing, but I fear horseback is another entirely.” I smiled apologetically. 
Cregan’s fingers lingered on my waist, a gentle caress that singed through my leathers and into my very skin, sending a jolt through me. He withdrew them slowly, and my side ached from their absence. 
“Fret not, Princess,” he rumbled, his voice a warm current, “Two days on horseback have felled men twice your size.”
I giggled to his obvious attempt at comforting me. “I wouldn’t bet on that,” I replied, taking trembling steps toward the castle.
Once in my chambers, I collapsed onto the bed; sleep, thick and heavy, stealing the day. When I finally opened my eyes, the only light in the room spilled from the dying embers in the hearth. 
A gnawing hunger, cold and insistent, hollowed my gut. With a deep breath, I rose, and dressed in my house colors, the fabric thick with responsibility. Then, I descended the steps in my hunt for scraps.
The massive oak doors of the Great Hall ground open, revealing a cavernous space bathed in the flickering, golden glow of a roaring fire. Laughter and the murmur of rough voices hung in the air. Fur cloaked figures huddled around the immense hearth at the far end, casting dancing shadows on the towering walls. Lord Stark sat amidst his bannermen; tankards raised in boisterous revelry. 
The merriment dipped as I entered. Heads swiveled my way, some splitting into knowing grins. The bannermen rose in unison, scattering like startled crows, their boisterousness replaced by a respectful chorus of greetings and a flurry of curt bows. 
“My regrets for missing supper,” I said, drawing Cregan’s heavy gaze. His shadowed form, a giant even in the flickering firelight, rose with a quiet grace that belied his imposing physique. 
“You need not worry,” he said, ladling steaming stew from a small pot over the fire and offered me the bowl with one hand. A grateful smile lit my face as I accepted it. 
“You grow quite comely as a serving girl,” I jested, a flicker of triumph igniting in my chest when his mouth quirked up into a faint smirk, a flicker of warmth dancing in his eyes, a rare concession on his normally stoic face. 
I settled onto the bench beside his chair and began devouring the stew, its meat and vegetables soothing the ache in my belly. As I ate, I stole glances at Cregan, his face bathed in the rich firelight, a mask of unreadable emotions. 
Regret, sharp and unwelcome, tightened in my chest as I observed him. I had a duty fulfilled, but a heart unsatiated. I had come to Winterfell to remind him of the oath his house swore to my mother, and he had not left me wanton. Yet, the journey back to Dragonstone loomed large in my mind. The prospect of leaving him, perhaps for a very long time, cast a long shadow. Unless he too agreed to join us.
“The Queen’s sworn allies are too few to win a war for the throne,” I declared, my voice tight with the weight of responsibility, “She needs your men.”
His jaw clenched, his stoicism returning like a steel mask. “Cursed be the Hightowers,” he growled, venom lacing his voice. “But winter is coming. War of dragons is never a small ordeal. If the Queen is in need of my men to defeat the usurper, you must allow me to wait out the winter.”
Despair clawed at my throat. Memories and tales of past winters surfaced, stretching on for months, even years. Without the full support of the North, we could be crushed before winter even loosened its icy grip. Perhaps reduced to cinders beneath the wrath of the dragons. 
“It will be too late,” I pleaded, the urgency in my voice cracking the carefully constructed façade I had built.
Cregan met my gaze, his eyes a stormy gray. “It’s the best I can do, Princess. I hope you will forgive me.”
A spark of anger ignited within me, battling the tendrils of despair. “You swore an oath, Lord Stark.”
He held my stare, unwavering. “I haven’t forgotten,” he said, “You will have two thousand greybeards that can be ready to march at once.”
“What of you?” My voice trembled, tears welling up before I had the strength to stop them. “What if this is goodbye?” 
Understanding suddenly dawned in his eyes, and his brows furrowed in what I thought was despair. He came to sit beside me, the wood groaning under his weight. His large, calloused thumbs painted the tears across my cheeks. 
“I assure you, Princess,” he said softly, “This is not goodbye.” His hand came up to grasp my chin between his thumb and index finger, tilting it up to meet his intense gaze. “I swear it,” he vowed, steel threading through his words. Hope surged through me; a lifeline cast into the churning sea of anguish. 
Starks do not forget an oath. 
“The Hightowers were doomed the second they put the imposter on that throne,” Cregan rumbled, his voice a low caress. 
The space between us seemed to have dissolved, his calloused hands engulfing mine in a firm, reassuring grasp. Silence stretched, thick with unspoken emotions, tension dripping like honey. I waited for him to say something else, but he remained still, quiet, his fingers slowly and gently exploring mine, each touch sending sparks of lightning up my arms. I met his gaze, my breathing shallowing as I realized his lips were but a whisper away, his dark eyes shimmering with heat, flickering with an unspoken hunger that seethed beneath my skin with each second. 
“Their betrayal…” His voice was barely a whisper, his fingers ceased their dance with mine, and began their path up my arms, “…will not go unpunished,” he said thickly, his hands now grazing my upper arms, up my shoulders, ceasing at the curve of my neck, the movement sending a sizzling sensation through my blood. 
With the cold that had plagued me so these last few days, I began to fever. My lips parted as if I was suddenly short of breath, and I felt a curious pulse that drifted between my thighs. My whole body, like to an unseen force, drew closer to him, and he tensed beneath his leathers. His frame vibrated with desperate restraint, the fire in his eyes warring between duty and sacrifice. 
“I am a man of honor,” he groaned. My stomach tightened as his hands inched up my neck and traced the line of my jaw, his coarse thumb brushing across my lips. 
Something tugged on my stomach from the inside as the fiery heat of his fingers burned through my skin. My breaths came out ragged and shallow while he remained silent, as though he was immersed in concentration. 
Without knowing the full implication of my words, I whispered, “Dishonor me.”
For the storm, only just contained, raged wild in his eyes, a low growl sounded from deep in his chest before he crashed his lips to mine. 
I received them with a low, beckoning gasp. My palms came up to his neck, my nails running the length of it as he explored my lips, the roof of my mouth, my teeth, and under my tongue. Then his lips traced my jaw, finding my ear, breathed his warm air into it, nibbled my lobe, then covered my throat in wet kisses. I tilted my head to grant him access, as low, sensual mewlings poured from my lips, something carnal infiltrating my veins.
His hands came down to my waist, and I gasped in surprise when he lifted me and placed me in his lap, my legs latching around his back. 
He was so big and warm and hard. His eyes were lazy and dark as his fingers began to lightly trace down the side of my neck, then hooking into my dress to bare my shoulder. He kissed it with an open mouth and moving tongue, and I quivered beneath his touch. Then, with a sharp sound of a tear, he had pulled my dress all the way down my abdomen. 
He groaned at the sight of me, his lips slightly parted, his hands delicately cupping my breasts as if he’d found treasure. When the cold made me shiver, he leaned into me to lend me his warmth, while his lips tantalized me, drawing close to my hardened nipple, blowing it with hot air, then backing off, kissing across my breastbone to the other, until I forced his mouth to it.
He hummed with throaty satisfaction, latching onto it and giving it one slow suck, grazing the skin with his teeth. I threw my head back with a gasp. White heat shot like lightning between my thighs, before pulsing into an empty ache. I swayed into him, bucking my hips into his groin, feeling him harden beneath me. He suckled my other breast in warm, slow pulses, circling the areola, drawing panting moans out of me, before he found my lips again. 
Gathering my skirts, he moved his hands underneath them, gripping the fullness of my thighs, kneading them, squeezing them, to the point it pinched me, and I bit his bottom lip in protest. 
Cregan Stark was a gentle giant in all matters but things salacious. 
A throaty sigh escaped his lips as his hands found my buttocks, kneading the flesh between his fingers. Hot, slick tingles pooled between my thighs, and my fingers curled in his hair. My body hummed in anticipation as his finger slid downward, a groan pouring out of me as he grazed over my wet opening. 
“Oh, Princess.” The words were like magic on his lips, shooting through my core in throbbing pulses. 
His other arm snaked around my waist, locking me to his body as he explored and moistened my folds, leaving me a bucking, moaning mess in his lap. 
I felt empty and sickly. A fog had infiltrated my vision, my skin, my mind, my inhibitions. I coveted him. I needed him, more than I needed anything else. His eyes alone could touch inside of me, but I could not explain the pulsing, throbbing, delirious effects of his hands, his mouth, his tongue, and I ached for more. I felt unfinished, incomplete. 
Until he slid a finger deep inside me, and I gasped. Hot, sweet pressure filled me, and once I adjusted, he introduced another, threatening to overfill as he fingered me. 
Fast and then lazy. 
Over and over. 
The room filled with wet squelching noises and my moaning squeals. His deeper, throatier moans vibrated through his chest and lit me on fire, burning in my lower stomach, blazing, desperate for feed, or I would disintegrate. 
My nails dug desperately into his shoulders, as any attempts of filling myself up to completion were in vain by the power of his grip around my waist. He trailed every inch of my neck, kissing it as it if were my mouth, with lips, tongue, and teeth. His fingers penetrated deep and curled inside of me, rubbing something within that sent pressure bursting into tingles and flames, my veins burning up like dragon fire, and stars sparkling behind my eyelids. I cried out with the purest ecstasy as my body shuddered and clenched around his fingers, and he groaned against my skin with dark satisfaction as I clung to him desperately.
Once my trembles ceased and I managed to catch my breath, he took my cheeks in his hand and kissed me fiercely, passionately, his fires still boiling for release.
“I am coming with you,” he declared.
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Tag list: @koyaa66648 @longlivemyblues @melsunshine @urdadsfavs @the-great-ladyg @barackosteaa @elysyannemimi @80sstradlin @hgyura @telltale-vixen @nyxbranwenn @tortargaryen @naxal-jlt @flowercrownsandherondales @red-hydra @lanadelray1989 @crumbledcastle28 @midnightcrw @prismaudee @nsr-15
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bluelockmaniac · 7 months ago
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˖⋆࿐໋ "PLEASE, COME BACK."
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★ ft. itoshi rin, itoshi sae, michael kaiser, alexis ness, mikage reo, nagi seishiro, don lorenzo, oliver aiku, isagi yoichi & otoya eita (honourable mentions). synopsis. your ex-partners are desperate for you and need you back.
ᯓᡣ𐭩 content warning. general: pet names (princess, baby, etc). sae: suggestive. ness: mentions of stalking, obsessive, creepy ngl. reo: parental humiliation, mother reader. oliver: cheating (duh), he gets slapped lmfao.
notes. total word count: 3.3k !! , angsty ? fem!reader .
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୨ৎ 𝐈𝐓𝐎𝐒𝐇𝐈 𝐑𝐈𝐍
rainy days were the worst, you mused bitterly, recalling how rin had chosen a stormy day, much akin to this, to break things off with you.
you sneezed into your elbow, feeling the tiny droplets of water cascade down, peppering your bare skin relentlessly. you shivered as you sat on a random bench in the nearest park, regretting your decision to skip checking the weather app today.
wrapping your arms around yourself, cold and damp, you anxiously waited for a certain someone to pick you up.
suddenly, the freezing, stinging sensation of the raindrops on your skin ceased. you noticed a pair of legs in front of you and tilted your head up, meeting the familiar gaze of the man you had once called yours. his arm was outstretched, holding an umbrella above your head.
“y/n…” rin's voice was quiet, barely audible over the splattering rain.
your eyes widen, quickly darting down to stare at your empty lap. your fingers gripped the bench tightly. "hi," you mumbled, the word barely escaping your lips. this was probably the first time he had ever initiated a conversation with you; in your past relationship, that had always been your role. what was he doing here, anyway?
as if reading your mind, he spoke up awkwardly, “i just finished my afternoon jog…” he paused, shuffling his feet slightly. “do you want a ride?”
you finally looked up at him again, shaking your head subtly. “no, thank you... i'm waiting for someone right now.”
“ah, i see.” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. he internally cursed himself for his clumsy attempt and for possibly making things worse by asking in the first place.
a few moments of uncomfortable silence passed between you, but when the tension was too unbearable to handle, he broke the silence.
“i'm… fuck, i'm sorry, okay?” he lowered his head, biting the inside of his cheek in frustration. “for everything in the past. for always ignoring you and neglecting you... if you want, we can–”
the loud honking sound of a car in the distance caught the attention of both you and rin. his brows furrowed in confusion as you stood up and walked a few steps towards the car, throwing him a faint smile.
“ah, it seems like my boyfriend is here.”
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୨ৎ 𝐈𝐓𝐎𝐒𝐇𝐈 𝐒𝐀𝐄
by no means was your relationship with sae horrible; in fact, it was quite the opposite. he consistently spoiled you with gifts and favourite snacks, treated you better than his teammates and the public, and always made you feel like the only girl in the universe.
so why had you both mutually agreed to call things off? the challenges of a long-distance relationship became overwhelming.
his frequent travels abroad for football games and the substantial timezone difference made regular communication difficult. every time you called, he would be asleep, and by the time you woke up, you’d see numerous missed calls from him.
nonetheless, it was safe to say that there were still lingering feelings between you both.
you sat down on your plush couch, turning on the television. immediately, the exclusive football channel that your tv always seemed to be tuned into appeared, and this time, it featured a live interview with your ex-boyfriend.
“sae…” you whispered softly upon seeing him.
it seemed as though the interviewer had already wrapped up the important questions, and was now delving into more personal topics.
“thank you, itoshi-san. next question, is there anything in particular that you enjoy doing?”
the football prodigy rolled his eyes and sighed audibly. with a blank expression, he replied, “my girlfriend.”
you felt your face heat up at the suggestive implication, pressing your hands to your warming cheeks– he had never had a girlfriend besides you and had promised he wouldn’t date anyone else. he was talking about you.
to make matters worse for your fragile heart, sae stared right into the camera lens with a subtle smirk, as if he knew you would be watching. the shallow stirring in your heart has confirmed what you already feared: you hadn’t gotten over him, and you knew you never would.
silence louder than a roaring engine filled the enclosure, before the interviewer broke the awkward stillness. “... s-sorry?” the lady was clearly caught off-guard, blinking at him once, twice.
sae scoffed impatiently, “did you not hear me the first time?”
“a-ah, yes, of course.” the woman stammered quickly, trying to recover her professionalism. “you... enjoy doing your girlfriend, yes.”
“used to,” he muttered under his breath, but the interviewer caught it.
“oh, i'm sorry,”
“yeah.”
unfortunately, the lady decided to press on, pushing her luck to pry more information from him. “so, itoshi-san, why did you break up with your girlfriend? could you provide your fans more information regarding your love li–”
he frowned deeply, shoving his hands into his pockets and abruptly standing up to leave, his manager pathetically following behind him. “shut up. you're annoying, leave me alone, ugly.”
later that day, you received a text message from sae.
'i need you back asap. i can help you settle here in spain and i'll pay for the plane ticket and shit.'
you would have never responded so quickly to a single text message had you still been in the long distance relationship. but, you still had a life here– your family, your childhood memories. you hesitated, leaving him on read for now, until you could think of something to reply with later.
a few weeks passed.
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୨ৎ 𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐄𝐋 𝐊𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐑
in a way, you blame yourself for thinking you could play the ‘i can change him,’ game. despite this, your efforts, though minimal, were somehow significant. he became increasingly dependent on you, seeking your comfort whenever he was upset over a game or haunted by memories of his harsh past.
he particularly loved resting his head on your comfortable lap as you raked your fingers through his blond hair, or when you kissed the tattoo on his neck, assuring him that everything would be okay.
but it had become exhausting. too repetitive. irritating, even. his daily venting sessions had taken a toll on your mental well-being, and you simply could not bear it any longer. 
unfortunately, the breakup ended on bad terms, with both of you hurling insults and belittling each other.
you happened to run into him at the airport. quickly, you shifted your gaze away, hoping that he had not taken notice of you. but luck seemed to mock you, and you could already hear his distinctive footsteps approaching.
"hey," he said nonchalantly, tapping on your shoulder to get your attention. “look at me, talk to me.”
your expression wavered as you hesitantly met his gaze, pursing your lips unsurely. “hi, michael,” you muttered softly.
a shallow line etched between his brows. “michael? you know that's not my name. say it properly.”
“it's not micha anymore, though,” you retorted, turning and walking toward the airplane boarding aisle as the passenger announcement was made.
“tch,” he scoffed, quickly making his way to his team, who were boarding the plane from the exclusive gate reserved for the elite football team of bastard münchen.
it was unfortunate that he had to board the same plane as you, but this was just a layover for you- you still had another flight to take before reaching your final destination.
closing your eyes, you leaned your head against the circular window, drifting off to sleep. when you slowly opened your eyes, however, you were not met with the kind gaze of the old lady who had been sitting next to you.
instead, you found yourself staring into a pair of cerulean eyes. he rested his chin on his hand, his elbow propped up on the armrest, watching you intently.
instantly, your eyes flutter fully open and a hurried gasp escaped your lips. “m-michael, you scared me,” you stuttered.
he rolled his eyes, turning his gaze away. “the old hag was more than happy to sit in the exclusive seats section,” he muttered simply. 
“i still haven't forgiven you,” he added, his eyes darting back to you. “but, fuck, come back already. stop being so stubborn.”
you sighed softly, taking his hands in yours. “michael, your rants aggravated my own anger issues. it literally wasn't good for my mental and emotional health.”
he mumbled something incoherent under his breath. when the plane finally descended one minute later, kaiser stood up, opening the overhead compartment above your seat, and handed you your two small suitcases.
placing his hand on your cheek, he leaned down to press his forehead against yours. “...don't block my number. i still want to see you. and talk to you.”
you nodded reluctantly, thanking him for the suitcases. as you looked at him once more before walking away, you spoke softly,
“please, consider going to therapy, micha.”
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୨ৎ 𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐗𝐈𝐒 𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐒
what's better than returning home, exhaustion from work gnawing at your bones, only to find your ex-boyfriend lounging comfortably on a couch in your living room as if he owned the place?
you froze mid-step, breath catching in your throat. “alexis, what the fuck?” you spat angrily.
“y/n!” he immediately sprang up, his face lighting up alarmingly as he flashes you an innocent smile.
he casually strides towards you– as if he had no concept of personal space– and holds up a familiar DVD case. “schatz, remember this? i thought we could watch it, since i remember it was your favourite…”
your pulse quickened, instinctively stepping back. but, ness intercepted, possessively coiling his arms around you and enveloping you in a firm hug. his grip tightened slightly as you attempted to withdraw– but he was careful not to hurt you.
ness buried his face into the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent. “you'll watch it with me, won't you?” he smiled, his warm breath grazing your skin.
"alexis, how the fuck did you even get in?" you demanded, mustering the strength to break free and pry his arms off, snatching the remote and turning off the television.
he pouted, "i had the spare key you gave me! now won't you—"
“you're just as creepy and obsessive as ever,” you shot back, feeling intruded and unsettled, “there's a reason i broke up with you.”
his expression crumbled and his fists clenched tightly at his sides. “d-don't say that, remember all the good times we had? we belong together!” his voice quivered with desperation as he leaned pathetically against the wall.
“yeah, i thought so too,” you countered, “until i caught you, lurking in the corner of my eye, watching me with a friend at the mall.” you gestured towards the door. “leave, now, and give me back the damned key.”
tears formed in his eyes, threatening to spill over as he reluctantly handed back the key. his fingers lingered against yours for a moment longer than necessary. he stepped out of your apartment and threw a weak smile at you over his shoulder. he whispers, “i love you, and i always will.”
you slammed the door shut.
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୨ৎ 𝐌𝐈𝐊𝐀𝐆𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐎
you heard the doorbell ring as you were occupied with chopping tiny pieces of carrots for your young daughter. with a sigh, you set down the knife on the cutting board, wiping your hands on your apron and reluctantly heading towards the door.
there was no need to check the peephole; you instinctively knew it was your ex-husband, reo.
his monthly visits to hand over the child support had become a begrudgingly predictable routine. you swung the door open, and immediately, his desperate gaze met yours.
“y/n—” he started, but you cut him off with an uninterested glare.
“she's on the play mat in the living room. put the check on the table.” you said indifferently, already turning back toward the kitchen. before you could take a step, his fingers gently wrapped around your wrist. it's nothing you didn't expect, however; it happened every single month.
“reo, let go,” your voice was firm yet tired.
“baby, please,” he insisted, pulling you towards his chest and embracing you tightly. you felt the warmth of his body against yours, inhaling the familiar scent of his cologne. “i miss you. i really do. do you know how painful it is for me to slowly watch you become a stranger?”
you remained motionless for a moment before shaking your head, gently pushing him away. “no... just no,” you asserted softly, “your parents always humiliated me during our marriage— whether it be in front of guests at social events or large family dinners. i've never felt enough. and worse, you've always ignored it.”
his face twisted into one of guilt as he attempted to draw you back into his embrace. “i promise i'll–”
“reo!” your strangled voice accidentally yells out. “put the check on the table and leave!” the words leave your mouth impulsively in frustration.
you quickly brought a hand to your mouth, then clutched your chest, taking a deep breath to calm yourself as tears welled up in your eyes. in a quieter tone, you pleaded, “reo, please, just leave…”
albeit reluctantly, he complied, retreating with a heavy heart. but, as per the habitual routine, he returned the next month, pleading for your forgiveness and begging to be taken back.
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୨ৎ 𝐍𝐀𝐆𝐈 𝐒𝐄𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐎
dating nagi was tedious, and even that was an understatement.
"seishiro, i'm seriously considering blocking you if keep calling me every single day, begging me to take you back."
you exasperated, frustration clear as you sat on your bed with the phone on speaker, going through your nighttime skincare routine. you could hear nagi exhale deeply on the other end.
“... 'mm, angel, please,” he whined, his voice growing louder and more desperate. “i miss you, i'm all alone, my apartment's a mess and—”
you scoff, tossing the moisturizer tube onto your bed as you swabbed some onto your face. “your apartment's a mess? i wonder why that is… almost like your girlfriend was doing all the work around the house for you?”
a soft, frustrated groan escaped his lips at your sarcasm. he swallowed hard, his voice cracking, “listen, baby, 'm sorry for takin' you for granted, i want you back in my arms, i want to cuddle w'you like we used to. please, forgive me.”
a long pause hung heavy in the air, his breath hitching in his throat as he waited for your reply, hoping that you'd use what's left of your love for him–if any–to forgive him and return. with a tired sigh, you finally spoke up.
“... no, seishiro. i'm tired. being with you felt like a chore, to be honest. i was the one looking after you– making sure you ate your breakfast and lunch, doing your laundry that's scattered everywhere in your apartment, even reminding you to get off your video games. i'm not your mother...”
you let out all your pent-up frustration once and for all, hoping this would finally put an end to his persistent calls. it was clear you had reached your limit, knowing deep down that you deserved someone who appreciated your time and effort. 
“seriously, why don't you get yourself a maid? dating you was a hassle.”
you stated firmly before hanging up on him.
“dammit, angel…” nagi sighed defeatedly, his slumped body flopping down onto his bed. he lazily tossed his phone aside, feeling drained and overwhelmed. “i'm too tired for this.”
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୨ৎ 𝐃𝐎𝐍 𝐋𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐙𝐎
“pleaase, come backkk,”
great. the last thing you had wanted today was to run into your ex as you stood in line at the popcorn stand. you wished the ground below you would rupture and swallow you whole as he clung onto you shamelessly, drawing the attention of those around you.
“please, baby, i need you!” he whined. you felt the embarrassment from his dramatic display heat up your cheeks, shifting uncomfortably as you mouthed apologetic words to the vendor lady.
“stop it, get off me, you're embarrassing me!” you hissed softly, trying to push his head away. his grip was too strong, maintaining his hold on you as his grin widened, revealing his shiny set of golden teeth.
“only if you get back with me?” he bargained, stepping back anyway as he sensed your growing irritation (and embarrassment).
you crossed your arms, shooting him an accusatory glare. “no way in hell. and you don't need me— you were after my money all along, weren't you?”
“t-that's... come on, don't be like that,” he stammered, his face paling as he avoided eye contact.
“you've only ever seen me as your personal walking credit card, hm?” you continued, “thank you, you've drained me of all my money.”
he watched as you received your medium-sized popcorn bucket, thanking the vendor with a polite nod before turning to leave. the lady called out his name, his own popcorn waiting on the counter, still unpaid for.
his head snaps back to you, that absurd, signature smirk curling on his lips, “wait, y/n, aren't you going to p–”
without turning to face him, you muttered under your breath, “no, i'm not paying for your popcorn.”
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୨ৎ 𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐀𝐈𝐊𝐔
you felt a large pair of hands gently rest on your shoulders, giving them a slight squeeze. you stopped swirling your glass of wine, tilting your head up to meet a pair of beautiful, heterochromic eyes.
unfortunately, those eyes belonged to your fucking cheater of an ex.
“don't touch me, jerk,” you spat, cocking your head back down as you brought the glass to your lips and took a sip of the crimson drink.
he chuckled lowly, patting your head before shamelessly taking a seat beside you. wrapping his arm around the backrest of the sofa, he pulled you closer.
“c’mon, princess, don't be like that,” he winked, taking a sip of his own drink. he paused as he took in your irritated expression. “...are you really still mad at what happened a year ago?”
you shot him a dirty glare, and he immediately raised his hands in front of him in mock surrender. “sorry, sorry, i was only kidding.”
you finally downed the wine, standing up from the soft comfort of the sofa. before you could move away, his fingers encircled your wrist, pulling you back onto the couch, causing you to lean onto him with your hand on his chest.
“okay, but seriously, baby,” he said, delicately gripping your chin between his fingers and leaning in until his lips hovered right above yours. “i really messed up, i'm sorry, i swear she didn't mean anything, you're the one for m–”
“what the fuck do you think you're doing?!” you yelled, slapping his cheek hard enough to whip his head toward the dance floor where numerous women in skimpy outfits were dancing. his gaze lingered on their movements for a while before he felt you pulling away from him.
“yeah, i'm sure you're toootally torn up about it, huh?” you scoffed sarcastically, “keep your eyes wandering, i can see you're overflowing with regret.”
“baby, i only care for y–”
“your sincerity is blinding.”
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˗ˏˋ 𝗛𝗢𝗡𝗢𝗨𝗥𝗔𝗕𝗟𝗘 𝗠𝗘𝗡𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡𝗦 ˎˊ˗
𝐈𝐒𝐀𝐆𝐈 would never push you to the point of discomfort or pressure. instead, he’d approach you casually, genuinely apologizing for any past incidents that might have upset you enough to end things. if you both decided on a mutual break up, then he would definitely try to preserve your relationship to at least that of friends. his main focus would be rebuilding trust between you two, hoping that time and space would allow you both to reconcile in the future. overall, it would be very unlikely for him to verbally express how desperate he is for you, but subtle physical touches are a different topic.
𝐎𝐓𝐎𝐘𝐀 would literally show up at your doorstep, begging on his knees for you. he'd be desperately pleading for your forgiveness– he really didn't want to reveal that he had initially been dating you because of a dare, or rather, a bet from his friends. it just slipped out forcefully. he just really, really, really needed that ps5. despite the bet, his feelings for you had genuinely developed over the five-month dating period. however… to earn that prize, he was required to expose his original intent, resulting in heartbreaks, tears, insults, and many “i hate you”s from your side.
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© 2024 bluelockmaniac — do not repost, copy, translate, modify, etc my work on any platform !
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valalice · 2 months ago
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৻ꪆ caught in the act.
cw. smut nsfw. fem!reader. older gf!cait universe. age gap (10 or more years). both reader and cait are consenting adults. moder au. ceo!caitlyn. pillow humping. dom!cait if you squint. allusion to further smut.
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your hips ferociously rock along the satin of caitlyn’s pillowcase, tainting it with your slick. fisting the material in your hands, gripping it so tight your knuckles turn stark white. thoughts and images of your girlfriend flooding your mind, the only thing that's been on your mind all day. wishing it was her you were grinding on, it should be her, you think.
cursing her for being so dutiful, so responsible for taking time out of her weekend, the weekend she's supposed to be sharing with you, to attend some important matters at her office that only she could take care of apparently.
you also curse her for putting a spell on you, some super secret spell she probably cast over you on one of the many nights you've fallen asleep next her. one that makes it so incredibly hard to cum when she's not around. it's pathetic. rubbing your swollen bud against the silky material for who knows how long, you're so close to your release yet so far. no amount of tweaking your erect nipples or stuffing your face in the shirt you once had on, one of her’s that smelt like her, does the trick to make the coil in your tummy snap.
huffing you release the pillow from your grasp, placing your hands on your tits to knead at them.
“cait—” you mewl, shutting your eyes tight, once again imagine that it’s cait’s skillful hands kneading at your soft flesh.
“missed me?”
you almost missed the sound of caitlyn’s voice, thinking you're just lost within your own imagination, so high on delusion that you can almost hear her voice.
“darling?”
the nickname rings alarm bells off within your head. the desperate grind of your hips stop, hands releasing your tits and falling into your lap, you reluctantly peel open your eyes, turning your head towards the door. gasping, you blink hard. lo’ and behold your girlfriend stands tall against the doorframe, leaning against it with her arms crossed. you stare wide at her, feeling much like a deer caught in headlights, understanding the bright intrusion of lights on them, but instead it’s caitlyn’s hard gaze on you, suddenly feeling very shy.
“you're home!” you enthuse, trying your best to seem as normal as you can be in this predicament. "everything went okay at the office?"
“didn’t have much to help finish up with,” she lifts herself from off the doorframe, arms uncrossing to swing at her side as she walks over to you. “like i told you before i left.” her tone laced with dissatisfaction.
“how— how long were you standing there for?” you quiz, craning your neck to look behind you where cait now stands.
she looks at you for a second before turning her attention back to observing over your bare body. “just a few minutes,” you flush at her answer, turning your head back around, bowing it to your hands in your lap. your index fingers picking at your thumbs, anticipating whatever caitlyn is going to do. shivering at the feel of a cold slender finger tracing down your spine, just to swiftly come from your skin as it nears your tailbone. “was going to watch longer, see if you could make yourself cum. but, that was silly of me to assume you could get off on your own, we both know you can't cum when i’m not around.”
oh, that stung. you accepted it's true, but heat still rushes through you from embarrassment.
“cait—”
“is that my pillow?” she cuts you off, inspected the cushion your sitting on.
“i can explain—”
“tsk.” she cuts you off again, corking her head to the side, shaking her head. “naughty, naughty girl.”
there's a shift behind you, turning your head back around to watch as within a few short clicks of her heels cait now towers in front of you, leaning down face to face. her hands balancing her weight onto your spread thighs. “and what do naughty girls get?” there's a fiery swirl in her icy eyes, similar to when a predator has caught its prey in a vulnerable position.
“punishments.”
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marvelstan0905 · 8 months ago
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Interruptions
Kenji Sato X FEM!S/O! Reader [afab]
TW :Smut/explicit language and descriptions/ implied sex/brief Emi mention/Mina cameo/Mixed POV/ pnv/ fingering
⚠️MINORS DNI⚠️
©all rights reserved. the modification, translation, and plagiarism of my work is strictly prohibited.
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Hours and hours of baseball, taking care of Emi, dealing with the KDF, his dad and other mental exhaustion, Kenji was stressed. Relief, yes relief that's what he needed and what better way to do that than with his lovely partner. The minute he got the chance to pin his partner down, Kenji got to work.
"Mhmm..sweetheart..what's gotten into you?"I kissed him back with equal fervor whiles tilting my head. I wrapped my arms around his neck.
Kenji's heart skipped a beat as his wife kissed him, her words sending a shiver down his spine. He savored the feel of my arms around his neck, my body pressed close to his. As I whispered into his lips, a sly smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth.
"Mmm..I just miss my girl..and I miss being inside you"He huskily replied shamelessly, his hands roaming across my thighs, gently squeezing my skin. My skin felt hot as he was being so goddamn shameless.
"You know you can't be saying such lewd things?" I breathed shyly as he pulled off my shorts and panties, tossing them behind him. A sultry chuckle left his lip as he bit down hard onto my neck causing me to whimper.
"Why not, huh? MAKE ME STOP. I can say things ALOT worse than that" Kenji whispered, challenging me to even TRY IT, whiles nibbling on your ear. Kenji wasn't gonna waste time with clothes, he was wanted his girl NOW.
"W-Well..K-Kenji..d-dont be so vulgar" She flushed whiles tilting her head. I wasn't expecting any late night love making. Especially Kenji's forward and lewd behavior. Usually he was so so soft and sweet, didn't seem so today.
"I said make me baby, now shut up and let daddy take care of you "Kenji rasped firmly and dominantly. My mouth closed with a squeak only for a gasp to fall out as Kenji plunged two fingers inside me.
"K-Kenji" I gasped as my nails dug into his biceps. My legs tried to close on instinct but Kenji spread them open with his knees still keeping me pinned against the wall.
"Aww..You're so wet already..Good for me cause we don't have much time" He was right. Emi was gonna wake up in about an hour. Kenji liked taking his time with intimacy, he enjoyed worshipping me and showing my body the most delicate care but not today. Kenji gently slid his fingers out and gave me a passionate kiss on the lips. "I love you so much..god I need you." He whispered in reassurance and slight desperation.
"I love you too, my love" I smiled. Kenji unzipped his jeans quickly before taking his hard cock out of underwear with a slight sigh of relief. I yelped slightly as he picked me and didn't even hesitate before stretching my pussy open. "K-Kenji"
Dear God, the sigh of relief this man let out as he was welcomed by your warm, tight velvety walls. It was as if all stressed vanished. Kenji's hands tightened around his lover's hips and he began pounding into her relentlessly. "Y-Youre such an angel, my love. Y-Youre so good to me. So beautiful. A good girl. And all for me" Kenji grunted letting out a guttural groan.
My brain turned to mush the second the head of his cock hit at my sweet spot. My back arched into him and my head fell back as moans left my lips like a broken record.
"C'mon, baby. You. Can. Be. Louder. Than. That" Kenji's thrusts deepened and increased in pressure with each word. Each brush against my g-spot sent me spiraling as my eyes rolled to the back of my head and my walls tightened around him.
"Atta girl. You're so tight..christ" Kenji groaned. His fingers were digging into my hips as he relentlessly pounded into me with no chance of easying up or stopping. My moans raised in pitch and volume. My hands dug into his biceps. "You're so close, aren't you, my love? Make me a mess for me. Do that for me?"
If I could answer I would but he was so deep and so goddamn good at making me come undone, I couldn't even respond. My brain short circuits with each thrusts. I screamed his name like prayer, because he felt so good. I could see stars and what looked to be heaven as my orgasm washed over me like a wave. Lord almighty, he always succeeds to make me make a mess all over his cock. Kenji smirked in triumph, a brush to his ego.
"That's it, my girl. Y-Youre doing so well. I-Im so close and I'm gonna fill you up, okay? Make you all nice and warm" Kenji whispered tracing sensual kisses all over my jaw. I was sensitive and the way he was going, I was gonna cum again.
"Pardon the interruption, but Emi has woken up early" Mina's voice broke my state of bliss of bliss as we heard her voice through Kenji's watch. Kenji cursed and almost yelled from frustration. He was so close to finish line.
"Interuptions. Interruptions." Kenji groaned annoyed as his hips still didn't stop moving. "Give me five minutes."
Kenji moved with extra vigor and desperation. He was so close. His thrusts were deep, fast and erratic but they remained constantly hitting my sweet spot. My toes curled once again as I felt the heat washing over me again. Kenji let out a long groan as he finally caught his relief and his seed filled my womb. I panted heavily from the second orgasm in a close time period. Kenji kissed my cheek and lips, affirming me.
"Well done,my beautiful girl. I'll come take care of you just now. Give me a few minutes and we'll go for round two okay?" Kenji whispered into my lips. I just nodded still blissed out. Kenji pulled himself out and laid me down on the bed. Giving both of us a quick clean clean before shuffling to elevator to take care of Emi. Mina, ever so present kept pestering him.
"I'm coming. I'm coming"
-The Lord will forgive me for the filth I have posted and he will forgive YOU, for reading it🥺 If you guys want more smut..uh..let me know..because I need some time to process the filth I have written for daddy Kenji😈 I love you. Stay safe, drink water and stay hydrated and healthy🥰
Credits to @soranatus for the gif😊
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monstersholygrail · 8 months ago
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Dinner is served
Pairing: Minotaur husband x fem!reader — oral (f! receiving), horn stimulation, cum eating, aftercare
You always figured yourself to be a traditional person. You know, you wanted the husband, the house, the white picket fence. The whole nine yards.
You had also always gone for the traditional man. Big muscles, tough and strong, a protector and a provider. It was the type you always tended to gravitate toward.
Your ex had been that kind of person. The kind of man who expected dinner and a stiff drink waiting for him as soon as he got home. For a while you enjoyed it, taking care of someone. But eventually you realized that while you took care of him, he never took care of you.
Now you still prefer a nice traditional guy. Your new husband is just as traditional, preferring dinner to be ready and waiting as soon as he comes home.
Only now the meal is you.
Minotaur husband comes to walking into your shared home, hooves booming against the wood floors due to his size. He lifts his nose and breathes in a long whiff. A heavenly mixture of your scent and his comes rolling into his nose and he shudders.
Walking into the dining room he's disgruntled to find you not where he expected you to be. With his impatience simmering he calls out your name.
"Why isn't dinner on the table?" He adds, his voice rising in order for you to hear him, wherever you were off too. You come prancing in a moment later, the dress you're wearing providing him easy access.
"Sorry! It was a nightmare getting this thing on," you tease, falling into their waiting arms and rising onto your toes for a kiss. Your husband responds immediately with a fierce determination to consume you. His claws squeezing at your soft hips and pulling your small body into his ginormous stature. You shiver at the way he so easily surrounds you. How he could so easily crush you yet you've never felt safer than when you're in his arms. A smirk plays on his lips as you two break away.
"Well, get on up there," he says through gritted teeth in attempts to hide how eager he is to devour his meal. His hand slides down, giving your ass an appreciative slap. A small yelp leaves you as you fall to your feet.
Tossing him a scolding look, you head deeper into the dining room. Hopping up on the table and reclining. You watch your husband walk past you, his gaze very much intent on one thing. As he sits down at the head of the table, your legs automatically widen for him, resulting in a gruff snort of praise.
With his claws digging gently into your thighs, your husband dives right in, his long thick tongue splitting your folds open with ease. You cry out, gripping the table as he feasts on your cunt. His slobbering tongue lapping up your essence before delving deeply in your walls.
A short gasp of pleasure breaks through you and your hands shoot out, gripping the base of your husband's horns. Your Minotaur husband moans, hips jolting, and causing his bulge to nudge the underside of the table. You tighten your hold on his horns, shrieking as the table rattles below you.
"That's it. Hold on tight," your husband growls against your pussy, sending vibrations through your clit. You whimper loudly as he continues his feast with a feral vigor, tongue fucking you that he's been counting down the minutes till he could get between your legs. And you're sure he was.
His broad tongue reaches deep inside you, caressing your g-spot with every thrust. Your moans rise in frequency, another ripping out of you with every swipe of his tongue that consumes you.
Before you know it you're gushing on his tongue, using your grip on his horns to burry him in your pussy so you can grind on his face. Your husband grunts out his pleasure, making sure to swallow every bit of your release and lick up every drop he might've missed.
You shake against the table, your high still moving through you in waves. But your hands slide down to cup his dampened cheeks as he raises his head to look at you, gaze still sparking with lust.
His hands massage as your legs in attempts to calm the tremors. He looks over your weakened state and knows he should wait. Besides, he can't fuck you on a dining room table again. This is the tenth one he's bought in three months, the salespeople practically know him by name at this point.
"How about I start on the rest of dinner while you calm down, love?" He asks, the rumble in his voice filled to the brim with restrained need. He goes to stand up when he sees your pouting face.
"Take me with you?" You ask gently, your voice croaking slightly. Your husband's heart melts and there's no way he can deny you. Not that he'd ever decide to spend time away from you anyway when given the choice.
He scoops up your pliant body in his arms with ease. Your weight absolutely nothing to a man of his size. He keeps you huddled against the short fur of his body as he heads into the kitchen where he'll cook you both dinner as you sit all pretty on the counter. Only helping when you want.
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bettys-redwinesupernova · 14 days ago
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LINGER
rafe cameron x fem!reader
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SUMMARY: a sweet, introverted bartender and obx’s very own troubled golden boy share an unspoken connection—until jealousy, misunderstandings, and unspoken feelings finally push them to confront the truth.
based on this ask !! i hope you enjoy anon, and i hope it’s what you asked for :)
WARNINGS: brief angst, cursing, alcohol consumption, topper being annoying, jealous!rafe, jj being flirty with reader😝, “love” confessions, rafe not feeling good enough, mutual pining, but a cute fluffy end !! (lmk if i missed anything !!)
WORD COUNT: 3.8k (i got REALLY carried away !!)
THIRD PERSON +
The hum of conversation filled the bar on Figure 8, mingling with the low beats of a classic rock playlist. It was a quieter night than usual, with only a handful of regulars clustered at tables and the occasional newcomer drifting in. Y/N stood behind the bar, wiping down the polished surface even though it hardly needed cleaning. She wasn't one to sit idle, and, truth be told, she was grateful for something to do.
The nights when Rafe Cameron came in made it nearly impossible for her to relax.
He was seated at the far end of the bar now, nursing a drink he didn't seem all that interested in. His sharp jawline caught the low light, the curve of his lips tugged into what might have been a smirk—or perhaps he was just lost in thought. Either way, Y/N found it difficult not to glance at him every few minutes, only to whip her gaze away whenever his blue eyes threatened to meet hers.
She knew his routine well by now. Rafe always came in alone, usually later in the evening when the crowd had thinned out. He was polite—surprisingly so—but there was something about him that felt dangerous, like a storm rolling in just beyond the horizon. The other bartenders whispered about him when he wasn't around, but Y/N didn't pay much attention to the gossip. She only knew what she saw: a man who lingered a little too long, who seemed to light up when she stumbled through small talk, who always tipped well even though she was sure she got his drink orders wrong half the time.
Tonight, as she fiddled nervously with the sleeves of her long sleeve tee, she could feel his eyes on her. She braced herself, stealing one more calming breath before walking toward his side of the bar.
"Need a refill, Rafe?" she asked, her voice barely louder than the music.
Rafe looked up, his expression softening the moment he saw her. "Yeah," he said, pushing his glass forward. "Same thing as before, please."
Y/N nodded quickly and reached for the bottle of bourbon, her hands trembling slightly as she poured. She could feel his gaze burning into her, the weight of his attention making her heart pound in her chest.
"Long night?" he asked suddenly, his voice smooth but laced with something almost boyish.
"Hmm?" she mumbled, nearly sloshing the liquor over the rim of his glass. "Oh, uh, yeah. Sort of."
"You're always working so hard," he remarked, leaning forward just a fraction. "Not sure I've ever seen you take a break."
Her cheeks burned as she scrambled to wipe up a stray droplet of bourbon with the edge of her towel. "It's not so bad," she said quickly. "I don't mind staying busy."
"You're good at it," he said, and there was an odd sincerity in his voice that made her stomach twist. "The bartending, I mean. You've got this... thing. Like, you make people feel comfortable."
Y/N froze for a moment, unsure how to respond. Compliments weren't something she received often, and especially not from someone like Rafe Cameron. She fumbled with the garnish tray, pulling out a cherry and dropping it into his glass with shaking fingers.
"Thanks," she murmured, avoiding his gaze.
He smiled then—a real, crooked smile that softened the edges of his typically hard demeanor. "I mean it," he said, taking the drink from her. His fingers brushed hers, just barely, but the contact sent a shiver down her spine. "You're easy to talk to, even when you're... y'know, kind of shy."
She blinked at him, unsure whether to laugh or apologise. Instead, she ducked her head, the warm feeling in her cheeks creeping up to her ears. "I, uh... I'm not great at talking. Sorry."
"Don't be," he said, his voice low and warm. "It's cute."
Her breath caught in her throat, and for a second, she was sure she'd imagined the way he looked at her—like she was something worth noticing. But before she could respond, the sound of someone calling her name from the other end of the bar jolted her back to reality. She muttered a quick excuse and darted away, her heart racing as she busied herself with another customer.
Rafe watched her go, a small frown tugging at the corners of his mouth. He hated how his chest tightened whenever she was near, how he felt like a nervous wreck every time she so much as glanced in his direction. She was sweet, kind-hearted, and far too good for someone like him.
And yet, he couldn't stop himself from lingering.
An hour later, the bar had grown busier, and Y/N found herself working harder to avoid Rafe's gaze. She didn't notice the arrival of Topper Thornton until his voice boomed across the room, drawing Rafe's attention.
Rafe liked watching her. She was different from anyone else he knew—a little clumsy, a little shy, but always kind. Too kind, he thought, for someone like him. She didn't belong to the same cutthroat world of backstabbing and manipulation that he did. She was sunshine, soft and untouchable, and every time he caught himself staring too long, he felt like a thief.
He didn't deserve her.
"Yo, Rafe!" Topper's voice cut through his thoughts, sharp and grating. Rafe turned to see his best friend approaching with a blonde girl in tow. She was pretty in a polished, effortless way—designer dress, manicured nails, a confident smile that screamed old money.
"This is Whitney," Topper announced, nudging Rafe's shoulder. "Told her you've been a free agent too long."
Rafe forced a tight smile, shaking Whitney's hand. She was pretty, sure. She had that typical Kook look, all high cheekbones and cold elegance. But she didn't spark anything in him. Not like Y/N did.
"Hi," Whitney said, her voice lilting with practiced charm.
"Hey," Rafe replied, stealing a glance back at the bar.
Y/N had seen it all—the introduction, the way Whitney tilted her head flirtatiously, the way Topper patted Rafe on the back like he'd just scored a win. Her heart sank, and she turned her attention to cleaning the counter with exaggerated focus, hoping to block out the scene playing out before her.
It was stupid to feel this way. She and Rafe weren't anything, not really. He was just a customer, and she was the awkward bartender who could barely string a sentence together around him. But seeing him with someone else, someone who seemed to fit so effortlessly into his world, made her chest tighten painfully.
When Rafe returned to the bar for another drink, Y/N kept her head down. Her usual nervous warmth was replaced by a cold efficiency as she mixed his order.
"Here," she said curtly, sliding the glass across the counter without looking up.
Rafe frowned. "You okay?"
"Fine."
He hesitated, searching her face for something—anything—that would explain the sudden change in her demeanor. But she didn't give him the chance to linger this time, quickly turning away to serve another customer.
Rafe's stomach twisted. She was shutting him out, and he didn't know why. Was it Whitney? Did she think he liked her? He didn't, not in the way he liked Y/N. But how could he explain that without sounding like an idiot? What was he even thinking? They weren't even together.
The rest of the night passed in a blur of frustration and longing. Whitney clung to Rafe's arm, laughing at his half-hearted jokes and batting her lashes at him, but he barely noticed. His focus was on Y/N—on the way she avoided his gaze, the stiffness in her shoulders, the forced politeness in her voice whenever he ordered another drink.
She hated him now. He was sure of it.
"Rafe, are you even listening?" Whitney's voice snapped him back to reality.
"Yeah," he lied, forcing a tight smile.
But he wasn't. His mind was with Y/N, replaying every moment of the night, searching for the moment he'd ruined everything.
The crisp night air nipped at Y/N's skin as she stepped out of the bar, her breath curling in wispy clouds before vanishing into the dark. The quiet of the island after hours was always a comfort, the distant crash of waves on the shore a reminder of home. But tonight, no amount of serene surroundings could quiet the ache twisting in her chest.
She tightened her coat around her as she walked to her car, her mind replaying the evening in an endless loop. It wasn't the first time she'd seen Rafe Cameron in the bar. She'd grown used to his presence, even come to anticipate it with a nervous sort of excitement. But tonight was different. Tonight, he hadn't been alone.
Y/N hated the way her stomach had dropped at the sight of the blonde girl—Whitney, as she'd overheard Topper call her—clinging to Rafe's arm, her perfectly manicured nails resting on his bicep like she had every right to be there. The girl was beautiful, confident, and poised in a way Y/N knew she could never be. She was everything a Kook girl was supposed to be, and everything Y/N wasn't.
Her hands tightened on the steering wheel as she drove home, the rhythmic hum of the tires on the pavement doing little to soothe her. She felt ridiculous, stupid even, for letting herself feel this way. Rafe wasn't hers, and he never would be. He was just a guy who came into the bar, a customer she barely knew beyond the surface. But that wasn't entirely true, was it?
The way he lingered at the bar, the way he seemed to soften when he talked to her, the way he looked at her like she was someone worth noticing—it had all felt so real. She couldn't help but replay every stolen glance, every hesitant smile, every compliment he'd offered in his quiet, almost bashful way.
But now, all of that felt like a cruel joke. Maybe she'd imagined it, read too much into his kindness because she wanted to believe it was something more. Maybe he'd been looking at her out of boredom, not interest. Maybe he had never thought about her at all.
Her throat tightened, and she blinked hard against the sting of tears. She hated how vulnerable she felt, how easily her emotions betrayed her. She had always prided herself on being independent, on not needing anyone's validation. But Rafe Cameron had slipped past her defenses, and now she was paying the price for letting him linger in her thoughts and feelings.
By the time she reached her small, cozy house, the weight in her chest had settled into a dull ache. She dropped her keys on the counter and sank onto the couch, her thoughts still swirling like a storm. Her parents had always supported her decision to work, even though she could have easily coasted on their wealth like so many other Kooks. She liked earning her own way, proving to herself and the world that she was more than just another privileged kid on Figure 8.
But tonight, she felt small and insignificant, like the world was reminding her that she didn't belong in Rafe Cameron's orbit. He was a hurricane, magnetic and destructive, and she was just a quiet breeze, unnoticed and easily forgotten.
And yet, she couldn't stop thinking about him.
The door to Rafe's house closed with a heavy thud, and he let out a long, exhausted sigh as he leaned against it. The evening had been a disaster, but it wasn't because of Whitney. In fact, he could hardly remember a single thing she'd said. His mind had been elsewhere all night, fixated on the one thing he couldn't stop thinking about: Y/N.
He pushed off the door and made his way to the kitchen, the silence of the house pressing in around him. His family was used to him coming and going at odd hours, and tonight he was grateful for the solitude. Pouring himself a glass of water, he leaned against the counter, his thoughts a jumbled mess.
Y/N had been different tonight, and it had shaken him more than he wanted to admit. She'd barely looked at him, her usual shy, awkward charm replaced by a cold formality that felt like a punch to the gut. He replayed the moment over and over, searching for the exact second he must have done something to upset her.
But the more he thought about it, the more he realised it wasn't just her behavior that had unsettled him—it was how much it had affected him.
He liked her. He really, truly liked her. It was a quiet, consuming sort of affection that had taken him by surprise. At first, it had been easy to dismiss—the way his chest tightened when she smiled, the way his heart raced whenever their fingers brushed. But now, after months of stolen moments and lingering glances, he couldn't deny it anymore.
He thought about the way she tucked her hair behind her ear when she was nervous, the way her voice softened when she spoke to him, the way her cheeks flushed whenever he managed to fluster her. She was kind in a way that felt rare, genuine in a way that made him feel like maybe, just maybe, he wasn't beyond redemption.
But tonight, all of that had felt out of reach.
He ran a hand through his hair, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. Whitney had been a mistake—a distraction Topper had pushed on him that he never should have agreed to. She'd been all wrong from the start, her shallow questions and empty compliments grating on his nerves. She didn't care about him; she cared about the idea of him, the money and status he represented.
But Y/N... Y/N had never treated him like that. She didn't care about his family name or his bank account. She didn't try to impress him or play games. She was just herself, awkward and sweet and so genuine it made his chest ache.
And now, he might have ruined everything.
The thought made his stomach churn. He didn't know how to fix it, didn't even know where to start. All he knew was that he couldn't bear the thought of her looking at him the way she had tonight—like he was a stranger, someone unworthy of her time.
Rafe set the empty glass down on the counter and scrubbed a hand over his face. He wasn't used to feeling this way, vulnerable and uncertain. But Y/N had a way of unraveling him, of making him question everything he thought he knew about himself.
He didn't deserve her, not really. But he couldn't stop himself from wanting her anyway.
As he climbed the stairs to his room, his thoughts were filled with her—her shy smiles, her quiet laughter, the way she made him feel like maybe he could be something more than the mess he'd become. He didn't know what the future held, but he knew one thing for sure: Y/N had changed him, and there was no going back.
Four days. Four endless, suffocating days.
Rafe Cameron had returned to the bar every single night since that dreadful evening, but each time, there was no sign of Y/N. It didn't sit right with him. The place didn't feel the same without her. She wasn't just another bartender—she was the lifeblood of the space, her sweet, slightly awkward energy drawing customers like moths to a flame.
But now, the warmth was gone. Without her behind the counter, it was just another dimly lit establishment, all noise and no soul.
By the fourth night, his restlessness was unbearable. He stepped into the bar, his sharp eyes immediately scanning the room. This time, she was there. Relief flooded him so quickly it was almost dizzying.
And then he saw who she was talking to.
Y/N was behind the bar, giggling softly as she leaned in closer to none other than JJ Maybank. Her hair slipped forward as she laughed, and she quickly brushed it out of her face, a move Rafe had seen her do countless times. It always left him breathless.
But this time, the sight filled him with a searing, unfamiliar rage.
What the hell was Maybank doing here? This was Kook territory, not The Cut. And worse, what was he doing talking to Y/N like that? The way JJ was leaning against the bar, all easy charm and flirtation, made Rafe's blood boil. He clenched his jaw so hard it ached as he watched JJ flash her one of his trademark smirks.
Rafe's fists tightened at his sides as he stalked over.
The second Y/N noticed him, her expression changed. The soft laughter disappeared, replaced by something guarded and uncertain. The shift stung more than he wanted to admit, but he wasn't here to dwell on it. His eyes flicked to JJ, narrowing with disdain.
"Well, if it isn't JJ Maybank," Rafe drawled, his voice dripping with contempt. "Didn't think you'd ever cross the bridge willingly."
JJ turned, unfazed, and smirked. "What can I say? The service here's worth it." He shot Y/N a wink, which only made Rafe's temper flare.
"Sure it is," Rafe muttered darkly, his gaze never leaving JJ. The air between them crackled with tension, but eventually, JJ shrugged and pushed off the bar.
"I'll catch you later, Y/N," JJ said casually before heading toward the group of Pogues gathered in the corner.
Rafe watched him go, his shoulders rigid with suppressed anger. When he finally turned back to Y/N, her expression was unreadable.
"Something I can get you, Cameron?" she asked coolly, her usual warmth noticeably absent.
Rafe hesitated for a moment before leaning on the bar. "Whiskey, neat—Please."
As she poured his drink, he couldn't stop himself from blurting out, "What was he even doing here?"
Y/N glanced up briefly, her expression neutral. "JJ's been here before. He's not exactly banned from Kookland, you know."
Rafe scoffed but didn't press the matter further. The silence between them was suffocating, and it took everything in him to break it.
"How's it been?" he asked, his voice softer now. "I uh, haven't seen ya' around."
She gave him a quick, noncommittal shrug. "Been busy."
The coldness in her tone stung, but Rafe couldn't let it go. He needed to understand what had changed.
"Look," he began, his voice low, "I feel like maybe I upset you the other night. Was it... Was it the girl?"
Y/N froze for a split second before resuming her task, but Rafe didn't miss the way her jaw tightened.
"How was your date, by the way?" she asked, her tone deceptively light.
"It wasn't a date," Rafe said quickly, his words tumbling over each other.
Y/N let out a sharp laugh, shaking her head as she turned to face him. "Rafe, come on. It very clearly was. She was practically glued to your side."
"It wasn't," he insisted, his voice firm. "Topper set it up. I didn't even want to go, and I haven't spoken to her since." He hesitated, his blue eyes meeting hers. "She's not really my type."
Something in his tone gave Y/N pause, but she was too hurt to let it show. "Right," she said flatly.
Before she could say more, Rafe's next question caught her off guard. "Are you seeing JJ?"
Her brows furrowed as she stared at him. "What?"
"Are you seeing him?" he repeated, his voice tense.
"No," she said slowly, setting her hands on the counter. "But he did ask me on a date."
The words hit Rafe like a punch to the gut, and before he could think better of it, he blurted out, "Don't go."
Y/N's eyes widened, and she crossed her arms. "Why not?"
Rafe faltered, the confidence he'd managed to muster evaporating under her sharp gaze. He opened his mouth, but the words caught in his throat.
"Exactly," she said bitterly, turning away to busy herself with a drink. "That's what I thought."
"Wait," Rafe said suddenly, his voice rough with desperation. "It's not— I..." He took a deep breath, his hands gripping the edge of the bar. "I like you, okay?"
The words hung in the air between them, heavy and raw.
Y/N froze, her heart hammering in her chest. Slowly, she turned to face him, her expression a mixture of shock and disbelief.
Rafe looked down, unable to meet her gaze. "I've been nervous to tell you because... because you're too good for me. You're sweet and kind, and I'm—" He broke off, shaking his head. "I'm not. I've got a lot of darkness, Y/N. I don't want to drag you into it or hurt you."
His voice cracked slightly, and he finally looked up, his blue eyes filled with vulnerability. "I don't want to break you."
For a moment, Y/N didn't say anything, the weight of his confession sinking in. Then, slowly, she stepped closer, her voice soft but firm. "You're not going to break me, Rafe."
His brows furrowed as he searched her face for any sign of hesitation, but all he found was quiet resolve.
"I can see the heart in you," she continued, her gaze steady. "You're different when you're around me, and I know it's real. You don't have to be scared of that."
Rafe's shoulders sagged slightly, relief washing over him like a wave.
"And for the record," she added with a small smile, "I'm not interested in JJ. He's been trying to win me over for a while now, but... it was never going to happen."
Rafe let out a shaky breath, his lips twitching into a faint smile. "Good," he muttered, his voice low.
Y/N raised an eyebrow, her confidence returning. "Do you have something to ask me, Rafe Cameron?" she teased, a playful smirk tugging at her lips.
Rafe blinked, momentarily caught off guard, before shaking his head with a quiet laugh. He met her gaze, his expression softening. "Will you go out with me?"
Y/N's smile widened as she nodded. "Yeah. I will."
The tension between them melted away, replaced by a quiet understanding that felt both new and inevitable. For the first time in days, Rafe felt like he could breathe again, and Y/N couldn't stop the warmth blooming in her chest.
As the bar buzzed around them, they stood in their own little world, the first fragile threads of something real beginning to weave between them.
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(divider by @kodaswrld !!)
betty’s notes ౨ৎ ⋆。˚
i hope you enjoyed this anon !! i had sm fun writing this and thought it was a super sweet plot/concept so thank you for trusting me with it <3
still working my way through requests whilst also working on my little drew starkey mini series (sports car) so please be patient w me my loves :) but also still request any ideas you have ofc !!
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moonlightwritingf1 · 15 days ago
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Sports Car | LN4
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🎀 summary ━━━━━━━ Based on Sports Car by Tate Mcrae
🎀 pairing ━━━━━━━ Lando Norris x she!reader
🎀 word count ━━━━━━━ 3.6k
🎀 warnings ━━━━━━━ +18, sexual content, unprotected sex, p in v, creampie, public sex?
Based on this request.
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The hum of the engine was the only sound filling the air as Lando skillfully navigated the winding roads back toward London. His McLaren, sleek and commanding in its presence, seemed to purr beneath them, its low growl a constant reminder of the sheer power it held. The soft leather seats cradled Y/N in comfort, and the subtle glow of the dashboard illuminated her features in a way that made it impossible for Lando to focus entirely on the road.
The party they’d just left—a birthday celebration for a mutual friend—was already fading into a blur of laughter, champagne, and stolen glances. Outside the car, the countryside had melted into the fringes of the city, the faint glimmer of London’s skyline growing closer with every mile. Inside, though, the world was reduced to just the two of them, bathed in the low hum of the car’s engine and the tension thickening the air.
Y/N sat quietly in the passenger seat, her hair spilling over her shoulders in soft waves, catching the faint light from passing streetlamps. Her eyes, which Lando had caught himself getting lost in countless times before, flickered with mischief as she glanced over at him. She had been unusually quiet since they left the party, but Lando could see the spark in her gaze. He didn’t need her to say anything to know she was up to something.
Lando tightened his grip on the steering wheel, his fingers flexing instinctively against the smooth leather. He didn’t mind the silence; in fact, he loved these stolen moments with her, where it felt like the world outside ceased to exist. The McLaren roared softly as he pressed down on the accelerator, effortlessly gliding onto a stretch of open road.
Her hand rested casually on her thigh, the silky fabric of her dress catching the faint glow of the streetlights. She shifted slightly in her seat, her dress riding up just enough to reveal a hint of smooth skin. He didn’t miss it. His grip tightened on the steering wheel as he forced his eyes back to the road, but the air between them grew heavier with every passing second.
“You’re awfully quiet,” Lando teased, his voice low and playful. “Planning something, are we?”
Y/n’s lips curved into a sly smile, her eyes narrowing as she leaned closer. “Maybe,” she murmured, her voice soft but laced with intent. Her hand moved slowly, deliberately, sliding across the console until it rested on his thigh. Her fingers brushed against the fabric of his jeans, light but deliberate, sending a shiver up his spine.
Lando’s breath hitched, but he kept his eyes firmly on the road. “You’re going to make me crash, you know that, right?”
She chuckled, a low, throaty sound that sent heat pooling low in his stomach. “You’re a professional driver, Lando. I think you can handle it.” Her fingers traced circles on his thigh, inching higher with every pass.
“Y/n,” he warned, his voice strained, though the corner of his mouth twitched in amusement. “You’re playing with fire.”
“Good thing I like it hot,” she shot back, her tone dripping with confidence. Her hand moved higher still, her fingers brushing the growing bulge in his jeans. She leaned in closer, her breath warm against his ear as she lightly kissed his ear lobe.
Lando’s jaw clenched, his knuckles whitening as he tightened his grip on the wheel. “You’re going to be the death of me,” he muttered, though there was no mistaking the excitement in his voice.
Y/n grinned, her confidence only growing as she felt him react to her touch. She shifted in her seat, turning her body toward him as her hand pressed more firmly against him. Her fingers worked at the button of his jeans, popping it open with practiced ease. “What’s the matter, Lando? Can’t concentrate?”
He let out a low groan, his hips jerking instinctively as she slid the zipper down. “You’re going to kill us both,” he said, though there was no real protest in his voice.
“Trust me,” she purred, her hand slipping inside his jeans, her fingers wrapping around his hard length. “You’re in good hands.”
Lando’s breath came in sharp bursts as she began to stroke him, her touch firm but teasing. His body reacted instantly, his cock twitching in her hand as he fought to keep his focus on the road. “Jesus, Y/n,” he gasped, his hips bucking against her touch.
She laughed softly, her thumb swiping over the head of his cock, spreading the bead of moisture there. “You’ve been driving me crazy all night,” she whispered, her lips brushing against his ear. “Thought it was only fair, I returned the favor.”
Lando’s eyes flicked to her for a moment, taking in the flushed cheeks and the way her chest rose and fell with each breath. She was a vision, and she was his. “You’re lucky I’m such a good driver,” he muttered, though his voice was thick with desire.
Y/n’s smile widened as she continued to stroke him, her movements slow and deliberate. “Oh, I know,” she said, her tone dripping with mischief. “But you’re still going to pull over, aren’t you?”
Lando let out a shaky laugh, his resolve crumbling with every pass of her hand. “You’re impossible,” he said, though there was no real annoyance in his voice.
“And yet, you love me,” she replied, her voice soft but filled with certainty.
His eyes softened at that, his heart swelling even as his body throbbed with need. “Yeah,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “I do.”
Y/n’s hand stilled for a moment, her gaze locking with his as the weight of his words settled between them. She had always been guarded, always hesitant to let anyone see the real her. But with Lando, it was different. He saw her, truly saw her, and it scared her as much as it thrilled her.
“Pull over,” she whispered, her voice trembling slightly, not from fear, but from the intensity of the moment.
Lando didn’t hesitate. He signaled and guided the car off the road, bringing it to a smooth stop in a quiet spot. The engine continued its low hum, filling the silence as he turned to face her. His blue eyes were dark with desire, a smoldering intensity that sent a shiver down her spine. But beyond that, there was something deeper in his gaze, something unmistakable.
Love.
It was written in the way he looked at her, raw and unguarded, as though she was the center of his universe. The air between them grew heavier, the intimacy of the moment settling over them like a blanket, shutting out everything else.
Y/n’s breath caught as he reached for her, his hands cupping her face as he pulled her into a searing kiss. His lips were soft but demanding, and she melted into him, her hands tangling in his hair as she kissed him back with equal fervor.
“You’re going to kill me,” he murmured against her lips, his hands sliding down to her waist, pulling her closer.
“Only if you let me,” she whispered back, her voice filled with promise.
Lando’s lips curved into a smirk as he reached for the lever, reclining the seat so she could straddle him. “Oh, I’m not letting you go that easily,” he said, his voice low and filled with intent.
Y/N’s heart raced as she climbed onto his lap, her dress gathering around her hips as she leaned down to kiss him again. His hands roamed her body, tracing the curves of her waist, her hips, her breasts, as if he couldn’t get enough of her.
“You’re perfect,” he whispered, his lips trailing down her neck, nipping at the sensitive skin there.
She shivered at his touch, her body responding instantly to his words, his hands, his mouth. “Lando,” she breathed, her voice shaking with need.
“Tell me what you want,” he murmured, his hands gripping her hips, guiding her to grind against him.
She moaned softly, her body arching into his as she felt the hard length of him pressing against her. “You,” she whispered, her eyes locking with his. “I want you.”
And that was all it took.
Her dress had ridden higher as she straddled him, leaving her thighs bare against the heat of his body. His hands slid beneath the fabric, fingers exploring the soft curves of her hips with a desperate need to feel her. She shifted against him, the friction drawing a low groan from his lips, his body tensing beneath her as she moved against his hardness. 
“You’re driving me crazy,” Lando murmured, his voice low and rough, his lips brushing against the sensitive skin of her neck. His breath sent shivers down her spine, and she tilted her head to give him better access. “You’re so fucking hot like this.”
She smirked, a little breathless, her hands moving to his chest as she kissed him. Her fingers traced the firm muscles there, savoring the way his skin felt warm and alive beneath her touch. His cock was already free from his jeans and boxers, hard and heavy against her thigh, the heat of it making her ache. She felt his pulse racing, his heart thundering in a rhythm that mirrored her own desperation.
"You’re not so bad yourself," she whispered, her voice teasing as she leaned back slightly, her gaze drifting lower. The sight of him like this, already stripped bare for her, sent a jolt of heat through her core. His dick twitched under her stare, swollen and needy, veins straining against the skin. She bit her lip, her eyes flashing up to meet his as she shifted her weight, grinding against him, letting him feel the wetness of her panties.
Lando’s breath hitched, his jaw clenching as his hands gripped her hips, anchoring her to him. His Adam’s apple bobbed, a low growl escaping his throat. "You’re going to kill me," he ground out, the words strained, his voice thick with want. He struggled to keep his composure, but the way his fingers dug into her hips betrayed how close he was to losing it.
She wrapped her hand around him, squeezing gently, a slow stroke that had him shuddering. His head fell back against the seat, a groan tearing from his lips as his eyes shut, his face a mask of pure, unfiltered pleasure. She loved this—loved how easily she could unravel him, how his usual confidence melted into something raw and vulnerable. The way he reacted to her touch, to her every move, was intoxicating.
Her thumb brushed over the slick tip of his cock, spreading the precum that had gathered there. She leaned in, her breath hot against his ear. "Do you want me to take care of this?" she murmured, her tone sweet but laced with the promise of something far more. Her hand moved again, another slow, deliberate stroke that had his hips bucking into her grip. "Or do you want to do it yourself… while I watch?"
“Y/n,” he whispered, his voice strained, his hands gripping her hips tighter. “Fuck, you’re killing me.”
She smiled, her hand moving a little faster. She could feel him twitching in her hand, and it only made her want more. “Good,” she murmured, her breath hot against his ear. “I want you to feel as crazy as you make me feel.”
Her words were enough to push him over the edge. Before she knew it, his hands, which had been on her hips, lifted her slightly as he moved her underwear to the side. She felt the tip of him pressing against her, and a soft moan escaped her lips, her body already aching for him. He didn’t wait, didn’t give her a chance to catch her breath, as he guided himself inside her, filling her completely.
The stretch was delicious, a perfect mix of pleasure and pain that made her head fall back, a moan escaping her lips as she felt him bottom out. He was so deep, so thick, and she could feel every inch of him as she shifted, trying to adjust to the sensation. But she didn’t need to adjust for long, because soon she was moving, her hands braced against his shoulders as she rode him slowly, savoring every moment.
“Fuck, Y/n,” Lando groaned, his hands moving to her waist, holding her steady as she moved. She could feel his eyes on her, watching her every move, and it only made her want to go faster. She leaned forward slightly, her hands moving to her dress as she pulled the fabric down, exposing her chest to him. His eyes darkened as he took in the sight of her, his hands moving to cup her breasts, his thumbs brushing over her hardened nipples.
She moaned again, the sensation of his hands on her breasts adding to the pleasure building inside her. She could feel herself getting wetter, her walls clenching around him as she moved, her pace quickening. He was so deep, so perfect, and she could feel every thrust as he filled her, his hips meeting hers with every movement.
“Lando,” she whispered, her voice shaking as she moved faster, her body craving more. “Oh my god, you feel so good.”
He groaned, his hands moving to her hips, gripping her tighter as he helped her move. “You’re so tight,” he murmured, his voice rough with need. “So fucking perfect.”
She could feel the pleasure building inside her, the way her body was responding to him, and she knew she was close. But she wanted to make it last, wanted to savor every moment of this. She leaned forward slightly, her hands moving back to his shoulders as she kissed him, her lips moving against his hungrily. He groaned into the kiss, his hands moving to her ass, gripping her tighter as he thrust up into her, meeting her movements with his own.
“I’m close,” she whispered, her voice trembling as she pulled back slightly, her eyes meeting his. “So close.”
“Me too,” he murmured, his hands moving to her breasts again, his thumbs brushing over her nipples as he squeezed them gently. She moaned at the sensation, her body arching into his as she felt the pleasure building inside her, the way her walls were clenching around him.
“Come for me, Y/n,” he whispered, his voice rough with need, his hips meeting hers with every thrust. “Let me feel you.”
His words were enough to push her over the edge, and she cried out, her body trembling as the pleasure washed over her. She could feel herself tightening around him, her walls clenching as she came, the sensation overwhelming. He groaned, his hips stilling as he thrust into her one last time, his body shuddering as he came inside her, filling her completely.
For a moment, they stayed like that, their bodies pressed together, their breathing heavy as they tried to catch their breath. She could feel his heart racing beneath her, the way his hands were still gripping her tightly, as if he never wanted to let her go. And in that moment, she didn’t want him to.
“That was…” he started, his voice shaky, his hands moving to her waist as he pulled her closer. “Fuck, Y/n, that was amazing.”
She smiled, her hands moving to his chest as she leaned into him, her body still trembling slightly from the aftershocks of her orgasm. “You’re not so bad yourself,” she murmured, her voice teasing as she kissed him softly, her lips brushing against his.
He groaned, his hands moving to her ass as he pulled her closer, his lips moving against hers hungrily. “You’re going to be the death of me,” he whispered, his voice rough with need as his hands roamed over her body, already craving more.
The car was still quiet except for the faint hum of the engine and their heavy breathing, their bodies tangled together in the aftermath of passion. Y/n was still straddling Lando's lap, her chest rising and falling as she tried to catch her breath. She could feel the weight of his cum inside her, the warmth of it making her pulse quicken again. Her fingers traced lazy patterns on his chest, her nails lightly scratching the skin as she leaned into him, her lips brushing against his neck.
“Lando,” she murmured, her voice soft but laced with a need she couldn’t suppress. “I… I need to move.”
He glanced down at her, his eyes dark and hazy with desire, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Why?” he teased, his voice low and husky, one hand still gripping her hip possessively. “You’re exactly where I want you.”
She bit her lip, her cheeks flushing as she shifted slightly, feeling the way his cum threatened to spill out of her with even the slightest movement. “I… I don’t know how to get up without, you know… making a mess,” she admitted, her voice dropping to a whisper, her heart racing at the thought.
Lando’s smirk widened, his eyes glinting with mischief as he leaned in closer, his lips brushing against her ear. “My mess,” he murmured, his voice dripping with possession, sending a shiver down her spine. “You’re going to sit with it, aren’t you? Until we get back home.”
Her breath hitched, her body reacting instantly to his words, a flush of heat spreading through her as she felt herself growing wet again. “Lando,” she protested weakly, her voice trembling as her fingers tightened against his chest. “That’s… that’s so dirty.”
“Good,” he growled, his hands tightening on her hips as he pressed her down against him, making her gasp at the sensation. “You like it, don’t you? Knowing you’re full of me. Keeping me inside you.”
She couldn’t deny it, her body betraying her as she felt her arousal spike at his words. “Yes,” she whispered, her voice barely audible as she pressed her face into his neck, her lips brushing against his skin. “Yes, I do.”
He chuckled softly, his hands moving to guide her as she shifted against him, his touch firm but gentle. “Let me help you,” he said, his voice low and commanding, his fingers gripping her hips as he slowly lifted her off him. She gasped as she felt his cock slide out of her, the sensation of his cum spilling out slightly making her clench around nothing, her body already craving him again.
“Lando,” she moaned, her hands gripping his shoulders as she tried to steady herself, her body trembling with need.
“Quiet, love.” Lando’s voice was low, carnal, as his hands slid down her thighs. Her body shivered against him, her breath hitching when his fingers grazed the edges of her soaked underwear. She could feel his cum already trickling out of her, warm and slick, pooling between her legs. His touch was deliberate, possessive, as he tugged the fabric back into place, covering her pussy with a soft rustle of lace. “There you go. All covered up. But you’re still dripping, aren’t you?”
Her cheeks burned, but she didn’t look away. His smirk was wicked, his eyes dark with satisfaction as he leaned in, his lips brushing her ear. “Every time you move, you’re going to feel me leaking out of you. Right into your cute little panties,” he said, helping her back into the passenger seat.
She swallowed, her thighs pressing together instinctively. “Lando,” she whispered, her voice trembling.
“Mm?” He ran a finger along the edge of her underwear, his touch feather-light. “You like it, don’t you? Feeling me warm inside you, spilling out where only I’ve been?”
Her breath hitched, her fingers clutching the edge of the seat. She couldn’t lie. Not with the way her body throbbed at his words. “Yes.” The word was barely audible, but it was enough to make his smirk widen.
“Good girl.” He kissed her cheek, his lips lingering for a moment before he pulled away. “But we’re not done. Not tonight.”
Her heart raced as she watched him tuck himself back into his boxers and jeans, his movements slow, deliberate. His hand brushed against his cock as he zipped up, and she couldn’t tear her eyes away. She’d never seen him like this—so in control, so commanding.
The engine purred back to life, and Lando’s eyes slid to hers as he adjusted the rearview mirror. “Keep your legs closed, yeah? Don’t let a drop of me go to waste.”
Her thighs pressed together tighter, her pulse quickening at his words. She could feel his cum sliding out of her, soaking into her underwear, and it made her ache for him all over again.
He glanced at her again, his expression softening for just a moment. “You’re mine,” he said, his voice firm but tender. “Every part of you.”
She bit her lip, her fingers fidgeting in her lap. “Lando,” she whispered, her voice shaky. “I… I want you again.”
His hand moved to her thigh, his grip firm but gentle. “Patience, love. You’ll get what you need. But first, you’re going to sit with me inside you until we’re home. Think you can handle that?”
She nodded, her breath catching as she felt another trickle escape her. “Yes,” she breathed, her voice barely audible.
“Good.” He squeezed her thigh once, his eyes locked on the road, but his voice dropped lower, rougher. “Because I’m not done with you. Not even close.”
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